Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “The Healing Touch” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt challenge.

——–

Credit: Laura Williams

———

Many faces have I, but don’t let me evaporate.

Too many masks I wear within to cover the scars that bind,

The twisting vines of ruined skin,

Not even plastic surgery could heal.

And the whispers of the dreadful night,

They haunt me in my sleep.

Each nightmare worse than the last, entrenching me in madness.

Crying and shaking, in a world I cannot escape.

My screams echoeing from the domed ceiling,

In St. Peter’s Basilica, my heart a kindled pyre.

Does God hear me, my fervent prayers without pride?

I know if He did, he would answer what I seek,

Provide relief from the cruelty of my suffering;

Of the ache and the burn in my skin.

He’d be a cooling gentle wind to end the burning flames,

I hope in my meekness for God as Elijah knew.

I try to forget. to move on, hiding behind masks so I’m safe.

My scars are not physical but they hide beneath skin,

Where plastic surgery cannot salvage a broken soul.

I’m a wretched bloody mess and my stomach is churning,

Why are the worst injuries, the ones you cannot see?

Why do people only see skin deep?

Not many will peer beneath the perfect layers of white ivory,

To see the layers underneath charred and scorched.

Many will not look past the words on your lips,

They are not interested in how a person says certain words,

Or why they say what do.

Many people hear only what they want to hear,

And if you choose to scream,

Than you’re the crazy one seeking attention.

But many screams are silent,

Before they are ever heard out loud,

This is why we need listeners and those with empathy,

To overcome those overflowing with ignorance and apathy to life;

To realize there is meaning in helping your neighbor out.

For we all have hidden scars and screams,

And most of them are dug deeply within our souls.

They wind around a person’s heart, a choking vine envokes —

A cry for help, so please hear it, long before we shout out loud,

Be still for a moment and listen well.

Respond before the masks hide many other faces and mine;

Act before you start cutting into our hearts,

Doing much more harm than good.

Watch your words and carefully avoid —

Assault and battery, for refusing to help those in need —

Refusing to help those lost in their pain. 

Heal with laughter and conversation,

A piece of your precious time.

Do not forget the meek and lowly,

We all need help discovering pathways into stardust.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

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Collage Prompt: Poem – Rictameter – “Books and Cherries” #amwriting #poetry #collage


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Collage Prompt.


Collage MLMM
Credit: Shawn Van Deale the woman on the left: Johnny Palacois the woman/aloe vera plant on the right.

Humming,

As the bird who’s —

Thrumming in the air,

Struggling for each flutter so

Rapid; so utterly fast it’s blurring.

My wings in flight are haze to you,

You don’t see underneath;

Desperation,

Humming.

——

Darkness,

Arising in —

My stomach, spiraling,

To the surface out of my —

Broken soul that I mend in those worlds found,

In each and every story, novels —

Ending hiding; I’m no —

Crab in my shell’s —

Darkness.

——-

In dreams,

I writhe, I twist,

Tales of old and new —

Follow me when enters Sandman,

To calm adventures stripping me of sleep.

But just as I live in my books,

I live in nightmarish —

Tales at midnight,

In dreams.

——-

Awake,

Oh, sheltered one.

Let the black smoke rise, cleanse

Your body from your shattered self,

Set free your mind, let your spirit live,

Life’s the greatest adventure,

Stories read fill gaps;

Burst forth spirit,

Awake.

———

Cherries,

You’re sexy  as,

Women who curl cherry —

Stems into knots with skillful tongues.

Unafraid to bare your body,

When it’s appreciated.

With love, you expose your —

Soul; All for ripe

Cherries.

—-

As books,

Sweet red cherries,

From the Okanagan,

A valley of delicacies.

Driving through B.C. in summer, you —

Stop at every fruit stand,

Selling juicy fruit — truths;

Cherries savored,

As books.

—–

Smokescreen,

Floats up swirls as —

Papal smoke; the blackness,

Forgiven reading thousands

Of tales, every genre, every language.

Devouring ‘reads’ as cherries,

Demons gone; living with —

Wisdom taught, no —

Smokescreen.

——

Light’s glow,

In each tale read.

Nourishes souls; keeps me —

Aching to learn, wanting to know,

Of worlds, fantastic characters —

With hubris, compelling charm.

While some characters are —

Searching hard for,

Light’s glow.

—–

Writing,

It filled holes,

Torn in souls, in hearts wrecked,

The reader became author,

Discovering within her fingers lies a —

Haven, a solace of peace, rest;

Because the story grows —

In her, exposing —

Writing.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Poem: Free Verse – ” The Truth”


The following is a re-blog and re-edited version of an old poem I found:


pearl-in-clam
Credit: http://www.globe-views.com

The Truth is as a pearl,

polished and genuine,

Gleaming in the waters still.

Deep beneath where the —

Light dances and shimmies on the water’s surface.

It is something taken for granted, something I gave up.

It’s became this hole inside my heart burning, seething,

Twisted and warped beyond recognition.

An evil formed out of something so pure.

A repulsive ugliness which strangles me.


I want to give you that pearl let it gleam in the sun;

Let it adorn a jeweled neck, a sign of hope on a beauties breast.

But I lied and I took our security away,

I lashed myself tight to seaweed, strands of purple haze, watery worries —

They will be my grave, they will make you despise me.

For I am broken soul now and I cannot turn around.

I am set in my ways, though I wail and turn wane.

You are the light of a pearl, the soft flick of ashes, your lashes —

The soot of my pain, as I lie to you again.

The scent of those ashes, that burning acrid smell;

Reminds me of churches, of a place purer than pearls.

Where the air is so still I can hear my breath wrack,

Hear my heart beat, find forgiveness relief.

As I cry in my soul, it’s forgiven but torn.

While you pray to nothing, it separates us more.


I speak of a heart beat between you and me,

A quiet place we rest, but you make me cry in pain.

Wound me, complete me, and I bite my tongue

As my wry wit replies, to the pain on my peaches and cream,

The  bruises the aches in my legs, to find no peace.

In that, there is nothing but the trapping of my lies,

The seaweed grief come to strangle my reprieve.

A word of love, taken back, a thought, perhaps, I care little.

But when I am skin to skin and feel,

As close as to anyone that I’ve ever been,

When I would give to you what I’d give to no one else,

You turn your back, you leash me, stop my attempts to train,

So I swirl in and out of this complicated romance, the jumper in the whirlpool.

The one plashless, hopeless because she cannot take back time,

Thinks you and the pearl that glimmers in her eye, would have never been,

Had she not minced words and told you:

“I feel nothing — leave me be;

I enjoy the closeness but you are no shiny pearl of truth.”


I see the future unravel, unruly, uninvited coming near,

Ending because you refuse to believe,

In the significance of ashes and churches.

Because I refuse to live in the world,

The woman with a pearl around her neck.

It’s chocking me, the truth, it slides,

A warm gold chain that clasps the pearl in place,

Tightens the pearl around me neck,

Until lost breath is imminent.

When will I say them, those impending words?

When will I say it I cannot trust you,

I cannot tell the truth,

You choose to do works when faith is needed.

You hurt me, and care little to understand me,

My lips seal the words, close them in a box, turn the key;

Pandora’s box ready to unleash this pearl of wisdom,

Perhaps, wise words, but there are no wise-men here.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.