Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

———

Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

——

As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

——

Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

—–

You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

—–

Credit: Laces and Tiaras

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 10 – Wrapped Refrain – “Favourite Mistake’s Burn” #amwriting #poetry


Day 10 Prompt: Unfolded
“Has there ever been a time that something negative happened but because of it you discovered something positive? Free write for ten minutes diving into one or more of your experiences and then take us on a journey through your poetry, show us how the events unfolded. Or…

You could take it in a different direction and free write about unfolded and see where it leads. Was there a time when you were doing laundry with someone and they didn’t like how you were folding? Tell us about it.”
———-


http://www.chess.com

——–

Events unfold, burn me apart, 

Thought life was stable; now restart.

Begin again anew and find, 

Inspiration warm and kind. 

Or realize life isn’t nice; it tricks you each time, 

You think you would know, twice shy once burned –but you’re blind. 

——-

Don’t you know my favourite mistake, 

Experience merciless takes —

It’s fire to everyone who thought not, 

To remember their lessons taught. 

It’s the way life unfolds teaching us learning hurts,

What’s worse, relearning leaves scorch marks, worse — blood boils, spurts. 

——

No one feels sorry for you now, 

You’d time enough to figure how. 

You will recall your experience, 

Though vainly hid, it’s your reference.

Walk away, don’t do it, you’ll get tossed out the door.

Change your mind before you regret, choice made poor.

——

You never learn, you have to see, 

If you realize and change key, 

Your life might be more harmonious, 

Less mistakes made erroneous.

Maybe you’ve found peace, where experience led you, 

Events unfold, learning never ends, life drills you. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 5 – Blitz Poem – “Sharp Is the Knife” #poetry #amwriting


Day 5 Prompt: Sharp

“When I first think of something sharp, pain comes to mind but then I think of an A sharp or a B sharp. Of course there are sharp turns, sharp angles and “He’s looking sharp.” and let’s not forget, sharp as a tack and look sharp.” 

——–

http://www.emptyseats.wordpress.com

——-

Not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
Not the brightest crayon in the box. 

Boxes need opening with sharp knives.

Boxes, trapped in our boxes, locked.

Lock it up tight. 

Lock it or else 

Else in the morning you’re to blame

Else, you’ll lose your job, what then

Then you don’t know

Then you can’t tell

Tell nothing because

Tell nothing they say

Say you’re not bright

Say you’re a bit dim

Dim as shadow

Dim as a dark room

Rooms, you’ve not one your own

Rooms are nothing, you’re vagrant 

Vagrant wandering needs people 

Vagrant wandering seeking close

Close enough, no one will steal

Close enough, no one will think

Think you’re more than homeless

Think you’re more than a mistake

Mistaken once, but you’re capable

Mistaken once, but you’re smart

Smart, can you appear that way

Smart, most people aren’t

Aren’t life smart

Aren’t more than book smart

Smart, who cares when you’ve no food

Smart, who cares when you’re so cold

Cold eyes of people staring

Cold hearts of people cracking

Cracking your bubble 

Cracking your safety zone

Zone of space around you

Zone of personal space

Space is all around you

Space, there is too much of it

It, means a place you can stay 

It is a place called home

Home, needs a job to pay for 

Home, lost because you weren’t sharp

Sharp is the knife that cuts in life.

Sharp is the knife that cuts in life.

——-

The Blitz Poem
“The Blitz Poem, a poetry form created by Robert Keim.
This form of poetry is a stream of short phrases and images with repetition and rapid flow. 
Begin with one short phrase, it can be a cliché. Begin the next line with another phrase that begins with the same first word as line 1. The first 48 lines should be short, but at least two words.

The third and fourth lines are phrases that begin with the last word of the 2nd phrase, the 5th and 6th lines begin with the last word of the 4th line, and so on, continuing, with each subsequent pair beginning with the last word of the line above them, which establishes a pattern of repetition. 

Continue for 48 total lines with this pattern, And then the last two lines repeat the last word of line 48, then the last word of line 47.
The title must be only three words, with some sort of preposition or conjunction joining the first word from the third line to the first word from the 47th line, in that order.
There should be no punctuation. When reading a BLITZ, it is read very quickly, pausing only to breathe.” 
Please see Shadow Poetry for further information. 

——

Apologies, the whole bolded text above should be indented but my WordPress App is misbehaving. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Deserved. 

A Quote Which Encourages Me to Write, Even When I Doubt Myself.


Thanks to Martin Flux, whose challenge was for writers to share a quote that encouraged them to write.

—-

“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.” – Stephen King.

——-

You might think this an odd quote to choose. It might be strange that a quote that talks about a writer feeling diminished because of what they wrote being too close to their heart, encourages my own writing. But I find when I put myself out there; when I write and I write about the things that have hurt me the most; or made me love the most; and I admit things that make me seem a careless human being, I’m at my best. 

All people guard secrets close to their hearts and so most understand. And for people who read my work and ask, “Why would you ever admit that or say that, where people can read it and see it?” It is because I have to make people understand. I accept some people won’t but it doesn’t make me stop attempting to relate to them in someway. 

I often feel as I have this explosion of words and story demanding to be let out of my heart. So I write, and later I edit and correct. I try to make my emotions understandable through writing, a method people relate to. You may not comprehend what I wrote. But I needed to tell that story and say those words even if I didn’t do it sufficiently.

Writing is like breathing for me. Some people talk a lot and tell stories out loud, I tell them typed on pages. Or I write them by hand in journals.Yet I know, there I things I say that will be misunderstood or taken out of context, or read with an incorrect meaning attached. But then when you write, that’s how it is, the reader often chooses the meaning.

—–

©Mandibelle16.All Rights Reserved.