Three Line Tales: “Tucked Near” #amwritingpoetry #3LineTales (x2)


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


Credit: Nick Fewings via Unsplash.


I’m down-trodden, weakling child;

Until head eases,

Lethargic fog clears; you’re near.

Days are dim, dead dreary,

Dickenasian smog dour.

Gloom plucking my heart’s curves.

***

Yet, within darkness rustles notes,

Silver breezes chime,

Your words are balmy bliss.

*****

As Elijah cowering, cave hiding,

Whisper wind Holy,

Your presence revered; I’m safe.

*****

Calm cooling waters, drench coal —

Stricken sadness; lips —

On my forehead so dear.

*****

Lungs filled with tar-blackness,

Eucalyptus-oxygen cures.

Pain collapses tucked near you.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Photo Challenge/ Music Challenge: Poem — Italian Sonnet – “Complete” #photochallenge #musicchallenge #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting photo challenge. Thanks also to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Music Challenge & the song “Broken” by LovelytheBand.


Credit: Origin Eight

We’re not all whole, our lives stretch uncontrolled,

Not by forces we know or can pchange,

We’ll shuffle our decks try to rearrange;

But, the weight of our burdens are sins untold.

Perhaps, life traps us; we’re always out-sold.

Pain tears, love’s truth, my face in your hands,

Beaming eyes, loving me broken and damned.

Endeared to my loneliness, pain rife –grave.

Life isn’t love poems, no ballads of song;

Only together we heal scars, live on.

I’m tucked in your eyes, we’re lonely as one,

You’re tucked in my arms, we’re lonely souls wrung.

We’re jagged dark lines become wholesome, sweet,

We’re finding our pieces; somehow complete.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

100 Word Wednesday: Fiction – Keep Me #amwriting #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.


Credit: Bikurgurl

Our hidden place, a hollow in rustled leaves, tangled roots, as the river meanders close. I inhale verdant greenery and twigs crunch underfoot, as we sit on tree stumps near the shore.

Some occasions, the river trickles and torrents. At times, it’s poured buckets, and the banks pass eerie, too close to our feet. Sometimes it’s a kiss on our runners as we wade.

In the gleaming sun, the dimple of your left cheek lifts. Your grey-blue eyes sparkle; my hands clench as we banter. They curl around bark, roughness masking my wish to touch your hair — a hint of gray you deny. Your laughter resonates, and we quip as usual. I ruin my white Adidas twirling them in dirt. As the river, your stories flow; but, you’re to far — and to near all at once.

I peer up, nip my lip. “Keep me.” Two words implored.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Poem – Lunes – “Hollow Liberty” #amwritingpoetry #3LineTales


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


Credit: Robert Hickerson via Unsplash


Barbed wire tongue, crescents bleeding;

Crimsons stains wrung,

Scratches, scrapes, gouges; fight wounds.

*****

Scars criss-cross, linger; priceless

Liberty gnawing, piercing;

Glittering eyes, barbed-teeth maim.

*****

Cages, prisons, iron bars, steel barriers,

Keep-out; empty —

Victory; they’ve decided Lady Liberty’s hollow.

*****

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Fiction – Perpetual Hunger #amwritingfiction #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 300 Words for hosting #3LineTales.


Credit: Sam Lloyd via Unsplash


Lilly was 18-years old and despite turning a year older, hated she wasn’t able to leave their house on the lake for a city university, not the prep-college in town; Lilly’s family had for generations owned a winery near her current university in Napa. After a dull birthday party she swung to-and-fro on her treasured porch swing, and scowled at the lake — her charcoaled eyes brimming tears; Lilly wondered how much criticism she’d have to endure until she could attend any university she desired in Fall. She had achieved the SAT grades for a scholarship far from the winery and her Aunt’s persistent nagging and constant mention of Lilly’s waistline; she longed for the days could attend school far north in Canada without perpetual hunger.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Writing/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Wraiths at the Window Dissapear” #anwritingpoetry #SundayWriting


Thanks to MindLoveMisery Menagerie for hosting #SundayWriting. The words I’m using is “Wraiths at the Window.” Thanks also to NELNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo challenge prompt.


Credit: Unknown

Wraiths of silver strings near,

Hearts of darkness, at the window pear.

I cannot undo what I have done; guilt of the self-shunned.

I cannot whisper truths of then; they say, “I serve myself and pain condone.”

Yet, I surge to live past window panes — clawed beasts;

For they’re as ghosts, nothing but wild make-belief.

But, closer still, they draw; arm hairs prickle at their spite.

They’re lifeless dream-frights, sick-faced skulls, madness without light.

But, I’m no wraith, evil-sworn in Hell’s pit trapped,

I’m a creature who’s not forsaken; who’s clasped tight —

In a greater being’s benevolence.

So, when I crumble to pieces as wraiths trail close,

I cling to silver sparks, to golden paths, summer sunlight bold.

I’m not afraid of monsters, their creep and slip-slime, shivers down my spine;

I’ve no fear of mystics, their pitiless swords, ropes of malice torn.

Here, daylight seeps through, dawn explodes peaches and cream;

Sky’s beam the beat of life, as powder-puff clouds float.

Scratching claws crunched, but the nightmares are past; they’re ripped from my heart with angel’s might.

For even in my dimmest hours, as one who carried a weighted ring,

I have my Sams, and they bolster me.

I have my white-wizard, omniscient one, and —

While they’re are times fear nips at skin or tears humiliate in dreams,

The brilliance of day reigns; I’m never lost to forever-demons.

The weight of my guilt’s revoked with sweet hope;

A blinding, piercing glimmer challenges each wraith of fright.

And I nudge open pale-eyes on icing-sugar beaches,

Denying dank souls who screeched in my ears, plucked at my soul;

I’m without the crushing weight of the world,

I’m enlightened, strolling through surf, gulls calling,

As chatters alight with gray-finned dolphins, porpoises too.

Beacons in my hour of need, gracing me homebound,

To where our greatest loves –they’re the only real,

No wraiths or spirits wandering, no ghosts —

Their time is ephemeral, without eternity, without Heaven’s bliss.

My time has only begun, & it’s sheen points towards the fantastic tomorrow;

Evil wraiths, dementor’s kiss–forever I resist and conquer.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Fiction – Plashless and Fated #amwritingfiction #3LineTales


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


Credit: Nattu Adnan via Unsplash.

At twilight we scramble past rocks and moss-filled beaches, as our feet skim the lake’s surface, squishing into pillow sand; we crouch in anticipation for a silver scale to gleam. The setting sun blinds, but neither of us are scared for we know now, is time to catch glittering fish-dragons; we’ve lost enough to ensure we grasp them all. They’re shadows leap into the marmalade sky, plashless but fated the moment we spotted them.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – Prose-Poetry – “Orreries and Moonscapes” #amwritingprosepoetry #SundayWritingPrompt #MLMM


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Sunday Writing Prompt. From the choice of terms I’ve chosen the words: orrery (solar system model) & Divan (sofa without end), Alice blue (color), Eucalyptus (scent), circle (shape), photograph (item in purse/wallet).


Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie


“Hope in the Air”


She traced the gold paint bitter,

It gleamed as didn’t dirty pennies.

Her measly sum was but a crumb,

And she had risked it for a piece of man-scum.

She returned, here, always — never too far;

Her childhood land of faeries; her home.

She approached the library orrery,

Spinning the sun’s gleaming gold orb.

A sigh escaped her diva-dream lips; she bit them.

Don’t let a woman fool you,

Scarlet lips, they never stay put,

The lipstick travels, blips.

But, masks blood if you chew them;

If you forget the earth’s relation to the sun,

Your relation to reality.

So, she dreamed adrift,

In knotted flannel shirt and skinnies;

Stroking grandma’s velvet Divan,

As if she could fashionably faint.

As if she could divine meaning, stroking Alice-Blue upholstery;

In cup of tea tumbled, crushed nearby;

China splinters dust, fancy tea spilled.

Some relief in eucalyptus leafs soothing;

She can, finally, breathe in her favorite tea;

Nose no longer useless.

She flips off patined-ruby shoes;

Kitten heals meowing, released.

Wiggling her toes painted with satin-ribbon;

Bemoaning her lost love, traitor, worthless, and without guile.

“I never would have done what you did to me,

To anyone, not ever.”

Last words she thinks, but never hurled.

Her Alice-Blue eyes darken,

Trace the doors golden pattern;

Images she modernized, decor, and memory intertwined.

Turquoise-tranquil dreams as her head burrows in velvet;

Arm thrust over head, maiden helpless — but she’s not.

The Orrery still twirling in a circle as —

Red-herring anger flashes.

Red-lips torn, pain to forget frustration,

Tears as a Phoenix waiting to burn, to discover renewal.

And not enough fresh air in the room,

Library dust, mildew, overpower eucalyptus.

She peers at her gram’s patined heals cherished,

They’ve escaped bone-China chips;

Their antiquity safe on Robin’s-egg plush carpet.

A peculiar aroma, dust, eucalyptus, book spines, horse-glue;

Ancient editions, thrown away,

In her family the women restored; she does to this day.

Yet, the photographs of history split her childhood dreams,

Summers here, years of tea parties, and creamy-egg-salad sandwiches.

Wuthering Heights, The Moonstone,

Peter Pan, and The Sun Also Rises;

Scattered between old-editions, photo-albums,

Pictures, preserved photographs; her addition to family history.

Saving literature, pictures, from sunlight, and tears;

She lies back, stretches and dreams,

Alice in Wonderland, Anne of Green Gables,

The Yearling, and Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes.

She’s humming a tune,

“There’s hope in the air,

There’s hope it the water,

Not even for me. . .”

Until she yanks out her wallet,

Throws out two twenties;

Penniless, but beyond rich with orreries and moonscapes.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Tale Weavers: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) — “Full-Hearted” #amwritingpoetry #taleweavers #MLMM


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weaver’s this week with his theme: all things bright and beautiful & what it means to us. Also, thanks to MindLoveMisery’s MenagerieMindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Music Prompt #41 “This Is Not the End” by MILCK.


Credit: Joshua Fuller via Unsplash


This is Not the End by MILCK


All things bright and beautiful cleanse; this is not end.

Star’s leap, shrinking violets shimmer tall, lively bend;

Despite storm’s ahead, summer’s heat,

Deepens azure; the sky still beams,

Wide-eyed giggles, cherub children;

Bells tinkle joyful, dreamscapes mild.

Your schemes aren’t the end, despite a shameful purpose;

Sickening plots — lies, your ugly’s gone; I’ve more worth.

****

This isn’t the end, of all things bright and beautiful,

I’m not afraid of monsters, your cunning half-truths.

I’m a survivor furnished,

In sweet trappings of God’s spirit.

I fear not your Slytherin tongue;

I’m a warrior inspite your drugs —

Candy words, lethargy, crafted bitter-bliss —

You’re daft, such a nasty trick; too late — you missed.

*****

All things bright and beautiful, life moves, expands,

Beneath snow spring trickles in streams; ice cracks, your damned.

Wicked man against roaring lion,

His might rages, light that defies.

I’m not afraid of ruthlessness,

For I’ve inhaled His brilliant truth.

You can’t snuff it out, you can’t beat it’s flames; feasting on–

Destruction, your falsehood revealed; I’m no man’s pawn.

*****

Sweet lamb am I, protected from plots; your slaughter —

Without regret, dishonest; I win you falter.

This lapse isn’t the end; I’m free.

Once blind, I stare eyes pitying;

Your tricks are done, for I have sun.

Wild winds, tangled grass and I’ve won —

Space to wander in aqua dawn, white sands beautiful.

All things bright, I’ve chosen a door and key — heart-full.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes: December 2018 Part Two #notablequotes #quotes #pinterest #poetry


December’s passed. Happy New Year 2019‼️🥂Keep going. ‼️🥳


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©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.