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


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

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Credit: Natalie Deprina

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“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. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Alouette – “A Scare” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo prompt:

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Credit: Natalie Deprina

—–

She’s only twelve, bright —

The only girl separate from,

Her brothers four.

Parents her adore,

Their last child, girl comes, 

For Mom she’s a sight.

—-

A surprise one spring;

Thought there’d be no more kids born.

They so much wanted,

Girl so undaunted;

By elder brothers‘ scorn.

Bird fluttering wings.

—–

She laughs so cheery,

Going about her day, she’s teased

By family with love. 

Animals adore, 

She’s the darling who pleases,

Makes life less dreary.

—-

Out feeding horses, 

Then, rides with such glee calling,

Her dogs following. 

Danger in shallows, 

Ocean so near, tumbles, falls;

Swims smart, resourceful!

—–

Into warm arms pulled,

Mom near lost her dear, her pearl.

Dad is so wrathful, 

She wasn’t thoughtful

And where were her brothers? She —

Was grounded some. 

—–

Didn’t think enough;

She’s safe, all is well, she’s hugged,

Held close by her Mom,

Told, “Be careful hon!”

You’d be missed, you’re much loved.

Mom again gives hug.

—–

She’s happy again. 

Learned she’s human, as others. 

Preteens can die too.

Better to ride through —

Ocean waves, with friends, brothers. 

So life it remains

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Without A Sound” #amwriting #poetry #love


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

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Credit: Rich Howman

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Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

Swing her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift;

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All to happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Perserved in time the clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

Years slide forward, what can you do but, 

Move forward too, memories cause a rut. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found, 

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—-

Swept her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift. 

Wiggling and giggling in your —

Arms; begging to have legs on ground restored

She thought she was too heavy for your back, 

You just laughed and kept her close, said “Relax.” 

You were walking barefoot on the cool —

Wet ground, the grass made you slip, such glad fools. 

Drop of joy harnessed in a crystal glass

Kept to hold, make the precious moments last. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found,

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound.

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All too happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Lovers as close as lovers can be, rolling —

On the blanket, on grass, after strolling.

Gleam in her eyes promising heaven, 

Twist of her smile taking you to Never —

-land of pirates, lost boys, and she, Wendy, 

Picking up a sword, fighting for her when —

Pirates attacked; shoeless running in real

Life; time ceasing again, treasures for feels. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

——

Perserved in time, clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

The truth is hard to swallow, to remember

Years pass, euphoria is dismembered

Harsh realities, sickness, health; sickness wins, 

She flew away my sparrow with the wind.

Such disease sucks the life from a body, 

Hope, a religious dream from pain prodded. 

A new eternity to love, swing round with —

Dirty bare feet and love despite death’s grip. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

#OctPoWriMo – Day 18 – Ottava Rima – “Nature’s Cradle” #amwriting #poetry


Day 19 Prompt: Tree

Trees are necessary for our very existence on this earth, they produce the air we breathe. We build houses with them and create many products that we use everyday with them. What personal role do trees have in your life? Do you have a favorite tree in your yard or one that you walk or drive by frequently? Free write for ten minutes exploring the world of trees.”

——-

http://www.youngonespack.wikia.com

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The park is peaceful silent, as mid-day sun strays, 

Walking through foliage, even footsteps —

Can be heard, where branches carve a ceiling cave. 

Though the sky is cheerful blue, branches yet, 

Make the trails paved, a hollowed place away —

Screaming city lights, and loud conversation met, 

With the quiet, the tranquil breath, gifted by trees, 

No sadness here, a happy place held dear. 

—–

The drifting leaves, paying tole, to dancing wind, 

Blowing the rebirth of trees and their seeds far. 

Slow lazy walk, furry dog smelling scents, grins. 

Curious thing, to see a dog smile, laughing bark.

Nature cradles us, magic trees rekindled. 

Hidden we are in treasured lands, our star —

Bright light always near, to show us the path to roam. 

Nature’s dreamy pause, returns with us to home. 

——-
” A Ottava Rima is a poem written in 8-line octives. Each line is of a 10 or 11 syllable count in the following rhyme:

1. one octive poem. abababcc
2. two octive poem. abababcc, dededeff

3. three octive poem. abababcc, dededeff, ghghghii.”

—–

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 


#OctPoWriMo – Day 8 – “Porous Genes: A Mean Poem”


Day 8 Prompt: Porous

  1. 1a :  possessing or full of pores b :  containing vessels <hardwood is porous2a :  permeable to fluids b :  permeable to outside influences 3:  capable of being penetrated <porous national boundaries> (Merriam Webster Dictionary)

shallow-end
http://www.pinterest.com

I. Pouring water through a strainer,

Or putting flour through a sifter.

We never thought his mind was drained,

But his thinking wasn’t ever swift.


Not meaning to be rude, but clear,

He’d no ideas, just drank beer.

But when you spoke to him and said dear

Heard the wind, whistle through his ears.


II. Perhaps, it’s not nice to say she —

Had a bit of air in her head.

Like panning for gold through silt she —

Wasn’t precious metal some said.


She’s a tea leaf slipped through the ball,

Not much clever, but despite all —

We hope she picked up some wisdom,

Encouraged her read, learn something.


Rispetto:

“A Rispetto, is an Italian form of poetry, is a complete poem of two rhyme quatrains with strict meter. The meter is usually iambic tetrameter with a rhyme scheme of abab ccdd. A Heroic Rispetto is written in Iambic pentameter, usually featuring the same rhyme scheme.”

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Music Friday Prompt: Poetry – Free Verse – “Silence Is A Sound.”


Thanks for the music post from Mind Loves Misery’s Menagerie. The prompt song is “Sound of Silence” by Simon and Garnfunkel. Most recently, it is noted, the band Disturbed, did a wicked version of this classic.

Also thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt words MuseProfound, and Elusive.

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http://www.lawofficer.com

—–

Hello darkness you’re my muse;

A have profound “visions” in my mind,

They’re haunting me again.

Such elusive beings, wisps of vapour transforming;

I’m not sure anyone will understand,

But I strum my guitar and I hum the tune, 

A melody to haunt profoundly through the decades.

Darkness, friend or foe? 

Who would know silence has a sound?

What is the sound of silence, no one ever knows? 

If darkness is the place I most hide, 

Where the “seeds” of this “vision” keep;

Than why do I wander “streets“with “lamps . . . stabbing,” 

My eyes in the cold empty street?

How does that light touch the silence elusive

Silent isn’t a concrete thing.

It’s not physical, so how do lights hurt silence? 

How do you not notice all those “people“(thousands), 

And hear their voices while they stay silent?

How do you know what they are “hearing?”

Only they know if they’re “listening;”

And the “songs“they sing in silence –silence would mean, 

You couldn’t hear anything sung, 

Or know the “song“they theoretically, could sing.

And if no one dares “speak,” somehow I think, 

The silence still eludes them.

And if you say silence is a “cancer grow[ing];”

I’ll tell you what peace I find in it, 

When “fools” they do not “speak;”

But you ring your voice, it echoes,

And you know, no one with silence is disturbed,

So your voiceless voice like “raindrops falling,”

 Is silence never heard.

Can silence be heard or unheard?

A paradox, perhaps? 

Are you sheep to the slaughter to this “neon god;

And what “neon sign flashed” in “warning?”

If the “sign“was a god what did it warn, 

That you were all sheep being led astray? 

And who is this “prophet?”

They’re so many to speak, Elijah or Danial?

The Islamic Mohammed?

And “tenement halls” which from came “whispers,” 

They’re overcrowded apartment buildings.

Apartments with small rooms, where people —

Are stuffed, having no personal space.

Even here, is there no silence which has sound?

Wouldn’t it be a dirty place, no room to move,

To breathe, to live, — to find peace?

Yet the words of said “prophet” are, 

On the “subway” walls.

Means I think, the writings on the wall

Or referring to people stuffed into trains,

 And metros as cattle too? 

I think in the thunderous silence, 

Everyone is missing what’s coming;

And no one knows the truth or breaks the silence. 

Yet a few “whispers” I detect,

 Elusive for their sound;

And silence rings and breaks sound barriers, 

A sound which is never heard. 

But you dear listener, hear the sound profoundly clear;

And wonder yet, how silence is a sound? 

——-

“Sound of Silence” – Disturbed 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Vines and Truth” #amwriting #poetry 


http://www.dreamstime.com

———

If you’re trapped in this reality, 

The words you hear will never betray.

If you’re trapped here, 

You’ll never say the words,

You meant to tell me.

Soul words, which climb, 

 As vines through your lips.

Vines that keep growing, 

Whispering the language,

 You grew-up bilingually,

 Conversing and spelling.

The words you only say with friends, 

And the silly ones your family made up,

Nick names, pet names, 

The names a lover calls;

The words you speak,

 When you tell the truth, 

And the words you catch yourself saying, 

When you’re outright lying.

—–

Did you dream you could hide, 

So many secrets and so many tombs.

Bury us beneath words,

 With no proof, no truth;

Does anyone know real?

In the land of typed phrases, 

Spellcheck, and autocorrect,

 Are our words even ours?

When you can change the words,

 To mean and say, 

Precisely, what you want them to say,

When your body language, tone, 

And emotions cannot be seen,

What hides obscene and unseen?

——

And when I see such stunning eyes,

And they carry me away;

When your voice hits me there,

 In the bottom of my heart.

The growl on your lips, 

The tilt of your hips.

A glass of milk, brings tranquil sleep, 

More gentle vibes and vines invisibly, 

Through my mouth to yours.

As plants do crawl and sprout, 

So do we affect someone else.

And you wonder how can you build,

An Alice in Wonderland lost yourself.

With so many vines,

Caught on your tongue,

Like a hydra with far–

 Too many heads to chop off,

Vines as heads keep growing, 

No fire can consume the lies, 

Covering the truth. 

——

Find out, what is life here? 

There– with them? 

Or someone else? 

Listlessly browsing, areas meant, 

To be lonely and free, at a cost, 

Or joined together birds of a feather;

If “Hope is a thing with feathers,”  

As dear Emily Dickinson wrote;

Please fly to the safest and softest place.

And let’s lay unmoving, 

As vines wrapped around each other.

Not worried about our tomorrow’s,

Or finding more secrets;

Let the truth be our lips meeting,

Let the truth be in feeling our eyes, 

Engaged over cheese, bread, and wine later.

Sitting on the couch,

Wrestling with your dog;

Watching our favourite shows,

Until sleep calls,

In a world where no one,

Can be trusted completely, 

Where there are too many,

Half-truths and white lies.

Assure me at least,

You mean the best, and try,

To say the truth, as vines —

Wrap us together into,

The pitch dark night, 

Tangled tight.

——-

©Mandbelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Florette – “Song of Signs” #wordhighjuly #poetry #amwriting #harana



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http://www.cnn.com

——-

I’ll sing you music each long night.

Do you hear my voice take flight?

My alto voice rings loud in my ears.

Wish to be there, so you see dear, my notes just right.

——–

You’ll treasure my words, piercing thought.

Can I reach through your veil, you’re aloft.

Stuck inside, where I cannot reach.

No silence but song, I beseech; sign of love sought.

———-

Dusk, lingering in your splendor,

Hope you’ll hear my words crescendo

Problems arise when you see how I sing,

For I am deaf, my songs hand signs ring, my concerto.

——-

Please my love, notice me noiseless,

Signs speak my ardor voiceless.

You gaze through me, my pretty face

Your chosen love’s voice has no grace; my signs joyful.

——

The Florette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more 4-line stanzas.

Rhyme scheme: a,a,b,a 
Meter: 8,8,8,12 

Fourth line requirement of internal (b) rhyme scheme, on syllable 8.

Like the outgrowing of a small flower, the forth line of each stanza is longer, and enwraps the previous lines. Line #4 requires an internal rhyme scheme that rhymes the eighth syllable with the end of line #3, and continues to add on four more syllables than the other lines so that the fourth line ends rhyming with lines #1 and #2.

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information. 

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Day 8 – NaPoWriMo- Take it Back – ” Dear Keith”


Dear Keith,

You are not the love of my life.

And I did just fine without you.

I apologize for not talking to you,

But I was only 19 or 20 and as you know shy.

You were a good guy but you could have made more of an effort to talk to me,

To coax me out of my shell.

And if you ever liked me you could have made me feel unique to all the other girls who hung around you.

But that was 10 years ago Keith, and I’ve long moved on.

So whatever happened, happened because it did.

And it’s no hard feelings, but 6’5″ is just to tall for me.

And I was never caught in my own world,

I was just busy working 20 hrs, taking 5 courses, going to the gym, and partying with my friends on weekends.

I wasted a lot of time frustrated over you.

But I learned to look outside the box.

And to look for someone different but not so different from me.

Fondest memories, best of luck in life.

Amanda