Children/YA/Family, Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, OctPoWriMo, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Wrapped Refrain, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 4 – Wrapped Refrein (1) – “How Words and Poetry Hide” #poetry #amwriting   


The Day 4 OctPoWriMo theme is based on the prompt between the clouds and water and where poetry hides

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Credit: Patrick Fore via Unsplash
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You’ll not find it in cotton clouds,

Words don’t linger much to astound. 

You’ll not find poetry in socks, 

The drawer where secrets remain lost.

You’ll never find it in your locker, 

Or in any safe, secret box. 

The poetic muse she’s a tricky one and you’ll not —

Discover the secrets of words never caught. 

Sure, search my shoeboxes your —

To discover old love letters torn; 

As if their archaic paper had —

Poetic words; handwritten glad, 

Yet these lost words are so barren, 

You’ll not find poetry here glaring. 

You can wish hard for the words to flow and burn within, 

Spark inspiration, fulfill writing dreams, whims.   

——

As the words can be impossible, 

Leave you feeling epically lost. 

Choosing words is hard, improving —

Their form, their shape, tone soothing. 

Poetry hides, clashes wickedly, 

Now, I’ve no liking for such tricks. 

You can wish for words to form melodious speeches, 

But you’ll not find poetry it’s a falcon screeching. 

Gaze inside marshmallow white puffs, 

Clouds or into caverns dark, rough. 

You can explore the ocean’s depth,  

Or rest upon a beach breathless, 

While poetry’s playing games taunting, 

You’ll not discover the words lost. 

You’ll only find poetry in locals that are mystical —

Where sun, moon, clouds ethereal rise, poetry still sits. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Tale Weaver: Poem – Free Verse – “Super Women” #poetry #amwriting #taleweavers #dVerse 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weaver Prompt #135 in Princess Charming, a female heroine saving Prince Charming. Also, thanks to Grace of Poet’s Pub for hosting open link night. 

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Credit: Google for Reuse

——–

They say that, 

Real heros have capes, tights;

Uniforms and Bat lights. 
They shoot webs, 
Like spiders but from, 

Their palms. 

Flying and leaping, 

Over tall buildings. 

Their technology is —

Top of the line. 

They’re stoic, tough, 

Bantering, 

Male bonding and showmanship.

Strong shields guard,  

Robatic armour too. 

Glowing hearts of uranium, 

And flying suits. 

Hands pulsing lasors. 

With green hoods, 

Piercing arrows. 

Strength that’s incalculable

They’re ages old, 

Hundreds or Thousands. 

There human or from, 

Other dimensions, worlds. 

Becoming angry, 

Mean and green. 
Are blinded but powerful. 

Yet few will notice, 

Female superheroes, 

Their tough outer layers. 
They’ve a solid insistence, 

For the good of mankind. 

They sacrifice as a —

Black Widow or a mutant, 

Causing storms. 

The Mockingbird or a Scarlet Witch.

The Wolverine’s friend, Rogue. 

Women know, 

How being gentle, 

Is as mighty as Thor’s hammer. 

How sensitivity with honed, 

Physical skills, 

Has an authentic glory. 

Not understanding, 

Why men keep warring. 

Even though —

They know they must. 

So, they do too, 

Wonder Womans and —  

Super girls, 

Their skirts shorter. 

Slipping into —

Dark corners, 

To hide their tears;

Heroic tears 

As in a man’s world —

Most men don’t recognize, 

The first Wonder Woman, 

In their life, 

Gave birth to them. 

Nurtured them, 

Their superpowers hidden, 

To be the best — 

Moms. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Music Prompt #6: Poem – Free Verse – “Not My Defeat” #amwriting #musiccprompt #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Friday Music Prompt. This week’s song is “The Cave” by Mumford & Sons. 

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Credit: Rosemary Valadon

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“The Cave” – Mumford & Sons

—–

Your broken walk, your deceptive talk, 

You meat-eater, man-eater,

Frigid walls of your heart echo without beat. 

Cowardly harlot of bitter teeth,

Take all your bites, 

Leave the bones picked clean.

Starving the peasants,

In your shallow retreat. 

Malice, miscalculations, 

Your sins they visit your neighbours. 

The harvest is barren,

No fruit bursts eaten. 

Devouring the land,

You think no one knows,

But I know your shame is complete. 

And for some odd reason,

I pity the weak.

I pity your barren soul attacking, 

Then, retreating.

I’ll not be the swimmer,

Drowned by your weighted pulls, 

Clawing acrylic fingers. 

——-

So I will hold on to hope, 

No noose will scrap your delicate throat. 

I’ll find strength in pain, 

I will change my ways. 

My name will be no whisper,

You will not be my defeat. 

——-

My faults, my fears,

Pummeling my face.

But I am numb, 

I weather the war. 

The suffering you’ve caused, 

Tears droplets from heaven. 

You are not forgiven,

You cannot make me deaf, 

I see all your faults and all your fears,

You cannot mask wretchedness, 

Not change until it’s admitted. 

——-

So I will hold on hope, 

No noose will scrape your delicate throat.

I’ll find strength in pain,

I will change my ways.

My name will be no whisper,

You will not be my defeat. 

——

I’ll invade the darkest cave,

Find your hiding place. 

There’s no safety in your chambers, 

Come out walking on your hands.

Do you comprehend,

The nature of dependence

When you see the Creator’s plans

The makers hands? 

So much mightier than your, 

Waifish fingers wringing. 

Crawl and then arise,

I’ll ignore your Siren’s call,

Your voice a hollow sound,

Wounds my ears. 

Aches my heart, 

Heart of diamond rock.

Freedom’s a melody that calls to me,

A treble cliff in the sky, 

Floating music notes that speak of remorse. 

Your siren’s lure,

Has been escaped. 

The magician knows, 

Reality’s illusions. 

——

So I will hold on hope,

No noose will scrape your delicate throat.

I’ll find strength in pain,

I will change my ways. 

My name will be no whisper,

You will not be my defeat.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Music Prompt: Poem – English Sonnet – “Whisky in The Jar-O Please”  #amwriting #musicchallenge #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Friday’s Music Prompt: “Whiskey In the Jar” performed by Metallica. 

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Credit: GQ – Best Way to Drink Whiskey – http://www.pinterest.com

———-

Whiskey In The Jar” sung by Metallica 

———

Up the Cork and Kerry Mountains to find, 

Captain Farrell, money in vault to hide. 

Highway man with pistol and rapier, 

Sending him home for the devil to take. 

All his money in saddle bags hidden, 

To home for the highway man hard ridden. 

Said she would love me, never would she leave, 

Molly in bed; man there, now dead bleeding. 

Still to her chambers, go I, highway man, 

Drunk; money to mask and Molly to take. 

Captain Farrell riding up, shooting guns, 

Aiming both barrels; now in prison flung. 

Wish for Molly’s chambers to romp, yet she —

deceived; more, whiskey in the jar-O, please 🥃 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Day 18 – NaPoWriMo/Ato Z Challenge/Saturday Mix: Poem – Terzenelle – “Memory-Keeps” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #saturdaymix 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for the Saturday Mix challenge. I chose the three words: collector, approach, and anchor for the Abecedary challenge. The NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem that incorporates neologisms or a made-up word! Your neologisms could be portmanteaus (basically, a word made from combining two existing words, like “motel” coming from “motor” and “hotel”) or they could be words invented entirely for their sound. Probably the most famous example of a poem incorporating neologisms is Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky, but neologisms don’t have to be funny or used in the service of humor.” For A to Z Challenge the letter P will be used for the GoodRead’s quote.

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Credit: Hieu Photography – Westminster, CA, USA

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“When it comes to memories, the good and the bad never balance.” ― Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care

——

What do you memory-keep, in hiding? 

Is it shot glasses or dream-chains?

What do you memory-keep in hiding? 

Mind-shells, collected in the ocean claimed? 

Is it silver spoons, photographs?

Is it shot glasses or dream-chains? 

Do you keep ticket stubs, find-maps? 

Do you keep a journal or postcards?

Is it silver spoons or photographs

Do you approach life, to be a live-hard?

What objects hold your memories dear? 

Do you keep a journal or postcards? 

Do you buy rings, anchoring thoughts clear? 

Or do you have a photographic mind?

What objects hold your memories dear?

Do you think of those who’ve been kindlings

What do you memory-keep in hiding? 

Or do you have a photographic mind? 

What do you memory-keep in hiding? 

________


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Day 1 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – Kay Ryan – “The Big Bad Wolf” #amwriting #napowrimo #poetry #quotes #AtoZchallenge #2017




Today’s National Poetry Writing Challenge is to write a poem in the style of a famous American poet named Kay Ryan. She writes poetry with “short, tight lines, rhymes interwoven throughout, maybe an animal or two, and, if you can manage to stuff it in, a sharp little philosophical conclusion,” and today’s prompt is to write a poem like her. See an example of her poetry in the above link.

Also here is my A to Z Challenge at the very last minute yes, I know. A book quote that matches the poem everyday according to the author’s name alphabetically. 

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Credit: http://www.pinterest.com


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You are the stories and incidents that you never tell to anyone. You are the thoughts that you get while standing under the shower. You are those memories that won’t lets you sleep at night peacefully. You are those words that you will never say while speaking with someone. You are those scars that you always hide from everyone. You are those little secrets that you will never let the world know. You are everything that you hide under the identity that you call the real you.”― Akshay Vasu

————

The crux of,

The problems,

The issues,

Tearful tissues;

The wishes,

Dead fishes,

Expecting to —

Much; life is —

A state of flux,

Waiting to,

Push you,

Into the great,

Unknown; where we’re

Gliding no longer.

Hiding behind,

Pictures of,

Parrots so,

Bright we,

Blend in.

Obscurity,

Fashions a —

Camaflouge.

No passion,

Distracted by,

Parrots squawking.

Beyond that,

We’re talking.

They are dead;

Birds who were,

Mimicking,

What we’re trying,

To forget.

Such as wolves,

Who are hidden,

Beneath a sheep’s

Grating wool;

Knowing first,

The value of,

Wool and —

The silence,

Of peace,

Seeping into,

Weakened bones;

Where we don’t

Have to be sheep,

Are tranquil as

The big bad,

Wolf puffing.

———

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, Books, Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Collage Prompt: Poem – Rictameter – “Books and Cherries” #amwriting #poetry #collage


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Collage Prompt.


Collage MLMM
Credit: Shawn Van Deale the woman on the left: Johnny Palacois the woman/aloe vera plant on the right.

Humming,

As the bird who’s —

Thrumming in the air,

Struggling for each flutter so

Rapid; so utterly fast it’s blurring.

My wings in flight are haze to you,

You don’t see underneath;

Desperation,

Humming.

——

Darkness,

Arising in —

My stomach, spiraling,

To the surface out of my —

Broken soul that I mend in those worlds found,

In each and every story, novels —

Ending hiding; I’m no —

Crab in my shell’s —

Darkness.

——-

In dreams,

I writhe, I twist,

Tales of old and new —

Follow me when enters Sandman,

To calm adventures stripping me of sleep.

But just as I live in my books,

I live in nightmarish —

Tales at midnight,

In dreams.

——-

Awake,

Oh, sheltered one.

Let the black smoke rise, cleanse

Your body from your shattered self,

Set free your mind, let your spirit live,

Life’s the greatest adventure,

Stories read fill gaps;

Burst forth spirit,

Awake.

———

Cherries,

You’re sexy  as,

Women who curl cherry —

Stems into knots with skillful tongues.

Unafraid to bare your body,

When it’s appreciated.

With love, you expose your —

Soul; All for ripe

Cherries.

—-

As books,

Sweet red cherries,

From the Okanagan,

A valley of delicacies.

Driving through B.C. in summer, you —

Stop at every fruit stand,

Selling juicy fruit — truths;

Cherries savored,

As books.

—–

Smokescreen,

Floats up swirls as —

Papal smoke; the blackness,

Forgiven reading thousands

Of tales, every genre, every language.

Devouring ‘reads’ as cherries,

Demons gone; living with —

Wisdom taught, no —

Smokescreen.

——

Light’s glow,

In each tale read.

Nourishes souls; keeps me —

Aching to learn, wanting to know,

Of worlds, fantastic characters —

With hubris, compelling charm.

While some characters are —

Searching hard for,

Light’s glow.

—–

Writing,

It filled holes,

Torn in souls, in hearts wrecked,

The reader became author,

Discovering within her fingers lies a —

Haven, a solace of peace, rest;

Because the story grows —

In her, exposing —

Writing.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

100 Word Wednesdays, Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: The Cost #amwriting #flashfiction #crime #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday.

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Credit: Toa Heftiba

—–

I’m seventeen and I wish I wasn’t old enough to understand what was happening through the trees.

There were five men laughing around a garbage can bonfire. The worst part was the two women crying and begging the men to stop as each man took turns with the women, raping them.

I knew I couldn’t intervene. I felt helpless but then I remembered my smartphone in my pocket. It had a camera with many megapixels and zoom.

Above the pandemonium no one heard me snap as many pictures as I could. I walked back to my house from the ravine and I called the police; they said I was a hero after.

The problem is some things in life you can’t unsee.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

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Photo Challenge: Poem – Quatrains – “Tale of The Floating Bride” #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to NEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge prompt. 

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Credit: Zhangjinga.com

—–

Enchanting child in slumber keep, 

Red hair surrounds you as you sleep. 

I wait for you to wake from your dreams, 

No longer a porcelain doll preened. 

*****

A wedding gown white lace so frothy, 

Mother hoped your match was lofty.

That you’d found your life partner, 

Your prince, your man, for life to start.

*****

But day by day you grew sad, 

When pressed with his kisses ran. 

Empty feeling inside you grew, 

Like a butterfly away flew.

*****

Mischievous child, pain grew, 

His fist at your face straight-on flew. 

Hiding the bruises with powder,

Not even concealer shrouds

*****

Pride vital to you, tiny doll, 
Escaped; no one to catch your fall.
Fly in dreams with delicate wings, 

Winter ends, it’s soon your spring. 

*****

Gather your courage –call it off;

Don’t marry him, don’t be soft.

In front of the crowd, show each cut, 

Let them see bruises, you must. 

*****

So they know an abuser, 

Isn’t good enough, he’s a loser. 

He broke your velvet wings, 

Your sanity held by strings. 

*****

But it was too late even then, 

The lake too close; so your end.

Now you float, butterfly who swims, 

Eternity of light your win. 

*****

We tried to save a doll of glass, 

But on death she shattered, passed. 

Down below the water’s dark depth,

She’s tranquil, free; although, she leapt. 

*****

Mind too distorted, destroyed, 

Lover’s hands threw her like a toy.

World tough; his madness changed them both, 

In Heaven she smiles free to float. 

*****

He mourns her death each day, each drink, 

Pretty soon his rage him too sinks. 

Accidents happen to the unaware, 

She pulled him in, drowned his despair. 

—– 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Sunday Photo Fiction: Poetry – Octain Refrain – “Three Lights” #amwritng #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

A night deep, the black ink deftly hiding, 

Criminals, the lost, truly evil find. 

Misdeeds better performed where every sound —

Is a nightmare calling, no justice found. 

Unrevealed secrets proffered, ungrounded, 

Realization of innocents expounding

Out here ‘neath stars, curse of night, hurt resides. 

Three light in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black ’round, 

Presence of luminescence, rats scatter . 

Lights are strong, don’t flicker, they matter. 

Bring attention to the wounded, those drowned

All their sorrows piling-up —burdens

Shine your light thrice, save them for certain. 

Demonstrate there’s another way clattering

Sing songs of broken hearts; at last they’re found. 

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round.

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round.

Though we may fear darkness, here there’s no need, 

As long as there’s light radiant, just heed. 

Never let your fears overcome, light resounds, 

Washes out creepersshadows; it centres.  

Gives hope for tomorrow, transformed life mends

Malevolence abounds, stay grounded

Light always wins —brilliance all precedes. 

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.