Tale Weavers: Poem – Rictameter – “Foresight” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver prompt having to do with the importance of sight, physical, spiritual, or beyond. Also thank you to Linda J. Wolf of the blog Urban Poetry for the new poem format. Rictameter verse had 9 lines and the first and the last line repeat. The syllable count for each line is as follows: 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2. 

——-

Also, I know many of you are doing the A to Z Challenge for April. But if anyone’s interested in poetry, join me in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). A poem a day for 30 days. You can sign your blog up at www.napowrimo.net. Each day in April, return to the site for the daily poetry prompts and remember to link back to the website when you write your poems and to tag your work #NaPoWriMo so other bloggers can read your awesome poetry. Looking forward to reading everyone’s poetry takes. If you are REALLY up for the challenge combine NaPoWriMo with the A to Z Challenge 🙂 

——–

Credit: Google Images

To see,

With clarity,

Minds are required to —

Be open to possibility.

All the relevant outcomes forecasted,

Made with thinking of calculated —

Risks; all aspects bad,

Or fortunate,

To see.

——-

Because,

Limited sight,

Costs lives, so we try —

To foresee what could occur.

What is likely to happen in certain —

Situations; or what won’t —

Occur; we attempt to —

See the future,

Because.

——

We live,

Blindly despite,

Attempts to know.

We can’t actually know;

As much as we make it seem,

As if we can configure potential,

But it’s all a fantastic lie.

We know nothing but —

Footsteps ahead,

We live.

——

Blindly,

Our sight fades for —

Physically our prime is —

Short; but we can see past —

Spiritually if only —

We choose to see, to look within and find,

Our immortality left,

After we pass on.

We try to see,

Blindly.

——-

In life,

We desire to —

Know what happens —

Next; can we stop our fears,

Trouble from taking place or should —

We leave it in God’s hands and let,

Our worry and painful burdens,

Be His to decide,

Thy Will Be Done, 

In life.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Advertisements

Finish Off Friday’s Flash Fiction: The Good Stranger


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Finish Off Friday’s. This week’s theme is footsteps in the fog.


 

Credit: Phylor – Lorraine

Footsteps echoed eerily in the fog. I’d left the pub early that night and was looking forward to being home warm in my bed.

I glanced behind me, hearing footsteps following persistently, wishing I had my black lab Iggy with me.

A large hand landed on my shoulder. Turning around with trepidation, I faced a tall man in a hoody. He raised his hands, trying to tell me he was harmless, then handed me my forgotten gold clutch.

He smiled, “I’m a bouncer at The Clover and I know you’re a regular. I saw you leaving and wanted to return your purse.”

“Thank you so much,” I stuttered trying to shove the ten from my pocket in his hand.

He refused the money insisting on walking me home, telling me about his young family.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part Seven – Nineteen-Years Later


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.


Lamp Post SPF
A Mixed Bag

“Ah, my back. A bullet hit me,” Chad was almost crying. He was half-awake and half in another wold.

He was dreaming of a lamp post glowing in the night beside a park bench. Soothing Russian words came from a man in front of him. The man was a man he had thought was his dead father, Tom.

Then, Sam shook Chad awake,”I know you’re not trained for this Chad. I’m so proud of you, but you have to stay awake.”

Chad groaned, turned on his stomach. He was shocked to see he had been shot right through his cartoon seal tattoo.

“Marrion, look at my tattoo.” Chad rasped.

Marrion was hiding on the floor beside Chad and Sam. They were behind the science lab counters in the back of the lab.

She gasped, grabbing the device she had used to scan Chad’s tattoo before and scanning his tattoo again. She hurriedly, grabbed gauze from a cupboard under a counter.

“Thank God,” she said. “Chad hold the gauze against your tattoo or you’re going to die.”

She smiled at both Sam and Chad: “The bullet deactivated Chad’s tattoo. For all of the technology put into the tattoo, none of it works now.”

The gunshots came closer and the glass from the front door of the lab shattered. Then there were voices.” I remember that voice speaking Russian,” Chad murmured.

“Tom speaks Russian.”  Sam said, then was shocked to hear the distinct tone of his brother’s voice.

“Tom’s here,” Marrion said shaking, pressing her hand against the gauze on Chad’s wound.

“It will be okay honey, I’ve got Tom.” Sam said soothingly. He got up, holding a large gun ready to fire. He slowly, walked towards the sound of Tom’s voice.

“Well, well,” a voice said in English.”My brother Sam. Here to kill me again? You need to give me Chad now.”

“Get ready to run Chad. It’s going to hurt you,” Marrion whispered.

They both escaped out an emergency door to the lab. The fire alarms went off covering Chad’s screams of pain.

He heard yelling and footsteps behind him, before he again, passed-out.


Read part 6 here.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Shakespearen Sonnet – “Guiding Each Other “


And finally, our prompt (optional, as always). Today, I challenge you to write a sonnet. Traditionally, sonnets are 14-line poems, with ten syllables per line, written in iambs (i.e., with a meter in which an unstressed syllable is followed by one stressed syllable, and so on). There are several traditional rhyme schemes, including the Petrarchan, Spenserian, and Shakespearean sonnets. But beyond the strictures of form, sonnets usually pose a question of a sort, explore the ideas raised by the question, and then come to a conclusion. In a way, they are essays written in verse! This means you can write a “sonnet” that doesn’t have meet all of the traditional formal elements, but still functions as a mini-essay of a sort. The main point is to keep your poem tight, not rangy, and to use the shorter confines of the form to fuel the poem’s energy. As Wordsworth put it, in a very formal sonnet indeed, “Nuns fret not at their convent’s narrow room.” Happy writing!

Please see the website for NaPoWriMo for more information. Rhyme scheme is abab, cdcd, efef, gg.

—–

http://www.womensweb.in

—–

Why do we forge ahead in life, no thought,

For others in our path, hindrance to steps,

Walking on people, won’t provide what’s sought.

Pick-up the down trodden, those who have wept,

—–

Provide helping hands, pick other’s up, give —

Show undeserved grace, to the sufferring,

We were there once, desperate, needing to live.

Falling apart at the seems, blustering.

—–

We’re here to aid others as we journey,

Time ticking past until, our lives are over.

Assisting friends, before they’re lost, learning.

Life isn’t ‘us;’ let kindness spillover.

—–

Emerging fresh, considering our steps,

Aiding ourselves, others, placing footsteps.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Poem: Tanka – ” Different Footsteps” 


My passion writing,

Forming words on a book page,

Collecting writing,

Putting together word puzzles.

How stories and poems are formed

—–

You say you’ve passion,

For other ideals and work,

I feel it’s so strange,

Jumping on the bandwagon,

University repeated now.

—-

Don’t believe you know,

Though the words drip from your lips.

What your passions are.

You only see opportunity,

And it’s one which might work for you.

—–

You try to lead but —

I’m not that follower now,

Life taken me dark places,

Fear and doubt and survival,

Having health, tranquility.

—-

They tend to overshadow,

Entrepreuneral spirit,

I’m held down from growth, 

To tired to tell you such truth,

Go on with your bandwagon.

If something appears —

To good, usually isn’t —

As good as it seems.

Calculated risks are me.

I’ve need to have some control.

—-

You’re not a leader,

As you follow the nearest,

Footsteps you see,

Could be opportunity,

I need my own security.

—–

Not sure you know me,

Time has passed and I’m worn,

Seeing larger screen,

Pictures on a grandeur scale,

Brimming with words, my own task.

—–

Take no offence friend,

Life is different for me now,

I follow other —

Footsteps in my life and go,

Where I must as time flashes.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.