#OctPoWriMo Day 20/Three Line Tales: Poem – Blank Verse – “The Red of Sleep” #3LineTales #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 20 the prompt is: What color is it? Also, combining with #3LineTales from Sonya of Only 100 Words. Unfortunately, I’ve more than 3 lines or stanzas, but the picture works well!


Credit: Andre Benz Via Unsplash

What color is it? Blood-red or poppy?

Vermilion, cherry, apple or roses?

Gerbera-Daisy bled, or Scarlet?

Rust, copper, orange-red, red-wine or dead-red?

Is it the color of sin –a siren?

Or the shade of glory in battle?

Is it a Chinese wedding dress beaded,

Or cinnamon hearts on Valentine’s?

Is it love or fierce aggression? Anger?

Is it blood slipping down a soldier’s blade?

Blood of every fallen man, history’s —

Nameless sacrificed for freedom or,

To conquer land, or escape into the —

Red Sea parted, never turned back blue.

Red is memory, passion, delight, and —

Death that stains, with transgressions ink;

Indelible as a teacher’s x-marks.

Red’s Opium Dens, Jingle Jangle’s dread;

But, most I think of poppies that blow, grow,

On Vimmy Ridge, where our youth bled out, all —

These wars where soldiers died for peace.

It reigns, while tyrants burn, and hero’s sleep.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) 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

Flash fiction for Aspiring Writers: “Demonic Beauty”


Enclosed in the bar, eyes magnify; temptress in red, silk sliding on skin.

Sway in her hips, a tease of the senses. Men breathless consent, adoring sin.

Striding with ease, heels ruby with diamonds. Naked shoulders shimmer, anticipating.

Treading softly, fallen in red fire, elusive, and beguiling; illusion of flames sating.

Moving her hips, licking cherry red lips; coal glimmer in demonic eyes.

Sensations burning, engulfs her body; seething, writhing, building her disguise,

A vestige of power; she’s the tyger enticing, an allusion to Eden, of poisonus lies.

Decisive, sauntering closer, flicking hair, tar-black as the ash before Lent.

Peer into eyes, a glimmer of gold, metal men grieve for; silence, fire scent.

A vision, a curse, a whisper in vain — animating, the instrument on stage, 

Notes dance, music bleeding; breathing sweat, the melody of the enraged,

Fire rings, smoke engulfing; watch the woman despair, her voice entrances, beware–

Beauty enraged, a witch, incaged; performing she’s the beast, on stage no cares.

——-
 

http://www.pixebay.com
 

Thanks to Priceless Joy our wonderful host of FFfAW.

——

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.