#OctPoWriMo Day 13/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Blitz – “Pressure Engraved” #amwritingpoetry #100WordWordWednesday


For OctPoWriMo Day 13 the Prompt is If I We’re You. Also, I’m combining with 100 Word Wednesdays from Bikurgurl’s Photo Prompt.


Are there things you sometimes need to get off your chest? When was the last time you felt strongly that someone needed to see things from your point of view? I think this prompt lends itself perfectly to a Blitz Poem.


Credit: Alex Ilby


Such pressure rising as the dim lake drowns

Putrid water invades mr lungs, crushes my chest

Chest choking salt-water terrified

Chest rasping with each tiny breath

Breath weighted with ocean filth

Breath that’s sticky, wet, toxic

Toxic fears cripple my legs, tire-out hands treading

Toxic fears of the half-dead: I’m gasping

Gasping, a dumbbell crushing my lungs

Gasping as I let out deep breathes to cleanse

Cleanse my spirit of skin shivering

Cleanse my heart of this stress-inducing love

Love that drowns and makes me whole

Love that lets me finally find

Find a blissful beach without monstrous waves

Find a warm place on the sand to sleep

Sleep, I yearn for it as banshees screech

Sleep, I beg for it as the predators howl

Howl as I quiver, biting my nails

Howl as my courage trickles away– I’m outwitted

Outwitted by breathless panic, desperate pain

Outwitted, the Minotaurs talons clawing my neck

Neck enwrapped with silken scarves choking

Neck bundled beneath feather-silk, dreams killing

Killing me softly, these life-altering responsibilities

Killing me softly, these rigid expectations

Expectations you hold of I so meek

Expectations you hold, not understanding —

Understanding I’m a pins width from crashing

Understanding how with difficulty, I have strived

Strived to be where I am

Strived to be myself and arise

Arise, but not to discover I’m disadvantaged

Arise, but not to ignore my intuitive doubts

Doubts as steel wool scratches

Doubts as I’m carried out by the tide in the storm’s silence

Silence, if only for a moment I can collapse

Silence, self-care to reforge my walls

Walls of back-breaking stone, tough alloys

Walls that keep the creatures harming at bay, to —

To keep me safe, crippled shoulders un-tensed

To keep my bastion strong, so I can lay me down

Lay me down without your vise-like grip engraved

Lay me down to recover, before I rise to respire and inhale

Gripping my hands, crescent marks engraved

No trembling stress shocking, only mountain air to inhale.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part 4 – Nineteen-Years Laters


Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

—–

A Mixed Bag

——-
 Chad, Bastion, and Uncle Sam, had taken a flight to Amsterdam after the house in the mountainside of Switzerland, turned out to be a death trap. After finding one of Bastions ‘safe’ houses, Bastion slipped away to do business.

Sam had ruffled Chad’s hair. “You’ve still got your gun on you? Just in case, keep it close.” 

They began to walk on the opposite side of the street, away from a flower market. When Chad’s Uncle paid for two tickets to the medieval torture museum, Chad begged, “Please not in there. . .” 

 “It’s for secrecy and privacy Chad. I’m going to answer your questions about your Dad.” Sam said chuckling.

They walked into a room showcasing a few racks. Uncle Sam and Chad pretended to look at the torture devises.

“There was fight between your Dad’s squadron and an enemy squadron. Tom was undercover and to most of his fellow marines, it appeared as if one of their own had turned. Tom wasn’t expecting to run into his own squad.” Uncle Sam said softly.

“Your Dad was loyal. Only a few marines who ranked with him, knew he was undercover. Bastion knew and so did a man named Garig; the three were close friends in school.”

“Somehow, Tom was shot; it took the rest of his squadron too long to figure out, he wasn’t the enemy. Your Dad knew who among his squad was actually working for the enemy before the encounter.” 

“So who was it?”  Chad asked.

“Well, Tom talked to me a day or two before he was sent undercover. He was sure he knew who the traitor was then; he had proof.” 

” It’s not Bastion,” Sam said quickly. “Tom suspected Gerig because he had been disappearing for long periods of time. Gerig had also been jealous about your Dad marrying Mona; Gerig was in love with your Mom. He also had other information he couldn’t tell me . . .”

” Tom said he had proof Gerig was the enemy, that he was betraying his friends and squad.” 

“How could Dad know? And why is Gerig chasing us?” Chad mumbled.

“What Gerig was involved in . .. It’s on your body and proves his guilt.” Uncle Sam said.

“My tattoo?” 

“Well, yeah. Who gets their kid a tattoo at six-months-old, Chad?” Uncle Sam whispered.

“It’s a Bambi cartoon of an actual seal; I hated it in gym.” Chad muttered. 

“You have to read it the right way to retrieve the information. Only, the right technology can read it.” 

“Like 3D glasses?” Chad asked.

“No, I’m afraid not . . ” Sam couldn’t finish his sentence; he heard screams and people talking noisily.

Running towards the clammer, Chad and Uncle Sam gazed up horrified, as the body of Bastion hung from the noose of a medieval execution scene.

Chad shivered. “It’s Garig. He knows.” He turned around in a circle, wondering if Garig was here.

The palest eyes, nearly white, stared through the crowd at Chad. 

Uncle Sam dragged him away, “The pale-eyed man, it’s him. Chad wake-up. Do you want to die?” 

Chad narrowed his eyes at Garig but inside, his stomach began to twist.

——

Read Part 3 here. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.