#OctPoWriMo Day 22: Poem – Free Verse – “More than Poetry” #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 22 the prompt is betrayal.


Credit: Mark Zimmerman via Unsplash


It’s not betrayal is it?

Your visage, your sweet face?

Crinkled laugh lines with delicate hands you sew;

The quilter mending patients square by square.

It’s no lie is it?

Your eyes how they sparkle,

Crinkle at corners I caress.

It’s no lie is it?

Your fervent prayers to God, your blessings?

Tell me you’re for real.

Once too many times, the knife has slipped between my ribs —

I know your heart it’s battered too,

Betrayals slick slim choking your breath.

But, it’s okay, you and I can unfurl our wings together, and fly without feathers.

We’ve wings of greater substance.

Though scar tissue worsens each wound, we’ll strive on and on, and on.

So, please don’t snap me — or woe on you who would betray.

For now, night creatures chirp, rumple leaves beside our hiding place.

This Eden amidst midnight stars; morns unfolding rays —

You’re for real aren’t you?

Fingers trace your jaw, your shadow,

Absorb the sun heating your skin;

Later, the moon reflects within your inscrutable eyes.

And life is too raw and too real — a brokenness revealed.

So, please be for real, more than words; for people are not poetry.

Be more than verbal affluence,

Be the poem that’s twilight and sweet whispers true;

A place to rest even in struggle;

Let us not betray confidence, let us not scatter our love to the four winds’ turbulence.

Stay near, your breath warming mine,

Let’s tend our love, and be gentle amidst life’s destructive storms.

Let’s be more than poetry.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Sunday Photo Fiction: ‘All Hope Abandon Ye Who Enter Here’ #amwriting #flashfiction #Dante #TheInferno


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

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“THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of Power divine, Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.” –  The Divine Comedy, The Inferno (Canto III. Lines 1 -9). 

——-

“Abandon all hope? How can this be right?  I didn’t kill anyone and I was no pervert. I stood for my political office. I did what I had to do,” Ker said. 

“How do you know it was the right cause?” 

“Well, I just do.”

“What about those you hurt along the way? Your wife, Meredith, who now rests in Heaven’s fold? You’re here at the gates of Hell at the river Acheron for a reason,” the wise Charon told Ker. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, to use her to get where I needed to go. I loved her, but I didn’t mean to leave her. I prayed and I apologized. I admitted my sins to a priest in confession. Yet, here I am in Hell at the Traitors’ Gate, why here?”

Charon sighed and whisked the regretful Ker’s soul into the boat. “I wonder Ker, where Midas will send you? Will you be in the eighth circle as a corrupt politician or the ninth circle for being a traitor to your wife, to your family? Will you spend eternity ‘a Judas?'”

Ker shook his head, “This is nothing but a dream. Dante’s Inferno does not exist. I won’t abandon hope, I won’t. Meredith is not dead and I’m not really here.”

“But you did stop hoping and you’re a traitor so now you face the Traitors’ Gates. You are one of them and that’s why this gate is where you will enter into the ninth circle of Hell.”

“What?! I’m so sorry, I mean it. I repent. I’ll do better and change my ways. Tell me this is just a dream, let me have another chance.”

Charon chuckled and shook his head wearily.”It seems someone up high is fighting for your soul, Ker, I don’t why because your soul is pitch black. Yet, you will have another chance. Remember you won’t get another.”

—–

Ker awakes suddenly whispering pleading prayers in words of Latin and Ancient Greek. He doesn’t know why he understands these prayers to God, but he does. Ker attempts to pick up his smartphone nearby but feels terrible pain whenever he moves. 

Then, his beautiful Meredith walks in the hospital room door. “Meredith? I thought you were dead. That you would never speak to me again. I thought you were in Heaven and I was in Hell, I dreamt it.”

Meredith smiled at Ker with love despite how he had treated her recently: “Who do you think asked God to give you a second chance? I gave up eternity for a later time, hoping you will be there with when I return. Now you must fulfill your promises made in front of Charon.”

“So, can you change, Ker? Can you stop being a traitor and fight for ‘the good’ in this world? Can you fight for me, for us, for our family?” Meredith asked. 

Ker was just grateful to be alive. He swore to do better in life, in love, and he did. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

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Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

——

As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

——

Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

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You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

—–

Credit: Laces and Tiaras

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Alouette – “Murderer” #amwriting #poetry #poison


Thanks to Poets United for the poetry prompt: Predator and Prey.

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http://www.quotesgram.com

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Loved being your girl, 

But, done with this world.

Preyed on, murdered viciously.

Hunted, forcibly;

Caught, controllably.

Trapped in sucking quick-sand.

——-

Stuck in thought in —

My head; beg within, 

Is this the end?  You and —

I, are no more to —

Be; merely, see -through, 

Another couple out of hand.

——

My skin is white, pale.

I’m not cold, don’t wail.

Hours ago, you poisoned me, 

I fell asleep no —

Pain; not yours, dead though.

Hate seethed through you, love which bleeds.

—–

When did it leave us?

Love, affection, trust?

Did you become predator

When he looked at me? 

He’s vapour; Freely —

Loved you; your prey; died with gore.

——

But I’m above clouds, 

Mistakes by cowards.

Shutting you out, I never

Ingrained hurtful pain, 

Inside your body; lame —

Excuses, you’re a murderer.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.