Day 12 – NaPoWriMo/ A to Z Challenge/FFfAW: Poem – Free Verse – “The River’s Course” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #poetry #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo is to “write a poem that explicitly incorporates alliteration (the use of repeated consonant sounds) and assonance (the use of repeated vowel sounds).” For A to Z Challenge the GoodReads quote is from the letter L. As well, thanks to Pricless Joy for hosting FFftAW.


Water and Rocks FFftAW
Credit: Maria of Doodles and Scribbes

“The thing about love is that you will never run out of it. It’s an ever-flowing river. So go ahead and LOVE. What are you saving all this love for — death?”
Kamand Kojouri


 

The river she flows fluent, flourishing in her mad descent,

Rapids, water reeling past rocks leading her to a path of providence.

Fast, and fleet, a river rivaling; I’ve experienced —

On the weary trail, the river cutting, crushing the rocks.

She carves her path, ploughing silt to the shore,

Debris of dramatic, erosion deciding on the the crooked carved path.

The water, she must flow, finding her fabulous spark in the light of —

Lumionous sunlight, searing in the afternoon heat.

For this river runs through the desert, the orange, organic trails,

Mixed with red-rock, rizing in the Arizona afternoon.

Cliffs creating a canyon so deep and wide, where the water dances through.

No one to stop her destruction of rock, her pounding so hard it hurts,

But the river rivals all, keeps on carving her way —

Through the canyon cringing, when she chops off more silt.

Off its brilliant fire, she finds a place where the —

River rests in waterfalls crashing and carniverous,

Then she wanes as she reaches shore and and lays back breathing,

At ease, she is pleased and settles,

Against the sand of some beach, somewhere; she’s oblivious —

Simply sliding against sand,

No more cutting of solid rock required,

Tranquility is in the tide, easing in and out,

The river finds, rests with her lover,

Her and the shore are silent heart beats.


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Are Reserved.

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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

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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.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

SpillWords Published Poem: Free Verse – “The Persistent Consistence of Water” #amwriting #poetry 


Hey, just sharing another poem published on http://www.spillwords.com, to whom I’m grateful to collaborate with. I think you guys have seen it before but here it is again:

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The Persistent Consistence of Water” By Amanda Eifert

http://www.spillwords.com

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “The Persistent Consistence of Water” #amwriting #poetry #audio



————

If the words keep on dripping, the drops from a tap;
A problem, no plumber can seem to fix.

And drops gather close, become oceans of water. 

And swimmers keep treading, doing laps through drops of water. 
Drips and drops, no solutions and no answers.

Problems with solutions; problems never existed — solutions solve nothing.

But to mix up a cocktail or solve some chemical equation.

There are no answers, if you’re terrible at math. 

Or drink, until the solution is being drunk.

Keep drilling away, chiseling, at the stone edifice.

You know you’ll carve something,

Or perhaps, the water does the carving?

Deposits sediment and cuts through rocky banks.

Making rivers deep and wide, 

Building-up, forming, layers of silt and rock,

Until a Canyon has formed; red-sand glow, Arizona sky,

Grey rock interspersing, with shimmering crystal white; 

Glimmering blue-santorini water flows through.

Perhaps, sometime a millennia ago.

Waters made of drops of water.

Drip dripping from the sky through humanities history, 

The weather of a million dark and stormy nights.

Oceans of droplets, oceans eroding rock in rivers with deltas and gorges; black and deep.

Deep deep the secrets these gorges do keep,

The water disappearing, chasing the blackness it seeks,

Drip dripping droplets and they fall down the window.

Where little children trace the drops with their tiny fingers.

And breathing in steamed windows, 

See the O’s made by their precious little mouths.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.