Photo Challenge: Poem – Wrapped Refrain(2) – ” The Perks of Floating” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the photo prompt challenge.


Credit: Josh Hayes

 

I have a great deal of trouble staying straight up grounded,

If you got to know me, you’d see at times I feel confounding.

I don’t understand it myself,

But imagination is wealth.

So I know it’s okay to fly,

Up into the grayish sky.

Because I know how to make black and white turn colorful,

I can make a life of gray tones light so wonderfully.

——

It’s not that I’m anything unusual, different,

Then anybody else or even those who write proficiently.

But anyone who inks the page,

Knows what writers create engaged,

It’s exciting, magical,

Uplifting, and illogical.

The writer illustrates, cuts, folds, does the restitching —

Of stories; ripping out seams until what is left enriches.

——

It’s not easy to comprehend the scribbles and —

You find delicious cake baked, chocolate rich and grand,

Icing so sweet, flavor melding,

A creation vivid felt.

Picture perfect, read with pride,

And more delightfulness resides,

Hidden inside these golden words so captivating,

Intoxicating, ethereal, rising enraptured.

——-

Perhaps it’s not clear, why I let a balloon carry me floating,

It’s just, I’m seduced by language, writing, hopeful words wrote.

So protecting myself from —

Life’s elements thrumming,

Inside me, around me — I’m safe,

Despite trolls, odd notes of hatred.

I keep honing my craft, in my prettiest flats,

My comfortable wool coat; the writing it lifts me enwrapped.

——-

I let the fates lead me where the wind blows me, knowing,

I could be entrenched in editing woes, left moaning.

But I keep going with my muse,

Taking all of her abuses.

‘Cause they teach me burying —

My secrets, is so worrying.

My inspirations keep the balloon drifting, rising,

I have a great deal of trouble, but my writing makes me smile, surviving.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

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#OctPoWriMo – Day 2 – Kyrielle – “Facing The Void” #amwriting #poetry


Day 2 Prompt – The Void

As writers, and especially poetry writers, I believe we dive into the void on a regular basis to find the words, to gain perspective, to hibernate and more. How have you used the void? What does, “the void” mean to you?

——-

http://www.linkedin.com

——

They said the void was some place dark, 

A place to fear, our thoughts to erase. 

Dove into the whirlpool, left my mark. 

Change begins, fearless the void face.

——-

Told me, the void was nothingness, 

I found vision, a sign of grace. 

Everything made sense, was goodness, 

Change begins, fearless the void face.

——–

Pathways curved, I yet had to fight, 

Marathon as life, mine a race. 

Engaged in battle, with small might. 

Change begins, fearless the void face.

——-

I experienced some awful times,

Then settled back, whirlpool escaped. 

Came out stronger, knowing my prize.

Change begins, fearless the void face.

——–

Peace and clarity, I gained true. 

Mind relaxed, no longer head case.

Spirit guided me, wings of lace. 

Change begins, fearless the void face. 

———

© Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: Never Abuse Her 


Thank you to Nortina S for hosting Moral Monday’s prompts. This week’s moral is: “There is no fear in love.” 

——–

Dimitri Otis Images

———

The first time Lilly saw Marco, he bought her coffee in line at Starbucks near work. He insisted on buying her coffee everyday. Lilly was upset. She could afford her own coffee.

“Why do you buy my coffee everyday?”

“I enjoy treating you. I was going to ask you out as well, if that’s okay?” Marco asked,  Lilly blushed.

——–

A year later, they were engaged, however; Lilly spilled her coffee on Marco’s favourite shirt, one Saturday. 

Marco sighed and lifted his hand and Lilly shrank down, thinking he was going to hit her as her last boyfriend had.

Instead, Marco put his arms around Lilly and hugged her.”I will never abuse you; I’m sorry you’ve experienced it before.” 

——–

©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.

Maydays: Poem – Free Verse – “Left Out.” #Maydays #amwriting



——

Thanks to K.L. Caley from new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. I skipped the prompt about geeking out for now. But am going to write about today’s prompt on friendship. My view in my poem today is that even though friendship is excellent, there are times it is frustrating. 

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

I know all my friends are out, 

And I’m stuck inside.

I know we’re true adults now, 

I still feel left out.

As if I wasn’t living life, 

As if I’ve missed so much to time.

Conversations and memories, 

I was never privy too.

——-

Maybe I’ll never grow up,

Maybe a job high up isn’t so vital.

I’m making life up as I go, 

It’s the best I can do, 

I wish sometimes you understood, 

It’s extremely difficult for me sometimes, 

Not only dealing with what life throws at you,

But trying to work through problems, 

Going through a veil, more like a brick wall —

Somedays.

——-

Cancer is killing my friend, 

I don’t know if she knows, 

How wonderful a friend she is to me,

And I don’t know why but she always, 

Floods the room with her beautiful light.

She has cancer and yet, 

Her energy level is much better than mine.

I don’t know how to make my best friends understand, 

They do, but sometimes, 

They don’t see anything at all.

——

Two hours in, needing to sit down and not move, 

Having eaten two pieces of cake, 

One I shouldn’t have eaten. 

Brought the hostess wine, 

Do all the right things to be a gracious guest.

But rarely, do I feel ‘in’ on all the things going on.

I don’t know that feeling anymore, 

I’m used to friends talking around me, 

My mind fading in and out.

I try to pay attention, all the hours I’m out, 

Don’t treat me as a child, like I can’t handle life.

Like I can’t handle honest words and your normal lives, 

Mental illness is a bitch and people have little thought, 

Of what you’re working past.

People may think things, 

At this point I assume my besties understand my battle, 

But maybe they don’t understand?

——

Maybe it’s still a disease people feel uncomfortable about, 

Because they’re grown up into adults with jobs.

They have kids and careers, 

They’ve the normal life.

I’m at home after years, fighting to have energy, 

Writing writing, who picks that as a career? 

But my dreams live and drive me forward.

No matter if my story is polished and presentable, 

I make myself impeccable.

Nice hair and makeup, 

Cute clothes for my size, 

Trying to be thin, like most of them, 

Pretty as them, but more width to my hips.

——

Striving for someone to take interest in me, 

Not feel I’m doing nothing with my life, 

Ask questions about me and be curious, 

Just as I am curious about your life.

Don’t talk over me, 

I know you all have your own fights, 

Cancer the biggest I believe right now.

I wish because of it, you’d understand me more too.

I’m launching myself forward, 

But I must move to a slower pace.

I don’t want to lose my best friends, 

I don’t want to be the only one who feels, 

We need to stay in touch.

——–

An attractive guy would be nice,

A listener, a toucher, a hockey game lover.

I’d love a dog and our own condo, 

No debt, and the ability to exercise well.

All these things I want, 

With boundless energy, 

No more worry about what my friends think of my illness.

Just like them, normal.

——

I want safety in his touch,

Seeking closeness with him and equality.

Connected to me, he’s not half-treating me, 

As of I’m forever a spoiled kid, 

Just because I need a ride.

Because I’m not well enough to drive.

Themes that under lie my life at times, 

Girls looking above me, raising their noses, 

Not knowing I fly in stars and midnight showers of rain.

Soaked to the bone in my imagination, 

Dipping my toes in the rain as I write, 

Sharing my gift and my faith, 

Wisdom of magic and belief.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Maydays: Fiction- Remorseless #Maydays



——

Thanks to K.L. Caley for hosting #Maydays. Today’s prompt is something evil.

——

Brittany Evans was a seasoned District Attorney. She had slaved many hours convicting Jay Brighten of a slew of connected murders. Today, the last victim Vicky Bernhardt would receive justice.

Brighten had viciously killed and dismembered the corpses of young women all over the US. Having finally been caught three-years ago, he was still not remorseful.

As Brittany faced him on the witness stand, his chilling gaze made her want to run.The hollowness of Brighten’s black gaze made Brittany feel as she had every time he was on the witness stand; as if she were staring into the pits of Hell.

“Mr. Brighten,” Brittany said quivering inside, “Did you or did you not kill Vicky  Bernhardt, stabbing her an excessive amount of times?”

“Yes, I killed her. I stabbed her seventy-six times to be exact.” Brighten said matter-of-factly.

Brittany was taken aback as usual. Brighten was always frighteningly honest with his answers to her questions. “You were counting how many times you stabbed Vicky?”

“Yes, I counted every single time I stabbed Vicky. I counted for every woman I killed.”

“Why did you stab Vicky and stab all those women, many times?”

Brighten appeared bored as he regarded Brittany.”They were sluts. I don’t care about whores. If they wanted to remain alive they should have made better life choices. Vicky was another whore who needed killing.”

“You believe Vicky needed killing, Mr. Brighten?” Britanny asked scared of what she would hear. Whatever his answer, his words always chilled her to the bone.

“Of course she needed killing. Vicky deserved it. Every one of those sluts I stabbed deserved it. They’re adulterous whores breaking the Ten Commandments. I was doing what had to be done. It’s what God would’ve wanted.”

Brighten sighed as if Britanny was wasting his time. He felt no remorse for his actions it was clear.

“Why did you dismember the dead women? Vicky most significantly?” Brittany asked firmly.

“Same reason. Whores don’t deserve proper burial. Their bodies are already desecrated, so I cut them up like the animals they were.”

The entire courtroom seemed to gasp appalled. Brittany, a trained attorney, felt sick. But then, facing Brighten on the witness stand as she had done numerous times, always made her stomach knot.

“Vicky and those other women you killed weren’t ladies of the night, they weren’t working the streets looking to have sex with men for money Mr. Brighten. Vicky was a university student with a high GPA. She played Tennis. Her boyfriends name was Tom. By all accounts, she was a faithful girlfriend. In fact, all the women you’ve killed have been young professionals or university students with full and happy lives. They were faithful to their partners. What do to say now, Mr. Brighten?”

Brighten had the audacity to roll his eyes. The Judge frowned at him darkly.

“They weren’t married to their boyfriends. They were sluts.That’s why Vicky was a whore and all the rest of those women.”

Brittany couldn’t believe what she was hearing again. Brighten always gave the same horrifying answers.

“Those were real relationships. Many of the girls you killed were engaged. They weren’t sleeping around with multiple partners. They were faithful to their one boyfriend or fiance. They weren’t trading sex for accommodations, food, or clothing. Vicky and every single woman you killed had a job and many were working towards a better one attending school. I don’t understand? Why were Vicky and all these women whores as you say?”

Brighten laughed. “You don’t get it because you’re one.”

“Excuse me?” Brittany said angrily. The Judge called for order in the court.

“They weren’t married,” Brighten emphasized each word. “They’re whores because they were not married to their boyfriends. They didn’t stay virgins until marriage.”

“I’ve read about you and your long-term boyfriend.” Brighten added. “Been together ten-years. You’re a whore. I should’ve killed you too. I should have been less discriminating and killed every woman I could. At least the virgins would go to heaven.”

Brittany was shocked. Her courtroom facade had gone pale. Quickly, she collected herself staring in Brighten’s demonic eyes. She felt as if they were eating her soul, each time she heard him answer a question.

“You’ve been found guilty of sixteen young women’s death for first degree murder along with several other crimes. You pleaded guilty for all of them. You pled guilty to murdering Vicky, the last woman you killed before the police arrested you.” Britanny said with hidden rage in her voice.

“Don’t you care you broke the Ten Commandment: ‘Thou Shall Not Kill?’ Don’t you think when they kill you on death row, God isn’t going to be there on the other side welcoming you to heaven for killing innocent women such as Vicky because you too broke a commandment? By your logic it’s what follows.”

Brighten laughed and laughed. “None of those women are innocent. God will be pleased with me, even though I broke a commandment.”

“So you’re allowed a pass but Vicky and the other women weren’t?”

Brighten smirked not answering the question.

“Answer the question Mr. Brighten,”the Judge ordered.

Brighten laughed maniacally and Brittany felt as if she was going to throw up.

—–

It was years later, but Brighten’s laugh still haunted Brittany’s nightmares. Her dreams terrified her even as she watched Jay Brighten’s execution.

He never showed any remorse or any guilt. Such as many death row prisoners had, Brighten had no religious epiphanies. Brighten still believed he had every right to kill all those women ten-years later when he was finally executed.

Was he going to be shocked after he died.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.