Collage Prompt: Poem – Cascading Etheree – “The Inner Child” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s collage prompt.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie; Bottom Right – Jeremiah Morelli

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You might think it peculiar to let kids,

Be small, to let them be silly, weird,

When most of their life is spent in,

‘Adulting,’ learning how to,

Be big, responsible,

I say as Auntie:

Let them be them,

Creative,

Full of,

Fun.

——

Let,

Them be,

Wild beings,

Think of stories,

Imaginative,

And implausible, but —

Believe them because you’re,

Playing along, taller tales,

Demonstrate creativity,

For kids, it keeps them young, growing older.

——

Think of tilting towers, Big Ben in blue –

Green prairie sky, a storm brought him here.

But he bends, tilts just because and,

Storm brought along a grand,

Gothic cathedral roof,

Pointed top I’m sure —

Missed somewhere; hot —

Air balloon,

Holds our,

Dreams.

—–

Where,

We live

With such rich,

Possibility.

Imagining,

Tall towers floating in,

Moon lit skies, princesses,

Saving themselves, jumping from,

Clouds, the moon indeed smiling so proud,

Girls and boys — escape from their own towers.

——

Locked fortresses floating, new challenge,

Escaping by flying pirate ships old,

Never turning back to the light,

Of a trapped home, wishing most,

To be little, secure,

Not worry about,

A dragon’s fire,

A port in,

Mid-air,

Light.

—–

Sought,

In night’s,

Binding grip,

All children search,

For understanding,

A hug and kiss when they’re lost,

Hurt, or at least a safe place works.

For home; mom’s gentle touch when,

Nightmares thrive; become to real, kids hide;

But parents are there, provide a haven.

——-

So encourage kids to harness their,

Creativity, to paint and draw,

To find their passions in life, so —

Maybe they can live them too.

Or find a haven in,

Their talents, their skills,

Urging away,

Stress; relief,

‘Cause life,

Hurts.

—–

So,

We teach,

Live your dreams,

Let them unwind

You; be as free as

Butterflies; don’t be tacked,

To a board on the wall kept.

Fly lovely, safe, remembering,

Humanity is indeed so —

Delicate at times; you’re not invincible.

—–

But in the power of the imagination,

You can always escape the threads,

Binding you to reality.

You can have liberty,

Smile, eat your cake too,

And hopefully,

Your partner,

The one who,

Loves you,

Most.

—–

Has,

Their own,

Inner child,

Understands and,

Knows, love is gentle,
Love is fiery, bold,

Love and creativity,

Both hold; let you be dauntless, free,

Full of life, security to —

Be held; be wild both as adult and child.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quatrains – “Tale of The Floating Bride” #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to NEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge prompt. 

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Credit: Zhangjinga.com

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Enchanting child in slumber keep, 

Red hair surrounds you as you sleep. 

I wait for you to wake from your dreams, 

No longer a porcelain doll preened. 

*****

A wedding gown white lace so frothy, 

Mother hoped your match was lofty.

That you’d found your life partner, 

Your prince, your man, for life to start.

*****

But day by day you grew sad, 

When pressed with his kisses ran. 

Empty feeling inside you grew, 

Like a butterfly away flew.

*****

Mischievous child, pain grew, 

His fist at your face straight-on flew. 

Hiding the bruises with powder,

Not even concealer shrouds

*****

Pride vital to you, tiny doll, 
Escaped; no one to catch your fall.
Fly in dreams with delicate wings, 

Winter ends, it’s soon your spring. 

*****

Gather your courage –call it off;

Don’t marry him, don’t be soft.

In front of the crowd, show each cut, 

Let them see bruises, you must. 

*****

So they know an abuser, 

Isn’t good enough, he’s a loser. 

He broke your velvet wings, 

Your sanity held by strings. 

*****

But it was too late even then, 

The lake too close; so your end.

Now you float, butterfly who swims, 

Eternity of light your win. 

*****

We tried to save a doll of glass, 

But on death she shattered, passed. 

Down below the water’s dark depth,

She’s tranquil, free; although, she leapt. 

*****

Mind too distorted, destroyed, 

Lover’s hands threw her like a toy.

World tough; his madness changed them both, 

In Heaven she smiles free to float. 

*****

He mourns her death each day, each drink, 

Pretty soon his rage him too sinks. 

Accidents happen to the unaware, 

She pulled him in, drowned his despair. 

—– 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Music Prompt: Poem – Quatrains – “Constant Cravings” #taleweaver #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie for hosting. This week’s prompt is the song: “Constant Craving” By KD Lang

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http://www.curejoy.com

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Constant cravings not only for,

An addict or a pregnant gal.

Cravings that run deep, thus, inform–

Temptation in life, to resolve. 

—–

Find balm for cravings we adore,

The deadly; we’re not infallible.

What if they control us, and pour–

Salt on wounds, we’re delicate, fragile.

——

Some addictions, need be unformed,

Forget the drugs, the alcohol–

Constant craving beyond our core,

Craving affection, unappalled.

——

A deep urge, to have and to pour —

Water on our burns, all close calls.

But can you escape craving more? 

Never enough, always need salves. 

—-

Constant want and feeling so sore —

Need completion, a place to fall. 

Beyond bad cravings, wanting more.

Constantly seeking, peace enthralls.  

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Diamanté – ” Fire, Phoenix, Light, and Darkness” #poetry #amwriting #music 


“Just Like Fire” – P!nk

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Fire,
Scorching, Singeing.

Destroying, Cleansing, Burning all. 

Sparks inside me, embers glowing.

Remenants of yesterday dying.

Acrid smell, Burnt scent, Dusty death.

Blowing winds, Becoming but —

Ashes.

——–

Fire,

Flaming, Fluid heat, 

Interrupting life, Avenging, Lighting pathways.

Devastating the place called home.

Lighting the way back to safety, when enclosed.

Luminous candle, Glowing street lamp, Gleaming stars.

Beaming, Brighten’s with —

Light.

——

Ashes,

Grey silt, Smokey remains.

Leftovers, Burnt black-wood, Coughing fits.

From the ashes, rises the grand Phoenix.

Still the Phoenix becomes the fire.

Spreading fast, Blackening souls, Killing life.

Warmth, Hearth, 

Fire.

—–

Phoenix,

Reddish feathers, Flying past, 

Wings spanning, Soaring fast, Exploring the sky.

The fire brings the smoke to rise in plumes, 

The smoke also signals rebirth — to live again.

Light in Darkness, Glistening stars, Glazing flame.

Hope in , Glory of —

Light. 

—–

Light 

Beaming, Revealing, 

Unravelling mystery, Untwisting falsehood, Enlightening knowledge.

Shadow has no place to hide from light;

Darkness loves the corners hidden. 

Nightmares, Souls which quake, Fear Whispers, 

Gloomy, Depressing, 

Darkness.

—-

Dark, 

Twilight falling, Shaded sky, 

Creeps in Shadow, Blackening, Opaqueness.

Not a breath of light or air to spare in life;

Darkness in death, leads to despair without hope. 

Taking Cover, Teasing Fate, Testing Boundaries.

The End, Fini, 

Death.

—-

Death,

Scythe wielded, Bones rattling,

Soul gone, Decaying body, Empty shell.

The dead will rise at the end of days;

But until then, those of light stay in rays. 

Breath of freshest air,  No worries, No sorrow,

Peace, Promise Kept, 

Heaven.

—–

Fire,

Blazing inferno, Uncontrollable, 

Crisp hearts, Burnt hands, Wild fire’s agony.

Fire cooks our food, the first discovery of man;

But fire too, is life and rebirth; death is not the end.

Renewing life, Forest regrowing, Animals returning,

Hopeful for, Breath of —

Life. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Mirrored Refrain – ” Babe to Little Girl”


Thank you to The Daily Post for the prompt words: Playful,Smooth,and Connected.


Baby Girl
http://www.pinterest.com

Softest, palest skin, girl with bright blue eyes,

Tiny, huddled, swaddled in blankets tight.

Gossamer fabrics, plush and fluffy, hide.

Smooth, delicate artistry; babe thrives.


Connection between child and mother strong,

Small babe in pink, flaxen blond hair curls.

Smooth delicate artistry; babe thrives,

Gossamer fabrics, plush and fluffy, hide.


Developing, playful; peering, curious eyes,

Sits up on Mama’s lap; with head up right.

Gossamer fabrics, plush and fluffy, hide,

Smooth delicate artistry; babe born, thrives.


Seated in bumbo, gurgling smile, laughs,

Lifted into the air, Dad’s hands girl whirls,

Smooth delicate artistry; babe thrives,

Gossamer fabrics, plush and fluffy, hide.


Time to crawl around, then up on her feet,

Flaxen hair lengthens, tiny teeth start to bite.

Gossamer fabrics, plush and fluffy, hide,

Smooth and delicate artistry; babe thrives.


Independence forms, play-dates, swimming lessons,

Not a baby long; connects with other girls.

Smooth and delicate artistry; babe thrives,

Gossamer fabrics, plush and fluffy, hide.


Away to playschool and kindergarten,

Babe a moment; small girl in Mama’s sight.

Gossamer fabrics, plush and fluffy, hide,

Smooth and delicate artistry; babe thrives.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

 

Maydays: Poem – Free Verse – “Delicate and Strong” #Maydays



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Thanks to K.L. Caley of net2writing for hosting #Maydays Prompts. Today’s prompt is girl power.

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http://www.nataliecass.com

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She flicks her hair back, examining her face. 

Makeup perfect, eyes smoked with cat flicks.

Blue eyes, peering back at her, clear and focused —

About to work-out in a gym full of men, 

She rolls her shoulders, bare but built.

Self-defence requires strong muscles, 

Carrying kids, moving furniture around;

Working out in a gym surrounded by men can be hard.

—–

Males eat her with their eyes, staring at her rounded curves.

Examining her from her blond ponytail, 

To her hands plane of nail polish, picking up weights.

Her makeup is smearing, 

Her tattoo visible on her upper back, 

A poppy for peace, and the names of her children.

——

They’re eyeing her up, like a piece of steak.

Rare and beautiful, she doesn’t return their gaze.

She’s got a man, and he values her love.

She gave him her heart, so she’s not going to —

Squander his love, on an ogling gym rat.

Making a meal of her, when she was fatter;

And now that she’s thinner, doesn’t matter her size —

Putting up with catcalling, men brushing too closely.

Sexually explicit conversations about her, 

Loud through her head phones playing:

Beyoncé, Carry Underwood, and Alicia Keys.
——–

Finishing working on her back and onto her arms, 

She stands up and walks, for cleaner to wipe the weights off.

A cavalier man gives her yoga pant wearing butt a slap,

Self-defence in motion, with an elbow to the nose, 

A knee to the crotch, shoving man to the floor.

Tears in her eyes, she’s been here to often. 

But she’s built up walls and she’s made herself strong, 

Wishing men wouldn’t value her for her tank top and yoga pants, 

Her body showing skin, doesn’t give men the right to objectify her.

——

But she has power behind her body; a strong mind and integrity, 

A God who builds her up, when she is stark afraid,

Staring at the man on the floor groaning, she offers her hand.

She’s sweating, fighting tears; as strong as she is delicate,

It’s hard for a woman to keep the balance of life, in her life, 

And if you really love a woman, you know her strength lies, 

In the moments of life, that haunt her the most.

In the strength she draws from experience, 

And in those she loves the most. 

——

Alicia Keys – ” Girl On Fire “

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101: Day 10 – Dentures


Prompt: Let the Scene Write Itself

The taxi drops me off at Jasper ave and one-hundred-and-sixth street. I know Jasper ave well. I’ve been into many of the buildings on the ave. I have been coming to the City Centre mall for errands, lunch, and getting my hair done since I was in highschool.

This building, it’s only the second time I have visited it. On top of a Tim Horton’s and a post office is a highrise full of doctors of every kind. I was referred to go see Dr. P, a specialist, after my regular dentist took one look at my teeth and said: ” I can’t fix these, look at your bottom teeth, you’re going to need a crown on everyone.” I was shocked. I had always had the best teeth in my family. I only had one cavity ever. But since 2010, a year after I started having to take a cocktail of medications, my perfect teeth began to pit from acidity. To this day no dentist can find out why. I don’t drink fruit juice, I only have one pop a day, I don’t eat many citrus fruit, I’m not bulemic, and I don’t have stomach acid.

Dr. P looks at me in the dentist chair, he is showing me molds taken of my teeth. “See how your bite just fits exactly together, there is no space you should have space between the bottom and top. I don’t know why your teeth are so acidic but you need to wear your mouth guard. Your teeth are delicate and thin. See how thin they are? And look at this X-Ray, the roots of your teeth are perfect but when we get up top the enamel is just gone. You have to wear the mouth guard or we’ll have to pull all your teeth out and you’ll have dentures at forty.”

This was not what I expected to hear from Dr. P. I thought he might suggest crowns but instead he says I have to ” protect what I have.” I have to wear the horrible night guard. I told them I have insomnia, I cannot sleep with it in. But he says I have to wear it or I will be like my Grandpa and have dentures. It makes me angry, like I don’t already have enough health issues to deal with. 

I have to wear the mouth guard as much as possible and once we check with insurance, they will make me a new one that fits perfectly. They never fit perfectly. They are always hard to breath through and hurt your mouth. The mouth guard gives me headaches but I have to wear it! I have been grinding my teeth since I was five and now because my teeth are thin, there is no choice but to wear it. No way in Hell are they pulling my teeth out. ” That’s not so bad,” my mother says. I choke down my reply. Would she like dentures? I doubt it and she’s fifty-seven. I keep picturing the cup my Grandpa put his dentures in with polident. That won’t be me.