#OctPoWriMo Day 23/Photo Challenge: Free Verse – “You Might” #amwritingpoetry #photochallenge


For OctPoWriMo Day 23 the Prompt is see me.


Today’s prompt is See Me. I love the simplicity and strength of this statement. What is it that you wish others knew about you? What would you want those in your closest relationships to acknowledge? What is your truth?


Credit: Michael Matkezo

You might see me,
You might not.
You might peer behind paintings,
Under the table,
Into the cavernous closet,
Darkness swiping with claws.
You might see me,
You might not.
You might have a sense of humor,
Drifting down the hallways,
Laughter trickling, a babbling brook,
A bridge that draws me closer.
You might see my bare face stained red with tears;
You might see me in classic makeup,
Or the hollowness under my eyes —
Too many endless nights settling.
You might experience the execution of words;
Cut ruthlessly unheard.
The ruins that form a masterpiece,
If only in my dreams.
You might see me, you might not,
As the tsunami crashes in,
A wall of glass, of water hovering.
A wooden doll who’s splintered,
As mere gossamer threads support.
You might see me, you might not.
All the foreign lands I’ve wandered,
With flashlight under the covers.
Reading contemporary romance and adventure;
Classic books scattered with historical texts,
Fashion magazines and journal articles.
The fine pull of modern literary works,
As they entice in ever-altering persuasion.
You might find Milton and Donne,
Next to Atticus or Lang Lev.
E. Hanson next to Hemingway and Frost.
You might see me, you might not.
Because, perhaps, the eye of hurricane,
Isn’t a disaster storming?
Perhaps, it’s a secret hideaway,
And suddenly, after everything,
After every step and stumble;
Clarity rings as bells.
And the water rushes in,
A ruthless baptism;
A tale told by survivors.
You might see me,
You might not.

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.
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#NaPoWriMo Day 4/Tale Weavers: Poem – Free – Verse – “Infinite Fallibility”#amwriting #poetry #TaleWeavers


For Day 4 of NaPoWriMo the prompt is: “to write a poem that is about something abstract – perhaps an ideal like “beauty” or “justice,” but which discusses or describes that abstraction in the form of relentlessly concrete nouns. Adjectives are fine too!

I’m combining with Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver #162 about an item of magic. To me, something that is ‘ideal,’ has a kind of magic.


Credit: Yuiizaa September via Unsplash


Helen of Troy,

Fairest woman.

The ideal as —

The poet Homer,

The Philosopher Plato’s ‘just’ society;

Yet, the word means,

Not enough;

Not,

Mr. Hawkins’ anomalies,

Nor Virgil’s Aeneid,

Leading Dante on the path —

Purgatory, Hades, and Paradiso.

Yet both were ideal teachers,

For Milton’s Paradise Lost.

Or, consider Coco Channel,

Sewing pockets,

In women’s suits,

Not for decoration,

A utility, women of old —

Weren’t given.

Or Cleopatra the seductress,

Survives Caesar and Marc Anthony;

Her beauty, their destruction; her death.

Or, Shakespeare’s plays,

Ideal comedies, with —

Brilliant histories and tragedies;

Satisfying Queen Elizabeth I’s whims.

And Beowulf’s writer,

Binding the need,

For heroic deeds, boasting —

Revenge and deeds as immortality.

Clashing with,

Holy Scriptures;

And the lone ideal, one man,

From Bethlehem.

Who many still claim,

“He’s a fraud — for freeing me.”

Forgiveness, with heroism,

We have the modern Ulysses;

James Bond, Jason Bourne.

Disney Princesses,

Merida, Elsa and Moana;

Yet, there is no ideal,

On earth we can prefect.

It’s inherit in our existence,

Ideals are lost.

Twisting Milton’s truth,

To Pandemonium.

While Helen’s stare,

Perceives angel- skeletons,

Blaspheming prisoners;

Jews worked, starved to death;

Their figure’s the epitome,

Of models,

Even, ‘Twiggy’s’ bones rattle, and rage.

Yet, Helen smiles,

With visions of new ideals,

Yet, no ideal,

Is ever ideal;

For, to be ideal is to be in paradise.

Not, alive as we are now —

Imperfect as we are.

Our flaws bind us,

In fallibility.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

You Know Nothing


At the beginning of my BA in English, a wise professor told me that you begin university knowing everything and leave knowing nothing. He also said that if this occurred then he and the other university profs had done their job. When I first heard this I considered it carefully. I didn’t think I knew everything, I knew there was a lot for me to learn, so for me how could this be?

A funny thing happened, however, as I begun to learn. Every time I learned about something it was never enough, there were holes in what the university profs taught me. I would learn about John Donne the poet and at first I would only learn one or two of his poems and what he was talking about in them. I read a selection of Paradise Lost and hated it. Then in another class I would learn a few more John Donne poems and a bit about the history of John Donne. But in between those 2 classes there were holes where I wanted or needed to learn something and had not. Then in another class I would learn about Renaissance history, then Renaissance Philosophy, then Renaissance writers, the writer’s John Donne and John Milton.

Then I read Paradise Lost in fourth year university and loved it. I found out how in their thinking, John Donne and John Milton were connected – 2 little lines that went something like: though truth and evil near twins be, truth a little elder be. This is a badly quoted line from John Donne that aptly described the truth in Paradise Lost. Satan tried to foil God through destroying mankind, but God was good, God was the truth and older and more powerful then evil, the twisting of what is good. But after I had taken that 400 level course, I found there were still holes. There was still deeper places one could go into the similarities of Milton, Donne, and other writer’s of the Renaissance. There was more history to learn about the Renaissance, true history, and literary history; there was so much more to learn and there always is in anything. This is how one leaves university having learned so much but having really learned nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Each course I took truthfully, did go deeper into what I was learning but what I was learning only really scratched the surface of what there was to learn on a particular topic, on everything. Looking back on what I learned before I would realize ” I know nothing.” But still I would feel a small victory because at least I knew something; but it was not much. I do not know when you become an expert on something or how. I think it must be impossible.

As for becoming an expert, I wish to become an expert on writing. But I have a lot to overcome to become that expert. I need more education, more discussion and guidence, I need a solid reputation, I need time and experience. I need a A lot of things and still I will only know so much and it will only matter to so many people. This is the nature of learning, it never stops, and you can never know enough because there is always more details to be learned or discovered. It also seems that often only a particular niche of people want to know what you want to know. So having a BA in English, didn’t make me a genius, neither did a diploma in Interior Design. Education is a beginning, a beginning I wish for all of you so you too will see there are holes in what you have been taught and there is always more to learn; you know nothing. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Ask my professor.