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.

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Rictameter – “Foresight” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver prompt having to do with the importance of sight, physical, spiritual, or beyond. Also thank you to Linda J. Wolf of the blog Urban Poetry for the new poem format. Rictameter verse had 9 lines and the first and the last line repeat. The syllable count for each line is as follows: 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2. 

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Also, I know many of you are doing the A to Z Challenge for April. But if anyone’s interested in poetry, join me in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). A poem a day for 30 days. You can sign your blog up at www.napowrimo.net. Each day in April, return to the site for the daily poetry prompts and remember to link back to the website when you write your poems and to tag your work #NaPoWriMo so other bloggers can read your awesome poetry. Looking forward to reading everyone’s poetry takes. If you are REALLY up for the challenge combine NaPoWriMo with the A to Z Challenge 🙂 

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Credit: Google Images

To see,

With clarity,

Minds are required to —

Be open to possibility.

All the relevant outcomes forecasted,

Made with thinking of calculated —

Risks; all aspects bad,

Or fortunate,

To see.

——-

Because,

Limited sight,

Costs lives, so we try —

To foresee what could occur.

What is likely to happen in certain —

Situations; or what won’t —

Occur; we attempt to —

See the future,

Because.

——

We live,

Blindly despite,

Attempts to know.

We can’t actually know;

As much as we make it seem,

As if we can configure potential,

But it’s all a fantastic lie.

We know nothing but —

Footsteps ahead,

We live.

——

Blindly,

Our sight fades for —

Physically our prime is —

Short; but we can see past —

Spiritually if only —

We choose to see, to look within and find,

Our immortality left,

After we pass on.

We try to see,

Blindly.

——-

In life,

We desire to —

Know what happens —

Next; can we stop our fears,

Trouble from taking place or should —

We leave it in God’s hands and let,

Our worry and painful burdens,

Be His to decide,

Thy Will Be Done, 

In life.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), My Thoughts, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Practical Juliet


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.


SPFJuliette
Credit: A Mixed Bag

*****

O, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore —

Art thou Romeo?Why are you here?

I’m not interested in death for love, clear?

I’m a smart girl and you’re kind of boring.

You talk about love, I’m just passed fourteen.

I think that I’ll ‘live,’ a little more, dear —

Before I settle; I’ve no choice, you hear,

Dad will kill us both if you insist more.

*****

So leave me be, a young girl who is free

Keep your responsibility, see —

I’ll spend time with the girls and when —

I’m twenty, I’ll choose the richest guy known,

Who’s nice to me; there’ll be no bloodshed then.

Go play with your friends, be young, O Romeo.

*****


©Mandibelle16(2017). All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Flash Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Wrapped Refrain, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Wrapped Refrain – “The Demon Spawned” #amwriting #poetry #saturdaymix 


Thanks to Bastet from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting today’s prompt, a “gothic” tale or poem — the macabre.

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

Was such a dreary night forewarned,

In dirt squiggled both bugs and worms.

For they too felt doom bemoaning,

To be out on this night groaning.

A monster from hell was spawned, a demon seething,

Earth felt the heaven’s warn, evil darkness speeding.

——

Why such a night did I choose,

To walk my scrawny pooch?

In a fight she would run straight home,

No blind love, she left me alone.

As twilight bubbled as witch’s brew steaming,

An evil curse my bones hurt knowing it was too near.

——

Our little neighbourhood was vast,

In pitch black terror I was cast.

My prayers mumbled beneath my —

Breath; I begged this night not to die.

Starlight and slim moon were covered by creeping thick fog,

Oh, how wished, for even my cowardly scared dog.

—–

Felt I the breath of evil reek,

A touch of frost open my young cheek.

Of something old, of catastrophe,

An ancient wicked masterpiece.

A monster so dark, it did me choke, both claws squeezing,

All life from lungs, bones crushing while I was bleeding.

—–

And now I’m nothing but my soul,

I choose — serve eternity bold.

Be not afraid as I was of dark,

For now I’m light, a fighting spark,

Giving courage, weapons to those facing monsters,

Sending back the most damned beasts, to hell launching.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneer, History, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Fictioneer: Where The Arched Doorways Lead #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.

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Credit: Dale Rogerson

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The [girl] who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the [girl] who went out. [She] will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging [her] ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend” 

― Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception

——–

“Where do those doors lead, the arches are beautiful. Is there groin-vaulting in between each arched doorway?” 

The tour guide stared at sixteen-year-old Tina who was a surprise student of art history. “If you wish to discover the architectural features of the building, you must find them exploring, it’s how things are done here,” he said. 

Tina watched as other students from her high school trip went exploring in pairs, while she ‘the know it all,’ was left on her own. 

She walked through the first arched doorway and turned to see the tour guide watching her enter, “What is the purpose of these long hallways of arches. Do they end?” 

The tour guide sighed, “Go see for yourself. Sometimes experience is the best kind of knowledge.” 

Tina began following a series of arched doorways. She was filled with both trepidation and a strong urge to succeed, finding the exit. 

At times she had to choose a direction to travel when four different archways presented themselves. She kept walking until she was frustrated, bored, and tired. Then Tina lay down, resting her head on her jacket to sleep. 

In the morning she was relieved to find the exit. Last night she had thought she would never find a way out of this maze. She felt like a changed person today. 

——
©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Sacrifice #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——

Credit: A Mixed Bag

——

Ellie stared at her teddy bears. She collected them and these three were her favourite. She didn’t much play with them, but they had a place of pride on her daybed. 
Truthfully, Ellie played with other stuffed animals, she didn’t care if she wrecked or ripped them a part. Sometimes she even gave a stuffed animal to her family’s dog dog Artic.

But Mom said she had too many teddy bears and because she didn’t play with these three teddy bears on her bed, she could only keep one of them. 

“But I snuggle with them at night, they keep me safe from the monsters. Even a monster can’t defend himself against three bears, ” Ellie told her Mom who laughed and ran her fingers through Ellie’s curly brown hair.

 Ellie stared at her three soft bears, unable to choose who would go. 

Suddenly, the solution came upon her. If Ellie couldn’t have all three bears, the only solution was to get rid of her Mom. She really loved her Mom a whole bunch, but she thought if she sacrificed Mom to the monsters, she would both be able to keep all three teddy bears and the monsters would leave forever too. 

It was a scary thing to give up her mother, but Ellie thought it was for the best. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Beauty, Fashion, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Gentle Dreams” #amwriting #poetry #rebirth


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge:

——

Credit: Natalie Deprina

——

“Maybe love isn’t something that comes full circle. It just ebbs and flows, in and out just like the people in our lives” – Colleen Hoover, It Ends With Us

——-

Sometimes we think, it’s easy to manage to–

Balance the flow of our lives, each passage, 

Of words and wonders we travel down fast. 

Of memories, dreams curling blissfully through. 

Of laughter, lovereason to again bloom, 

Beyond the memories trapping us, lasting; 

Never completely leaving until they pass, 

In moments they choose, new whispers approve; 

The coming of the dawn, when slumber breaks, 

Though we’re scarred and hollow, gloves of lace

Will hide the marks of yesterday; fashion

A hug giving warmth, with new love, sweet dreams. 

Yesterday fades, sparks today’s gentle stream

Brings reassurance, your arms hold me dear

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Event, Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, Memories/Childhood, Mirrored Refrain xaBA, xbAB, xaBA, xbAB, etc, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quotes, Writing, Writing Challenges

Writers Quote Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Filling The Cup” #writersquotechallenge #poetry #amwriting


Thank you to Jacqueline and Bernadette, from A Cooking Pot and Twisted Tales for hosting the All New Writer’s Quote Challenge. Here’s this week’s prompt quote: 

“We are all vessels. The question is what are the contents of your vessel?” 

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http://www.pinterest.com

——

We are all vessels in life, full of what we choose,

Let what whispers you would in, wisely proved.

We cannot keep all the dreary out nor —

The demons within; release what’s ill and poorly. 

Light shines in your shadows keeps the cobwebs, 

From ceasing thoughts which need to be said. 

Let your vessel overrun with hope, joy —

Though difficult, let not out what annoys. 

Tranquility, contentedness find, 

Don’t let the dark days your soul to confine.

We are all vessels in life, full of what we choose,  

Let what whispers you would in, wisely proved. 

—–

We cannot keep all the dreary out nor —

The demons within; release what’s ill and poorly. 

Find vessels alike, fill each other’s cup

Never destain to ask all your friends,”What’s Up?” 

Tears fill us sometimes, but joy overflows too, 

Let happiness feed each other, connection through —

Friend or family uplifts one another. 

Strangers walking trade smiles, vessels fill love. 

We are with each other so we might as well live

Providing all people with kindness given. 

We are all vessels in life, full of what we choose, 

Let what whispers you would in, wisely proved. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Poem -Day 13 – Etherees Cascading – “I Don’t Understand” #poetry #novembernotes #amwriting #writing #music


Today’s song prompt is called “Shell Suite” by Chad Valley.

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“Shell Suite” – Chad Valley

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

——

Signs written on the walls, handwriting no —

One reads such a language anymore.

But you saw the signs, the moment —

Words in my head untangled. 

I don’t understood us, 

Myself, in this mess. 

My feelings confused, 

Time was short. 

Now we’re —

Gone. 

—–

Signs, 

Are so, 

Clear to you, 

I don’t need some —

Gifted seers dream.

Echoes in my head rhyme, 

Tapping my foot along in —

Rapid time, and I wonder where —

My search will begin, if I find us? 

Quarter past, rustle up — we fit or we don’t. 

——

Somehow I’m the one in control, I choose, 

I decide; I want to just go with —

The flow, not worry, not decide;

But at least I have my say. 

Yet life works out your way. 

Grand design heart beats, 

Perplexed by these —

Sounds, friends, foes, 

Yourself, 

Dazed. 

—-

It, 

Mattered, 

Not, writing —

So vivid and —

So crystal clear I, 

Felt resilience in, 

My chest; down to the beach, 

Our getaway, but rhythms ting. 

They keep echoing, it’s exhausting, 

Figuring out your charms, while packing for the sun. 

—-

You’re packing; feel the heart attack we live, 

A life I want not, I’m looking for the shore. 

For a place to get of off the flooding —

Boat before it carries me down. 

Where are you, where’d you go? 

Writings on the wall, 

Said it all well, 

They’re erased. 

You’re gone, 

Fled. 
——

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – “The Writings On The Wall Reveal You” #amwriting #poetry #relationships 


http://www.badjocks.com

———–

Am I real?

When you look at me,

Do you see me for me?

Do you care what you see?

I’ve only questions,

While you play your cards close.

I’m not going to cheat,

Peer at your hand because —

I’m afraid what I’ll see.

Such truths, I don’t want to gaze upon —

Unfaithfulness,

Only physicality, sexuality;

No emotion or affection,

No conversation in person,

No Voice stroking voice.

—–

Hands speak with our words,

Eyes glint and reveal,

Secrets you’d rather hide,

With sunglasses.

Staring at your hand,

Trying to beat my cards.

Poker face silent, emotionless;

All bets are off.

Time to show me your cards,

What the river dealt you —

Matters not; but for now,

Play how you like.

Fold if you’re scared,

Of falling into deep,

Of feeling emotion.

Your heart picking-up,

Thumping a beat.

——

But, perhaps, I’m a woman for fodder,

For a lonely night at home.

Perhaps, I’m not pretty enough,

Not thin enough for you.

Maybe, you know I’ll ask questions?

Questions you have trouble answering.

Maybe, you know —

I’ll turn the wanderer in your soul home,

And welcome you in my arms.

Maybe you’re not ready,

Perhaps, your only an ass.

A nice way of saying,

Other words I want to shout.

Perhaps, I’m only a date —

And one night.

Is this how you treat women?

I’m too strong for your tricks.

——-

You may forget my face,

My name, my body.

You may let me do the walk of shame,

Thinking I’m fooled by you,

The man I liked all along;

You may believe —

Finally, you wore me down.

And now I’m flattened,

Nothing left to sculpt,

Nothing left to shatter.

Smithereens, glass embedded.

You may have led me astray,

Made me consider:

I no longer think,

Some guys are good,

And some guys do care.

——

But when I chose you,

Maybe I didn’t realize,

I was choosing all wrong.

Maybe, I should’ve gazed above me —

Seen the ‘writings on the wall.’

Seen the woman in her glory,

Waiting for her own life,

On wings to rise and fly;

From your lies and tricks;

You didn’t shatter me,

I saw all the writings,

Every word on that damn wall,

I know all your horrific secrets;

And I read them all.

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.