Current Events, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poetry – Rictameter – “Streets A New” #amwritimg #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF.

——-

Credit: J. Hardy Carroll
———

Empty, 

Thoughts with empty —

Dreams; never meant to inflict,

Such pain, no anxiety, hurt —

done unintentionally

Not considering, 

Empty. 

——-

Bare streets, 

Abandonment, 

No one comes here, danger —

Lurks in sun’s zenith and night’s chill.

Lost lonely souls wander, 

Hopeless; shifty —

Bare streets. 

——-

Broken, 

Boulevard with —

Dreams in smithereens; pieces —

Of what could’ve been, deserted. 

Littered streets, none tread 

Improvements left, 

Broken.

——

Why fix? 

Somewhere no one —

Ventures? Bring beauty to  —

Dank tenements abandoned? 

Some people still live here, 

Shuffling through, 

Why Fix? 

——-

Broken, 

I can’t hull stones, 

Nor restore past glories, 

I’m no architect with dreams of —

Organic design where the 

Forgotten dwell, blurry —

Eyed and hopeless, 

Broken. 

——

Hope means, 

Skilled developer, 

Notes potential in ruins, 

Will see masked brilliance beneath the —

Treachery; Boulevard —
Where someone sees, 

Hope is. 

——-

Anew, 

I can’t remould, 

Your splintered heart, pristine, 

I can stitch the pieces together, 

So in time, stitches fade,  

Heart heals almost, 

Anew, 

———

©Mamdibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, dVerse, Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Cascading Etherees – “Silhouettes and Blessings” #poetry #dVerse #amwriting #SaturdayMix 


Thanks to Paul Scribbles from the Poet’s Pub for hosting a #dVerse prompt reply on blessings. I’m combining this #dVerse prompt missed with last week’s Saturday Mix Prompt from Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie‘s Prompt on doing a silhouette poem

——–

Credit: Eden Hills

———–

They’re not completely obvious, often —

Difficult to find, shadowed in, 

Darkness, silhouettes hidden by, 

Electrifying light so, 

Tangerine-orange that —

All behind it is, 

Hidden, pitch black, 

They are masked, 

Easy to, 

Miss. 

—–

But, 

I know, 

You have them, 

Thankfulness for —

Blessings in disguise. 

Shadowed, hidden behind, 

Glaring light, such blaring noise, 

Searching carefully, you’ll find them, 

You’ll see all along what’s been taken, 

For granted, unrecognized blessings. 

—–

Sometimes they feel like curses, too much work, 

Then, seeing others suffer you think, 

Realize life’s not at all bad.

You’ve all your basic needs met, 

You’ve extra money for, 

Luxury and treats, 

You’re well cared for, 

God’s blessed you, 

So share, 

Give

—–

Be, 

Not mean, 

Or spiteful, 

To those who beg, 

They need a little —

Help; some food, money to —

Make it through the day and —

Eat; find a place to sleep and to, 

Clean up; they only want to be like us, 

Have their needs met, with the odd treat too.

——

If only we all counted are blessings, 

When we were richly cared for, when He, 

Made sure we made a living. 

Had money to survive. 

To buy little extras.  

To be comfortable, 

Provided for.  

We rest, they —

Shiver, 

Cold.

——-

They’re 

Hurting. 

But it’s more, 

Than the unloved —

Silhouettes. 

Never seen, covered by —

The light in the background scene, 

Never visible, dark, unseen, 

We miss seeing them these figures who’ll, 

Disappear in dark, when sun falls and sets.

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

100 Word Wednesdays, Event, Flash Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesdays: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Living Small Dreams” #100WordWednesdays #flashfiction #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting this week’s #100WordWednesdays.

——-

Credit: Jessie Williams Via Unsplash

——–

Deep night and the darkness should seem mean, 

But in day time light exposes, reveals. 

The tranquil night holds me and conceals, 

I’m finding that black pitch, it redeems.

Souls in the day ashamed of life’s greeds, 

Broken, lost, but I’m more than what I seem. 

I’m like you, I have fond hopes and wild dreams.

More basic, I just want to have life’s needs. 

Water, food, health insurance, no delusions. 

Meds so I’m like you, not fearing night screams, 

Not having nightmares on cold streets mean. 

A homeless woman, battered, unseemly, 

Wishing for small things, a roof and hygiene. 

Wishing you’d help, want out of here, achieving —

Life where I don’t struggle but live small dreams. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Health, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “What If You” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver prompt. The prompt is to come up with a ‘what if scenario and write about it.’

——

Credit: Francis E. McDonald


What if you were on the streets and had no family,

To take you in? What if you were awfully ill?

Had no health care insurance or will —

To live? ‘Cause no one cared, not really.

Disappearance might seem easier,

You think your absence won’t ever be missed.

Better for others, if your life’s dismissed?

Not in the way; without friends, eyes keeping,

Watch on you: We must help those who live ‘What If;’ too —

Many people fall through the cracks,

Cannot afford medication to live,

Or wander streets, hungry, with poor hygiene.

We all must care because the neglected need much,

Are valuable humans, who require our hands.


© Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

 

100 Word Wednesdays, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Where Ever You Go” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday


Thanks to the lovely Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.

——-

Credit: Scott Webb

———

This is your city, you may go where go, 

There is no divide, don’t sit, move with flow. 

Find your own kind, your worth is innate, 

A lust for adventure, has a mind not to wait.

Find your hopes, your dreams, in side streets and aves, 

Life is never what it seems, it’s about diverse paths. 

Meander down the walkways, from stores to the slums, 

Some have wealth and talk the talk, some are treated mute and dumb. 

Be not afraid to love everyone, 

Not as your sweetheart loved, but as a person, a human. 

The city is grand full of sweet times to be had, 

As you move through the days understand, be glad, 

You are granted time, to do what you love, 

To explore, with a sense of chance, to care for the unloved. 

Be kind and contrive, a life full of memories, 

Experiences survived, wherever you are led, 

Go with purpose and never forget you serve

Are blessed to be, and help others persevere. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Wrapped Refrain, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (1) – “The End of The Dock” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction #mentalhealth


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

——-

Credit: Jules Paige

——–

At the end of the dock, will she find —

Her own end? Will she find a kind —

Soul who wants to save a lost one?

There’s nothing new under the sun,

She doesn’t want to reach the dock’s ledge to jump —

Into water, to drown, heart ceasing its thumping. 

——–

No one thinks they could reach this point,

No one sees beyond their own point.

Blind to the sad, anxious hoping,

Someone will throw her a life rope.

If she knew how to swim, maybe she could fight back?

Maybe she could cling to life even when attacked?

—–

She’s no superheroe who’s bent,

On killing her nemesis.

Her demons struggle within hid,

She keeps them sealed under tight lid.

Support her, help her, light the shadow of the lost,

No one knows when she cries, it’s not easy to stop.

—–

Waves inside her — tempestuous

They’re crippling waves, regardless

Beyond her sadness, waking up,

Worse than ignorance unjust.

Your lack of thought, with no empathy — she’s pleading,

You don’t try to learn or listen, she keeps bleeding.

——-

She said,”Not to judge a book by —

It’s pretty cover, how it looks.”

She pleads, “Listen to Atticus,

Walk around in my skin,” pick —

Wisely how you react; she’s scared of descending,

At the end of the dock, desperate to not be.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Actor/ Actress, Beauty, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Free Verse, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

———

Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

——

As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

——

Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

—–

You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

—–

Credit: Laces and Tiaras

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: An Evil Chalice #amwriting #fiction #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

——

A Mixed Bag

—–

Timo and Erica had been stranded in the desert when their small plane crashed near Cairo. Sunburnt, exhausted, and thirsty, they were shocked to see an Oasis. 

“An Oasis Timo, we’re saved. There’s water and even a chalice to drink from,” Erica yelled. 

“You’re seeing things Erica, there’s no water and no chalice.” 

Really look, it’s only a few steps away — we’re here,” Erica said rushing forward to drink from a beautiful pale blue spring; however, whenever she tried to cup the spring water with her hands, it slide away. 

“It won’t let me drink and I’m half-dead,” she cried. 

Timo rubbed his eyes, finally believing the blue spring underneath a palm tree existed. A chalice made with a human skull sat in the middle of a stone alter as well. It gave him a feeling of dread. 

“Erica, to drink the water you need the chalice but don’t do it. There’s something terrifying and evil about this cup.” 

She turned to Timo, giving him a dark stare, “I’ll drink from the chalice if I want.” Erica strode to the alter, bowed mockingly and lifted the chalice to kiss the skull on the mouth.

Timo grimaced as she scooped it into the water and drank. It was an Indiana Jones’ movie come to life as Erica’s life force was sucked from her body which disintegrated until she was dust. 

He decide to try drinking from the spring without the chalice. Timo drank all the water he could then sat down beneath the large palm tree in the shade. He wondered why cupping his hands worked for him and not for poor Erica as he drifted asleep.

When he awoke, Timo heard the blessed noise of rescuers in the distance and hollered for help. To his amazement the Oasis had disappeared along with the chalice. 

He contemplated what he should say happened to Erica as no one would believe the truth. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Writing

Poem: Quatrains: “What Never Heals”


broken-heart
http://www.pinterest.com

“I know that’s what people say– you’ll get over it. I’d say it, too. But I know it’s not true. Oh, you’ll be happy again, never fear. But you won’t forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him.” 

― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

******

One day you promised me the pain,

Would eventually heal, I’d be —

Free from photographs and the shame.

While I am here, tears streaming.


Out of my mind, of my head,

Did you burn memories seething?

They never left my soul, they’re undead,

While I’m here, tears streaming.


You and her, it’s the cut deepest,

Never heals, it bleeds; you beaming

A baby’s breath; life makes me weak.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


At times, I’m over you completely,

Then, an image leaves me grieving.

Heart of the girl, a heart too sweet.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


Conversation wouldn’t aid, I —

Learn to sew up all broken seams.

Especially in sleep, where I cry,

While I’m here, tears streaming.


A few hours, a few days and —

I’ll be fine again —breathing.

Didn’t have much, nothing so grand.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


Let go, let me free, unburden me,

Stop snipping my wings, inhaling

The past’s ashes, it chokes me,

I was here, tears dried; now I’m free.


 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.