Photo Challenge: Poem – Blitz – “Returning” #amwriting #poetry 


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

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Credit: Mario Gervals

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Aurora-borealis paints the sky

Hues of light to charm

Charm the cold from old man winter’s grasp

Charm the sky hovering, colours delightful still

Still as the snow when it stops

Still as the young man in the living room

Room in a home where he’s troubled 

Room of the television — loud sports

Sports of the freezing weather

Sports loved best

Best loved is hockey

Best loved he watches, engrained 

Engrained in the screen

Engrained in the game 

Game on and he misses his wife as she drives away

Game of his wife searching for time

Time ended when she him left 

Time is new for her; he doesn’t care now

Now she moves on 

Now she is but thrilled

Thrilled, yet in a storm she drives

Thrilled to have escaped without another fight 

Fights always happen

Fights which got worse, never stopped

Stopped when she rethought her life

Stopped when she said, “I’m gone” 

Gone while the new sliver of a TV loudly plays

Gone, he knows it it, feels depressed

Depressed at the mess of his life

Depressed, slight lines etched into his face

Face with red eyes

Face with mouth stifling sobs

Sobs because she’s gone for good

Sobs because she gazed at him appalled

Appalled because he always yelled

Appalled because he’s why ‘they’re finished

Finished forever, she’s free

Finished, but she’s not safe in such a blizzarding storm

Storm outside flinging snow in his face

Storm outside, her car didn’t make it far

Far off and tired the look in her eyes

Far off but tears streaming ’cause she’s stuck 

Stuck in the bank of snow 

Stuck in her life, no escape

Escape life here, without him?

Escape yet, she’s glad, for her, he came 

Came, so she takes him back; he understands now

Came, so they return to times where they showed

Showed love, affection where no distance divides 

Now acts of love, little things, change the future

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Three Line Tales: Life of A Native-American Tribe’s Woman


Thank you to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting 3 Line Tales:


tipi's indians
Maher El Aridi

1.The stars are dazzlingly brilliant in the inky-dark sky; through the small circle of space in the top of my families tipi, I feel the warm summer air breathing down on me; tomorrow is another day of rigorous work for the women of our tribe, we tan animal hides, gather fruit and nuts, and smoke our meat into pemmican.


2. The men will be off hunting in the morning; chasing the deer, buffalo, rabbits, foxes, and any animal which will provide us food presently, and in the winter months; the braves bring the animals to the woman and we skin the animal’s of their fur; the men will sell some of our beautiful soft fur to white-man traders; some of the furs we’ll keep for ourselves for in winter, so we won’t freeze to death;


3.When our braves hunt, our tribe prays for the animal spirits and we ask mother-earth to be kind to us and take the animal spirits; though we eek our living from nature, we always give her thanks; sunlight filters through the hole in the tipi and my mother starts a fire;  I aid my mother with the morning meal sighing as smoke obscures the hole in the tipi; there are days I feel, life is only a trap and I will never see the blue-sky.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.