Photo Challenge: Poem – Laurenelle – “Freeing the She-Wolf” #amwriting #poetry #fiction


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

Credit: Natalie Deprina

—–

I writhe, I wreathe for I’m neatly twisted, 

You’ll never unravel me, my heart unknown. 

You hold the tether on my talons tight fisted

I’m tenacious, a survivor bold, 

You can tie me in knots, try to keep me near;

I’ll escape, live without your blackness owned. 

I don’t quit; you shouldn’t trap me for fear, 

I’ll catch you first, she-wolf who swiftly bites. 

Your callous ropes hurt, but I’ll disappear

Love doesn’t choke, it’s not uninviting

Love is a freedom, not a smoke screen

But you’re in my den, I’m growling my spite

My name isn’t “Sweetheart,” don’t demean me;

Power struggle invoked, within your ropes —

I’ve held dear, but know I’m incharge here. 

Droplets of blood, I swear I won’t be broke

Such a darkness in you raptured by my light. 

Goodness will win; she-wolves don’t quit, they’ve hope. 

My love, no more traps, let my heart be free

Your wolf, let her breathe, she’ll return to thee

I writhe, I wreathe, for I’m neatly twisted. 

You hold the tether on my talons, tight fisted. 

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Poems: Free Verse  – “Chivilry is Dead; Love Lives” #amwriting #poetry


http://www.polyvore.com

———

Swords, steel reflecting light, might against might;
Who has the stronger arm; who’se trained to perfection? 

End ridiculous contestants, challenging each other, 

Coming to blows over Ladies, with medieval weaponry.

Put your duelling pistols away, live through dawn;

You combat with each other as you choose, 

It means little to me; chivalry the grim has scythed.

——-

Twenty-first-century woman, with poise taking on life.

Chivalry, extinct and never truthfully was ‘in,’

It was a gest, a game the court played for King and Queen,

Beneath the game, feigned affection reigned.

No thought for the personal freedoms of a Lady, 

No thought for the woman; she was owned.

At the hub of a wheel of chilviry, the Princess on her throne.

Married off on a white horse, to a dashing young Prince.

He a tyrant, spinning the cogs and wheels of his kingdom.

She primps, preens, performing a show;  

Accepting her Prince’s knight’s fealty; his dying love,

On battle field, the enemy soldiers ran the knight through.

Courtly manners, hide whispered secrets;

Lethal games, converging in mortality; bloody corpses.

 Hold your swords away, do not thrust or perry for attention.

The world has out-grown “pissing contests.”

—–

Win the woman of your dreams, with humour, 

Demonstrate, actual life, not fairy tales, can be fun together.

Your wife can be your lover; your lover your wife,

No having a woman pure enough for wifely duties, 

And a mistress a man loved and made actual love to.

Forget Authorian Legend and courtly love; it’s rules are lore.

Buy your own Lady gloriously coloured flowers,

Take her for a night dancing; giving a memory to smile about.

Together is being with all of your close friends, 

Together is melding your families;

Being united by oath; an agreement between you both.

A Lady is no longer the Princess on the courtly pedastool;

 A man is no longer the white knight; we’ve put to rest fairy tales.

Netflix and chill on the couch; a stately royal date,

Closing the leather bound, dusty history’s books, 

On weird courtship rituals, forced marriages, and chivalry.

More than anything, chivalry was a literary tradition.

Yet, the modern era cries; find your soulmate if you can.

Most parents finished arranging marriages,

A new way to win the bride, to win the Lady.

——

Love her for more than her sexuality, her ability to have children; 

Love her though she is flawed and not entirely ideal.

Love her forever, your heart beating for her;

Chilviry in true form; hides in the modern world.

Equality of woman and men; yet woman adore being catered to,

How lovely to be spoiled; treated as if you were special despite feminism.

Only, keep your swords and your pistols in the vaults of history, 

A game of fists won’t usually solve the problem.

Slipping in through the cracks of ice in her shield, 

Growing warmth and heat, so her hard heart beats, 

Thawing out the cold; letting spring light up her voice, 

Allowing the light in her eyes to flourish and glow, 

Hiding winters barren drought filled radiation.

Rays of light, they ignite and bring fire to her tears, 

Bring a Princess, ignored and used —

Into the modern-era; she’s your Lady, so you treat her well, 

And all her love acquire in return.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Loss of Connection


Because I never heard a word from you
I assumed everything. And each day that passed at first,
The missing you hurt, there is pain in being someone’s “mine.”
As the days passed, reality returned and I stopped,
Thinking about you so much, I thought about my life
How ever piece was melded together, yet fragile as a bubble
I worked, I rested, I spent time with friends, and I shopped
For Christmas presents, scrawling sparkled cards as the days slipped by.
I waited. But I did not hear your voice and I had left phone messages.
I imagined a hundred things but mostly, that you were at work and
Punishing me somehow for something I had written beforehand,
Something I wrote in anger and shared with the world.
Tonight I decided it was time to write some words again because
You inspire me, missing you every second stirs the misery in me
And I think about the future, all the days I will spend alone.
I think if I have things to keep me busy I will be happy and yet,
The weeks pass by in lonely lentement. I decided to separate myself from you.
Keep myself to my own. Because when you’re here you’ll take me again
And I will no longer be just be my own. It’s hard being owned.
It’s a word every woman, every enslaved being detests.
But what we never really keep in mind is that we are always giving
Pieces of ourselves away to be kept safe when we trust someone.
In this way we are owned, especially by our lovers.
Those who know us deepest and can rip our hearts to pieces.

Not a word, not a word, you haven’t told me anything.
And I think that it is snowing, that you just have bad cell reception.
That the storm is keeping you away from the internet, from saying anything.
That you are not even able to call because you just can’t.
I think that your busy and that your just ignoring me because you don’t think
The order of my days is interesting, it doesn’t deserve a reply.
But excuse me for posting online these words, not in anger but in hurt.
I don’t think all this is likely, I just think you don’t want to talk to me.
That you would try to get in touch with me after a week.
And I doubt, that you’ll try next week, until the end of the week after.
Then you’ll want something, or maybe not, I do not know
My poor heart thumps uncomfortably slow
Don’t you know one word from you and I would be just fine.
I wouldn’t write emails where I wonder why you don’t talk to me.
I would live my life and be okay because I know that we are okay and that
You actually take time to think about me in your days as I think about you.
I believe you do but I don’t know what lack of communication means.
Because I am owned and then unknown I lack soul to care anymore

My mind rolls with questions, but I’ve closed the door on whether or not
You will bother to say hello this shift, I just live my own life.
And wait out the silence, I can hear my own heart beat it says be tough
And be self-reliant. It doesn’t matter that I needed your advice
It matters that I live my own life… this situation is thin as tissue paper
I crumple it into a ball, and wonder what the weeks ahead will bring.
I text too much perhaps, I write too much perhaps, I ask too much perhaps
So I will think of you and whatever you are dealing with.
Pray for you, because I do it anyways. And in the night there’s whispers, dreams of not such distance – where we are both our own and owned together.

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