Photo Challenge/Saturday Mix: “We’re Done” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to NELNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge and Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday mix on the theme of onomatopoeia and the three words rustle, thud, and hoot.


Credit: Google

Our balance as love-birds is precarious. We’re alike yet, so different. Holding our Adho Mukha Vrksasana‘ handstands, eyes closed; our breath mingling. It’s a habit of ours, mutual meditation of bodies and minds. We breathe deep, yet struggle to hold our pose.

A rushing sensation floods my brain. My blood pumps downward and dizziness threatens.

You groan. “Hold it five more minutes.”

I say nothing. You’re too close, I need distance. I’m sick of this arrangement. You take flight far from me; there’s never any communication, until you’re home. It’s as if I don’t exist for you until there’s no one else.

My muscles relax and I flex my feet, rolling my body through my spine, then my hips, until I’m in table top, and then, sitting cross legged. You’ve noticed nothing. Do you ever? I shove your side. Your spindle-legs flail in the air; you can’t right yourself. Thud!

“What the hell.” You glare and examine the scratches on your body.

I shrug. “Too much. I can’t keep this up.”

“Huh?”

“Everything.” My lungs ache; I feel caged. I want to scream.

“What’s wrong with you?” You cock your head and study me, hands on your knees. Your beady eyes send nervous chills.

“Her, all the hers. Cassandras and Stephanies. Kassies and Ashleys.”

“You’re the only Claire.”

I stand. The sun’s hot on my arms as I yank on yoga pants. Crisp spring leaves rustle above me in the river valley along with the some hooting bird. The breeze quickens, and I shiver, stretching high into mountain pose.

I peer at him, as he considers me. “I think I’m tired of peacocks like you. I don’t need your strutting or the women. The never knowing where you are, or if you care.”

You frown, run your hands through your hair, while your toes dig into the grass. “What are you talking about?”

“I need to concentrate on other things, not where or who you’re leaving here for next; the never knowing if you’ll return.” I turn, shoving my feet into pink Tom’s. My breath eases. I’m relieved that I said it, finally.

“Claire, stay. Please.” You twist your hippy-beard and your beady eyes beg.

I close mine and sigh. ” I can’t; no more.” You reach for your water bottle, gulp it before slamming it against a tree. Twigs crack, the bottle dents.

You swear, but don’t follow me as I hike back to the car. When I no longer see you, my body quivers, wracked with sobs. With each step I rid myself of your poison.

A few minutes later I rub my eyes with my hoodie sleeve. I don’t care that they’re pink and swollen.

That’s when it hits me –the silence of no drama, no worry weighing my entire being down as stones. I let the silence permeate me; a peace I haven’t experienced in years crashes over me. We’re done. My lips turn upwards and I smile. I haven’t done that in years either.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

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#NaPoWriMo Day 30/Photo Challenge: Free Verse – “A symphony Intrinsic” #amwriting #poetry #photochallenge


For NaPoWriMo Day 30 is: ” to write a poem that engages with a strange and fascinatingfact. It could be an odd piece of history, an unusual bit of art trivia, or something just plain weird.” I’m combining with NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’sPhoto Challenge.


Credit: Nicolas Bruno


We didn’t have smartphones, flip-phones,

No second lines or iron rotary phones.

Just a ‘can’ to yell back and forth,

Every kid in every neighbourhood had one,

And gossip was damaging;

Persistently strangling its victims.

But, we had no internet or wifi, no dial-up modem,

We penned epics in burnt-sienna cursive.

Our handwriting perfection,

As the pages stretched for hours.

Your morada -inked letters rumpled in my hand,

Holding the ‘can’ to my ear,

As morse-code clicks bullets at pigeons.

And we drifted near drowning in our childhood pond,

Too many words said, too many left unsaid;

Too many deeds done, too many left undone.

I never dreamed we’d split;

That pliers and scissors could strip string and wire —

That alone we were too weak,

To go beyond what our fathers said,

And the fears our mothers chided.

I didn’t know what we had together existed

But then, it was gone.

The water rose higher,

Warm water crushing breath;

Until I snuck out at night if only to survive,

To repair the damage wrought.

I forgot about technology,

The meaning of symbols or alphabets.

I climbed over your window sill,

I woke you with all those words,

The phrases I couldn’t keep inside.

Languages long lost but to us —

Centuries of unexpressed thoughts.

I listened as your morada-handwriting,

Echoed in silver-glitter when you spoke.

A melody that flew as butterflies,

Mediterranean giants with cobalt, crystal wings.

It was eons until everything bled-out,

Then, we were silent.

Lying together, limbs, lips, and laughter,

Bodies loving.

Saying all other words with sensation.

As the sky became serene, and sunlight filtered in,

And you traced my lips in awe,

I trembled and nipped your thumb.

For once we perceived the best tool for understanding,

Was to speak in person;

To converse, cry, yell, and observe–

Each other’s quirks and emotions.

The subtle signs we once knew,

Of sensuous appeal sublime and expressive.

Of rose perfume and musty libraries;

Of summer’s swimming and sunscreen,

Grass sharp and tangy in its freshness.

Your lips as berries devoured,

As forever lengthened our bones,

Made are skin supple, curved and honed.

Your hands on five-o’clock’ shadowed cheeks;

Wistfulness and whispered prayers.

Sins of afternoons and mornings lost,

Of nights spent miserable and alone;

Because we did not sit face to face and talk.

Our greatest gift — our human bodies,

Machines of the grandest designer,

His ‘plans’ can’t be derived, copied or improved;

And all sense of confusion,

Streamed past as estuaries scurried into oceans;

Our pond overflows with fresh water.

Hands wrapped as ribbons, never letting go,

Hazel-eyes to azure knowing the way we are now, is much more —

We were never meant to be alone.

Forlorn in this age of deception,

Forlorn without guidance in the dim.

No ‘cans’ to listen or letters written,

We’re humans at time’s dawn,

Our voices a rhythm sanguine,

A symphony absorbed and intrinsic.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: NaPoWriMo 2016 – Lune – ” Leaving ” 


  

Prompt:

Today, I challenge you to write a lune. This is a sort of English-language haiku. While the haiku is a three-line poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a three-line poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on word-count, instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again. Either kind will do, and you can write a one-lune poem, or write a poem consisting of multiple stanzas of lunes. Happy writing!

Please visit www.napowrimo.net for more information.

——

http://www.buddhabarbie.com

——
Peering your way advertent obscure, 

Days have passed,

Shards of glass inside me.

——-

Why is sorrow so meaningless.

Make it better,

Hear me out; you refuse.

——-

Coupledome requires us both to,

Tell the truth,

Communication is key; so listen.

——-

Capricious games are not me,

I’m not playing,

Whatever joke you’re about today.

——-

Be serious, moments are fading,

I’m still waiting,

How many nights spent crying? 

——-

Brokenness, requires feeling I think,

To care enough,

Feeling gutted and raw inside.

——

Thought we were supposed to,

Make our lives,

Lasting moments for each other.

——

Carelessness, you have no soul,

Once you loved,

Love has grown thin, cold.

—–

In Purgatory, if you believe,

What Catholics teach,

Frightening fire, burning soot reeks.

—–

Fire enthrals passion, makes heat.

But you’re ice,

Was there ever crackling flames?

—-

Again, convinced myself you were,

Healthy for me,

Should’ve kept searching and hoping.

—–

Now, I’m raw, inside out.

Sobbing mess living.

Making or breaking; I’m leaving.

—–

You don’t hear me leave,

It’s fine because —

You never saw me anyways.

—– 

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

A Bad Start


Not Getting Along
Not Getting Along

It’s been one of those too crazy weeks. It began fighting with A over a disappointing New Year’s not just because I had a throbbing headache that night but because he took off around 5:30 pm on New Year’s, left me all alone, and decided last-minute he needed a haircut. He waited 3 hours to get this haircut which he could have easily gotten a couple of days later. There was nothing wrong with his hair. At least not wrong enough to leave me alone 3 hours in the dark ( I couldn’t find the damn light switch that worked). And you know when you have energy then suddenly everything calms right down and sucks the life out of you. Being with other people and talking and getting ready with them keeps you going. But by the time A got home at 8:30 pm I was upset, had a headache, was starving, and I just had no patience anymore, and no reason to go to Earls for supper and out to the Druid.

A had brought McDonald’s home and instead of us going to Earls we ate that. Not what I

www.keno.com McDonald's :Logo
http://www.keno.com
McDonald’s :Logo

had in mind at all. He was the one so tired at the beginning of the night so we watch the New Year’s concerts in NY and I go to bed angry and yet again he leaves to go out with friends to go God knows what hours. I just really felt we were supposed to be spending New Year’s Eve together and he kept taking off and not saying anything about it.

I took the time to do my hair which takes a while to curl, dress up, and put on silver stiletto heels I knew I’d be hating in 10 minutes and I spent the night alone. I explained this to him the next day and he was like ” Some times you just talk shit, and I don’t want to talk about it.” I was really hurt and angry because communication is something he struggles with me so much. And later he won’t talk to me, hence my ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ article and then he goes back to work and I’m just like whatever I can’t focus my energy on being angry this long.

www.stevewright.info
http://www.stevewright.info

So even though I have such reservations about his communication and the fact he might just take off with his friends next time I want to go out I just forgave A and now we are talking again. Texting back and forth, as he works up North. I miss him because I usually do, and last time was such crap. So coming down off of being so upset took a lot of energy out of me and I had a tired New Years and the weekend.

Tuesday I spent at Rexall and my psychiatrists. Rexall for some odd reason I was trying to find better shaving things for A who said shaving hurt his skin. So I went to the Dove men’s section picked him up some nice shaving cream that is anti-razor burn, some moisturizer for after shaving, and some razors that have more blades on them then his little 2 blade razor so he doesn’t have to go over the same areas on his face twice. Call it part of his Christmas present I guess. There was also a brand of makeup there called The Balm that I always look at when I go there and I thought a couple of pieces of it would be a great present for my friend who has a Birthday in January. So, I picked her up an eyeshadow trio and a blush and sent it off with a card in a bubble pack in the mail. All errands done at Rexall, I went to see Dr. B.

www.woking.gov.uk
http://www.woking.gov.uk

Dr. B told me about my bloodtest results that although they did show a marker for something, that something couldn’t be identified and Dr. S the rheumotologist couldn’t identify anything for me that would out right say I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. It’s just something Dr. B and I are mostly sure of since I’ve been tested for everything else and I fit the criteria pretty well. Oh well, I can’t use the term on any medical or financial forms anyways so it doesn’t matter. It’s just one of those things that their is no expertise on in Edmontont, infact, probably around the world. And knowing that I have it forsure would change nothing. I am trying a new medication which I’m hoping actually works. It’s an antipsychotic and has less side effects then the current one I am on because it is newer. So I start that tomorrow and just hope that it helps and it isn’t a waste of a trial,

www.getpositiverevolution.com
http://www.getpositiverevolution.com

I wrote two chapter for How Was Last Night For You, I really feel the ideas and story coming together now as I write. I have lots of ideas now, I just have to see what fits and bring in some secondary characters to make the book more interesting. I am taking a Fiction course in February until May so that should be a huge help in writing a piece of fiction and I plan to write more for the book in the course and use it as my piece of fiction to work on. Hopefully, the professor likes what I’ve written as much as you guys have.

Now, it’s Friday and it’s been a slow day. So, I figured I would end the week with a ‘ What’s Up’ piece and be done with this week. The beginning really spoiled the rest of it I’m afraid. And I’m having a lot of reservations there. Instead I’ll just give myself a confidence boost with Dear Me . . .

Oh well, Happy Weekend!

Poetry: Dancing Into Light


I do not jest when I request, please don’t break my heart again.
And we move on in the steps of the dance, the game of life we play,
Begun again and shifted, sorted, sifted from the steps we danced before we fought — before summer hit us as bricks that fall from tall buildings up high.
Oh, what a surprise it is to step these new techniques and follow the footprints that many will trod.
But fear is a feeling hard to misplace, did I make the correct decision, revision, conditions to change — the course that lies before us and fine tune the game.

If I am a part of you, then you are a part of me; we are no longer apart from each other.
That was a twist to think that we could be after all this fighting, flight, forging for truth.
If you could just talk to me then I think we would see eye to eye, I think you’d see my soul if you looked hard enough.
It wants to understand you, to find the path that we must wander together.
It has a need to comprehend what little dips we must take to continue the dance; how many times can we trip without being told to get off the dance floor and walk away.
I mind that communication is difficult because dancers must keep in count 1,2,3,4 and 1,2,3,4 just to match their feet.
Keep your steps aligned with mine, tell me what’s on your mind so that we can continue to spin and flip and practice the moves the most faithful make.
Faithfulness occurs in action not by not only cheating but by staying attuned both you and I to each other and this music we call our lives.

So you are away and I needed to think but it wasn’t long before I took you back.
Decided to stop breaking pace to shimmy and shake as we take our place and step in time to the method, the song.
I always thought you were the one to slide with me as fireworks explode rushing up and smashing light into the sky, raining diamonds on the floor.
And moving this pace isn’t always easy, if I step on your feet, and you step on mine, were bound to become angry to react and retry to gain a connection, a tempo, a beat — to make the rhythm that is required of us.
We must bend and be flexible, be patient, be sincere, and take the steps as they come and move to the magic that occurs so little in life.
A thousand moments sunset bright to make it through to darkness into light.

Communication – it can be frustrating!


English: iphone Deutsch: iphone

My friends might call me quiet, even a bit shy sometimes (or at least I feel shy sometimes) but when I want something to occur I am a very straightforward communicator. I say what I want and have no problems about asking for that something. I might have a nice way of asking for it, or have a roundabout way of getting to tell you what I want, but I’ll get there and as soon as I can. Moreover, I plan ahead – I have learned that I have to. Having a limited amount of energy to do things means that I have to plan in times (days) I can just rest and plan times when I really have to (or want to) get things done.  As a communicator then I will ask a week often more, in advance events I would like to do with friends like coffee dates, dinners, wine tastings, etc. This is between doctor appointments, school, occupational therapist visits, and all the other stuff I need to get done in the month. I like to have a balanced calendar and it can be a bit stressful when I have too many things to do and not enough time to unwind. Things get cancelled, people you want to see do not get seen, and appointments do not go very well.

I can also do only one big thing in a day. So if I spend 4-5 hours going to school that’s my activity. If I spend 4-5 hours hanging out a night with some friends on the patio that too is my activity. But not both. So sometimes this whole planning and communication can be a little difficult to explain and work around when you are meeting new people. Many people are used to just going where ever they feel like when ever they feel it, when time permits them. They do not understand about organizing and planning something; Incidently, I do not only think planning is necessary for me, but for anybody who is trying to accomplish certain activities or goals in their life. I understand people work that they are constrained by work hours and things like there families and other responsibilities but I get really frustrated when people leave things to the last minute with me. It sucks to be waiting around all day for someone to tell you if they are or are not going to be doing something with you, or at what time (because you do not want to tire yourself out because then you could not do anything with them). It also makes me feel like I’m not important, like I am a last thought or someone they are  doing something with because nothing better came up. If someone is important to you make the time to see them and tell them when approximately you want to visit them. Tell them what your thinking in regard to your plans, you owe other people that much; be accountable. Everyone else has to be accountable to the important people in their life, why shouldn’t you?

Communicaton can be really difficult and figuring out how someone communicates whether through talking, telephone, or email can be especially difficult. With some people you know if you do not bother them and bother them they will not communicate back to you. Some people you can count on to get back to you right away. Sometimes you know people will not get back to you right away, but they will get back to you eventually. I think you should be able to expect that people within reason will get back to you as a common curteousy. Now sometimes people forget, get busy, but sometimes not – and that is when I get frustrated. Communication is not clear cut as much as I would like it to be, a lot of times we as people are left to figure out how to communicate back with someone, if we want to communicate back to a person at all, or if we simply sit back and let someone else enniate communication.

As for me, I have decided that there are certain people in my life I will wait for, and certain people I will not. I try to be courteous and give people chances but after a while you are either in or you are out, or you are in that gray area I assign to people I do not think I will hear from, but some day unexpectedly I just might. But what I would really like is just to know the day of an event, what is happening? What time are we leaving? And how should I dress? In the end that’s what I care about. If you could give me that curteousy, I would much appreciate it and so would other people I know.