Published Poem: SpillWords.com – Free Verse – “The Maiden and the Dragon”#amwriting #poetry #SpillWords


Sharing another SpillWords published poem called “The Maiden and the Dragon.” If you enjoy my work, please make like it (choose a rating with stars) on the SpillWords website. Thanks to them for another collaboration.


Credit: SpillWords.com


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo – Day 12/ Tale Weavers: Poem – Sestina – “The Reluctant Princess” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers 


OctPoWriMo Day 12 is a poem on theme of imagination. It also has a special poetry form called a Sestina. I’m combining this prompt with Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt of a reluctant princess. 

“A sestina is 39 lines, 6 stanzas with 6 lines each plus a tag. Begin with 6 words of your choice.Take those words and rotate them at the ends of your stanzas. They rotate in a round with the last word of the last line being the last word of the first line in the next stanza. Your lines can be any length, though it just looks nicer if they’re quite regular.” 

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Credit: Luke Marshall via Unsplash

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Princess wishing for saving but her mind

Changes thought after awhile left waiting. 

Time goes by and the princess, she contrives —

Better plans to be herself, to fulfill dreams

Caring not if Prince Charming’s attractive, 

She drugs the dragon, starts ever-after. 

—-

In boy’s clothes, leaves for her ever-after, 

Princess shunning a dusty castle mind —

Focused on the path past the moat, awaits, 

Challenges, aspirations, contriving —

And listing, all she desires to do, dreams —

A life that is hers, no dull prince, unattractive

—-

She swims easily through water not attracting

Guard who had watched her forever-after.

She climbs past the moat, into sunshine, mind —

Reeling at the brightness of dawn; she’s waiting

To slip into the forest contriving

Survival though sheltered, planning her dreams. 

——-

Who should come to ruin her heartfelt, desired dreams? 

But a mean grumpy prince so unattractive —

Manners, pretty, not her ever-after —

She kicks fragile parts; she has a sharp mind —

Laughing, runs to whatever in life awaits, 

Inexperienced but smart, she contrives —

——

Her new life, with hidden coins she contrives

To buy a home, train for job of dreams.

Country home and teaching school, sounds attractive

Her imagination’s wild ever-after, 

It’s the person she is, needs no prince, minds —

Respecting him — an awful fate waiting, 

—–

Though the dumb prince chases her, she’s waiting —

When he’s down she escapes and contrives

New methods for hopeful life, while dreaming —

Plans to go where she’ll not attention attract. 

Off to the Americas ever-after. 

Away from being controlled, at peace in mind

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 





 



Sunday Photo Fiction: The Dragon Keeper #amwriting #flashfiction #dragons 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF last week! 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alastair Forbes

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Leisbeth crooned to her pet dragon, Brand. She had raised him from when he was nothing but a babe, pushing his way out of his golden egg. 

Brand would never be a huge dragon, but he was worth a lot of money to many people.  His scales, his wings, and his teeth were valuable so Leisbeth protected him. She cared for his wounds from hunting for large animals and after locals injured him.

Despite being gentle, Leisbeth could be fierce. She knew she was fragile, but she possessed a gift, sorcery not even Brand knew she possessed.

In turn, Brand was Leisbeth’s protector. He knew she was a soft woman, her voice small and melodic. Her hands uncalloused and her long blond hair shiny and flowing. All these traits of beauty put her in danger. 

She knew nothing of the cruel world, that men spilled blood, both dragon and human for small amounts of silver. Brand still remembered the screams of his dragon parents slaughtered, as he fought his way from his golden egg. He was tiny then, but he remembered their terrified roars. 

However, Liesbeth had saved him so they would always be together. Brand would protect her inherit gentleness while she would guard him with her magic. Those who would hurt her intelligent companion would regret it. 

To Leisbeth, Brand was her friend who in private, loved to be held and stroked. Both their abilities would keep the other alive for thousands of years. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers: Poem – The Blitz – “The Maiden and The Dragon” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt about a quest, such as the ones JRR Tolkien writes about in his famous books. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Dragons are here, I know it

Dragons beware, my sword is sharp

Sharp as the knives hid on my body

Sharp as the tongue of my wife

Wife said, “Do not go” 

Wife begged, yet I went 

Went through the haunted forest dark 

Went through the storms, muck, and mire

Mire as quicksand, sucked in my body

Mire that almost swallowed my life

Life burnt a flaming hole so wide

Life’s flame would not flicker out

Out of the muck and mire pulled

Out of certain death to rescue a princess

Locked in a tower for my Lord, my King 

Locked in a tower and languishing

Languished she did for centuries

Languished as a spell had been cast

Cast, so she would always sleep

Cast, because evil always hates

Hates beauty and goodness

Hates who this princess is said to be 

Be afraid though, I warn you, friend 

Be vigilant in your task to save 

Saving the princess isn’t the challenge

Saving her, I wondered, where is the dragon? 

Dragon she rose from the depths of beauty 

Dragon was the the princess herself 

Herself screaming, “I am the dragon”

Herself shouting, “I will eat you whole” 

Wholly she transformed in that fiery beast

Wholly she was a scaled, sulphereous demon

Demon who cried, “I am no damsal in distress”

Demon who seethed, “I protect me” 

Me, I gazed upon the languishing beauty 

Me, my eyes met the dragons yellow-eyed stare

Stared into my soul, saw I was a ruin 

Stared into my heart, saw I was wretched

Wretched cursed princess, the dragon? 

Wretched as the princess waiting 

Waiting and no one came so she grew tired

Waiting as she wrecks her vengeance 

Vengeance because no hero is true 

Vengeance, she can depend only on herself, no heroes 

Hereo, the archetypal kind who abuse poor maidens

Heroe, is there such a man who ever existed? 

Existed a hero she once did love 

Existed her hero but he never came — she remains cursed 

Cursed though she be, I could not destroy the beast

Cursed, she knows not why she is punished, cursed. 

Beast but still a girl, so I left, ashamed I could not save her. 

Cursed, she lingers on my mind, the maiden, the dragon as one

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Awakening the Dragon #flashfiction #amwriting #dragon


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

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Sophia hid in her closet, it was her only safe place. Hanging on a ceiling was a mobile with a handcrafted dragon. She remembered thinking the dragon was frightening, but whenever the darkness in her room swallowed her, the dragon’s eyes flashed; the shadows were obliterated. 

She also remembered when her mom first hit her. She scrubbed Sophia’s cut and it was excruciating as was the burning stringent liquid her mom poured on it.

 Suddenly, Sophia heard yelling and stomping. The closest door flew open — her mother was drunk again. 
Instantly, the dragon’s eyes above her caught fire. He grew into a monster with golden scales and the scent of fire and ash, spreading and filling Sophia’s entire bedroom. He blew a blaze of fire at her mom but only the bottle of Kirkland Tequila (1.75 Litres/$20.00) in her mom’s hand disintegrated. 

In words veiled in smoke the dragon hissed at Sophia’s mom who nodded; she understood the dragon’s warning. He breathed out his last plume of smoke and except for the acrid smell, it was if Sophie’s dragon had never awoken. 

She crawled out of her hiding place and petted the handcrafted dragon hearing him purr.

——- 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Maydays: Ease Up On The Plush Toys #Maydays


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Thanks to K.L. Caley from new2writing for hosting the #Mayday prompts. Today’s prompt is something to do with a teddy bear.


Teddy Bear
http://www.pixebay.com

 

My Mom tells me I had a favourite stuffed toy I destroyed as a baby. But If I were to remember any stuffed toy I had it would be this white polar bear which held a smaller baby polar inside her arms. She was soft and fluffy and her claws were sharp plastic. I put her on my bed with my other stuffed animals and they all collected dust.

I mention this because people often think a significant gift or donation item to give children are stuffed toys. Unless the child is small, I don’t think this is the case. Kids don’t play much with stuffed animals. Some children have one teddy they like to sleep with but I think in many cases, that’s about it.

Kids who do adore stuffed animals, are often specific about the stuffed animal they want. Such as a child wanting ‘Toothless’ a dragon from How To Train Your Dragon 1, 2, or 3, because the movies are the child’s favourite movies to watch. Mostly, I think each child receives more stuffed animals than they need in a lifetime.

So instead of donating another stuffed animal to a cause, think of a toy your children or the children you know, enjoy playing with a great deal. Think of toys such as Lego, cars, Barbies, something technological, or something to do with a popular movie that isn’t a stuffed toy. Maybe a gift-card to get children’s books on their parent’s IPAD or actual paper books. Let’s ease up on the teddy bears and plush toys.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “Paper Bag Princess.”


  
Here’s for the meanings and the seemings,

The words we’ve been breathing, though they are concealing,

We’re never hidden behind steal, or a solid wall of bricks.

And we’re shamed, peeking out of ‘the cupboard,’ hiding like the Indian did from a childhood book.

 We move through our thoughts, the glances of others who don’t understand —

What it means to remain hidden.

——

They’re all out there with their sunglasses and dreamy looks,

 In a world finding love, come together — some love separates. 

And I haven’t spent the days before Valentine’s Day dreaming,

 I don’t need a man to give me flowers or chocolates. 

I don’t need more demands and inferences of combinations dialled,

Short and electric, but fizzles and drizzles, as the rain pours outside. 

Dividing our time between sleeping and daylight,

And the sun keeps on rising; 

I keep on imprivising all the things I’m construing,

In a mind filled with despising a guy who I left.

Who made me know what it hurts like to feel neglect,

After he’s gone on, but still calling — I wish he would stop.

 That I could forget all about these “tygers” and their wants. 

I’m not happy nor comfortable, unless they get their cut, pieces of my being;

They’re dividing me among each other, taking the best cuts and leaving the scraps.

—–

And outside is a puppy and I want to hold her, because she doesn’t need much —

Only to eat, walk, cuddle, play, and go wee.

She needs her nails clipped and her teeth brushed sometimes. 

I’m a woman begging everyday of her life for things I’m uninspired to give,

If you won’t even attempt to do better, make it as important as a ‘business deal.’

 I’m not above you or below you you dirty-thirty-something.

 I’m just looking for meaning among people who are loyal.

I’m caught in my dreams, betwixt the real and the “real” in this Wonderland. 

And if we look through the ‘looking glass’ we only see people in poverty,

Who are thinking only of eating and surviving. 

Loving doesn’t matter much when you are looking for fresh water, 

When you’re sickly and dying — or does it matter most?

——

But here, won’t you hear me —

In our first- world of problems — 

I’m trying! I’m trying — but it’s never enough.

You dragons eat your steaks and leave me with nothing but my dry bones. 

You ravish a ‘paper-bag princess’ and leave her without a stitch;

Clothes that cover her heart.

And you suck her organs dry of blood and all matter,

You leave a her exposed for the vultures to grasp at,

 You break open a bottle of liquor and the whole room explodes, 

Covered in champagne and the bubbles make you choke.

Sifting through closets, cover up my exposed heart,

I don’t want to reveal myself but in the “real” world I must.

 Because if your broken your fixable and can be put back together,

 A mirror that’s shattered and eternally busted.

——

And these words may make little sense but that’s what you call — prose poetry,

Of a girl, who’s  a woman, who’s a child, who’s lured by the promises,

Of a blackness so bleak no one can see in front of their face,

Because in the darkest depths, the light shines brightest.

Arise and save yourself, 

Think of the words to describe your freedom desired —

Taylor Swift wrote it well: ” It’s too late for you and your white horse to catch me now.”

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Septolet – “Dragon’s Fire.”


The Septolet is a poem consisting of seven lines containing fourteen words with a break in between the two parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create a picture.

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information on this form.

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http://www.pinterest.com
 
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Engaging demon,

Caught dreaming, 

Roars.

——

Rapid movement,

Teeth snapping, 

Crash.

—–

Couldn’t perceive,

Dragon’s burning,

Embers.

—–
Comatose seeming,

Monster gleaming 

Terror.

—-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Fire in the Sky


“Oh misty eye of the mountain below . . . ” words of the song that Tolkien wrote; the desolation of smog made the town burn, and fire reigned in the sky, a dragon’s evil. Or, maybe evil in real-life?

” Fire in the mountain . . .  we see fire burning the trees . . . if we should die, then we’ll all die together and raise a glass of wine, for the last time.”I repeat these phrases in my head. I wonder if Tolkien thought about fire burning lives to pieces in reality. 

You see in life their are many dragons, they put afire everything, the town is like the buildings we put in place to prop up our lives, to live in peace supported. But not even shelter can save us. 

When those supports burn, where are we then, just fodder for smog and his smokey breath. Buildings are wood and wood goes to ash. Where’s that one little spot on the dragon we can hit, a missing scale, a little nick, bring down terror to his knees. 

But in life our dragons are fiercer then smog. They are thin as vapour and kill us with smoke. We cannot see them but we know they are there, an evil dreaming the Devil’s nightmares. If we see them, God give us hope. 

Does good overcome in real life too? Or do we die as dwarves, and Elvan folk do? Do we cry as a woodland creature over our loves? Do we go off to battle to forget our problems? Are we so surrounded and submerged by evil that we cannot see, daylight and peace in the morning breeze?

Do we offer jewels from the sky, to keep us alive? Promises to this and that if only we can keep on fighting; or do we raise that glass of wina and plan to fall today? No strength in us, though strength was what we found when we thought there was none. 

Misty, eye? You look troubled. Do you know the threat in a mountain full of gold? The troubled breath of a mouth of fire? Rage and deception to keep all that’s gathered. Cursed bits of our souls, like cursed bits of gold. Coin upon crown, upon necklace, upon throne. 

What keeps us together while our supports burn? When the coffers are empty, when we have no cheer? Do we sing lovely songs while we die by trial? Do we come to the aid of perfect strangers? Battle makes friends out of enemies. And dragons fall from their places of gold and emeralds. 

They’re are dragons in Paris, a place I’ll see one day. Terrorism brings fire, makes the ancient town burn. One-hundred people fall in a concert venue and more across the city, people held hostage.  A form of Smog, that vindictive evil kills the innocent.

In ‘The Hobbit’ many died, and Bilbo found out that even a Hobbit can do a lot, though he is small. But bodies lie dead where the armies have fought, no invisible ring to save you from a shot. The terror is real, he comes in so close. Not in stories but in real life. Terror from the sky, terror haunts us in real life. 

———

“The Hobbit” JRR Tolkien