#NaPoWriMo Day 19/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Haibun — “Forest Thoughts” #amwritingpoetry #amwritingfiction


For NaPoWriMo Day 19, my own poem. Also, thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge.


Credit: Mindcore


The words were caught in Genevieve’s throat, and she couldn’t let go. It was as if a force shield quivered, blocking her. She couldn’t push through and recoiled when her attempts sputtered. She shoved and stumbled through the bubble walls. Finally, there was nothing stopping her speech, tears that wouldn’t stop as she trembled with nerves. Her and Gage had had another messy fight. She was left tearful and scatter brained.

Genevieve brushed poppy hair from her eyes. She twirled a strand and repeated the words. “I’m going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. Someday soon, everything will be alright.”

She ached, exhausted, as her thoughts slipped and tossed. What was her opinion worth if Gage didn’t respect it? If her thoughts meant nothing as sand swirling into the wind, words lost. Then, past inklings of Gage’s kindness trickled into her mind. It wasn’t only his fault, it was hers too.

She blinked as water droplets splashed her face. The sky opened and nature healed her, soaked her clothes through. She knew her wounds would no longer bleed, not for a long time. She could handle Gage; she could handle ‘them.’

In retrospective she realized that the pain of silence after fighting was necessary. That mulled over words and nights of blank introspection had their purpose too. As Medusa’s locks turned to snakes, so Genevieve’s thoughts hissed and slithered. She might be a Medusa sometimes, but Gage didn’t care; they were each other’s monsters.

Near home, she curled on the old oak in the copse, thinking about how much time people wasted in anger and regret. Like she, most people said nothing at all, when the most significant words were so simple.

Genevieve thought about how grudges and long held hurts were nothing more than dust –ashes. But, they were meaningless in the scheme of life because, life wasn’t about who’s right. It’s not about words misread and mis-said. Life was about not wasting time upset over details.

She clenched her hands, then breathed deep as she drifted a moment, and shivered. The downpour hadn’t been cold but her teeth chattered now. She’d walked off from Gage sometime ago, needing time in the copse to think.

Then, a sting on her cheek made her jump; the mosquitos were out. Behind her the sky was grey tinged with coral. The night creatures’ scurried in the dark and Genevieve sighed. The cool air was medicine and she inhaled it, no matter that she had to wrap her arms around herself.

She hummed, and thought more about the words she hadn’t said, and the ones she had said to Gage. The words that hurt, and that said the wrong way caused pain. You could turn the maybes and what if’s around in your mind, and even though no one should say certain words — people made mistakes; her and Gage worst of all.

She shuddered again as the night air cooled more. Genevieve headed home from the copse, and the sky darkened to starlit-navy. Hours after their fight she recognized it wasn’t about what was said; it was about what a person’s actions proved.

That was a truth; perhaps, one beyond words. It was a realization that fear of the worst brings all humans to their knees, but that there was still hope. It was possible for all those tainted fights to fade, for partners to reunite. She peered around the dim as she trudged through the wet grass. Genevieve was un-afraid, she’d visited this copse many nights. She breathed in cedar, and the dampness of rain. She took her soggy hoodie and tried to squeeze out water. She pulled it tighter.

“We’re okay now.” She said it aloud because it was real. It wasn’t a faint hope as before. It was conceivable. She was no longer a medusa, but had discovered a self-confidence. Confidence that overcame her doubts, her pain of Gage’s words.

Genevieve had thought her walk private, until a rounded squirrel ran in front of her and stopped. He was wet too, but didn’t seem to care as droplets shook from his fur. He cocked his head towards her in the moonlight.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleep up high?” The squirrel chirped and scuttled closer. She reached into her purse, and the squirrelly froze waiting to see what she reached for. She tossed a small carrot, and the squirrel clenched it; he devoured it. After, finishing his first treat, the squirrel scuttled closer. She moved a second carrot around in the air like an old chalk-pen.

“You see, squirrel. The worst happens, and then in the thick of it, your mind opens, and everything’s okay — everything’s okay. Those past fights, bitter words mean nothing. All these fears you have burn away. Whatever the past, it’s no longer relevant. Trust me squirrel.” He chirped in demand, and she knelt babe held out the carrot. He nudged it from between her fingers and bundled it away as he scampered up the nearest tree.

She clutched her purse and stretched as grayish clouds slid over the moon As she neared the path to the cabin porch. Her fight with Gage was done. Genevieve thought about how sometimes, the world spun too fast, how time sped. But, she knew Gage would forgive her and she forgave him too. She shivered but jogged close as the cabin came into view. She emerged from the copse a new woman.

When she reached the top porch step, she halted. Gage lay half asleep on the porch swing. He had waited for her. Her hands shook as she sat beside him, and covered them both with a thick blankets from a storage bench. She’d pulled off her soaked shoes and sweater, the rest of her was half dry.

Genevieve snuggled into Gage’s shoulder. As sleep claimed her she thought about how life was a mosaic of possibility. It altered and spun into a world that never ceased to amaze. It didn’t matter that sometimes it ached. It mattered that for seconds, the aches ebbed to nothing but her and Gage asleep beneath the stars.

Asleep on the swing they rest,

Thoughts of hurt drift in peace found;

Heals the deepest wounds.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

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Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – Rictameter – “A Story of Change” #amwriting #poetry #MLMM


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the SWP, a collage prompt.


Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie


Twisted,

Fractured due to —

Difficulties life wrought.

Damage cracked; leather skin, lips torn,

He aches for sleep, to wash, and renew himself.

To slay his hideous demons,

They haunt him, every step.

No rest, he’s too —

Twisted.

*****

Life once,

Satisfied; free —

For him to chose his trails,

To beam in personal glories.

Life’s pinnacle, his wild dreams, finally,

Found fruition; until he fell,

Soul keening in ash.

No desire for —

Life once.

*****

Vivid,

Morado hues;

As yesterday’s wrongs haunt;

No escaping his palled fears.

Thinks he can’t measure up as he once did.

Bitter life’s high-points cost him dear.

Voice silenced, will fading;

Ashamed; his pain,

Vivid.

****

Balance,

Distorted as —

He slurps canned food, silver —

Cutlery from his Nan, most sold to live.

Survival his concern, laughter gone;

He’s wilted, rose petals of dust, a ghost;

No will, no path, hope to —

Restore life’s old,

Balance.

*****

To God,

Man weathered prays,

Forgetting God hears, listens —

To fervent Hail Mary’s, begging for —

A chance, an opportunity.

To find life beyond dusty roads, his bike;

Seeking grand possibilities.

To have life flourish once,

More, reaching to —

To God.

*****

Sweet rain,

Soaks him fast.

A shower well needed,

He’s determined for renewal.

Trims off his wild beard, foam heals;

Now, his plans are clear; he blossoms.

Back home she’s thrilled; he’s here —

Returned; her own —

Sweet rain.

*****


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 16/ Tale Weavers: Poem – Bop – “Snake Oil Please” #poetry #amwriting #taleweavers #MLMM


For NaPoWriMo Day 16 the Prompt is: “to write a poem that prominently features the idea of play.” I’m combining with Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver Prompt about Making Sense of Nonsense in which Adder’s Milk Snake Oil is the focus.

—–

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

—-

Genuine Snake oil

Guaranteed Cure-All

Rub it in, take a spoonful each morning,

Infuse it in your tea.

Guaranteed Success and Instant Relief of all and any disease you might have.

——

Snake oil how absurd; think it will me cure?

Ma, can I go outside, do you concur?

Must I remain in bed? Same old card games;

I’ve played Spades each day, now I long for rain.

To jump in puddles, to soak myself wet,

Not to cough, wheeze — I hear snake oil’s the best.

It can heal the deepest wounds and relieve —

My greatest foes, both my lungs that less breathe;

Each and every day, my breath it thickens,

Other cures you give, they’re all pain ridden.

I want to go outside, play marbles and run,

Fast and hard, race the other boys for fun.

Let me free to shoot cans, snake oil can do that;

It will let me live my dreams at last.

Mom, do you hear me? Boil it in my tea.

Rub it on my chest, the soles of my feet.

I’ll no longer cough-up red, then I’ll soar;

My devotions are all read, so I implore.

Just pour it down my throat, then I’ll breathe,

Fresh spearmint air; snake oil for me, please.

—-

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Olaf’s Thoughts #amwriting #3LineTales #flashfiction


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


Credit: Jacco Rienks via Unsplash


Olaf lifts his head as the droplets wet his snout and soak into his umber hair. He snorts searching for that sharp scent; a mildewy-humid aroma that hangs in the air ensuring tomorrow will be sweltering. Olaf moos as above him the brilliant azure turns a threatening purple-black onyx; then, it arrives, not droplets but sheets of intense downpour that soak through his coat, massaging his soar muscles. He flicks out his tongue, lapping up the rain that is life to him such as the sweet verdant grass that nourishes his body, providing both serenity and security of life.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales/ Saturday Mix: Pricelessly Worthless #3LineTales #SaturdayMix #flashfiction #amwriting


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. Thanks to Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix’s double take prompt using the words presence – the state of being present/ presentsgifts and holy – with religious significance/holey – perforated, with holes/ and wholly – fully, completely.


Credit: Emily Mortar via Unsplash


The variegated violet sky was an odd site in winter as rain was dangerous this time of year, an ominous icey presence; Jane turned the ring her boyfriend Finn had given her as a Christmas present and her engagement ring. His holy and reverent attitude towards his Great-Grandmother’s wedding ring was strange, Jane thought, as she gazed at the large gleaming diamond and the holey pinpoints around the central diamond filled with tiny white diamonds too. She turned back to the window, staring at the sky outside and recalled telling Finn that all she wanted was a small purple diamond; Jane did not desire this heavy weight of history and duty that hurt her finger; it made the love she once wholly felt for Finn feel cheap and worthless — her preferences did not matter to him, she realized they never would.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Saturday Mix: Poem – Cinquins – ” We Love” #SaturdayMix #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to Sarah of WeeJars from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting SaturdayMix (September 16, 2017) with her opposing forces theme and  – first and last, and – beginning and end as antithetical statements  in our writing. Words that are the anthesis of the other or opposite words.

——-

Credit: Pablo Heimplatz via Unsplash

——

We’re all, 

My end and all —

My beginnings too, 

My life revolves around us both, 

We’re all. 

—–

Unique, 

We’re each other’s —

Light at the days endings, 

We’re companions in night’s dark

Unique. 

—–

We’ve quenched

Each other’s thirst

For life, we hold on, we fight —

We’ve fully drunk all life provides, 

We’re quenched

——

We love, 

In rain, beneath, 

A blackened sky’s loud storm, 

We love when the sun shines warmly, 

We love. 

—-

We’re one,

Until the last, 

We’re fire that bound us at —

First, that won’t die, ever glowing 

We’re one. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction/Taleweaver:  The Down Pour #flashfiction #taleweaver #amwriting 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weaver #137 on the theme of opening and what that word could mean. Also, thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction September 10, 2017. 

———

Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

———

Min peered at the downpour outside her front window. The rain added to the river’s violent movements beneath her house. 

When she and her son, Sam had moved here, Min hadn’t thought the river below them was dangerous. She’d believed the quiet river had brought her serenity. It’s gentle babble once opened Min’s mind to dreaming. 

However, later that night the river water was at the bottom of Min’s house. She groaned when water began trickling in over the wood floor and carpets. 

“We have to leave now,” Min told Sam, “The water keeps climbing and if we leave it too long we’ll be trapped on the roof.” 

Sam tried his mom’s cellphone. “The cell towers are down so we can’t even call for help. We shouldn’t have stayed, Mom. We should’ve left days ago.” 

Min rubbed Sam’s shoulder before they both grabbed their pre-packed bags rushing out the front door. They had no choice but to wade through water that was hip deep. They sloshed down the bridge/walkway created between all the house’s built above the river. 

When Min and Sam had reached higher ground away from their neighborhood, they sighed collapsing on cots in a school where some of the city’s refugees had began gathering. The river water had been up to Min and Sam’s neck before they had been able to climb uphill, away from the bridge. 

Thank God they had taken the opportunity to leave when they did. Having a moment to spare Min stepped outside and prayed her thanks beneath the open sky and endless rain. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Music Challenge: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – “Those Pink Sunglasses” #dverse #poetry #musicchallenge 


Thanks to Lillian of #dVerse Poet’s Pub for the September 12, 2017 prompt onto use the words rain, reign, rein in a poem. Also combining this prompt with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie last Music Challenge with the song “Pink Sunglasses” by Miranda Lambert. Going for the triple threat with Bjorn’s Bjorn’s #dVerse Poet’s Pub prompt on using an extended, well known metaphor without “like” or “as.” I’m going to pick up on Miranda Lambert’s metaphor of “pink sunglasses” which I think very much overlaps with wearing “rose colored glasses.” 

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Credit: Pinterest.com

——-

Miranda Lambert “Pink Sunglasses” 

——

Rein in your white horses, the Queen of Pink’s going to reign 

She’s pretty classy, kind of sassy, in a bubblegum way. 

All around her is dreary pain, 

She doesn’t blink or feel the rain

Pouring down, plastering her —

See-through t-shirt, guys inferring, 

More than needs saying about her — bright pink sunglasses worn, 

Her way to see the world, the old rose glasses cracked, ignored. 

——

Pink is so much better, forget about rainy weather, 

Giggle, leave behind the tragic, drink pink champagne whether —

You’re sad or too glad, pink masks —

Ironies, truth is, life is glass

It shatters far too easily, 

Rose lenses dimmed as pink’s appeased. 

Cause you can buy plastic pink sunglasses to view the world, 

For $9.99 they’re so easy to replace, cheap pearls. 

——-

Appearing in my pocket when I go anywhere ’cause —

There’s power in plastic pink shades, curing the bad that was. 

Put them on when people are mad, 

Wear them when you’re feeling quite sad. 

Ignore naysayers without the pink, 

Bringing rude negative thinking. 

These pink babies don’t shatter or crack, if they do buy more —

Best placebo I’ve had while out loving life exploring. 

—–

Don’t care about the truth, reality is annoying

I’ll pass by you dancing ’cause without pink, life quickly destroys. 

Addicted to living with thick —

Sweet sugar coating of plastic. 

Through the pink I see what I want, 

And I do whatever and I flaunt. 

Rose glasses go away, pink is brighter, it doesn’t fade, 

My shades, wearing them I reign unafraid, I’ve got it made 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 15 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Italian Sonnets – “Unbirthday Hell En Medias Res” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #taleweavers


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write poem in the middle of things en medias res. The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Quote is for the letter N. The Tale Weavers Prompt courtesy of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie is to write about an unbirthday. 

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Credit: Not on The HighStreet Enterprises – http://www.notonthehighstreet.com

——–

I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. — Pablo Neruda

———

Serve me tea and cut the cake quickly please,

Ensure my tea is cold with no odd hares. 

Or rabbit fur, or door mouse flees their. 

My unbirthday, she is here — the tease

She comes most everyday to say ‘breathe!’ 

You’re not old yet, many unbirthdays left,

Hold your years close to your beating chest.

You look like twenty-five, oh please

Each and everyday there is chocolate cake, 

Loud parties; a mad hatter who is weird,

Yes, the craziesness gets to me some days.

The party is brilliant, but I always peer,

For an escape home en medias res. 

Alice is happy with one birthday day. 

——–

So back to the town, back to my hills, 

No more unbirthdays? Mind left reeling;

Alice’s leaving Wonderland? Sad feeling. 

Pictures on walls here are hung straight — be still, 

To think on leafy forests dear, woods filled. 

The voice of the rain as it falls and it glows, 

But I’m too drawn to rabbit holes at will. 

Back amidst glamorous parties thrown, 

Having left peace a mere second ago, 

The town brook,  seems a mellenia’s dream.

Same crew in Wonderland serving tea. 

Too hot, too cold, to much cake makes me grow, 

Back to unbirthday hell — un medias res. 

——-


——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 5 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – A L’Arora – “Steps To Eternity” #amwriting #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge


For Day 5, the NaPoWriMo poetry prompt is ” to write a poem that is based in the natural world: it could be about a particular plant, animal, or a particular landscape. But it should be a slice of the natural world that you have personally experienced and optimally, one that you have experienced often.” The accompanying A to Z Challenge today starts with a GoodRead’s author’s quote, with a name beginning with the letter E.


Forest Pathway NaNo
Credit: http://www.combiboilersleeds.com

“I’d rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.” ― Emma Goldman


*****

Down the path of foliage, between all the trees,

It’s where I find my space, my home sweet home.

There’s something about crisp green leaves,

Wet after the rain, while the dew clings, not letting go.

With road passing through, steps to eternity,

Enthrall me in summer’s breath, the scent of the morning,

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

Tree branches entwining, limbs gripped with passion,

Used to the presence of parallel lovers.

They’re completely attached, unwilling to let go,

Nymphs holding fast, enraptured with each other,

With the road passing through, steps to eternity, 

Absorbing the thrill of the mid-summer fairy dance.

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

Some brilliant reckless person crafted this road,

Travelers speeding through trees, guarding the sacred path.

Some pause knowing they’ve discovered sanctuary,

Freedoms breeze, they’ll stop to admire the sentinels guarding.

With the road passing through, steps to eternity,

A place where verdant nature, holds a secret prosperity.

Let me stay in mother nature, her security.

*****

For hours I’ve wandered through lush trees,

Delicate roses growing, shadowed by dripping leaves.

Overcome am I, by epic beauty, of roses sweetly pink,

Crushing them in my hands, to absorb the memories.

With the road passing through, steps to eternity.

Inhaling the fragrance of aspiring life, in roses soft,

Let me stay in mother nature, her security. 

*****

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.