100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

 Day 24 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Art of a Story and Death” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #100WordWednesday #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting last week’s #100WordWednesday flashfiction prompt. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by a work of art.” The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Prompt begins with the letter U. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl – Her Photograph and work of art for the prompt 🙂

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To write is to forget. Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life. Music soothes, the visual arts exhilarates, the performing arts (such as acting and dance) entertain. Literature, however, retreats from life by turning in into slumber. The other arts make no such retreat— some because they use visible and hence vital formulas, others because they live from human life itself. 

― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet”

(Sorry finding a Q name for this piece impossible but there is Q in Disquiet!)

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The photograph is lovely at first, 

A brilliant blue sky, soft winds of cool breezes, 

The Atlantic still icy, but forgiving. 

Trees rise and guard the home, the lighthouse, 

Ancient ones in slumber as spring yet approaches. 

Rock walls prevent a fall below, to the unforgiving chill. 

Hypothermia comes quickly here, 

But the scenery makes up for the inherent danger. 

Bright pink of the house stands out and the tower above matches, 

Glows in the night when the boats pass by, 

Protecting and guiding ships. 

The long grass still waiting to be verdent, 

Not dry crumpled straw. 

And the owners of the house are silent, keeping to themselves, 

Their only sense of existing, is the light that glares, when outside the tower is dark. 

Spring is slowly birthing, but the ocean’s still freezing, 

And the danger is too real for ships too close.  

And a stranger walking watches from the dim, 

Holding back a dog barking in madness. 

The bulb has burnt out, now disaster is unhinged, 

The ship clips the cliff, the house crumbles and the ship sinks, 

Screams in the night, in the Atlantic’ waters cold numbness. 

And when all is said and done, only the lighthouse stands, 

With a burnt out bulb of fault. 

How can this photograph be a work of art? 

Is there art in dying? 

Or is art and death as a perception, to ambigious to be real? 

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©Mandibelle16. 2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “The Healing Touch” #amwriting #poetry 


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

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Credit: Laura Williams

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Many faces have I, but don’t let me evaporate.

Too many masks I wear within to cover the scars that bind,

The twisting vines of ruined skin,

Not even plastic surgery could heal.

And the whispers of the dreadful night,

They haunt me in my sleep.

Each nightmare worse than the last, entrenching me in madness.

Crying and shaking, in a world I cannot escape.

My screams echoeing from the domed ceiling,

In St. Peter’s Basilica, my heart a kindled pyre.

Does God hear me, my fervent prayers without pride?

I know if He did, he would answer what I seek,

Provide relief from the cruelty of my suffering;

Of the ache and the burn in my skin.

He’d be a cooling gentle wind to end the burning flames,

I hope in my meekness for God as Elijah knew.

I try to forget. to move on, hiding behind masks so I’m safe.

My scars are not physical but they hide beneath skin,

Where plastic surgery cannot salvage a broken soul.

I’m a wretched bloody mess and my stomach is churning,

Why are the worst injuries, the ones you cannot see?

Why do people only see skin deep?

Not many will peer beneath the perfect layers of white ivory,

To see the layers underneath charred and scorched.

Many will not look past the words on your lips,

They are not interested in how a person says certain words,

Or why they say what do.

Many people hear only what they want to hear,

And if you choose to scream,

Than you’re the crazy one seeking attention.

But many screams are silent,

Before they are ever heard out loud,

This is why we need listeners and those with empathy,

To overcome those overflowing with ignorance and apathy to life;

To realize there is meaning in helping your neighbor out.

For we all have hidden scars and screams,

And most of them are dug deeply within our souls.

They wind around a person’s heart, a choking vine envokes —

A cry for help, so please hear it, long before we shout out loud,

Be still for a moment and listen well.

Respond before the masks hide many other faces and mine;

Act before you start cutting into our hearts,

Doing much more harm than good.

Watch your words and carefully avoid —

Assault and battery, for refusing to help those in need —

Refusing to help those lost in their pain. 

Heal with laughter and conversation,

A piece of your precious time.

Do not forget the meek and lowly,

We all need help discovering pathways into stardust.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

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

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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. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Acrostic, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Shadorma - 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables, Writing, Writing Challenges

B&P Shadorma & Beyond: Poetry – Shadorma/Acrostic – “Moon Tides” #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this prompt. Today’s focus is in the acrostic form of poetry with the Shadorma

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Such madness

Unfolds when the moon, 

Sits giant,

Orb shining. 

But tonight he’s a wane crescent. 

Madness tame. 

—-

Matters not, 

All moons wax quickly, 

Desperate song, 

Not hidden. 

Endless men, tricksters howling, 

Sending out —

—–

Signs of blood, 

Unconscious filled, 

Nattering, 

Teeth grating. 

Amulets of their hearts throbbing

Mystical tides pull. 

—-

Endless ins

Demonstrative outs. 

Water brings, 

Water it takes.

Moon’s pull on sailors can’t be —

Helped, when madness roams. 

—–

Morning comes;

Vessel sinks into the —

Water’s depth called.

Aimless men, 

Know not of the night only it’s —

Consequences.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, Pinterest, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Travel

September Quotes of Note #amwriting #quotes


Here’s my first set off quotes for September! Enjoy and keep what you like. 

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

May Day Prompts, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Poetry, Quotes, Tanka - 5,7,5,7,7 syllables, Writing

Maydays: Poem – Tankas – “The Best Kind of Mad.” #Maydays #amwriting 



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Thank you to K.L. Caley from new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. Today’s prompt is good madness. 

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http://www.pinterest.com

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I love that you have that —

Good madness, a bit of quirk.

Laughing and smiling, 

I’d rather have you a bit crazed, 

I worry when you’re lost, sad.

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When you’re mad I know you’re —

Alive; your heart beating genius. 

Found in Wonderland, 

Where my favourite Alice went, 

Your my Mad Hatter; my match.

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Not everyone would get —

Your peculiar mind which bends, forms.

Brilliant, but held, 

By societies normal.

I love your real craziness.

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Genuinely you, 

I never worry you’re fake.

You always reveal, 

A hint of absurdity, 

You finish my sentences.

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Your crazy begins,

It meets with my own and we’re —

Blessed to be us; home.

In our otherly world lost, 

We are the best kind of mad.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Free Verse, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quotes, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: “The Best People Are Mad.”


Prompt:

Write whatever you normally write about, and weave in a book quote, film quote, or song lyric that’s been sticking with you this week.
  
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I think if you looked around you and plucked the thoughts out of the head of everyone that surrounds you,

You would be scared to find out what they think. You might think: ” But I don’t want go among mad people.”

And I would reply: “Oh you can’t help that. We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” Your face is turning red now. You don’t believe what I say. 

“How do you know I’m mad?” You may ask me. And I would laugh until the tears streamed down my face at such questions from a child.

“You must be [mad]. Or you wouldn’t have come here.” It’s my best reply. It doesn’t give the answers you desire but I’m in no mood for your questions now. 

You may wonder where here is. Well a lot of people wonder about that. Yet here they are infront of me asking me if they’re mad. Of course, you’re mad. 

But I have an excellent answer to your question when you ask me a second time: “Have I gone mad?”I would tell you,” I’m afraid so. But let me tell you something. All the best people are.”

So if you’re still thinking about all the thoughts in all the minds around you. I suggest you stop and if you are a mind reader, only read the minds of someone who is mad. They are the only ones who truly understand.

It takes a little madness to truly comprehend. That life can be so fun and there are possibilities everywhere. Madness is a quality that I seek in everybody. Call it genius, eccentricity, craziness, or call it creativity. I call it madness. And it is fantastic! 

(Quotes from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, on GoodReads.)

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.