Current Events, Free Verse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, OctPoWriMo, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 10/ Sunday Writing Prompt: Free Verse – “Equisite Possibilities” #amwriting #poetry 


OctPoWriMo Day 10 has a theme Prompt about control and power in a positive sense, more like empowerment. I’m combining this prompt with the Sunday Writing Prompt of September 24, 2017 by Scribblersdip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Credit: Scribblersdip MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

It’s wonderment, 

This feeling, racing through, 

My veins, 

Blood pulsing back to limbs;

An exquisite kind of power, 

Empowerment

With pain. 

I’m all the better —

For it; 

Fighting, struggling,

Achieving aspirations

We soon recognize, 

Key differences, 

Between fantasy,

And reality. 

Which dreams are reasonable, 

Or will never be;

We can find strength, 

When failing;

Learning always occurs. 

What hurts the most,

Makes us humble, 

And those who stumble, 

In clouds need —

Realize their talents.

For we can succeed,

Beyond the pain,

Discovering our capabilities

A feeling that’s exquisite

Addictive endorphins; 

In knowing your rare talents. 

To change your life, 

In a moment’s 

glimmer; 

Tracing the lines, 

Destiny’s gifted. 
——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Blitz poem - 48 Lines, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, OctPoWriMo, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 7/Tale Weavers: Poem – Blitz – “Still So Unreal” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry 


Today’s OctPoWriMo theme is going to far or crossing the line. I’m combining this prompt with  Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Taleweavers prompt on rejection. 

——


——

Unnumb the pain, make me feel

Unnumb the pain it’s so unreal

Unreal enough that it’s too real

Unreal enough that hurts all the more

More was hurtful, you crossing lines

More was insidious and harmful 

Harmful, you were supposed to protect

Harmful because my wounds are jagged 

Jagged life, you’ve blessed me with 

Jagged life, do you know how I feel? 

Feel, do you feel at all? Have empathy? 

Feel, is your body as numb as mine? 

Mine is aching and empty

Mine has a hole in my stomach

Stomaching your betrayal

Stomaching your cruelty 

Cruelty that lingers and nips

Cruelty that cannot be blocked out

Out of my mind, my body 

Out of my heart, my soul 

Soulless, why’d you have to be this way? 

Soulless, saw your vacant eyes and knew all along 

Along, I go away from you, 

Along I go with opportunities 

Opportunities to thrive and learn

Opportunities to be a better person 

Person who loves

Person who forgets

Forgets your terrible denial, rejection

Forgets that I crossed the line 

Lines demarcated that said don’t ask for more, 

Line demarcated that brought up your walls

Walls, fortified structures 

Walls, yours, aren’t my fault

Fault lies with us both

Faults, we’re all of of us flawed 

Flawed as together we had too many 

Flawed as the night without stars

Stars as your eyes that drew me in 

Stars going off with your velvet touch

Touch, the experience not forgotten

Touch, yours is but a memory

Memory, nostalgia not reality 

Memory of the best times and the worst

Worst memories at the end

Worst memories haunt me still

Still I’ve moved on and I’m happy

Still I’ve found a way to love life

Life has no garuntees, but I’m okay 

Happy, today, that word describes me well

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Event, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, OctPoWriMo, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 2 – Poem: Free Verse – “Of Terror & The Dying” #amwriting #poetry #yegstrong #vegasshooting 


Welcome to OctPoWrMo Day 2 . I’ll be going back to Day 1. But today’s prompt was writing what we must. And this is what resulted, sorry to begin with the topic isn’t light. 

It’s inspired by two events the Las Vegas Shooting and terrorist events in Alberta, Canada. 

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Credit: Ian Dooley via Unsplash
——–
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot. 

I wish you didn’t feel the need, 

To take others with you to the grave. 

I wish you knew your pain, 

Was a problem that could’ve been helped, 

If wish you had only asked. 

I wish you weren’t indoctrinated

That morals halted your, 

Urge to kill and wound hundreds. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

I wish that you’d stopped yourself. 

Thought of the consequences, 

I wish you’d had empathy. 

Realized everyone feels pain as you did, 

That all people have things in their life, 

That wound and maim them, 

Throughout life’s winding road; 

We all feel internal pain, brokenness sometimes. 

But others chose better coping methods, 

Not to go about their wicked way, 

Taking global humanity to their knees. 

*****
I wish you didn’t kill, 

I wish you didn’t shoot. 

I wish you didn’t choose chaos, 

That you chose understanding —

Not violence. 

I wish you knew all the family’s hurting, 

How your pain became more than your victims, 

More than the wounded and the dead. 

I wish you knew how you maimed everyone —

On scene, through the online world. 

How guns are so destructive, 

When they’re attained so easily to murder. 

That blood flows, when gunshot wounds, 

Cause suffering. 

That men and women are lying dead, 

Having lost their lives too early. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

Because other people will emulate you. 

They will think your selfish choice, 

Is the right path for them too. 

I hate that you had to take, 

So many others with you. 

That you didn’t comprehend, 

The sanctity of life. 

It’s ever so valuable, beyond twisted beliefs, 

Your inner turmoil — whatever it was, 

More than the false reasons, 

You believed gave your actions merit.  

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you would shoot, 

I wish a place of celebration, 

A place of respite and vacation, 

Did not become a mass murdering location; 

But it did, all because of you. 

I hate that you can’t hear, 

The moans of the people you hurt. 

That you can’t look them in the eye, 

And see the their tears, their horror. 

I hate that you don’t see, 

Children who’ve lost parents. 

I hate that you did not realize, 

Your actions harmed and injured many. 

It makes me sick that you were okay, 

With this awful outcome, 

Of being a grim reaper. 

I hate that you probably, 

Wouldn’t have cared, 

Even if your cowardly death, 

Hadn’t worked. 

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill,

I wish you wouldn’t shoot. 

That the pandemonium and suffering, 

Your victims felt and discovered, 

Is something you didn’t experience on earth. 

I’m so angry that men like you, 

Choose weapons too available, to harm others. 

I’m so angry you ruined so many lives, 

I’m so angry you made a place, 

That once felt safe, 

Into a terrifying war zone. 

I’m so angry that the country, 

You caused your mayhem in, 

Has far too many gun related deaths. 

And I don’t know how to stop men like you, 

How a right to bear arms, 

Oversteps someone else’s right to live,

I can’t comprehend; 

But I heard the screams, the peppering of bullets, 

And it makes me want to cry. 

So upset you were okay with, 

The consequences of a heartless choice. 

That your inner demons, 

Got the best of you, 

In such a malevolent way.  

*****
I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t stab. 

I watched a terrorist ram a policemen’s car, 

Saw the policeman soar into the air, 

But he hadn’t any wings, 

For he was merely human. 

I watched you stab him too many times, 

And he was only doing his job. 

While another mad man, 

Ran down others. 

Tried to hurt them too.

And I wish you wouldn’t slice, 

Let blood trickle and flow. 

I wish you wouldn’t use a truck, 

As a weapon to injure, cause pain. 

But I cannot see into your mind, 

And I don’t know that anyone, 

Could have changed all your minds.

All I know is you all didn’t listen, 

To the conscience inside your head. 

All I know is your method of damage, 

Was a choice to do evil. 

*****

I wish you wouldn’t kill, 

I wish you wouldn’t shoot, 

That you’d dealt with your own turmoil, 

In a vastly improved method. 

I know that many people think, 

All people are generally good. 

But few realize being a good is a choice;

We’re not made that way, 

We learn to be good people. 

And too many choose to twist what’s good. 

And commit acts that are selfish and evil.

To many acts of terror, 

By lone men or terrorists. 

Too many opportunities, 

With access to weapons, 

Knives and guns, 

Defend your family as you must, 

But make it harder, 

So random men can’t do their evil,

Wound hundreds with bullets, 

In blood drenched mass murder. 

I wish you wouldn’t choose to kill, 

So we don’t hear the screams, the suffering, the dying, 

So the images don’t haunt us. 

Because it’s sickening that ever day people, 

Who appear like me you and me, 

Have a monster residing within them, 

Have made the choice to murder.

*****
I wish they wouldn’t kill, 

I wish they wouldn’t shoot, 

But I can’t see what was inside their minds. 

Because they looked like everyone else, 

Not a demon, a Lord Voldemort, or a Freddy Kruger. 

All I can send is my prayers to the broken, 

Those mourning and terrified. 

All I know is that some people choose, 

To be good people, 

And I have faith in God and them. 

All I know is that in the end, 

God will give every person justice, 

Justice that is eternal and right. 

And that someday on earth, 

We must learn to forgive

Not to become monsters, 

So we don’t commit terrifying evil too. 

*****

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved 

Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Free Verse, Health, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – “It’s a Fact of Life” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW September 5, 2017. 

Excuse the length. I saw the photograph and it fit my poem well. Since I’m still two weeks behind I don’t know that it matters 🙂 

——-

Credit: Artycaptures.wordpress.com

——-

When I visit here, 

It’s a fact of life. 

Blood drawn with tiny needles.

Some days they sting, 

Stringing out two seconds. 

Other days, the needle doesn’t register. 

It was a fact of life,

I had to visit here each week,

For the first six months. 

Then, every other week, 

Now each month the rest of my life. 

It’s a fact of life, 

So I don’t pay much attention. 

Facing away when the needle grazes, 

The same ‘good’ vein. 

Blueish-purple in my left arm, 

Silver-violet threads of blood vessels. 

Some months these needles bruise, 

Leave my skin raw and red; 

But If I’ve someone skilled,

There’s a slight indentation. 

Each month —

Babies crying concertos. 

An ominous feeling in the air. 

They’ve no choice —

But to know sharp pain. 

A poke stinging eternities of fire, 

For a wink in time. 

Wailing and —

The waiting room patients’ sigh. 

Then silence follows, 

The miniature massacre. 

Everyone checking, rechecking watches, 

Pulling out phones. 

Waiting for that sickening needle, 

Shuffling in seats,

Legs crossed and uncrossed. 

Glossy magazine pages turned, 

With frequent frustration. 

Toddlers running,

Mothers trying to calm them, 

Hushing their lively squeaks. 

I’m used to having blood drawn, 
Turning my head, 

Focusing on some object, 

Or a distant thought. 

There’s persistent pain as the needle pulls, 
My blood into the tube. 

Six to nine tubes today, 

Blood annexed for annual work. 

These tests burn —

Worse than the tattoo artist’s etching. 

Sketching out the black lines, 

Worse than her needle, 

Grazing repeatedly, 

Skin with vibrant colours. 

Back and forth movements, 
Calming and hushing,

Knowing what to expect and where. 

Conversation, music soothing, 

Then, the artist is done. 

Her needles leaving, 

A work of art behind. 

But the blood test needles ache worse. 

Similar to the last flu shot,

Some years not felt at all.

Other years a poke that —

Throbs all day. 

Despite praying the pharmacist,

Will slide the needle in,

Not deliver a death blow. 

Droplets of bright blood plop, 

To the stark white floor. 

She laughs, this never happens. 

Her mouth turns downward, 

Because you grimace, 

Squish your eyes shut counting the seconds;

Until the hurt dulls. 

She wonders why you wince, 

Why you’re so sensitive.

Says the swelling will fade, 

You’ll live, 

It’s a fact of life. 

It’s a matter of proper training, 

Slipping any needle in gently. 

Not jabbing and mincing, 

A persons veins or muscles. 

Yet still, a fact of life. 
But I remember being six and crying,

Fighting my mother, 

She was angry. 

Because I saw the needle, 

And refused. 

Today, the blood test needles are thinner. 

Adults can ignore them, right

Grit their teeth while the bloods, 

Ripped away, into a tube. 

It’s a fact of life. 

That some things are sharper and dig holes deeper, 

Than blood tests, flu shots, or tattoos. 

There is greater pain flowing from our insides,

If only the hurt could be drawn out as blood. 

If happiness, no worries, and no obligations —

Was all that remained behind. 

If only —

The tattoo artists colours, 

Garunteed you with fantastic health. 

And flu shots didn’t speak of fragility; 

Only the best humors in our blood. 

Gossamer strings supporting dreams. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

Fiction, Health, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: A Thousand Was Not Enough #fiction #amwriting #3LineTales


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

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Credit: Dev Benjamin via Unsplash

———-

Scattered in vivacious colors, a thousand was not enough, but would’ve a thousand paper cranes healed you, done anything? I guess they weren’t for you, they were for me, to keep my hands busy as your eyes glassed over and the pain meds kicked in; they stopped me from crying out from asking, why you didn’t even try to heal, for you, for me. I leaned over your bedside the paper cranes around us and you gave me a half grin with your dimpled cheek, somehow there when all other reserves of flesh were gone; then you were gone before I could  memorize your last smile. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: “Heart Break” #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday! 

——-

Credit: Jennifer Pallian

——–

Everything had to be perfect. Kayla didn’t want this to be a one time affair. It was 1:00 p.m., and Tye had awoken hearing noises in Kayla’s kitchen. 

He lumbered in, taking a seat at the island where Kayla had prepared a tray with ‘hair of the dog.’

“Morning Tye, you probably have a killer hang over at your age,” Kayla teased.

Tye drank both drinks from the tray. “Feeling much better now. Where’s your brother? Did he crash here too?”

“We, no Tye, it was just us. Christian stayed at Mimi’s last night.”

“He’s a lucky guy. Mimi’s a fine woman.”

Kayla frowned, “What about last night? Aren’t you a ‘lucky guy’ too, Tye?”

“What about it?”

“Does it mean anything to you? You told me you loved me.”

Tye was silent, “From the moment I saw you in that short black dress . . . I don’t remember much. I drank a lot. It can’t mean anything, Kayla, even if I’ve always had a thing for you. You’re Christian’s sister, he’d kill me.”

“Not if you actually loved me. If you felt the way I feel about you.”

“Doesn’t matter –”

“It does matter because I’m twenty eight-years old, a grown woman. If last night meant nothing, just say it. Because I’m damn sure you’re lying when you say you don’t remember.”

Tye rubbed his face his eyes dazed. He lumbered back to the bedroom and began dressing.

He wouldn’t look at her and Kayla confronted him, catching him off guard. She pushed him hard and kept pushing, attempting to get a reaction from Tye when he grabbed both her hands holding her still. 

“I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. You may have not loved me then, but I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since I turned twenty-five. You like me a lot and you know it,” Kayla cried. 

She struggled, but Kye wouldn’t let go of her hands. He pressed his lips to hers, brushing them back and forth before pulling back. “This can’t happen again, Kayla. You know that, I’m engaged.” 

” Lisa doesn’t love you. You don’t owe that harpy anything.”

“I do owe it to her, we’ve been together five years.”

Tyler brushed his thumb against her lips and let go of Kayla. He left her bedroom to put on his dress shoes at the front door. “I wish I could be with you. But Lisa’s pregnant. If I don’t marry her she’ll never let me see my daughter, ever.” 

Kayla blanched. She tried not to burst into a crying jag as she held her throat feeling her breath constrict. She gazed at Tye, “Please tell me I wasn’t just some girl you slept with.” 

“I wasn’t that drunk, Kayla. I lied. Last night meant the world, but that’s why we have to both forget it.”

The door shutting echoed long after Tye left. Tears dripped down her cheeks as Kayla sat on the floor, a ferocious pain eating her alive inside as she wept. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Music/ Sunday Photo Fiction: Ship to the Stairway #flashfiction #musicchallenge 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s music challenge, “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin 

——-

Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

——–

“Stairway to Heaven” – Led Zeppelin 

——–

“This will get us there, you’re sure?” Avery asked the Captain. Her hands shook and sweat beaded on her forehead. 

” Yes Madam, as I’ve told the other passengers, who are equally as persistent, this will take us to the first step.” 

“The Stairway to Heaven? I can’t believe it. It’s for real, isn’t it?” 

“Well, Madam Avery, that’s what you paid all your money for. This is the only ship that can take you there. We’ll arrive shortly. Ask a flight attendant to give you some pills to calm you down. Soon, you’ll never need medicine again.” 

“But, what’s at the top of the Stairway? Streets filled with glittering gold? No more crying and no more pain?” 

“When we’re there you’ll know. Have faith, Madam.” 

Avery looking pale and feeling dehydrated suddenly fainted. The whole idea of reaching Heaven by space ship seemed unimaginable. 

When she woke up she was lying on a soft bed. There was a gate formed of pure gold and silver. Two regal guards stood nearby. 

“You there, both of you, where is this? I was supposed to be in Heaven I paid a great deal of money to get there, ” Avery said. 

The guards chuckled, “Madam Avery, don’t you know the Stairway and Heaven itself cannot be bought by humans.” 

“But what am I doing here?” 

“Quiet now. You’re in processing, they’re trying to decide about you,” one guard said. 

“Decide what?” 

“If somewhere deep inside you know Heaven was purchased for you long ago. If you know who bought it,” the second guard replied. 

Avery stomped her foot, “I deserve what’s coming to me.” 

The first guard shook his heads,” Wherever you end up, Madam Avery, you can be sure of that.” 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, dVerse, Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Cascading Etherees – “Silhouettes and Blessings” #poetry #dVerse #amwriting #SaturdayMix 


Thanks to Paul Scribbles from the Poet’s Pub for hosting a #dVerse prompt reply on blessings. I’m combining this #dVerse prompt missed with last week’s Saturday Mix Prompt from Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie‘s Prompt on doing a silhouette poem

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Credit: Eden Hills

———–

They’re not completely obvious, often —

Difficult to find, shadowed in, 

Darkness, silhouettes hidden by, 

Electrifying light so, 

Tangerine-orange that —

All behind it is, 

Hidden, pitch black, 

They are masked, 

Easy to, 

Miss. 

—–

But, 

I know, 

You have them, 

Thankfulness for —

Blessings in disguise. 

Shadowed, hidden behind, 

Glaring light, such blaring noise, 

Searching carefully, you’ll find them, 

You’ll see all along what’s been taken, 

For granted, unrecognized blessings. 

—–

Sometimes they feel like curses, too much work, 

Then, seeing others suffer you think, 

Realize life’s not at all bad.

You’ve all your basic needs met, 

You’ve extra money for, 

Luxury and treats, 

You’re well cared for, 

God’s blessed you, 

So share, 

Give

—–

Be, 

Not mean, 

Or spiteful, 

To those who beg, 

They need a little —

Help; some food, money to —

Make it through the day and —

Eat; find a place to sleep and to, 

Clean up; they only want to be like us, 

Have their needs met, with the odd treat too.

——

If only we all counted are blessings, 

When we were richly cared for, when He, 

Made sure we made a living. 

Had money to survive. 

To buy little extras.  

To be comfortable, 

Provided for.  

We rest, they —

Shiver, 

Cold.

——-

They’re 

Hurting. 

But it’s more, 

Than the unloved —

Silhouettes. 

Never seen, covered by —

The light in the background scene, 

Never visible, dark, unseen, 

We miss seeing them these figures who’ll, 

Disappear in dark, when sun falls and sets.

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Rondeau - aaabba, aabR, aabbaR, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday’s Hunt: Poem – Rondeau – “Midnight Prayers” #amwriting #poetry #saturdayshunt


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix and prompting us to personify an emotion. I can’t quite identify this one, but I’ll try. 

——-

Credit: Edith Hill

——-

Midnight prayers, bitter sweet, such raw aches burn, 

Reconcile the words, reasons my heart hurts.  

Midnight prayers, pleading for courage, concerns —

Of broken-hearted lonileness which —

Cannot be hidden behind work and lists, 

Keep yourself busy, exhaustion, pleads yearn —

To lay back and rest, a moment to breathe, 

Finding being busy deeply deceives. 

Just one more moment, I can laugh and dream; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

Here my desires, my concerns, my needs,  

Teach me to follow, in pain believe. 

There has to be more to life than alone, 

More than suffering, tears and sleepless moans. 

There’s a silver lining in ripped seams; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Works Published, Writing

Published Poetry – Spillwords: Free Verse – ” You Can’t Take The Pain Away” #amwriting #poetry #spillwords


Good Morning! I’m sharing a new piece of poetry. It hasn’t been published on my blog until now. Spillwords Press graciously published another one of my poems. Check them out at http://www.spillwords.com to publish some your best poetry and other writing. Here’s today’s poem: You Can’t Take the Pain Away

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Credit: http://www.spillwords.com

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© Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Deserved.