Photo Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Without A Sound” #amwriting #poetry #love


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt:

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Credit: Rich Howman

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Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

Swing her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift;

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All to happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Perserved in time the clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

Years slide forward, what can you do but, 

Move forward too, memories cause a rut. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found, 

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—-

Swept her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift. 

Wiggling and giggling in your —

Arms; begging to have legs on ground restored

She thought she was too heavy for your back, 

You just laughed and kept her close, said “Relax.” 

You were walking barefoot on the cool —

Wet ground, the grass made you slip, such glad fools. 

Drop of joy harnessed in a crystal glass

Kept to hold, make the precious moments last. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found,

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound.

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All too happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Lovers as close as lovers can be, rolling —

On the blanket, on grass, after strolling.

Gleam in her eyes promising heaven, 

Twist of her smile taking you to Never —

-land of pirates, lost boys, and she, Wendy, 

Picking up a sword, fighting for her when —

Pirates attacked; shoeless running in real

Life; time ceasing again, treasures for feels. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

——

Perserved in time, clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

The truth is hard to swallow, to remember

Years pass, euphoria is dismembered

Harsh realities, sickness, health; sickness wins, 

She flew away my sparrow with the wind.

Such disease sucks the life from a body, 

Hope, a religious dream from pain prodded. 

A new eternity to love, swing round with —

Dirty bare feet and love despite death’s grip. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

19. How Was Last Night For You: Talise’s Cave and John’s Nightmare


Please read Chapter 18 here.

Chapter 19: Talise’s Cave and John’s Nightmare.

John had borrowed a motor boat from his brother Jordan, who enjoyed taking the boat out fishing. He had considered asking Jordan to come with him, but he hadn’t wanted to risk his younger brother’s life. John had his sailing boat but it wasn’t inconspicuous enough for him to take out to Tia’s hallowed cave.

An immense moon hung in the night sky, as if it were a giant orb of white gold. John recalled the full moon when he had first meant Nina. He thought about Nina always, without meaning to think of her.

It had only been a week since John had last seen Nina, at his parents house,  and he missed Nina exceptionally. During her time healing from her concussion, John and Nina had been inseparable. John felt a sickening in his stomach when he recalled how he had left Nina, crying and begging him not to end their relationship.

But stronger than the misery John felt missing Nina, was the fear he perceived for Nina’s life. John had snapped when Nina was almost mowed down by a giant red pickup truck, surely Tia’s doing. He had taken the only action he could think of without exploding in rage, frustration, and  animosity concerning Tia; John left Nina hurting.

John had realized the best way for him to keep Nina safe from Tia, was for him to keep his distance from her. Especially since Tia was after Nina, and wanted her heart. Maybe now, Tia would take John’s heart. It wasn’t as if John had much of a heart left after being cursed to have horrific events occur around him for ten-years, and after letting Nina go.

On the way home from parents house,  John experienced a ‘feeling’ he hadn’t sensed it a while. A horrific event was about to occur. Two vehicles behind John’s Mercedes collided and were in a serious car accident. John had called 911 immediately and the Adare Fire Department had had to bring in the ‘jaws of life’ to cut a critically injured man out of his smashed white Corolla. John had given a witness statement and stopped to assist at the wreckage. He knew that he was the one whose curse was responsible for the severely injured people and their destroyed vehicles.

John’s curse had returned and the fact further enraged John, who was already in a dangerous  mood due to Nina’s near accident. He had gone home and worked the hell out of a punching bag and pulled out his favourite luxury vodka.

Nina was the most precious person to John, he loved her. He hadn’t admitted it to her but it was true. He knew it inside. John had asked Rianne and his family to keep on eye on Nina after his fight. Even if having his family in Nina’s life was weird when Nina and John weren’t speaking. Rianne was at Nina’s condo tonight while John was out, searching for Tia’s soul or the dagger that she carried.

Jordan’s motor boat puttered along the Sirene Lake, it wasn’t exceedingly noisy, so John had some stealth approaching Tia’s cave. The night was clear and the moonlight lit John’s path. He was guiding the boat along some stone edifices when he came to the hidden piece of white beach and cave, Tia’s sanctuary.

Tia and John had come here years ago, to make love and enjoy each other’s company. Tia had insisted John and her come here to relax and be together. Presently, in the chilly night air, the former haven of white sand seemed forbidding. John brought the motor boat as close to the beach as he could. He dropped anchor, stepping out into the freezing water, grazing his thighs. No matter, John had worn a black wetsuit for his mission.

John carried a flashlight with him, but he didn’t turn the flashlight on. He was waiting to see if Tia might be here. In the past, John knew, Tia slept in her cave. She didn’t seem to feel the cold as human’s did. She came to her secret place when she was angry or hurt, so there was a substantial chance, Tia was here.

He should stop calling her Tia, John thought. The young girl John knew as Tia no longer existed. Talise was the name of the seawitch, the horrible bitch who tried have Nina run down and had given Nina a serious concussion.

Warily, John tiptoed through the white sand in his bare feet, heading for Talise’s cave with the fantastic crystal mirror, Tia’s looking glass she called it. As he crept, John recalled the dreams he had been having of Talise lately. In these dreams he felt as if he was stuck in quicksand. He could not make his own body move. He had no control, as Talise dragged Nina out into the deepest part of the Sirene Lake where Nina was murdered.


 

” John, help me!” Nina screamed to John in his nightmare.” Why won’t you move? Talise is trying to drown me and I can’t get free. Talise’s magic has made her strong.”

In his nightmare, Talise would laugh maniacally at John, while forcing Nina into more treacherous depths.

” You can do nothing, John,” Talise would say, her voice gravely and low. “Nina your heart is mine! No one will find you in the middle of the Sirene Lake, no one can save you from my cursed dagger. Going through your heart, the dagger will be sharp and painful Nina. I will kill you slowly, to take your soul. The ritual requires me to do so. And I don’t mind at all . . .” Talise raged.

“It’s your fault Nina. You should’ve stayed far away from John. I warned you he was not for you. John’s mine. I merely wanted him to suffer before I came back to him. We are meant to be… but you changed fate. Now John loves you and I’ve been forced to bewitch him. John can only do what I order him to do — he has no free will. He’s going to watch from the shallow water, while I kill you and steal your soul.” In the nightmare, Talise was evil. She had become a depraved shadow of her former self.

John would try with all his might to move his body, to stop Talise. But always, the same event occurred in his dream. John regarded Talise in abhorrence and loathing as she stabbed his beloved through her heart. Talise took her time, drawing out Nina’s suffering. Tears flowed down John’s cheeks as Nina languished in agony, begging for Talise to kill her faster.

Then, the life would perceptibly flicker out of Nina’s pale blue eyes. John could always see this detail well. John would feel as if he was holding Nina as he cried witnessing deep red blood, Nina’s life force, seeping out of her body into the Sirene Lake.

Talise would chant an ancient language, while John wept with fury, experiencing a sharp pain in his own chest, at Nina’s death. Then a luminous glowing  orb would float above Nina’s body. Nina’s soul would arise and come to rest in a special container Talise held in her hand. John was traumatized. He could see the details of the container well. It was a clear, round, sphere, materialized of magic.

Talise would laugh maniacally watching John grieve. John remembered in his nightmare, the feeling of himself dying inside as Nina’s corpse, white and stiff , floated by Talise in the Sirene. John didn’t understand why his his nightmare felt so life-like.

Inside John experienced immense sorrow and rage against Talise. But he had no control over his free will. When Talise called for him to join her deeper in the Sirene Lake’s water, John obediently swam out to her. Talise gave John Nina’s soul, brilliant in the magic orb. In his nightmare he recalled thinking, it was his last piece of Nina. Talise smirked as John grasped the sphere and hid it in his pocket sadly.

John tred water in the Sirene Lake, while Talise appeared to float effortlessly. When Talise tried to kiss him, more tears leaked out of John’s eyes. He was crying for Nina and could not stop. But John didn’t make a sound as Talise demanded he kiss her. He did so with ardor, even though it wasn’t ardor he felt for Talise, only disgust and loathing.

John had woken every night that past week, since Nina was nearly hit by the red truck, sweating profusely with tears running down his stubbled cheeks. The nightmare drained John and he had a feeling, this dream could become reality if he did not stop Talise. Nina could die and John would be doomed to live a life, a slave to Talise’s desires. John involuntarily shivered.

Please Read Chapter 20 here.


 

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Poem: Free Verse – “Paper Bag Princess.”


  
Here’s for the meanings and the seemings,

The words we’ve been breathing, though they are concealing,

We’re never hidden behind steal, or a solid wall of bricks.

And we’re shamed, peeking out of ‘the cupboard,’ hiding like the Indian did from a childhood book.

 We move through our thoughts, the glances of others who don’t understand —

What it means to remain hidden.

——

They’re all out there with their sunglasses and dreamy looks,

 In a world finding love, come together — some love separates. 

And I haven’t spent the days before Valentine’s Day dreaming,

 I don’t need a man to give me flowers or chocolates. 

I don’t need more demands and inferences of combinations dialled,

Short and electric, but fizzles and drizzles, as the rain pours outside. 

Dividing our time between sleeping and daylight,

And the sun keeps on rising; 

I keep on imprivising all the things I’m construing,

In a mind filled with despising a guy who I left.

Who made me know what it hurts like to feel neglect,

After he’s gone on, but still calling — I wish he would stop.

 That I could forget all about these “tygers” and their wants. 

I’m not happy nor comfortable, unless they get their cut, pieces of my being;

They’re dividing me among each other, taking the best cuts and leaving the scraps.

—–

And outside is a puppy and I want to hold her, because she doesn’t need much —

Only to eat, walk, cuddle, play, and go wee.

She needs her nails clipped and her teeth brushed sometimes. 

I’m a woman begging everyday of her life for things I’m uninspired to give,

If you won’t even attempt to do better, make it as important as a ‘business deal.’

 I’m not above you or below you you dirty-thirty-something.

 I’m just looking for meaning among people who are loyal.

I’m caught in my dreams, betwixt the real and the “real” in this Wonderland. 

And if we look through the ‘looking glass’ we only see people in poverty,

Who are thinking only of eating and surviving. 

Loving doesn’t matter much when you are looking for fresh water, 

When you’re sickly and dying — or does it matter most?

——

But here, won’t you hear me —

In our first- world of problems — 

I’m trying! I’m trying — but it’s never enough.

You dragons eat your steaks and leave me with nothing but my dry bones. 

You ravish a ‘paper-bag princess’ and leave her without a stitch;

Clothes that cover her heart.

And you suck her organs dry of blood and all matter,

You leave a her exposed for the vultures to grasp at,

 You break open a bottle of liquor and the whole room explodes, 

Covered in champagne and the bubbles make you choke.

Sifting through closets, cover up my exposed heart,

I don’t want to reveal myself but in the “real” world I must.

 Because if your broken your fixable and can be put back together,

 A mirror that’s shattered and eternally busted.

——

And these words may make little sense but that’s what you call — prose poetry,

Of a girl, who’s  a woman, who’s a child, who’s lured by the promises,

Of a blackness so bleak no one can see in front of their face,

Because in the darkest depths, the light shines brightest.

Arise and save yourself, 

Think of the words to describe your freedom desired —

Taylor Swift wrote it well: ” It’s too late for you and your white horse to catch me now.”

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: A Night at Home


alone girl
http://www.pixhome.blogspot.com
On a lonely Saturday night she sat at home, turning textbook pages. She was supposed to be reading but the words blurred before her.

Like any other night she was at home, no place to go when you have limited energy. No place to go when your friends are coupled up.

The night outside was peaceful, and it was warm for November. When the darkness rolled in, it was fast a midnight sky.

And the stars twinkled down on her, she hadn’t seen them glimmer in ages; she felt as if they knew her secrets, that she longed to be strong again.

But the stars had heard billions of pleas for change and prayer to prevent suffering. They reigned down supreme as many begged to Him ‘on high’ for relief.

The snow lit the ground so it was slightly easier to see. When you drove home it shone, a white neon sign that was to remain until April.

And the houses with their lights off were slightly alarming. The world was out celebrating that the holidays were here. But some people were just stuck, marinating in their chairs.

But not everyone could party on warm nights. Some such as her, had things to do and places to be tomorrow.

But what she wouldn’t trade to be as most everyone, to not have to worry when the clock struck midnight. Not to have to feel a sickening in her stomach.

To not feel a terrible exhaustion hit her and feel herself fading away while the people around her move like puppets, never knowing that for her something isn’t right

The sound becomes to much, her ears are hurting. There are too many people here now. And she runs for the door only to be stopped by a woman she knows little, slurring her words on Bourbon.

Yes, better to stay at home and have a glass of wine. Better to stay at home and ace the exam on Tuesday. Better to be well for tomorrow and do some Christmas browsing. Better to be well.

But she can’t stop from wanting what she knows she can’t have. She prays every night but He ‘on high’ keeps whispering for her to go on, how she is. She’ll be fine.

And for her, that’s not an option. That’s not a choice. That is a sentence given and she lacks the power to change her direction.

Flipping pages is alright some of the time. But some nights are for party dresses, and high heels. Some nights are for music and a fantastic meal.

Some nights are for friends and staying up until dawn. Some nights are for memories that keep carrying you on.

But some nights are for typing and writing a poem. Writing on the screen what she is thinking and wondering if anything will change.

Or if the world will keep on spinning endlessly, ignoring her prayers. But she keeps on writing because it’s an escape from her mind.

Where the wheels are turning and the clock won’t go round, wondering when she can again begin; to begin anew, does that take until New Years?

—–

 

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.