Three Line Tales/ #TaleWeavers / #MusicChallenge: Poem – Bop – “Doorway to Home” #amwriting #poetry #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. Also, thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie and his Tale Weaver Prompt of “time’s up,” literally or figuratively in a piece 500 to 600 words at most. A triple combo for this one with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Music Challenge and the song “Hope in the Air (I Speak Because I Can)” by Laura Marling.


Credit: Sonya


Hope in the Air (I Speak Because I Can” by Laura Marling


Time’s a limited but precious present,

So, never squander it so hesitant.

Don’t be an old man with words lost to the sea,

Say what you truly mean, set your soul free.

Don’t let the end come your wasp’s tongue too numb,

Don’t fear my next visit, your mind and ears dumb.

Learn — never forget to hope against hope;

Spend not life somber, your last line’s aren’t wrote.

Hope’s Air and Water; your doorway to Home.

Men may fall graceless when easily provoked,

They’ll stumble, choke as life’s gift is revoked.

Death’s the end for all, one day the reaper;

Face me not with fear, I’m your soul’s keeper.

I come not with curses for those who’ve kept faith,

I’m no doom-ridden creeper nor dark wraith.

So, fear me not, live your life full and whole;

Shrink not — fear your evil deeds, those woeful.

Hope’s Air and Water; your doorway to Home.

So, don’t give in; pull your boots up, hold —

Onto your candle, its flame’s spreading bold.

I can’t save a soul, with good deeds or gold,

I can share His light; it burns but He’ll mold —

You up-right when your wax melts, and you wane.

Before it’s done believe, gleam bright with God’s hope.

Hope’s Air and Water; your doorway to Home.

******


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Advertisements

Three Line Tales: Poems – Lunes – “Blinded” #3LineTales #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.

——-

Credit: Matt Palmer via Unsplash

——–

I’ll say it, because every —

Woman’s thinking it. 

We all know sparklers burn. 

——

Fire burns, even with goggles. 

No sober woman, 

Or drunk, would place fire —

——

Right near to her eye, 

Expecting sometime she —

Won’t get burned or blinded. 

—–

©Mandibelke16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Collage Prompt: Poem – Florette – “Such Guests” #amwriting #poetry #writing 


Thank you to MindLoveMosery’s Menagerie for hosting this collage prompt:

——-

MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

———

My guest house, resides within

But I don’t feel right allowing–

Just anyone inside my own home

Guests like to roam, to destroy where they now reside. 

—-

My favourite friend is joy visiting, 

She shines brightly and never winces.

Anger comes in with wretched face

I tell him grace, will calm his raging –fire he spits

—–

Sorrow sacks the house, with no words, 

Brings anger and hurt with her to purge. 

But I serve them tea; she cries with tears,

Cries out all fears, sets the house right with kindness emerge.

—–

All these emotions come and go, 

Cathartic it feels, clearing my woes. 

Honouring them all, realize

These woes humanize me, make space within my soul. 

—–

Malice and shame, they wound the most, 

Ridicule my manners as host. 

Hate my guest house, demand refund. 

But they’re both numb; I learn from such awful ghosts. 

—–

My inner guest house is free for —

New glories to stride in and pour, 

Grace and mercy within my life

Now relieved strife fled, created much in me —more

——

©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.