Fiction, Free Verse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

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.

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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.

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Awakening the Dragon #flashfiction #amwriting #dragon


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

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Sophia hid in her closet, it was her only safe place. Hanging on a ceiling was a mobile with a handcrafted dragon. She remembered thinking the dragon was frightening, but whenever the darkness in her room swallowed her, the dragon’s eyes flashed; the shadows were obliterated. 

She also remembered when her mom first hit her. She scrubbed Sophia’s cut and it was excruciating as was the burning stringent liquid her mom poured on it.

 Suddenly, Sophia heard yelling and stomping. The closest door flew open — her mother was drunk again. 
Instantly, the dragon’s eyes above her caught fire. He grew into a monster with golden scales and the scent of fire and ash, spreading and filling Sophia’s entire bedroom. He blew a blaze of fire at her mom but only the bottle of Kirkland Tequila (1.75 Litres/$20.00) in her mom’s hand disintegrated. 

In words veiled in smoke the dragon hissed at Sophia’s mom who nodded; she understood the dragon’s warning. He breathed out his last plume of smoke and except for the acrid smell, it was if Sophie’s dragon had never awoken. 

She crawled out of her hiding place and petted the handcrafted dragon hearing him purr.

——- 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Guardian Angels #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Sunyana – http://www.moipenseive.com

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I marvelled at the set of angel lights at the the beginning of each block, with another set of angels at the end, as I joined my friends at a pub. 

It seemed right these angels should be here, watching over the revelry. As I later walked a block down in the early morning hours to catch a cab, I recalled my thoughts on angels as child. 

Sometimes I had nightmares and I was too afraid to fall asleep. My Mom told me not to worry because God’s angels were always watching over me. Still, I looked to the corners of my room afraid because the corners were the darkest places. 

Eventually, I began to imagine angels were there in these corners guarding me as I slept. If I woke up afraid I’d look to the corners of my bedroom ceiling and feel safe. Sometimes I dreamed I could see these celestial beings watching over me. 

Going home that night in the cab I gazed at the angels made of lights, four of them guarding a street; I hoped the night ended safely for all. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Septolet - 14 words - 2 stanza's of 7 words each., Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Septolet – ” Before Despair Takes Root” #amwriting #poetry


http://www.fantaasiatoidab.deviantart.com

——–

They found, 

Him hanging, 

From the, 

Tree.

Swaying.

Not realizing, 

Signs lingered,

Before death.

—-

Despair, shame, 

Die with, 

Splintered hearts.

We —

Cry,

Can’t perceive

What thoughts,

Tortured him.

—–

He, strangers

Found hanging,

Knotted his,

Rope,

Used,

His hands, 

Carryed out,

Tragic Ends.

—–

We’re not, 

Able to,

Comprehend why,

A —

Man, 

Was desperate,

Enough to,

Silence Life.

—–

We sit,

His friends, 

Family asking:

“How–

Could’ve —

We prevented,

Him? So,

He’d be —

——

Yet living,

Among us, 

Received help,

Needed?”

—-

But,

He believed, 

His pain, 

Was misunderstood.

—–

Demons writhing, 

In mind,

Smiling face,
Masking.

Those,

Who appear,

Most humorous, 

Fracture worst.

—-

Cloaked, in

Darkness each,

Jocular day,

Lived.

Suppressing, 

A secret, 

Pandora’s box, 

Wouldn’t seal.

Demons overwhelm,

 Panadamonium, fire,

Further woe,

And —

We,

Left behind,

Never comprehend, 

Such despair.

But if,

You see,

Someone struggling,

Please —

Become, 

A safety, 

Net, let —

Them heal.

—–

Telling them

“Get it–

Together now.”

Cruelty.

Provide, 

Them unlimited,

time needed, 

Inner repairs.

—-

Bind wounds, 

Let fractures, 

Mend strongly,

Support.

Let, 

No person, 

Become that 

Man, swinging.

—–

Let each, 

Hand you,

Have hold, 

Another’s.

So, 

Those in, 

Despair are, 

Lifted up.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.