Three Line Tales: Poem – Lunes – “Once Impossible” #amwriting #poetry #3LineTales


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


Credit: Prince Akachi via Unsplash


Reaching, holding to unimaginable paths,

Burning past bridges,

Dawning pearls, celebrating life’s melodies.

*****

I’ll conquer once intangible steps —

With precise movements;

Bending, gliding into graceful poses.

*****

Tempo and rhythm crescendoing bold;

I’m blessed as —

Impossible dreams form opportunities lived.

*****


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Finish Off Fridays: Home #amwriting #flashfiction #finishofffridays 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting FOF.

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Credit: Lorraine – MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie
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“Clementine anxiously waited for the 5:40 out of the city, wondering if he would be on board.” It head been two-years since she’d seen Philip. He’d been sent out to fight the Nazis in France. She’d faithfully written to him but Philip hadn’t been able to send many letters back.

After the harrowing footage she’d seen of soldiers fighting on the beaches of Normandy, Clementine wondered if her Philip would be himself; how could he? The train arrived and she continued waiting. 

Seconds later Philip was holding her so tightly she couldn’t breath. He cried into her neck,”I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I had no doubt you would,” Clementine whispered back, stroking Philip’s hair as his tears dried.

It was almost as if he’d never been gone; in each other’s arms, they were both home.

——

Phillip Phillips – “Home” 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “A Nightmare of Ink” #amwriting #poetry #nightmares


Thank you to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the his week’s Photo Prompt chalkenge.

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Credit: Reylia.deviantart.com

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She holds the flowers teaming with a life force all their own, 

Knowing the ombré blue blossoms will escape; 

Flutter into the world carried on the wind, 

Pettles and fluffy white seeds blown across the land. 

Messengers of hope and artistry, a beauty undefinable. 

Her hands tightly grasp the stems, no thorns to prick errant fingers. 

She can’t let go, however, she she tries, 

Hands entrapped on rough stems holding too hard. 

So rigid are her hands, blood comes forth, 

The pressure of her grip too intense;

With great thought, he watches her, observes her reactions, 

She doesn’t understand why he’s hurting her; she needs help. 
She’s dressed in her navy dress and in life he loves it, 

In her dream, he picks at the fabric of her sleeve in disgust. 

Mumbling to himself, then struck with a thought, 

He’s found a thin fluted vase in blue to match her flowers. 

She doesn’t conprehend the symbolism or the reason, 

When ink he pours onto her flowers from the vase. 

He stains her hands until they appear black, 

The flowers are ruined and slicked with ink like oil. 

The streaming ink is everywhere, 

Her beloved smiles at her, he chucks her chin and winks, 

Takes the flowers and places them in the vase. 

The ink is all over her hands and arms;

Hers and his, and he’s laughing. 

Saying how difficult ink is to remove from one’s skin, 

So he cradles her face and he kisses her long, 

But then she awakes in her dream, 

To permenant ink stains all over her face and hands.

He smirks at her, walks away no care for the ink staining him. 

The moon gleams in the sky and it rains — buckets of tar black ink, 

Caressing her body, covering as sludge, dripping and spilling. 

What value is ink if she has no pen’s cartridge to put it in? 

She’s not able to use it to write. 

The world around is flooded by this precious commodity, 

And when she finally awakes for real, all is forgotten. 

Yet, the hands she holds up to the sunlight, 

Are stained dark black;

She’s tattood in the memory of a dream, 

Nightmares and reality never giving way to truth. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: A Discount #amwriting #flashfiction #Saturdaymix 


Thanks to Bastet from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. Today’s prompt is a story of the mystery genre using A BROKEN VASE, THREE DAISIES, A KNIFE, A MUSSED UP RUG, and A SHOPPING BAG. Sorry, couldn’t quite get this down to 150 words today. 

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Credit: GSK ’17

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A woman lay on the floor holding a shopping bag from Lululemon. Nearby her was what the detective assumed was the murder weapon, a broken vase which had held three Gerber daisies. 

The detective was confused inspecting the victim. It appeared the vase had finally killed her, but he discovered, she also had two stab wounds —older wounds. Beneath the woman was a mussed up rug and her head still bled. The two stab wounds, however, never bled enough to stain the rug. 

The detective discovered the woman’s husband in the den, his hands covered in blood. He didn’t even try to deny killing his wife saying he attempted three times to kill her; a knife stained in blood was found in the den. 

The husband explained, his wife had been sleeping with the neighbours son who attended university. Parker was a manager at a Lululemon store and sleeping with him, the bored housewife ensured herself a fifty-percent discount. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Friday Music Prompt:  Poem – A L’Arora – ” Obesssion Deludes” #amwriting #poetry #music 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Friday Music Prompt. Friday’s song was, “Waiting for Tonight” by Jennifer Lopez.

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“Waiting For Tonight” – Jennifer Lopez

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Credit: Art Nouveau VSCOcam, painting art on Instagram

——–
(Her View) 

Tonight’s the night he’s meeting me here later

Passions ignited, we’ve fires, need sating

All the desires of our time together, at last met

I’ll be shaking, moaning, chasing the stars

Caught in the moment, we’ll shatter as glass

Wrapped in your strong arms, I’ll have a blast. 

Waiting for tonight, excitement beaming

When you and I are lovers holding,  fast. 

——

Preening, applying makeup and shaking

Preparing for you, our first time creating. 

Ensuring our night’s perfect; it’ll end complete. 

Skin grazingcaressing, nothing sub-par

Lovers busy enjoying repast

Perfect lingerie, beneath a gown fast

Becoming a favourite; it’s perfect and tight

Rip it off, no need to be so classy

——

Waiting for tonight, our love embracing, 

Perfection between us, this night for our sake. 

I’ve planned it exactly, we’ll not overstep

Each moments vital, at the finale beseech. 

Give into our lust, marvel in love far —

Better than any you’ve ever had; here we’ll last, 

Until mornings stunning rays of light

I wait for him, he’s mine; trembling, my hands clasp.

——

(His View) 

Tonight it came, the nightmare couldn’t wait

She’s obssessed, unstable, any day she’ll break.

Better to stop, was never invested, not set

On staying with her; she’s a whale beached.

Though thin like a beanpole, not nice at all

Loathsome personality, running fast —

Driving passed; her obsession frightening

I was ‘nice’ once or twice, now there’s an impasse.  

——

Need freedom, her annoying voice I hate,

Can life be normal again? Not Hell made? 

Can I touch the one I love, and not regret

Bringing him into drama; twice I cheated, 

Boyfriend enraged; a dumb girl caused my fall. 

 Told her, “I like men most;” but left aghast —

She doesn’t care, spoiled girl; not smart, no insight, 

Traps into engagement; I’ll always pass

—–

© Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Poem – Day 10 –  Tanka – “Air Space” #amwriting #novembernotes #music #poetry


Today’s prompt song is “Air” by Rayvon Owen. 

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“Air” – Rayvon Owen

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Holding onto air, 

Nothing even their, it’s all–

Turning into air.

Can’t make something from nothing. 

Can’t take back time, do-over. 

—–

Your silhouette, 

It’s disappearing into —

Air so thin, can’t breath. 

All we have is a shattered–

Empty past, hanging by a thread. 

—–

We were never whole, 

The definition of good. 

We were always flawed, 

We never healed, didn’t —

Accept, when we saw the end. 

——

Splinters of glass hurt, 

When embedded in my skin, 

Pieces of the past, 

They’re a pain felt rawly, 

A pain that doesn’t improve.

——

The clock ticking by, 

You grasp for my form — I’m air, 

You can keep trying. 

You know your holding thin air, 

Us, we’re gone, invisible. 

——

Let the lights burn out, 

We can’t raise what’s  cold and dead. 

The past remains gone, 

Stop holding onto air, it —

Isn’t real; we’ve both dissolved.

——

Life’s not fair, I’m sure —

Later we’ll know we did right. 

Now we gasp for air, 

Let conversation cease, fade. 

Nothing to say, it’s been said. 

——

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016)All Rights Reserved. 


Poem: Tankas – “Nooked” 


http://www.yourtango.com
———-

You damaged me,

 Running into me that night.

Long ago laughing.

I embraced you on sight and, 

I wasn’t even nervous.

——

You cut into me, 

There’s no way from damage I —

Could recover now, 

Hit by navy eyes, 

Broken by your smile.

——

You made me bleed-out, 

As we became much closer, 

You were my steady–

Rock; my foundation solid, 

I believed in you, in us.

—–

You may as well have, 

Torn out my heart from my chest, 

Such trouble you gave, 

Sipping kisses from my lips, 

Arguing stopped; more blissing.

——

Your cure all for all, 

The sadness, the splintered soul, 

Holding me tight when, 

Love’s making halted a while,

Caring how you made me feel.

——-

Your worst crime is your, 

Deception; how I pass you —

And you see my eyes, 

Smarting still from being blind,

Brittle pieces tapped together.

—–

Stabbed by your bass voice, 

Whispering pleas, in dark.

Searching for the truth.

Finding only that you killed me, 

As you loved; the little death.

——

Smothering with fondness,

Never realizing love needs, 

Space to grow, flourish.

Became suffocating your, 

Word, your constant touch beloved.

—–

I died inside with, 

Prayers falling from lips you, 

Bit last torrid night.

If space could give me freedom, 

You’d agree, find the solution.

—–

Should we continue,

Though I know you love me dear, 

I’ll die fast smothered, 

Let us both relax in light.

You near, touching me, all times.

——

Let us both breathe from, 

The days we both couldn’t be, 

Five seconds apart, 

Let us be even closer,

Distance, draws a deeper love

——

Reflection as we, 

Seek skin and curves and muscles.

Beautiful to be close.

Never ever far away, 

Face in your neck; nooked near.

——

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Day 10 – NaPoWriMo – Abecedarian – An Alphabetical Poem – “The Dance of Life”


Always walking in the shadows I see your every stance;

Because I can’t help but watch you, as you move I glance.

Conversely, you are watching me as I strike a pose lipstick in hand;

Dedicated to your mission of figuring out the dance I move.

Entrancing as it is to watch each other move, we are figuring out more;

Finding out the steps we move to each other’s waltz, while keeping up a tempo;

Guiding our feet along one another’s, you move, I move, this is the dance.

Holding hands, you gently lead and take your steps so carefully;

If I should ever step on your feet, God forgive me because we are waltzing for life.

Just because you should stop, I would always wait for you;

Killing all movement is not a reason for you to let go, I will find your pace.

Laughing, uproariously as we linger at the parts we get especially close;

Movement with you is always a good time, moving with you I am consumed.

Never have I felt so alive and full of vibrancy and color, we are vapour;

Only the fastest couple can catch us as we move to this lover’s tune.

People will try and emulate us but each couple moves all their own way;

Quickly, and quietly we move, no dance once danced, can ever be the same.

Rest is required when I am out of breath, you know me like a plant knows sunlight;

Safely, you guard me while we sleep, and dream of jazz and tap, a little R&B.

Together we incorporate the dances that go beyond the waltz, for life moves beyond what’s known; 

Understanding your footwork, I match my own footwork to it;

Various movements cause us to spin and sometimes I feel a tad dizzy;

Waking as we move, dancing makes me feel weightless at times.

Xylophone’s play a little beat as we begin to slow our pace;

Zany business is this dance called life, but I’d only dance it with you.