Photo Challenge: Poem – Synchronicity – “The Thief” #amwriting #poetry #fiction


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting. 

—–

Credit: Anja Buhrer

——

“But how can one regret what, to the mind, has never existed? Even loss is an inaccurate description, for what loss is without the awareness of losing?” – Nicole Krauss 

——

Reflections or shadows briefly stand,

Together as soulmates, us two

Lovers.

——

Your illusion captivates,

Your splendour resilient,

Eyes bright.

——

Even mirror images,

Destain to show your glory told, 

Goddess.

——

Knew you once as a child laughing bold,

Called you names and pulled your hair,

Cute girl.

——-

You’ve grown and you’ve changed,

Hair black and sweeping, shoulder length,

Glossy.

—–

Green eyes telling a story of —

Smiling lips, straightened teeth gleaming

Perfect.

—–

Stubborn chin, lovely breasts rising,

Fluted waist, lush body, legs —

Stellar.

—-

Curves run imagination wild and I, 

Stare, hopeful to hear your lilting voice —

Whisper. 

*****

I examine our reflections,

How strange you hate your beloved —

Husband.

—–

Caring for you as Alzheimers, 

Steals your lifememories; you’re —

Forty-nine.

——-

Synchronicity Poetry — A type of poem with events simultaneously related. The last two stanzas reveal a twist and the syllable count for each stanza is 8, 8, 2. 

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Friday Fictioneer: Poem – Free Verse – “Echo Beyond”


Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.


ff-train-to-no-where
Credit: C.E. Ayr

Parts of city, no one admits are here,

Only smashed cars, railroad tracks live dying.

Find a fleck of hope here;

There’s not but skeletons, twisted years lost.

*****

We stare into the crisscrossing of tracks,

Wonder how all the trains never seem lost.

For accidents, no care.

Here is our place, where no one dare go.

****

I will always hope,

Wishing there’s more left,

Then empty spaces littered.

I’ll find strength where it hurts,

Will I change our lot?

Someday our names will echo beyond.

*****

I’m tired of staying in this mishmash space,

There’s more to life than choking on coal dust.

My love, we’ll find our place.

We’re wolves, eyes gleaming, searching for home.

*****

Bitterness leaves me caught in this valley,

Is still and hot; we’ll move, find our names.

Wolves as you and I,

Our might is large; ignored, we’re crafty.

*****

I will always hope,

Wishing there’s more left,

Then empty spaces littered.

I’ll find strength where it hurts,

Will I change our lot?

Someday our names will echo beyond.

*****


“The Cave” – Mumford & Sons


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: Compassion for Insults #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Nortina S for hosting Moral Monday’s prompts. This weeks moral is: “Bless Those Who Curse You.”

——-

http://www.theblaze.com

——-

Clarence shook his head at the perfectly groomed men in their expensive suits. The scent of expensive cologne made him sick.

His grizzled beard was dirty on sallow skin and his eyes were a faded blue and bloodshot. 

While the men in suits passed Clarence by on the sidewalk, he swore at them. He called them the worst names he could think of. 

A well groomed man finally, stopped and kneeled  on the sidewalk where Clarence sat swearing. He opened his wallet and gave a stunned Clarence everything:

“This is about three-hundred dollars. Is there anything else you need? We can go into the grocery store and buy whatever you need. Or the mall, if you like? Do you have a place to stay?”

Clarence had no words.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.