Poem: Free Verse – “A Congested Mind” #poetry #amwriting 


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They call it the unknown

The future lying before you. 

No matter if you’re psychic, 

No one knows what happens. 

There are varied scenarios,

Ways it could play out, 

But truly we don’t know the future

It’s a mystery creeping forward, 

And it pulls us along on our knees.

Whether we go willingly, 

Or go kicking and screaming;

Time marches in to the beat,

Of father time’s own drum. 

****

I don’t know what’s coming, 

I know worrying won’t help. 

I think sometimes I try to give advice, 

Reassuring myself in kind. 

There are bright possibilities, 

Hoping people become, 

More kind than they are mean to each other. 

Pray people look-out for each other, 

But sometimes I think society is self-centred. 

I admit to such fault and others too,

But I’m still fearful;

When I think of a year or two ahead, 

I’m afraid what if it’s not the right plan? 

Experience deftly taught me,

Plans are dim outlines of reality. 

Mostly, life goes where it goes

And God only knows where or why. 

Leading us through dark valleys, 

Into trenches with piercing bullets flying. 

Into classrooms with screaming kids, 

A gunmen on the loose. 

He leads us through to people, 

Whose power makes one nervous. 

How even democracy isn’t safe —

A tyrant could rule all. 

Maybe the world will surprise me, 

But I fear for the little person. 

*****

My own personal fears weigh heavy, 

Though others bear pains greater. 

Of lawyers and cases, 

Of corruption and crime. 

Those crimes we deem terrible;

Those crimes brushed under the rug. 

Greed and all those other sins,

Abhorred but freely ignored. 

Though I can never say what’s worse —

My own flaws or imperfections

Or those I’m faced with. 

Stress shows through cracks, 

Egg yokes running. 

No one likes raw eggs except in cookie dough

The future is overwhelming. 

But at least they’ll still be cookie dough, 

And I don’t know why —

I’m particular and observant

Why I know it’s better to be alone

Than be truly alone with another. 

Why I wait for that spark

Why I wait for the morning dawn. 

A smile in his eyes which is genuine

Wherever he is. 

But maybe happiness is a puppy

Paws following me on the hardwood, 

Barks at random sounds. 

The glory of a puppy skidding down —

The off leash trail and wheeling;

Turning around to jump on me, 

To pick her up when she’s tired. 

*****

My bones are stiff and ridged

My dreams fall to despair

So many books and writers, 

And not anyone can compare

How to rise above the masses, 

Or fill your own niche contented. 

But perhaps one could be something

Success in small moments. 
Afraid and weighted

Need to cry, tears unshed, 

Because disease is cruel. 
Even if Heaven is the end of the tunnel,

So many words are left unsaid

The timing of it all, does it work? 

I feel alienated

Though I try hard to keep the connection

It’s all in your planning Lord;

So must I say, your will be done.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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#OctPoWriMo – Day 18 – Ottava Rima – “Nature’s Cradle” #amwriting #poetry


Day 19 Prompt: Tree

Trees are necessary for our very existence on this earth, they produce the air we breathe. We build houses with them and create many products that we use everyday with them. What personal role do trees have in your life? Do you have a favorite tree in your yard or one that you walk or drive by frequently? Free write for ten minutes exploring the world of trees.”

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The park is peaceful silent, as mid-day sun strays, 

Walking through foliage, even footsteps —

Can be heard, where branches carve a ceiling cave. 

Though the sky is cheerful blue, branches yet, 

Make the trails paved, a hollowed place away —

Screaming city lights, and loud conversation met, 

With the quiet, the tranquil breath, gifted by trees, 

No sadness here, a happy place held dear. 

—–

The drifting leaves, paying tole, to dancing wind, 

Blowing the rebirth of trees and their seeds far. 

Slow lazy walk, furry dog smelling scents, grins. 

Curious thing, to see a dog smile, laughing bark.

Nature cradles us, magic trees rekindled. 

Hidden we are in treasured lands, our star —

Bright light always near, to show us the path to roam. 

Nature’s dreamy pause, returns with us to home. 

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” A Ottava Rima is a poem written in 8-line octives. Each line is of a 10 or 11 syllable count in the following rhyme:

1. one octive poem. abababcc
2. two octive poem. abababcc, dededeff

3. three octive poem. abababcc, dededeff, ghghghii.”

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Please see Shadow Poetry for more information

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 


NaPoWriMo: Poem – Cinquin – “Unconditional Love”


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And now for today’s (optional) prompt! Today, I challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. I think of the “surprise” ending to this James Wright Poem as a model for the effect I’m hoping you’ll achieve. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details. Happy writing!

For more information please visit NaPoWriMo

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Let me,

Tell you of her,

Fur so soft, silky, faun,

Course hair ontop, white underneath.

Ears back.

—–

Relaxed,

In this posture,

One paw on you always,

Rump on your lap, managed.

Love shown.

—-

On side, 

Lifting leg, paw,

Access given, sweet spot,

Rounded tummy, furry, blissful.

Eyes shut.

—–

Rub her,

Tummy, circle.

She’ll stay for hours while you,

Worship her tummy soft, peering up,

Brown eyes.

—–

Liner,

Of Northern Dogs,

Around her mischievous eyes,

For blocking out sunlight, arctic light.

Hackles.

—–

Raised,

When she thinks you’re,

Threatening her pack, protection —

Her job, in her domain, deep bark,

Incharge.

—–

Waiting

For her treat when, 

You’re finished with your lunch food,

She receives last bite and it seems more,

Pleased

—–

No charge, 

Unconditional,

Love a dog shows family,

Cuddling, thanking, and begging,

Large heart.

—–

Loving,

The way humans,

In her world should love,

Love each other, unconditionally,

So, hard! 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: He Came Home


“Hey girly. Such a good girl. How about a belly rub? Last one for a few months, I’ve got to go fight some bad guys. Seems as if there is an unending supply of them. That’s life, eh Emmie?” my Dad Dylan says.

Then, he kisses my Mom Kristine.” It’s going to be alright, Kristy. You know how well we’re trained for these missions. I’ll be back in a few months sweetheart. Email me, you can write me an old-fashioned letter even.”Dylan remarks soothing Kristine. 

“What if this is the time . . . I never see you again, and it’s only Emmie and I? I’ve only had five-years with you. It’s not enough.”

Dylan hugs Kristine tight and they both cry. I feel their sadness and cuddle between them to comfort us all. I whimper and I lick their salty hands.

“Emmie, you sucky girl. I’ll be home before you know it,” Dylan tells me giving me one last pet and kissing Kristine hard.

“Don’t go Dad, don’t leave us. Mom’s sad, I don’t want her to be sad. You didn’t walk me today. Mom will be too sad to walk me….” I yap to Dylan. But he leaves.

Ages pass before I hear Dylan whistle. I bark in delight; he came home.

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Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Horse Kisses


It was taking my mixed junior high class two-hours to arrive at the Ranch for the Deaf. There was several different activities to do there that could be done by those deaf or not. The Pastor who greeted us signed his words as he spoke to us and shared a devotion.

We ate hot dogs and roasted them on metal sticks over a fire pit. My teacher took our junior high class on a walk through the wilderness. I wasn’t to happy about this. If you know me, you know I am mostly an indoors girl due to allergies to fungi, grass, trees, other molds, and pollen. I swallowed my Bendryl with regret as I knew how tired it would make me later on.

We made walking sticks out of smaller trees, peeling the bark off them and rowed a boat in a body of water on the ranch. We learned how to shoot riffles. I remember the bruises I had on my shoulder from the kick-back of the guns.

Lastly, there were the horses who followed us behind wire and wood fences as we walked. I stopped for a moment and laid my hand on the nose of pretty brown chestnut horse. She sniffed me then laid her head on my shoulder as I stroked her snout and scratched behind her ears.

She was beautiful and breathtaking. She followed me as we continued to walk. When I came close to her she hid her nose in my hair and gave a few wet kisses to my neck. I didn’t and still don’t know a lot about horses. But as I found with certain dogs, I realized horses know something about people. They are drawn to certain people for whatever reason they are. They see in people for their souls and they adore you without requiring anything but a nice scratch and perhaps a carrot. Their’s  is a love that gives without regret.


Thanks to  Alistair Forbes for hosting!

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.