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#NovemberNotes Day 2: Poem – Free Verse – “Of Abuse” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


For November Notes Day 2 the song is “New Rules” by Dua Lipa. I’m combining this prompt with Björn from #dVerse Peet’s Pub on defining a monster you fear. 
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Credit: Miranda Whiperfurth via Unsplash
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Dua Lipa – “New Rules”

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I saw him walk, 

Saw him fire randomly. 

Searchimg for specific victims, 

Fear was palpable, hanging heavy —

In the sunlit air, deceptive for the scent of blood. 

Pungent, stinging my lungs, 

As if breathing in a mustard gas. 

No one should ever have to know —

Deaths putrid scent. 

See it pooling, 

From a loved one or friend. 

No one should have to see, 

How medicine cannot always heal; 
By knowledge or by quickness. 

That the scariest monsters are the ones, 
Seemingly kind, normal, 

Even attractive humans. 

Those who cannot function, 

Losing control by illness, 

Or by self-indoctrination. 

Breaking to pieces, 

Flipping their humanity switch. 

Or lost in a terrifying nightmare, 

Blurring into their edges.

They’ve nothing soft left, 

No heart remaining, 

In cold blood or insanity. 

He may have been a gun man, 

Or perhaps, he was a manipulator? 

A lesser monster whose pain, 

Transformed into rage. 

A monster stealing peace of mind, 

Security and safety. 

Through vile methods. 

He’s the twenty phone calls your ignoring, 

Sleeping with him anyways, 
Just so he’ll go away. 

Because you don’t feel anything, 

Cringing at his touch. 

Under him it’s all to clear,

Your never over him; 

Until you don’t let him return ever. 

But he enjoys the tatters,

While regret knots in your stomach, 

Grows agonizing when he —

Doesn’t hear all your “No’s” and “Stops.”

But you stay with him, 

You let him believe, 

Because has the power to harm, 

A craziness in his eyes. 

Different bullets than the gunmen, 
Bullets just the same. 

Ban the ballots, the gunpowder, 

Save those trapped, 

By gun toting diehards,

And fools who take advantage —

Wielding obsession and abuse. 

—-


—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Bop - 6 lines, refrain, 8 lines, refrain, 6 lines, refrain, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, OctPoWriMo, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo 28/Sunday Writing Prompts: Poem – Bop – “What Release’s Pain” #amwriting #poetry


For OctPoWriMo 28 I can’t get onto the website at the moment. Perhaps it’s because I am so far behind? Instead, I’ll just be using the Sunday Writing Prompt of Scribblers Dip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie based on fake band names including: Squirrel Nut Zippers, GoGo Penguins, Abstract Evil Barbie, Bimbo Toolshed, The Pineapples from the Dawn of Time, Reign of Frogs, Devil with Cheese, Stop Calling Me Frank, Loudmouth kitten, and Kissyfoot. 

Credit: Yvette de Wit via Unsplash

When I met him, there was no telling of taste, 

In horrible music he thought was just great. 

I went with him to GoGoPenguin’s shows, 

Cringing as he sang to Hard Metal prose.  

Lyrics made my insides squirm hearing hate, 

He sang with angry fervor berating

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

At Abstract Evil Barbie I questioned, 

How ‘Barbie’ was perverse, lyrics lessened —

Her value as a child’s toy, words fearful — 

Of hurt and frustration sounding eerie

He loved each band, Bimbo Toolshed’s screaming, 

Destroying the whole world in pain keening. 

Beneath his clever smile he revealed his —

Desire to get back at life with derision

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

Reign of the Frogs made me shiver as they sang, 

Maliciously damning all those they harangued

I asked him why we couldn’t listen to words —

That were softer, happier, encouraging. 

But to him, Stop Calling Me Frank’s words curt

Released the devil inside him stopped his hurt. 

There’s never any accounting for taste. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 



Blitz poem - 48 Lines, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, OctPoWriMo, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 7/Tale Weavers: Poem – Blitz – “Still So Unreal” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry 


Today’s OctPoWriMo theme is going to far or crossing the line. I’m combining this prompt with  Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Taleweavers prompt on rejection. 

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——

Unnumb the pain, make me feel

Unnumb the pain it’s so unreal

Unreal enough that it’s too real

Unreal enough that hurts all the more

More was hurtful, you crossing lines

More was insidious and harmful 

Harmful, you were supposed to protect

Harmful because my wounds are jagged 

Jagged life, you’ve blessed me with 

Jagged life, do you know how I feel? 

Feel, do you feel at all? Have empathy? 

Feel, is your body as numb as mine? 

Mine is aching and empty

Mine has a hole in my stomach

Stomaching your betrayal

Stomaching your cruelty 

Cruelty that lingers and nips

Cruelty that cannot be blocked out

Out of my mind, my body 

Out of my heart, my soul 

Soulless, why’d you have to be this way? 

Soulless, saw your vacant eyes and knew all along 

Along, I go away from you, 

Along I go with opportunities 

Opportunities to thrive and learn

Opportunities to be a better person 

Person who loves

Person who forgets

Forgets your terrible denial, rejection

Forgets that I crossed the line 

Lines demarcated that said don’t ask for more, 

Line demarcated that brought up your walls

Walls, fortified structures 

Walls, yours, aren’t my fault

Fault lies with us both

Faults, we’re all of of us flawed 

Flawed as together we had too many 

Flawed as the night without stars

Stars as your eyes that drew me in 

Stars going off with your velvet touch

Touch, the experience not forgotten

Touch, yours is but a memory

Memory, nostalgia not reality 

Memory of the best times and the worst

Worst memories at the end

Worst memories haunt me still

Still I’ve moved on and I’m happy

Still I’ve found a way to love life

Life has no garuntees, but I’m okay 

Happy, today, that word describes me well

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Event, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, OctPoWriMo, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 2 – Poem: Free Verse – “Of Terror & The Dying” #amwriting #poetry #yegstrong #vegasshooting 


Welcome to OctPoWrMo Day 2 . I’ll be going back to Day 1. But today’s prompt was writing what we must. And this is what resulted, sorry to begin with the topic isn’t light. 

It’s inspired by two events the Las Vegas Shooting and terrorist events in Alberta, Canada. 

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Credit: Ian Dooley via Unsplash
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I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot. 

I wish you didn’t feel the need, 

To take others with you to the grave. 

I wish you knew your pain, 

Was a problem that could’ve been helped, 

If wish you had only asked. 

I wish you weren’t indoctrinated

That morals halted your, 

Urge to kill and wound hundreds. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

I wish that you’d stopped yourself. 

Thought of the consequences, 

I wish you’d had empathy. 

Realized everyone feels pain as you did, 

That all people have things in their life, 

That wound and maim them, 

Throughout life’s winding road; 

We all feel internal pain, brokenness sometimes. 

But others chose better coping methods, 

Not to go about their wicked way, 

Taking global humanity to their knees. 

*****
I wish you didn’t kill, 

I wish you didn’t shoot. 

I wish you didn’t choose chaos, 

That you chose understanding —

Not violence. 

I wish you knew all the family’s hurting, 

How your pain became more than your victims, 

More than the wounded and the dead. 

I wish you knew how you maimed everyone —

On scene, through the online world. 

How guns are so destructive, 

When they’re attained so easily to murder. 

That blood flows, when gunshot wounds, 

Cause suffering. 

That men and women are lying dead, 

Having lost their lives too early. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

Because other people will emulate you. 

They will think your selfish choice, 

Is the right path for them too. 

I hate that you had to take, 

So many others with you. 

That you didn’t comprehend, 

The sanctity of life. 

It’s ever so valuable, beyond twisted beliefs, 

Your inner turmoil — whatever it was, 

More than the false reasons, 

You believed gave your actions merit.  

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you would shoot, 

I wish a place of celebration, 

A place of respite and vacation, 

Did not become a mass murdering location; 

But it did, all because of you. 

I hate that you can’t hear, 

The moans of the people you hurt. 

That you can’t look them in the eye, 

And see the their tears, their horror. 

I hate that you don’t see, 

Children who’ve lost parents. 

I hate that you did not realize, 

Your actions harmed and injured many. 

It makes me sick that you were okay, 

With this awful outcome, 

Of being a grim reaper. 

I hate that you probably, 

Wouldn’t have cared, 

Even if your cowardly death, 

Hadn’t worked. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill,

I wish you wouldn’t shoot. 

That the pandemonium and suffering, 

Your victims felt and discovered, 

Is something you didn’t experience on earth. 

I’m so angry that men like you, 

Choose weapons too available, to harm others. 

I’m so angry you ruined so many lives, 

I’m so angry you made a place, 

That once felt safe, 

Into a terrifying war zone. 

I’m so angry that the country, 

You caused your mayhem in, 

Has far too many gun related deaths. 

And I don’t know how to stop men like you, 

How a right to bear arms, 

Oversteps someone else’s right to live,

I can’t comprehend; 

But I heard the screams, the peppering of bullets, 

And it makes me want to cry. 

So upset you were okay with, 

The consequences of a heartless choice. 

That your inner demons, 

Got the best of you, 

In such a malevolent way.  

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t stab. 

I watched a terrorist ram a policemen’s car, 

Saw the policeman soar into the air, 

But he hadn’t any wings, 

For he was merely human. 

I watched you stab him too many times, 

And he was only doing his job. 

While another mad man, 

Ran down others. 

Tried to hurt them too.

And I wish you wouldn’t slice, 

Let blood trickle and flow. 

I wish you wouldn’t use a truck, 

As a weapon to injure, cause pain. 

But I cannot see into your mind, 

And I don’t know that anyone, 

Could have changed all your minds.

All I know is you all didn’t listen, 

To the conscience inside your head. 

All I know is your method of damage, 

Was a choice to do evil. 

*****

I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

That you’d dealt with your own turmoil, 

In a vastly improved method. 

I know that many people think, 

All people are generally good. 

But few realize being a good is a choice;

We’re not made that way, 

We learn to be good people. 

And too many choose to twist what’s good. 

And commit acts that are selfish and evil.

To many acts of terror, 

By lone men or terrorists. 

Too many opportunities, 

With access to weapons, 

Knives and guns, 

Defend your family as you must, 

But make it harder, 

So random men can’t do their evil,

Wound hundreds with bullets, 

In blood drenched mass murder. 

I wish you wouldn’t choose to kill, 

So we don’t hear the screams, the suffering, the dying, 

So the images don’t haunt us. 

Because it’s sickening that ever day people, 

Who appear like me you and me, 

Have a monster residing within them, 

Have made the choice to murder.

*****
I wish they wouldn’t kill, 

I wish they wouldn’t shoot, 

But I can’t see what was inside their minds. 

Because they looked like everyone else, 

Not a demon, a Lord Voldemort, or a Freddy Kruger. 

All I can send is my prayers to the broken, 

Those mourning and terrified. 

All I know is that some people choose, 

To be good people, 

And I have faith in God and them. 

All I know is that in the end, 

God will give every person justice, 

Justice that is eternal and right. 

And that someday on earth, 

We must learn to forgive

Not to become monsters, 

So we don’t commit terrifying evil too. 

*****

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved 

Current Events, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Works Published, Writing

Published Poem: Free Verse – Spillwords.com – “I’ll Fly Away, Oh, Glory” #published #audio #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to the ever gracious http://www.spillwords.com for publishing my new poem called “I’ll Fly Away, Oh, Glory.” The chorus lines are borrowed from the song “Fly Away” for by Gillian Welch and sung by Allison Kraus on the Oh Brother, Where Art Though? movie soundtrack. It’s an awesome movie too! 

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Credit: Fernando Brasil via Unsplash

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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.

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Credit: J. Hardy Carroll
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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. 

Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, History, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Synchronicity Poetry - 8,8,2, -- surprise ending last 2 stanzas, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Synchronicity – “Seventeen at Heart” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix 


Thank you to Teresa from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for holding last week’s Saturday Mix. The prompt topic is to use the number seventeen in someway. 

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Credit: Eden Hills

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When I was seventeen years old, 

A wise man told me to enjoy, 

Be free. 

——-

When I was seventeen I saw, 

Poverty in Mexico such —

Suffering. 

———

A cycle that can’t be undone, 

Without a better government, 

Wages raised. 

——-

Without education for all, 

Who seek to improve their lives torn, 

Hoping. 

——

When I was seventeen I saw, 

Stray dogs wandering without homes, 

Hungry. 

——-

The children starved, the animals, 

Begged for lefover scraps, they’re both, 

Love starved. 

——–

When I was seventeen met, 

Old frenemies and rebonded, 

New times. 

——-

When I was seventeen turned, 

Eighteen in July still felt, 

A child. 

——–

At eighteen, I felt seventeen, 

At twenty two I felt the same, 

Not grown. 

——-

Then I learned it’s your outside that, 

Changes, age is mythology, 

There are —

———

Times in your life where the world, 

Makes you hurt, learn, dissemble, 

Go on. 

——

——-

Hope’s there for all who choose to be, 

Seventeen at heart forever, 

Means strength, 

——–

Means trivialities, meaningless, 

Faith is a laturn, guides footsteps, 

In dark. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Rondeau - aaabba, aabR, aabbaR, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday’s Hunt: Poem – Rondeau – “Midnight Prayers” #amwriting #poetry #saturdayshunt


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix and prompting us to personify an emotion. I can’t quite identify this one, but I’ll try. 

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Credit: Edith Hill

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Midnight prayers, bitter sweet, such raw aches burn, 

Reconcile the words, reasons my heart hurts.  

Midnight prayers, pleading for courage, concerns —

Of broken-hearted lonileness which —

Cannot be hidden behind work and lists, 

Keep yourself busy, exhaustion, pleads yearn —

To lay back and rest, a moment to breathe, 

Finding being busy deeply deceives. 

Just one more moment, I can laugh and dream; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

Here my desires, my concerns, my needs,  

Teach me to follow, in pain believe. 

There has to be more to life than alone, 

More than suffering, tears and sleepless moans. 

There’s a silver lining in ripped seams; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Free Verse, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Published Work, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Works Published, Writing

Published by HerHeartPoetry – Italian Sonnet: “A Matter of Heart” / Free Verse: “Luna’s Call” #amwriting #poetry 


Goodmorning! Hope you are all well! I’m sharing a couple of poetry pieces published on Instagram @herheartpoetry from  http://www.herheartpoetry.com. As many poetry magazines, they have various topics each month/submission period. 

This first poem was published months ago and the theme was on ‘love/relationships,’ and the second poem was published this past week on the theme, ‘Howl at the Moon.’ 

For anyone interested, this is another awesome place to have your poetry published. You do, however, need to create a square picture with some app on your phone/tablet that edits photos, from a photo of your poem on MS Office or in someway, creatively create an Instagram poem that is square 🙂 

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Credit: Amanda M. Eifert – First Published by HerHeartPoetry.com on Instagram @herheartpoetry

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Credit: Amanda M. Eifert – First Published by HerHeartPoetry.com on Instagram @HerHeartPoetry

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Fiction – Alice and the Tea Cup #amwriting #fiction #photochallenge 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo Challenge. 

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Credit: Source Unknown

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Wonderland had been a delight for Alice. It always was, but she expected that when she returned to the real world, she would come back as herself — her correct size.  

Instead, Alice stepped through the looking glass as her regular 5’7″ height and found herself the size of one her mothers miniature ornamental figurines. Moreover, when she had taken a few steps she found herself falling from a tremedous height before making a great splash in what she discovered was a tepid cup of green tea. 

She didn’t recognize the face of the sullen man who was drinking from her mother’s rose china teacups. His hands surrounded the cup Alice was in and he hadn’t even realized when she landed in his tea, sloshing it all over his hands. 

Alice was soaked and feeling warm, the tea wasn’t as tepid as she thought. The man sighed and she heard her mother’s booming voice talking to the man about some cause she was recruiting donations for.

She screamed shrilly as the man lifted the cup to his mouth, struggling in the water and flailing her tiny arms. The man didn’t see Alice and as she continued screaming, the cup moved closer to the man’s mouth. As tea surrounded Alice covering her head, she had no choice but to bite the man’s lip. She sunk her teeth into his flesh, biting as viciously as she could with her minature teeth. 

The man gasped, suddenly in pain. Blood dripped from his lip where Alice had bit him. The tea and teacup flew out of his hand in surprise and Alice was flung out into the living room landing beside her mother on the couch. 

Her mother gazed at Alice with wide blue eyes before gently stroking Alice’s soaking body with her pinky finger. 

“Alice?” she asked, before fainting on the couch. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.