Writing Prompt: Poem – Blank Verse – “Atlantis In Popular Culture” #poetry #amwriting #history #legend 


Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt. First we are to go to Wikipedia and go to the ‘Random Article’ Button, his is our title. Second we are to HERE and find a randomly generated picture. 

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Credit: http://writingexercises.co.uk/random-images.php

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Ring the bells ring them, sound organ pipes too, 

Atlantis sinks to obscurity

Earth trembles, calls with a tune sung, 

Ring the bells; last time you’ll hear them out loud. 

Artistic endeavour, artisan’s craft, 

Carved pipes; hear the organ it booms last. 

Earthquakes, rocks tumble, falling into time. 

A void in the earth barely felt until now. 

Modern humans are obsessed by her,

A lost city never found; for it’s day —

Full of vision, construction, art, thought. 

City that felt it was the greatest, 

The gods thought otherwise; earth swallowed, 

City Atlantis whole, taking everyone. 

Down to earth’s depths, in it’s belly kept, 

Here lies Atlantis hidden, there wasn’t —

Much difference between ‘us’ now and them.

Or hundreds of cities –past, present;

Civilization thousands of years old, 

It isn’t that the the ocean and land, 

Just ended a city; it’s the people

Inside who forget about decency.  

Treating each other terribly and —

No thought for tomorrow, hearts so, 

Cold, stone rigid; they sink themselves down, 

Into the water until they’re nothing

Nothing but a dream, not even memory, 

Just something modern people wonder of, 

Forgetting lessons as Atlantis did. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Poem: Free Verse – “Walls and Wings” (Reposted from Aug 2013)  #poetry #amwriting #relationship


This came up on my FB feed. I wrote it three-years ago and actually am happy with the way the poem was written, with some small changes. 

I was in a relationship and felt trapped. I longed to escape. I did; for this reason, I smile when I read this poem.

I broke free and things are all the better because I was given the strength to fly.

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http://www.motaen.com

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When the walls press in on me, cold stone, slimy, and grainy.

I search for the window which opens, when prison doors close.

Metal bolted tightly, oppression ripe in stale breath;

Little holes for air, aligned metal cylinder by metal cylinder.

I peer out the door and see a tiny hope blooming.

A Lilly in the cell corner opens slowly — white, soft, and curled.

Beautiful, lonely; the more you try to understand beauty, 

The more you see it’s fleeting.

 A Lily in the corner, with little light — it’s dying.

No window will shine sunlight on it’s glory, 

The cryptic darkness covers and creeps. 

The beautiful wilts, wanes, warped – a brown wasted mess.

Sitting in the corner, nothing pretty here — the pretty is ghostly.

The length of light, coming through, above the window sill fades;

All were left with is darkness, and dusk sets in quickly.

Purple bruises in the sky, which I can scarcely see, 

Slither into to a deep black dullness, 

No stars shine in the prisoner’s sky.

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Bracelets of steel, cold, and unforgiving — small wrists will not fit;

Through these round holes, which cut and divide, 

Hand from praying hand, at the 4:00 am hour.

I do not understand or know, how long I can take this.

To not want the fate of another, is it too much to ask? 

To be disappointed, not understood, used until I’m broken. 

To always be alone right next to another person, 

To always write these words sad and full of loathing.

Guns in the night, shoot me first.

These shackles are no golden bracelets, 

No silver charms adorn them;

You can’t buy this jewelry at Pandora

Steel is only made at rough factories. 

Oppressive, only manufactured, never crafted —

In grace and finery, with delicacy and laughter tingling.

Every time you shake the charms, tiny bells ring.

What do you do when charms no longer charm?

And brightness narrows into a black hole? 

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I think you run, slipping through the window.

You don’t look back,  though your feet hurt, 
To run on rocks and sand, and weep blood to be free.

I think you go, no matter how. 

Before you’re trapped, and chained to walls of slimy stone.

You turn and go, before those eyes see you; 

Those eyes you thought saw you but — don’t see you at all.

 And only have memories of days gone by.

You run because to be alone with eyes,

Is too alone; the stone angel trapped in fragility of life,

 Wasting her days, growing bitter and aged;

Never forgiving, the young, who see light with possibility.

The light rises over, a cold moon rises;

 Refreshes and results in absolution.

A crime has been committed, but sometimes laws, 

Must be broken to live in self – forgiveness, in self-acceptance.

This world is not black and white; my feet take off —

Crouch, then sprout talons, and white wings at my back. 

All of this for freedom, to become a bird, 

A lesser creature, all to fly in heavens glory.

All for that feeling in your chest, 

Where you can finally breathe. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Harmony in the Park


Thank you to The Daily Prompt for the word prompt harmony.

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I’m sitting cross legged  in the middle of a grassy hill at the park on Saturday as I meditate and observe. People walk their dogs and the occasional cat. They walk in couples and families, some complete with strollers of bawling twins. There are those who stroll, those who amble, and those who power walk, their arms swinging absurdly.

Runners zip inbetween the walkers to keep up their pace. Dogs being walked on their leash on the paved trail, happily jump on the runners for a sniff and to say hello with curiousity. A runner does not know if a particular dog is friends or foe. It is easiest for them to keep their distance in the hub-bub of trail traffic. But one runners can’t help but laugh as a furry dog lavishes him with friendly dog kisses.

On the off leash trails I wander now, and dogs run free chasing each other, it’s all a  glorious canine game. Cyclists come racing, tearing down the gravel trails on their bikes with bells to warn people of their presence. They don’t appear to realize these gravel and wood chip trails are built for the dogs and their humans. 

Go back to the paved trails in the park you cyclists. Some dogs are frightened by cyclists and may lunge at them. Cyclists are too loud (as are the rollerbladers) for many dogs and they could get hurt (along with the cyclist) if cyclists remain in the dogs’ zone of unleashed freedom on the off leash trails.

Children run around back in the grass in the park, playing fantasy and make believe with invisible friends. A playground is full of small children swinging, jumping, and sliding in bliss.Giggles and laughs decorate the air. An entire conversation happens between young Mackenzie and her invisible friend Charlie. 

A Mom yells to her toddler, “Come back,” as he nears a volleyball match in session. I watch with interest as the  match takes place in an area of sand and I pause to watch the match finish, team blue is victorious! 

I sit back on the grass under a tree and watch the clouds slowly moving cotton puffs in the sky. A tired dog approaches me and I sit on lush green grass and pet his baby-soft black fur. I miss this, the closeness of woman and dog. This peace of humanity and animals, in the park, is what I call harmony — as close to it as we can hope for on earth.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.