#OctPoWriMo Day 25 – Poem – Free Verse – “The Door Swings Both Ways” #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 25 the prompt is “the door goes both ways.”


Credit: Vibhav Satam via Unsplash.


The door swings both ways,

I can’t discern its turn;

Swoosh of air inviting,

The click of quiet closure;

Or, slammed with a clammer.

Turn of the key, of the screw —

As locks clink, slip into place.

The door swings both ways,

No one determines, what each door opening or closure means.

We never know,

That’s the problem.

One opens,

Another closes.

We bang on a door we were fervent to beg for.

We tilt our heads in wonder,

When another doorway path leads us yonder.

Into carmine fields of poppies,

Into the jingling of sleighs.

A whisper from a child,

Who bids us come this way;

That we’ve been missing a whole world,

And our eyes have finally

seen,

Cracked open, no longer flown wide-shut.

An azure-blue of ascending staircases with tired feet;

To more perilous doorways,

Some forever locked,

Some opened a sliver, as a test.

Some we must break down,

As with wild axes, we fight for another breath.

More doorways,

But oh how thankful we are,

That some of the deadliest doorways are caverns left for dead.

The door swings both ways.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Sunday Photo Fiction: ‘All Hope Abandon Ye Who Enter Here’ #amwriting #flashfiction #Dante #TheInferno


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

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“THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of Power divine, Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.” –  The Divine Comedy, The Inferno (Canto III. Lines 1 -9). 

——-

“Abandon all hope? How can this be right?  I didn’t kill anyone and I was no pervert. I stood for my political office. I did what I had to do,” Ker said. 

“How do you know it was the right cause?” 

“Well, I just do.”

“What about those you hurt along the way? Your wife, Meredith, who now rests in Heaven’s fold? You’re here at the gates of Hell at the river Acheron for a reason,” the wise Charon told Ker. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt her, to use her to get where I needed to go. I loved her, but I didn’t mean to leave her. I prayed and I apologized. I admitted my sins to a priest in confession. Yet, here I am in Hell at the Traitors’ Gate, why here?”

Charon sighed and whisked the regretful Ker’s soul into the boat. “I wonder Ker, where Midas will send you? Will you be in the eighth circle as a corrupt politician or the ninth circle for being a traitor to your wife, to your family? Will you spend eternity ‘a Judas?'”

Ker shook his head, “This is nothing but a dream. Dante’s Inferno does not exist. I won’t abandon hope, I won’t. Meredith is not dead and I’m not really here.”

“But you did stop hoping and you’re a traitor so now you face the Traitors’ Gates. You are one of them and that’s why this gate is where you will enter into the ninth circle of Hell.”

“What?! I’m so sorry, I mean it. I repent. I’ll do better and change my ways. Tell me this is just a dream, let me have another chance.”

Charon chuckled and shook his head wearily.”It seems someone up high is fighting for your soul, Ker, I don’t why because your soul is pitch black. Yet, you will have another chance. Remember you won’t get another.”

—–

Ker awakes suddenly whispering pleading prayers in words of Latin and Ancient Greek. He doesn’t know why he understands these prayers to God, but he does. Ker attempts to pick up his smartphone nearby but feels terrible pain whenever he moves. 

Then, his beautiful Meredith walks in the hospital room door. “Meredith? I thought you were dead. That you would never speak to me again. I thought you were in Heaven and I was in Hell, I dreamt it.”

Meredith smiled at Ker with love despite how he had treated her recently: “Who do you think asked God to give you a second chance? I gave up eternity for a later time, hoping you will be there with when I return. Now you must fulfill your promises made in front of Charon.”

“So, can you change, Ker? Can you stop being a traitor and fight for ‘the good’ in this world? Can you fight for me, for us, for our family?” Meredith asked. 

Ker was just grateful to be alive. He swore to do better in life, in love, and he did. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers: Poem – Free Verse – “Without You” #taleweavers #poetry #amwriting


Last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt was to use the code pictured below, in telling a story. Thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

 

——

Your garbled words, they don’t make sense,

They were the last words you wrote, then;

You disappeared, no trace of whence,

You’d return, so explain again,

Why you left me alone heart so rent? 

Why you can’t explain our past tense?

You’re not weak, but through aged lense,

Disease stole my gentlemen.

You were young, full of life intense;

With passion for dreams, no pretense.

The man you were is gone; he’s distant,

Lost, his last thoughts code absurd.

I don’t understand, things he heard,

Why he aged quickly; ill concerned,

For someone who used direct words.

Now your life is finite, deterred.

You aren’t who I knew, you’re gone, turned;

Alzheimer’s stole you — who you were,

I’m the woman left behind blurred;

A ghost — now we’re both unheard.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Not To Touch #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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A Mixed Bag

——-

I’m reminded of a science experiment my class did in grade five. We used chalk to grow crystals on them. The exact process I don’t remember, but I do recall feeling proud upon removing a piece of chalk from my container and finding various coloured crystals on it. 

I thought back to this day when I saw the trees begin to glitter with crystals. It had been extremely cold and blizzardy, so we all assumed it was naturally, the accumulation of ice crystals. But then the trees became covered in crystals of all colours.

 There were bright lavender crystals and cyan blue crystals. There were even bubble gum pink crystals. Everyone thought this was the most beautiful and unique oddity. Journalists came from every city across the country, to report on this rarity for themselves. 

Then, scientists in the area starting testing the crystals and while they were lovely on the trees, the were not so lovely attached to your skin. They crystals once fastened, would not unfasten from one’s skin until a person was completely covered in them. Until their body was frozen, stiff, and dead as the trees which never budded in spring. 

Our town was nearly deserted by the time the military took over. The colourful forest was burned to the ground. 

The most heart breaking aspect for everyone was that the small children were the first to touch the trees. They had the smallest bodies and didn’t last long. I think it’s the reason so many people started over, the unbearable misery they left behind. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Kyrielle “Breath Again.”


wew.jyoti7208.wordpress.com

—–
Here I was beginning again,

To breath and hurt and want more rain,

The kind that washes away everything,

Rain as the tears you dry and wring,

—–

Out of hankerchiefs and feel.

Life is sordid, wish I could heal.

And taste a future in my tears.

Hidden within saltwater, my fears.

—–

Have you gone away, will you seek,

Me out now, you’re busy all week,

Days roll by, we grow apart, breathe. . .

Each day you’re gone, my hope it leaves.

—–

Life feels empty without the scene, 

I had of you and me and I lean,

On the weeks work never complete.

Constant activity, replete.

—–

Where are kisses that burn like fire,

Where are moments found of fierce desire,

Waking each morning to an empty,

Bed, where you and I lay gently.

—-

Oh for the feelings of fingers,

Kneading stress out of my neck, please linger.

Caste kisses on my skin, trails you make.

While I’m asleep, smiles I awake.

______

Who said you can’t eat cake in bed,

Chocolate icing, endorphins fed.

And smear some on your lips so soft,

With perseverance lick it off.

—–

And dull afternoons turn to skin,

So near and full of many sins.

I won’t tell your secrets if you keep.

Your promise to be with me, leap. 

—–

Where bodies tangle and embrace,

There is a connection of grace.

And lips swollen with kisses.

Your heart beats and I have a wish. 

—–

To be closer still and find what’s true,

Close as lips upon your chest grew,

To your fingers and their tight grasp, 

Digits in my hair, pull — I gasp. 

—–

You and me we are partners in,

This game of life, with cheerful grins.

Our comings and goings,

Together we are, only knowing. 

______

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

On Mental Illness and the Latest


I feel like I am moving through life at the pace of a snail. I think of all the things everybody is accomplishing and all the events happening with the beginning of school and busier times at work and I feel frustrated that I am not a part of that world. Or, I am only part of that world to such a minute degree. I use to love that world it filled me with exhilaration and I crammed every minute of it full that I could with people and events to go to. I was at the cusp of life and beginning to accomplish things that I had always dreamed I could accomplish, when I fell ill. You all know ( or most of you know) that story and my battle with mental illness and chronic fatigue.

This battle has forced me to slow down to a great degree. I look and see everyone else so busy and aware of so much around them that I feel lost. I try to get out but it’s not the same having goals now as it is having a job. I’m constantly reminded of that by the “why are you so tired” when people arrive home after a challenging day. As if, I can help the fact that I don’t work and can’t be around people all day accomplishing something and giving back to society. It doesn’t make my time any less valid or useful. But I do try to stay involved with the world to pick up little facts here and there and be aware of what’s going on in the news and in people’s lives. I’m not always able to listen as long as I like but I try to be on the same page as other people. But it’s difficult because explaining how much rest I need or that I am worn out after a couple of hours is frustrating for me and my friends and family.

Sometimes, I just need to be alone. I crave that time when the only noise I hear is the TV or the music from my Ipad. I like the soothing atmosphere I feel when people aren’t up and about doing everything around you, and I can just read my book or write what I need to write. I have always needed this alone time even when I was well but these days I just find I need more of it.

But frustratingly, I hate this alone time as much as I need it. I want to be where things are happening, where people are talking, and I want to be involved in life, not merely an observer. And it drives me crazy how when I finally get to be around people how irritated I feel lately. Irritated because they talk and talk about themselves and although I’m glad to listen, I don’t feel I have place to talk about me or I get this feeling I shouldn’t be talking about me because then I’m just feeling sorry for myself and talking about this horrible illness we call mental illness that people shy away from and stop talking about it when it is brought up in conversation.

Some people try, I know they do, but it is difficult for someone to understand mental illness without some experience of their own whether from themselves or a loved one. I think it’s very important that people with mental illness understand that you or your life is no less important because you can’t do things that other people can do. You are not invalid because you cannot work or socialize the way you’d like to. Also, it is vital to note that an incredibly large number of people with mental illness are extremely smart and/or creative. Why this happens especially to people with those personality traits I don’t know but I think it is good to note that just because someone acts differently then you or has the challenge of mental illness does not make them dumb or talentless.

Doing things with mental illness is often like performing tasks through a veil. If you have a mental illness you always have that problem in front of your face to work around and through as you are dealing with others and going about your daily life. Everybody has this problem to some extent with their own difficulties but it is an excellent way to understand what people mental illness go through each minute of their lives. Mental illness is like carrying all the packs of mountain on a hike while everyone else gets to hike up pack free.

My own difficulties these days are because of a medication I am on called Clozapine. I was actually doing okay and the bad side effects were starting to go away when my body became use to the drug and now I can no longer go to sleep just on that drug. I need some immuvane to help me fall asleep, and I am becoming use to the immuvane really fast. The alternative is to up the Clozapine does and that is about all my alternatives. I was so frustrated at my doctor’s office the other day that I began to cry. I didn’t mean to but it’s horrible to now I will have to experience bad side effects again in order that I may sleep. For now I am not upping the dose but I will have to do it if I want to sleep. But I can’t handle the side effects and take a course in Fall and go downtown when I need to pick up stuff, drop stuff off, or schedule an exam for in the day. But it has become very important to me to get this Residential Design Certificate. It’s like then I can say, I’ve accomplished something these past seven years.

After that life is pretty much, well, whatever I want it to be. I want to get debts paid off. But I also really want to try for a creative writing masters at UBC. I was thinking about applying in the Spring when application time is. I can receive some funding as a disabilities student and I’ll get to write so that won’t be so bad. I am also deciding on whether or not I might like to try some drawing courses in the day somewhere. I am talented in art but I haven’t done it in a while. So who knows where I will go.

After, a four-year relationship the idea of dating is daunting. I always feel as if my illness is a big mark against me. Although, I know some guys won’t care, I know a lot will and it stops me from getting back into the whole dating thing especially when it comes to be able to go out at night and date. I started some online chatting but I am wondering if I just need to deal with my health and school now and if that would be a better thing, then trying to find someone I would like to date. But my friends almost all have husbands and boyfriends and I feel as if I spent to long with A. But sometime I will meet the right person I want to date again. For now, I’m just moving along trying to deal with everything else.

Thanks for reading!