Poem: Wrapped Refrain – “Words on the Stairway ” 


 

http://www.alexmulder.eu
 
——

Back to my favourite rhymes I go,

Keep the rhythm quick as we flow,

Appeares that writing voice is back,

No need now for all your life hacks,

The refrain encapsulates vision, souring high.

The grandest place to thrive, creativity cries.

—–

Incased in suits, all bullet proof.

Meaning of powersuit, not aloof.

Fluttering new wings of glory,

Touching heaven, sparks gold stories.

Raining down vocabulary, feeling prose.

Writing anyways in poems, how this writer’s mind grows.

Round in circles, form graceful dances ever-glowing.

——

Phoenix rising, as he spins.

Diving down, prey on fish with fins.

Consuming all the rhymes precision.

No one can claim indecision,

Choose the words, that force you far into a whirlpool.

Round you’ve spun, twirling; time granted swirling jewels.

——

Another verse rises, ascending,

Riding stairways, crescendoing.

Flying the stairway to heaven,

Lyrics, mana, and nectar; times seven.

Wings of angels, spirits, enchant; singing —

Back to my favourite anthem of life, song ringing.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Poem: Acrostic – “Not the End”


Thanks to The Daily Post for the word prompt friend.

—–

Acrostic Poetry is where the first letter of each line spells a word, usually using the same words as in the title.

Please see Shadow Poetry for further information.

—–

Feeling as if I didn’t want to be alone, so I went and talked to you in the back of the old store.

Remembering  all the fantastic times we shared together, that you never let me down; memories layered upon memories, even in the tough times.

I‘m worried because you’re sick now, and the fight against some diseases is an awful fight; you’re one of the strongest women I know and I pray for you each night.

Empathy, is the best word that describes how I feel for you; you are a champion and you fight for your family, your health, you fight to win.

Nothing would take my friendship away; years of ‘us’ have been built and are iron tough; time will go on and though we’re apart we connect as always.

Death won’t even be the end because you’ll be with me in heaven too; but not until we’re both old and grey, for now keep pushing ahead with my love, the love of all who love you,  behind you.

Savouring the moments we share, laughing, drinking wine, and thinking back on all that has been and all that will be; seeing a bright future ahead for you; don’t ever think this is the end.

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem:Free Verse – “Fleeting”


Thanks to The Daily Prompt for the prompt word fleeting.

—–

download (3)
http://www.kids-myshot.nationalgeographic.com
Considerably, much time in life is fleeting,

Even this moment passing now, it was a cheat —

We didn’t know we’d never get the moment back,

But it’s gone forever, clever, a moment we lack.

Fleeting, means something isn’t here long,

We need our best attempt, to remember it’s song,

When all our moments are gathered at the end of life,

We will see life was fleeting, for it’s pain and strife.

Perhaps, we will only picture meaningful times,

Laughing with loved ones, and considering old rhymes.

Pieces of poetry and prose, leading us through each day,

Thinking, and contemplating words, as they play,

At the end of days, it’s hard to say, what will be important.

I think for our time with our families, we’ll feel fortunate.

But if our moments are fleeting, how come they take their time,

Letting as watch the clock tick-tock, slowly, and stately, chime.

The sun may set, but it rises again; each morning so glorious.

Thinking, one day the sun won’t rise; right now it’s notorious.

It rises each day, shooting rays and light across our paths.

So when He leads us, we can go step by step and laugh.

Awaking early, only to see the breathlessness of pastel colours blend.

Photographing sky in our minds with nostalgic clarity, to rend.

Time happens so slow, but quickly when we think, how it went,

So, if you please stop saying everything is fleeting,

Instead be cheerful, and don’t forget to greet,

The people you come across in the passage of our lives.

Live each day, a wondrous burst of your best tries.

Take your time drop by drop, and spend it well, don’t cheat.

Be watchful; when moments go, they go on feet so fleet.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

 

Poem: Tanka – “Sentiments for Sentimental”


Thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt word sentimental.

—–

 

http://www.missylongsinger.blogspot.com
 

—–

Sentimental,

She cried as she remembered,

Her tears streaming down,

Past times whispering softly,

Memories laced with harsh pain.

——

Sentimental,

Whisps of happiness and cheer,

Wonderful times,

Forgotten now, trapped —

A mind that doesn’t know the day.

——

Sentimental,

Years spent, drinking them away.

Parties with girls, now old.

Loving, days spent shot after shot.

Fragile now, liver won’t last long.

——

Sentimental,

Eyes engaging his soul in dance.

First time he saw her,

He’ll never forget, breathless —

Kisses and skin revealed, now gone.

——

Sentimental,

Is that word meaningful for you?

Remembering,

Fondness, time, emotions, experiences–

Missing a person you can’t have back.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Quatrain -‘ Heart Aches Of the Girl,’


A Quatrain is a poem consisting of four lines of verse with a specific rhyming scheme.

A few examples of a quatrain rhyming scheme are as follows:

#1) abab

#2) abba — envelope rhyme

#3) aabb

#4) aaba, bbcb, ccdc, dddd — chain rhyme

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.
——

 

http://www.themirrormagazine.com
 
——

I see the connection that bursts,

As blossoms in springtime all,

Ensconced in the sunlight – it hurts,

Knowing she’d find you, take — enthrall.

—-

Realizing time forward thirsts,

For you and her, to have all your firsts.

The future arrives, pain recalled.

One day, becomes a hundred worst.

——

Doubtful you would comprehend,

A girl’s heart never can be mended,

A woman knows, move on and fly,

But her souring heart is pretend.

——-

You can never hold time back, I tried.

Heartache is for life, no disguise.

You can’t perceive, breathe — realize,

Her with you, transparent I cry. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Echos of My Neighbourhood: Support Through the Good and The Bad — Family.


University Graduation May 2007
 
It’s difficult for me to believe I graduated from university nine-years ago. That it will be a decade in 2017 blows my mind. These are my Dad and my Mom with me in the photograph, and I have to say I would have never made it to graduation, or in the years post graduation without my parents. 

It was a funny thing, when I first became ill and had to go in hospital in 2009, I wasn’t thinking straight, but the only thing which got me through the long days in the hospital was that my parents were going to come visit me at 5:30 pm. The entire three-weeks I was in the hospital, they came every night and stayed until visiting hours were over at 8:00 pm.

 My Dad would come first and he would read to me and play cribbage with me. I have always loved how my Dad’s voice sounded when he read a book outloud. I remember him reading devotions to my brothers and I when we were small kids. The boo my Dad read to me was called A Thousand Splendid Suns. It was an excellent book but at the sametime it terrified me because in my mind, my own situation related to one of the woman characters. All through the first week at the hospital I was still delusional, but my parents never let me down. 

Christmas Family Photography with Grandma, my brothers, and Dad.

I think I would have cried had my parents not come to the hospital one day, even when my thinking became clear and organized in the second week after I started taking a medication which almost immediately stopped my delusions. I learned later, how tiring it was for my parents to work all day and visit me in hospital each night. On weekends I had a pass to come home, and it must have been a relief to them to relax a bit. When I was able to be in my own bed I felt safe again. In the hospital before I was on the correct medication to stop my delusions, I believed I was in a sort of Hell and that you couldn’t have parents in Hell, so eventually I was going to lose my parents. 

Then the medications started working. My delusions went away. I wasn’t scared to be at the hospital anymore. But I still counted down the hours until my parents came. While I healed initially at home, I became much closer with my family. My Godparents, my Great-Grandma Reeder, My Grandma Eifert, and even my brothers, I realized I’d been neglecting. I hugged my brothers when I first came home and saw them. I don’t recall hugging them before that except when I was a child. I think they were both embarrassed but they both patted my back.

Before my episode, I was wrapped up in work and my social life. I had responsibilities at work which would have continued to grow and turn into not only a full work day but networking events at night during the week and weekends. I would have had ” a career,” but I doubt now I would have loved it.

It would have been fun I think but I’m glad life didn’t go that way. I learned to value my family so much more. My parents have let me stay at home while I have been healing for eight-years and they charge me little rent so I can save money and pay off my debts. My Mom drives me to places often. We do things together and Mom takes me to get a blood test every week and to pick-up some necessities at the local drugstore or the mall. I have gone on vacations with both my parents to Las Vegas and Phoenix. I have gone on a couple of trips with only my Mom and one with by brother N. 

 

Christmas Family. Photograph with Grandma, my Brothers, and Mom.
 
I have learned from my experiences in the past, you can depend on your family and that they will love and support you through good and bad times. At some point when I’m a bit more able to be independent, I will move out. I wonder what I will do without my Mom at night and weekends to talk to and make plans with. I wonder who I will talk to about sports with when my Dad and I don’t live in the same house. I wonder, but I know even when I am on my own, I will have the support of my family.

—–

Thanks to Jacqueline from A Cooking Pot and Twisted Tales for hosting Echos of My Neighbourhood each Thursday.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

13. How Was Last Night For You: Injuries and Memories


Read Chapter 12 here.

Chapter 13: Injuries and Memories.

John was searching for Nina beneath debris inside the farmer’s market. He was worried about Nina and he couldn’t find her. He had lost her and their bags when they had dived for the floor as a booth had blown towards them.

John could see other people searching for friends or family in the warehouse. He watched a grey-haired man aid some other men caught underneath a table. Everyone at the farmer’s market was injured someway. The worst were broken limbs and large abrasions. John hoped Nina had escaped with nothing but a few scrapes. John’s breathing stopped for a moment when he saw a soft pile of pink fabric out of the corner of his eye.

Nina was lying on the cement floor of the warehouse her right hand covered in blood. John carefully removed the items that had landed on top of Nina from the wind. He removed the bags with some of her purchases from her slack hand. John gently shook Nina. When she didn’t wake up he realized Nina was unconscious.

John ran his hand gently through Nina’s hair and was startled when his hand came out dripping blood. He grimaced at the awful wound Nina had acquired on her head. She was going to need stitches and John wouldn’t doubt it if she had a concussion. He unwound the the pink scarf around her neck gently and pressed the scarf to Nina’s head injury. The scarf was ruined but hopefully it would stop the remaining bleeding.

Oddly enough, the storm had only affected a small area of Adare, close to Sirene Lake. It didn’t surprise John. He was sure Tia drew her power from the water as a sea witch. She was the one who had caused Nina’s head injury he thought hatefully.  John grabbed Samsung and called 911. Ambulances were no doubt in the area assisting people from the market because the paramedics were helping Nina in a flash.

John watched worriedly as Nina was put onto a stretcher. A brace was put around her neck and the paramedics put bandages on Nina’s head wound. John gathered Nina’s bags and rode in the ambulance saying he was Nina’s fiancé so he could accompany her to the hospital. On the way, John found Nina’s phone in her purse and called Jasper to help Rianne bring some of Nina’s clothes and toiletries to the Adare General Hospital.

John told Jasper Nina had hurt her head. Then he mentioned that Tia had returned. Jasper was aghast.

“After all this time?” Jasper wondered.

“Yes Tia’s back Jasper and she’s vengeful. She wants me, but she wants to hurt me too. She’s nothing like the sweet girl I used to know. Who laughed and partied with us years ago.” John said.

“The best way she can hurt me is through Nina. Tia’s jealous of her. I’m positive it was Tia who hurt Nina drawing power from the water of the Sirene for the storm. Nina said Tia was at the fundraiser last night dating a guy named Malcolm, one of our editors from Mergers. Tia called herself Talise. Nina ran into her at the farmer’s market today too.  Tia hurt Nina on purpose today.”

“Are you sure John?”

“Yes, Jasper. She told me ‘my heart or Nina’s’ I don’t think she could be much clearer. I think she wants one of our hearts literally.”

John ended the call as the ambulance pulled up to emergency. The wait in emergency was painfully long and Nina remained unconscious the entire time. Doctor Kenner eventually examined Nina’s head and said she would be out for awhile. Nina had a nasty gash on her scalp and the doctor stitched up the wound carefully. Doctor Kenner noted that Nina would need three or four weeks to heal from what he thought was a mild concussion.  Dr Kenner ordered  a CT scan and x-ray to be sure of Nina’s condition.

John set Nina’s shopping bags down by the window sill in her hospital room. He saw there were some different spices in one bag and a beat up apple pie in the other. He was starving and managing to procure a plastic fork,  John ate half the pie. It was delicious, and was well worth the necklace he bought Nina. John had never bought a woman such a personal gift before, except Tia. He remembered having bought her a bracelet with an opal stone. Tia’s favourite colour was teal. She had been ecstatic when John given her the bracelet years ago.


 

“John it’s gorgeous. It reminds me of the ocean and the waves.” A young Tia had said to him admiring her wrist. “You have good taste.”

” I saw it and knew you would like it. It was in Tiffany’s.” John remarked, his hands tangled in Tia’s blond waves.

“Tiffany’s wow, it must have been expensive John. I love it. And I love being here on the beach with a bonfire and only us. No one for you to do business with. No brothers for you to rough house with and meet clients with. Just us, when we get married promise we’ll go to Greece, somewhere the water is santorini blue. . .”

“Oh, umm,” John said nervously. “I have a heaping pile of work to do for the next while and building Mergers right now is exceptionally important to my brother’s and I. It’s our dream you know. We’ll have to wait awhile. We can always have a good time as we are. I don’t need a piece of paper to say we’re a sure thing. We don’t need to be married yet.”

Tia sighed sadly, “If you say so John. In a year or two right?” Tia said holding up her bracelet and looking adorable.

John kissed her wrist, “Sounds about right, Tia.” He kissed her slowly by the bonfire.


 

It wasn’t long after Tia cursed John because Tia thought John was using her. Despite searching the lake for her in his sailing boat and inquiring about her from Tia’s old friends, John hadn’t seen Tia in eight years. When John saw Tia at the market she looked almost the same. Her skin was smooth and dewy and her hair was a sun-kissed blond. Only, her personality was colder. She was devious. She wasn’t an innocent girl anymore. John had helped cause her Tia to become hateful what she was today — vengeful. He felt guilty, despite how irate Tia made him feel for the curse she had caste on John.

John clasped the less expensive but beautiful pearl on the gold necklace he’d bought for Nina. The necklace lay around her neck as she slept. When he bought it for Nina he knew it was a gift for Nina which had more meaning to him then Tia’s expensive bracelet. He wanted Nina to be his ‘beloved’ as the charm on the necklace read. He wanted to do better with Nina and work was no longer such an interference in his life. He had enough money that he could take time off when he needed. In that moment, John realized he wanted a future with Nina. If he had it his way — a lifetime.


 

Rianne and Jasper arrived when visiting hours were almost over. Rianne wasn’t looking to well with her arm in a cast and sling. She was in pain but tried to be cheerful with Jasper at her side. Jasper had helped Rianne gather some clothes and personal items Nina would require in hospital for a few days. Rianne kissed Nina’s cheek and she brought home Nina’s spices from the market. John had finished the pie refusing to leave Nina before she woke up.

Nina awoke from unconsciousness later in the night. She was groggy as he took her hand and kissed her cheek.”John… is that you? I couldn’t find you. I looked but you were gone and this table it hit me and then my head was bleeding.”

“It’s okay Nina,” John said “I called an ambulance and you’re in a hospital room now. Doctor Kenner has ordered a CT scan and an x-ray but he thinks you should be yourself in a few weeks if you’re careful. You have a little concussion, that’s all.”

“Oh” Nina said softly,”I don’t feel good at all…so queasy.” John quickly grabbed a bedpan and Nina threw up. She wiped her mouth with some Kleenex John gave her.

“It’s going to take some time for you to heal Nina, take it slow, honey.” Nina smiled at the endearment and weakly brushed John’s hand with hers before letting her hand drop and resting back in bed.

“I intend to…” Nina whispered. She was going to sleep again when she mumbled, “Call my Mom. Call Heather –”

John sighed. Talking to Nina’s Mother for the first time to tell her Nina’s injured, great…

Please Read Chapter 14 here.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Poem: ” Objectified”


 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
It comes to me in pieces. I wasn’t good enough for you. I was only one of many. I didn’t realize, I wasn’t important.

I didn’t have that special vibe, that made you feel alive. The attraction I felt, only my imagination acting out.

Your piercing look of blue seeing me, trying to devise a way to know me. At least you tried a bit. I miss it.

And I miss the arms of someone who loved me much. But something wasn’t right. It’s how some relationships go. I wasn’t aware how much he saw in me, until he was gone.

Some men don’t try at all. They think you are only a release of the pent up need to mate. The desire of a guy for a pretty woman is tireless and unforgiving. He’s sure you’ll answer his libido’s call.

Why did I never see. I was always a number. I was always an object of sexuality. When I was young and so pretty , my worth was my beauty. Somethings don’t change, only the younger women are hotter.

I think of a song: “But Beautiful is empty / Beautiful is free / Beautiful loves no one / Beautiful stripped me.” (Creed) 

Beautiful is empty. Those girls who giggle freely and don’t mind being objectified. But some of them are hiding a world of color and art beneath their facades. A library of knowledge and experiences.

I realize how much we base on looks, our society is based on youth. Those who are the shiny pretty people. But no one can measure up, after your twenties or even then.

You tell me all the hot girls you can get. You tell me how easy they are to find. You make me feel no different then those you have defined merely for sex. What do you want with me, I am not so vapid. 

I thought I saw something in you. A softening of a man’s heart. Maybe I thought, you could sympathize with my life and make more of an effort. But I’m merely cute. I am not beautiful.

I’m not the ‘void’ that made me small when collage boys looked at me. I have learned from my experiences and I have always been more then my face or body. 

You say we should wait and see. Let the way things go, make the decision. I don’t mind going that way. But I see now I’m a number, a prized pet begging for attention with all the other women. A number.

There is an entire women’s movement of equality and their begging their men and trying to teach their sons to see women differently. I don’t think we’re succeeding. 

Woman are valuable because we are a ‘person’equal to men in every way. We are valuable because we are as smart as men and at times, much wiser. 

We are not our looks or our ability to bear a certain amount of children. We are not all the same. Each woman is unique and valuable for being herself. Stop numbering us on your head board. 

Ladies, stop chasing the men who are only after your tail. Stop letting them win when they characterize you as that easy girl they slept with. Make it hard, so they see your worth. Make them work.

And if they can’t see how wonderful you are. Throw them to the curb. Teach them a lesson. Tell them to stop objectifying women. To stop only seeing bleach-blond hair, big breasts,  and a lady whose got back — as the epitome of womanhood.

All of this is special and may make you who you are. The right men will adore your body, and it’s unique proportions. But they’ll adore your mind and your soul equally. They’ll treat you — what a word — specially.

And your man will try his hardest, to ensure you see you are valuable to him. All of you, from your hair to your toes. From your thoughts to your soul. 

Don’t do the walk of shame again and be ashamed for expressing your sexuality. If it’s what you desire you should know, you better make him a number before he turns you into one.

You best believe me lady. You are falling for a con. And you’re pushing back the women’s movement when you give into his charm. When he hasn’t put the work into, seeing you for who you are.

Poem: “Learning to Forget.”


 

(www.pixebay.com) Goodbye Kiss
 
Time to forget the colour of your eyes. Blue and wide, deep as any blue one can fathom, with laugh lines beginning to crinkle.

Time to forget your voice and any connection we had as we spoke. It’s a long time since I saw you. We haven’t talked in years, but I remember the teasing tone of your voice. 

A flutter in my heart. A feeling of anxiety. The way you stared at me as if you were pulling me a part trying to find in me, what you wanted to see.

Time to forgive what was never done and never said. You don’t think of me, so why should I think of you. Time to forgive an apology you never gave. 

And if I’m honest there was and is a smoothness to you I am afraid of finding still. Never trust a smooth talker, you don’t know what hides behind the layers of conversation.

If I’m to forget, I must forget your lips. A wide full set of lips and a hand gently stroking my back. If I’m wise, I’ll remember not one single bit.

For I was a girl then and now I am a women. Time to move on as you have moved on.Time to forget. But first loves pierce a hole through your heart and it’s hard to forget and forgive.

When you’re permanently scarred and the path you chose then still leads into the now. It’s difficult to not remember, and not be jealous of her.I always wanted your happiness and in the end, that is my end.

Years will pass by. I’ll pray for you still. Out of habit I think. And the piece of me you stole at such a young age remains half-healed. A wound that won’t repair until I see eternity and understand everything. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved. 

Writing 201 – Ode/Metaphor – Promised Land


To praise the softness of your skin would be a noble pleasure.

But the mounds of muscles that anchor on your chest are a struggle of roads and paths that make skin so soft, hard underneath.

You are a safety haven, a place that I call home, you are the soldier of the open road coming back to me.

And I travel down the pathway of your arms and pause a moment at the roads of muscle, my fingertips on your back.

I stop a moment at the nape of your neck and kiss a trail up to your earlobe and suck on it, an apple from the tree knowledge.

Running my fingers through your hair, the tug and pull is aimless, it smells like citrus, wood, and a place I call my own.

Your lips are a valley I often travel, the palace of a kingdom; a warm and wet holiday in a place of intense hot weather.

Your eyes are the blue that see through me, they reflect, and they are a mirror; they make me feel I am a jewel, the most precious of all stones.

But deep inside your heart beats and your soul is a hungry vessel; I know the dangers of this journey, of here there could be peril.

You are a map to the hidden kingdom, and I am the only one who knows the way – you are my soul and my heartbreaker, my own promised land.