#NaPoWriMo Day 21/Sunday Writing: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (1) – “The Unmaking of A Dream” #amwriting #poetry #mythology #MLMM


For Day 21 of NaPoWriMo the prompt is: “based on the myth of Narcissus. After reading the myth, try writing a poem that plays with the myth in some way.”

Combining with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt based on the title The Unmaking of A Dream.


Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie


Narcissist so loved himself first,

Blond hair, chiseled jaw, self-love burst.

Down by the pool, his special place —

He dreams of his attractive face.

He can’t find one person with grace–

Enough to see, they’re not on par.

He’s been granted magnificence; his looks they compel,

Admiration from men and women; he loves but himself.

*****

Liriope his mother so gorgeous,

Son of river god, Cephisesus.

Brave hunter disdainful of love,

To proud to care for anyone.

Such was his vainness, he upset —

Nemesis; doesn’t regret —

His reflection, his greatest lust; adrift selfish and vain,

He resents sweet Echo’s presence, her heart aching, her pain.

*****

Some say the nymph she dwindled,

Echo Narcisse’s swindled.

“Leave me alone,” his haughty —

Tone made her stomach squirm, distraught.

She begged, she blathered, she touched him;

But he threw off her hands, voice grim,

She echoed his words; he was entranced in his visage;

No mirror, but a pool’s reflection made Echo livid.

*****

No, the rude hunter did not fade,

Nor waste away with longing gaze.

Echo did not wander until her —

Melodic voice was gone — unheard.

Stomping her foot in anger’s blaze,

She clutched Narcisse’s Hair enraged;

Drowning him in love-lorn grief; a pool of dreams his final grave,

Nemesis concurred, the hunter was best dead; self-love decayed.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes December Part One #quotes #pinterest


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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Tankas – “Nooked” 


http://www.yourtango.com
———-

You damaged me,

 Running into me that night.

Long ago laughing.

I embraced you on sight and, 

I wasn’t even nervous.

——

You cut into me, 

There’s no way from damage I —

Could recover now, 

Hit by navy eyes, 

Broken by your smile.

——

You made me bleed-out, 

As we became much closer, 

You were my steady–

Rock; my foundation solid, 

I believed in you, in us.

—–

You may as well have, 

Torn out my heart from my chest, 

Such trouble you gave, 

Sipping kisses from my lips, 

Arguing stopped; more blissing.

——

Your cure all for all, 

The sadness, the splintered soul, 

Holding me tight when, 

Love’s making halted a while,

Caring how you made me feel.

——-

Your worst crime is your, 

Deception; how I pass you —

And you see my eyes, 

Smarting still from being blind,

Brittle pieces tapped together.

—–

Stabbed by your bass voice, 

Whispering pleas, in dark.

Searching for the truth.

Finding only that you killed me, 

As you loved; the little death.

——

Smothering with fondness,

Never realizing love needs, 

Space to grow, flourish.

Became suffocating your, 

Word, your constant touch beloved.

—–

I died inside with, 

Prayers falling from lips you, 

Bit last torrid night.

If space could give me freedom, 

You’d agree, find the solution.

—–

Should we continue,

Though I know you love me dear, 

I’ll die fast smothered, 

Let us both relax in light.

You near, touching me, all times.

——

Let us both breathe from, 

The days we both couldn’t be, 

Five seconds apart, 

Let us be even closer,

Distance, draws a deeper love

——

Reflection as we, 

Seek skin and curves and muscles.

Beautiful to be close.

Never ever far away, 

Face in your neck; nooked near.

——

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Doubles – Couplets – ” Considering My Mirror Image” 


  

And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Because today marks the halfway point in our 30-day sprint, today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates the idea of doubles. You could incorporate doubling into the form, for example, by writing a poem in couplets. Or you could make doubles the theme of the poem, by writing, for example, about mirrors or twins, or simply things that come in pairs. Or you could double your doublings by incorporating things-that-come-in-twos into both your subject and form. Happy writing!

Please see NaPoWriMo for more information. Today’s poem will be written in Couplets.

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http://www.momtastic.com

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A paradox of seeing self in my grey eyes,

A confusing being desiring beauty prize.

Finding uniqueness without gazing into mirror, 

Unsure of my own reflection, revere her? 

Looking glass reveals, beauty is so differing.

Reflection in mirror, me staring, lingering.

Double in the glass appearing in reality,

Unsure what to say, we don’t agree, no clarity.

Do I adore how my double appears to look? 

Image of woman, how she is, open lost book.

So, many ways I try improving her reflection.

She looks, how she does, not ideal perfection.

I’m at peace with her, still changing her direction.

Mirror image God formed but I’ll alter complexion,

Skincare, makeup adored, new image each morning,

My inspection of self leaving me yet forming,

The double of my mirror, only me conforming,

Looking fatigued, woman who’s stuck performing.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101 – Reflection – “Mirrors”


Your eyes are a reflection of your soul it is said; but if you’ve seen pitch black-brown eyes, you know they can be the kindest gentle eyes.

People used to be afraid of their reflection — much like our pets. The authorities thought using mirrors was vanity as the Puritans had no mirrors.  But I can think of many instances having a mirror would be handy.

It was thought that your left hand was evil, especially if you were left handed. Because the right hand mirrors the left, the left was to be watched.

People used to look at themselves in surfaces that shone and reflected a person’s image back. Glass has not been around so long so we used metals that when shiney gave a reflection.

When mirrors came about, they were put in every place you could think of. On the table, the wall, and on the ceiling. Where can you escape your reflection when it is always mirrored.

And when you do sit down and think, for some self – reflection, does your self reflect your heart or soul? Are you living the life you want to?

And with “selfies” and mirrored surfaces at every place we go. Does our appearance always measure up? Did we leave lipstick on our teeth? Or cut our face during shaving?

I think there’s a bit too much reflective surfaces if I may say so myself. I think we are a bit vain as we look at ourselves in every mirrored surface we can. Perhaps, if we reflected more on the inside our bodies would reflect something greater — something kind.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Absolut Apeach – with Song and Dance


I don’t know what the future holds, it’s vapour and ash in the palm of my hand. I try to tell myself, time will tell, but my thoughts are a muse that inspires; the present feels like I’m singing an epicedium, a word that has meaning to mourn;

It’s so challenging to be sitting here and waiting for the funeral to end; hello, Adele, can you hear me crank up something with a beat and dancing feet will swarm. I am looking for that lamp that always guides my feet, to take me out of depressing hymns and into the feelings of the warm breath of dawn, and life, and being a part of something outside myself and my musings. 

Sing a cheerful song, grab a partner and make a connection, a reflection in the looking glass; the print of today’s paper is bigger, but so was last night’s complications, corrections, don’t be so dull or forlorn. I am waiting for such answers, a teacher marking tests, never finding the perfect words, until one student finally understands the form. And with all of this frantic writing, we need translation we need more words, slang, and hyperbolation is the night’s score;

A rhythm finally knocking, some tapping, the sound of a thousand voices humming, to the typing of a sentence, say the right words, let learning explode. Implosions are the stars delight, it implies a meaning that can be found, in the exestential crisis explained by all this science; faith is not only one word.

And you might go hopping quietly down the rabbit hole, but drink the tea and eat the cakes, now your bonkers it’s too late; in all the madness, and hats that we wear in life, to let the mouse out of the tea pot and bring peace to so much, guiless sneaks evil, in the form of mockery, and jesting — it’s just a joke that a cat can only understand.

If we pick up some beats, will slumber cease, can I find some elaboration? One time, on hellos, and goodbyes. I’m not coming back, the grass is greener here. Don’t you know that’s not always just some saying, to keep people from being escapists and running to the otherside.

Ground at our boots, lets let the melody unfold in loops, candy canes on parade, no Christmas yet; there’s snow to make us tremble, the semblance of the night is roughly raging and you can’t just go inside you need to stay and improvise; it’s a party for the roaring of the singing voices, and those that dance suggested.

I implore you listen and read into the gestures made awkwardly by the person talking; can you think for yourself, see the truth in motions, not emotion, that could be fake; no liars here, they can disappear. They are oblivious to these simple truths we hold so dear, keep the bell ringing for tonight we gain a truth; instead of lies, it’s a surprise, now appear. Bow low before the crowd you’ve enchanted with a voice so clear.

Photography 101 – Day 17 – Glass


One of the most important things about glass is it’s reflective quality, especially with light. It’s the reason why looking in the mirror has such an appeal. The mirror shows us a reflection of ourselves. Light shimmers in the mirror casting a strange glow. Glass reflects light itself and glass reflects other lights. When we reflect on ourselves what do we see, what do we see in our own reflections? Are we scared to see what is reflected or do we see in our reflections something special?

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Writing 101 – Ann and David’s House (from A Letter to Ann)


www.prudencefish.blogspot.com
http://www.prudencefish.blogspot.com

Ann left David’s beautiful 3 story 19th Century house as fast as she could.

She had always loved that house, loved how such history could be preserved and updated. She loved the wrap around porch where David and her had often sat on the outdoor couches and talked about their days, talked about their lives, and what they dreamed of doing in the future together.

She remembered how David had one day in the warm summer, strung up Christmas lights all around the porch and proposed marriage to her one night at sunset. She smiled as she remembered how they had sipped expensive champagne and gorged on gourmet chocolate in utter happiness and joy. Ann had sad “yes,” to David’s proposal and David had taken her in his arms and held her and Ann had felt that she was the most precious person in the world to David. That night had become part of their history and their future, or so Ann had thought.

She loved David’s house, their home. The cozy kitchen had been opened up and outfitted with the most updated appliances where David and her both laughed and cooked. She adored the master bath with its big claw foot tub where she would lie back and unwind after a particularly tense day at the office. She loved the large king sized bed where David and her could both stretch out and sleep without Ann pushing David to the corner of the bed as she spread out in the night. Ann adored waking up to David among soft, thick, and grey sheets and snuggling into him. On most mornings she would roll to David’s side of the bed and wake to kisses and busy hands.

The house had character as the people who inhabited it. Ann often felt the house was a reflection of herself more then David. The soft blue-grey walls in the bedroom were the color of her eyes, understanding and observant. The color and passionate art around the house were a mirror of her inner character, the way she felt around David. Her soft pink lips were the color of some slippery silk pillows in the living room, plush and welcoming. The color of her tanned skin was the same color as the comfy lazy boy David liked to relax in. Just as David was comfortable in that leather chair she was comfortable in her own skin.

The stalwart and geometric construction of the house were also a mirror image of her character steady and firm in her beliefs, something she was proud about herself for being, something David loved about her. The rounded furniture on the patio was a reflection of her body, one she was proud of. She kept her body in shape by running the paths that wrapped around the park in the area, yet as that plush furniture, her body still held a curvaceous shape. Walking away from David’s house felt as if Ann was walking away from herself.

David chased her down as she began the walk to her empty little condo 4 blocks away. “Stay,” he begged, “stay Ann, that little receptionist in their means nothing to me. She came here last night and I let her stay because her boyfriend was beating on her. I couldn’t  kick her out if he was doing that to her, Cameal, had bruises all over arms and legs…”

Ann pursed her pink lips, “She wants to separate us. That little red-head she’s always flirting with you at work and then I see her at your house? What am I a saint? How could I not think that she’s moving in on you after I find that letter right by your place? How could I not think you were sleeping with her after you were sleeping with me, when she shows up at your house and after all the attention you give her?”

“It’s not her I love,” David said making sure he caught Ann’s blue eyes, ” I don’t feel a thing for her, I just felt compassion for her problems. I thought she was just one of those flirty girls at work. I didn’t think she would actually show up at my door and I didn’t think well, that she could have possibly written that letter.”

” But nothing makes sense to me Ann, she wants you to leave, she’s doing it on purpose. I told her to find a friend’s house to stay at tomorrow night. She was hitting on me and when I turned her down she smacked me and makeup from one of the bruises came off on my face. She made the whole boyfriend hitting her story up, the bruises were fake, and I told her that it was inappropriate for her to be at our home any longer.” Ann sighed.

” I’m just not sure what to believe now David. I need to think.” David looked down to the pavement where he stood. He ran a frustrated hand through his inky air. He took Ann’s hand and kissed the diamond on her ring finger. “Remember this,” he said softly and left Ann to walk home alone in thought to her empty condo.