Collage Prompt: Poem – Cascading Etheree – “The Inner Child” #amwriting #poetry 


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

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie; Bottom Right – Jeremiah Morelli

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You might think it peculiar to let kids,

Be small, to let them be silly, weird,

When most of their life is spent in,

‘Adulting,’ learning how to,

Be big, responsible,

I say as Auntie:

Let them be them,

Creative,

Full of,

Fun.

——

Let,

Them be,

Wild beings,

Think of stories,

Imaginative,

And implausible, but —

Believe them because you’re,

Playing along, taller tales,

Demonstrate creativity,

For kids, it keeps them young, growing older.

——

Think of tilting towers, Big Ben in blue –

Green prairie sky, a storm brought him here.

But he bends, tilts just because and,

Storm brought along a grand,

Gothic cathedral roof,

Pointed top I’m sure —

Missed somewhere; hot —

Air balloon,

Holds our,

Dreams.

—–

Where,

We live

With such rich,

Possibility.

Imagining,

Tall towers floating in,

Moon lit skies, princesses,

Saving themselves, jumping from,

Clouds, the moon indeed smiling so proud,

Girls and boys — escape from their own towers.

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Locked fortresses floating, new challenge,

Escaping by flying pirate ships old,

Never turning back to the light,

Of a trapped home, wishing most,

To be little, secure,

Not worry about,

A dragon’s fire,

A port in,

Mid-air,

Light.

—–

Sought,

In night’s,

Binding grip,

All children search,

For understanding,

A hug and kiss when they’re lost,

Hurt, or at least a safe place works.

For home; mom’s gentle touch when,

Nightmares thrive; become to real, kids hide;

But parents are there, provide a haven.

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So encourage kids to harness their,

Creativity, to paint and draw,

To find their passions in life, so —

Maybe they can live them too.

Or find a haven in,

Their talents, their skills,

Urging away,

Stress; relief,

‘Cause life,

Hurts.

—–

So,

We teach,

Live your dreams,

Let them unwind

You; be as free as

Butterflies; don’t be tacked,

To a board on the wall kept.

Fly lovely, safe, remembering,

Humanity is indeed so —

Delicate at times; you’re not invincible.

—–

But in the power of the imagination,

You can always escape the threads,

Binding you to reality.

You can have liberty,

Smile, eat your cake too,

And hopefully,

Your partner,

The one who,

Loves you,

Most.

—–

Has,

Their own,

Inner child,

Understands and,

Knows, love is gentle,
Love is fiery, bold,

Love and creativity,

Both hold; let you be dauntless, free,

Full of life, security to —

Be held; be wild both as adult and child.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Friday Fictioneer: Lying In The Grass #amwriting #nonfiction #flashfiction #fiction #philosophy 


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.

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Credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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I’m lying in the summer grass. Above me the sky appears as if the heavens are opening. Perhaps brilliant marshmallow clouds behold some greater being, a creator with vision and design? There has to be more to humanity than our randomness in the world. I think that we all have a place, a reason, a purpose. We aren’t accidental and are made specifically to be ‘us.’

It’s a relief the hot sun is blocked by the clouds but I can see the light peeking through as if the sky has provided me an inkling of celestial luminescence. But maybe the sky is only the sky and I’m personifying my beliefs and feelings? But then, maybe faith and the existence of God is demonstrated most superbly by the the earth, nature, and tiny glimpses of gloriousness seen lying in the grass.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo – Day 14 – Villanelle – “Fighting to Heal” #amwriting #poetry


Prompt Day 14: Shameful

What does the word “shameful” bring to mind for you? I found two quotes from nineteenth century French writer Victor Hugo that seem to capture my own thoughts on this word. Take a few minutes to free write and see where this leads you. Is it something you’ve done? Something that was done to you? Something you’ve observed on either a small, personal scale or large corporate or government level?”

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http://www.poetsontheblog.blogspot.ca

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http://www.youtube.com

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No one said, life is as believed, 

We pass each day, avoiding pain; 

Forgetting, shamefully deceived.

Our worlds turn amiss, we bleed;

Yet, from difficulties too we gain. 

Consider them in life as reprieves

Intense pain, blood leaks and we grieve,

Toxins cleansed, blood let, not in vain;

Wounds left, shamefully unseemly

Suffer, yet many a worse life conceive; 

World that’s mean, feeds on human pain.

Yet, we shine our hope, despite grief; 

Though our scars are deep, we still breathe. 

There’s strength fighting, not leaving, 

A man near death, not left to bleed. 

Sacrifice and freedom conceived. 

Sadness trickles past, cleansing rain;

Bathed in water, hope found, relief, 

Strength, warm light glows, hope healing. 

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Villanelle:

“A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme: aba aba aba aba aba abaa.The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).”

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – ” The Truth”


The following is a re-blog and re-edited version of an old poem I found:


pearl-in-clam
Credit: http://www.globe-views.com

The Truth is as a pearl,

polished and genuine,

Gleaming in the waters still.

Deep beneath where the —

Light dances and shimmies on the water’s surface.

It is something taken for granted, something I gave up.

It’s became this hole inside my heart burning, seething,

Twisted and warped beyond recognition.

An evil formed out of something so pure.

A repulsive ugliness which strangles me.


I want to give you that pearl let it gleam in the sun;

Let it adorn a jeweled neck, a sign of hope on a beauties breast.

But I lied and I took our security away,

I lashed myself tight to seaweed, strands of purple haze, watery worries —

They will be my grave, they will make you despise me.

For I am broken soul now and I cannot turn around.

I am set in my ways, though I wail and turn wane.

You are the light of a pearl, the soft flick of ashes, your lashes —

The soot of my pain, as I lie to you again.

The scent of those ashes, that burning acrid smell;

Reminds me of churches, of a place purer than pearls.

Where the air is so still I can hear my breath wrack,

Hear my heart beat, find forgiveness relief.

As I cry in my soul, it’s forgiven but torn.

While you pray to nothing, it separates us more.


I speak of a heart beat between you and me,

A quiet place we rest, but you make me cry in pain.

Wound me, complete me, and I bite my tongue

As my wry wit replies, to the pain on my peaches and cream,

The  bruises the aches in my legs, to find no peace.

In that, there is nothing but the trapping of my lies,

The seaweed grief come to strangle my reprieve.

A word of love, taken back, a thought, perhaps, I care little.

But when I am skin to skin and feel,

As close as to anyone that I’ve ever been,

When I would give to you what I’d give to no one else,

You turn your back, you leash me, stop my attempts to train,

So I swirl in and out of this complicated romance, the jumper in the whirlpool.

The one plashless, hopeless because she cannot take back time,

Thinks you and the pearl that glimmers in her eye, would have never been,

Had she not minced words and told you:

“I feel nothing — leave me be;

I enjoy the closeness but you are no shiny pearl of truth.”


I see the future unravel, unruly, uninvited coming near,

Ending because you refuse to believe,

In the significance of ashes and churches.

Because I refuse to live in the world,

The woman with a pearl around her neck.

It’s chocking me, the truth, it slides,

A warm gold chain that clasps the pearl in place,

Tightens the pearl around me neck,

Until lost breath is imminent.

When will I say them, those impending words?

When will I say it I cannot trust you,

I cannot tell the truth,

You choose to do works when faith is needed.

You hurt me, and care little to understand me,

My lips seal the words, close them in a box, turn the key;

Pandora’s box ready to unleash this pearl of wisdom,

Perhaps, wise words, but there are no wise-men here.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Shadorma – “Disasters and gods” #wordhighjuly #poetry #amwriting #tadhana 



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http://www.youtube.com

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Beyond your, 

Control there exists, 

Such forces in–

The gods of, 

Weather and sky, who —

With pleasure torment.

——-

Killing their, 

Children, people of —

Earth they harm.

Tornadoes, 

In dry places flatten all, 

Homes; many left for dead.

——

Your typhoons, 

Come raging with wind, 

Water and, 

Take away, 

Our loved ones, disappearing  gone.

Our pets have no chance.

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When you gods, 

In your games, take life, 

I wonder, 

Where is your, 

Mercy and kindness; your grace? 

Murdering, no thought.

——

I wonder, 

Should I pray, not to —

You beings, 

But to gods, 

Who give a damn about life, 

Answer pleading prayers.

—–

Perhaps, an —

Intelligent designer, 

Can say to, 

Me in words, 

Why my wife he brought back to his —

Heavenly home first.

——

Why my kids, 

Have disappeared and,

I want to —

Only be–

With them all; not alone on earth.

Explain to me why you —

—–

Take in earth –

Quakes, tremors causing, 

Giant waves to–

Crush any in, 

Its powerfully hungry path.

Why such waves, hate me.

——

Why do the, 

Volcanoes in places, 

Explode and —

Take others, 

Around the world not caring, 

Indiscriminately.

——

With no thought, 

Disasters around —

Us destroy.

And they kill, 

Each year taking more and more.

Tears return again.

——-

Creator, 

New God I search for, 

Will you give, 

Me peace and —

Reassurance I will see my, 

Loved ones soon? I pray —

—–

They’re not lost–

Forever; there’s small, 

Hope in my, 

Voice to the, 

God, I now beg for to bring me–

Relief; answer prayers. 

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Hey! This is the last post for #wordhighjuly and the Filipino word prompts. Thanks to Rosema and Maria for hosting! 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

The Disturber of Steps


I can’t find a place to put my feet, there’s no stepping stones.
And I am remembering where I ran aground a plea to God.
And I can’t understand all this misery, give me stepping stones.
And I can’t find a way to go, does anyone know?

I’m just trying to place my hands along the wall,
And I’m blind to the ways I go, oh no one knows,
cause your supposed to be a sinner a grevious lie or a saintly saint.
But I can’t be a saint or a devil may care, I’m just me in the twilight at the dark.

You’ve got no right to make me do what I don’t want to do when I don’t want to,
Your the heaviness beneath my feet, those cinder blocks.
Cause you don’t understand when I say no, I’m not judging you.
And you can’t judge me back cause I’m, just as lost as you.

You can’t see the look in my eyes, Im glaring at you.
Because you can’t answer my questions, the hard ones that are vital me.
You dig and delve, say you know better, but you don’t know me.
If I decide to do something it’s going to be on my terms, yours are just guidelines.

You pass me along, like I don’t mean thing, you give me cause to be rude.
But I try not to judge and I try to be nice, but don’t ever force me along that road.
I walk and wander where I please, the deal was with you, so just keep your word.
Don’t tell me to respect my religion, when you don’t respect the increment called yours.

Don’t tell me to love, when I am already broken, and the good ones scarce exist.
They bad cling to you like static, so you cannot breathe, and they take away,
Your will to try, your will to strive, I am alive don’t force me to be dead.
Feel sorry him, but you’ve no idea what I’ve gone through with him.

Find me shoes so I can walk, take my feet far from this frost.
Find me a stepping stone, a crack in the pavement to follow down to Oz.
Yellow stones greet me and I have no way of knowing, why you couldn’t,
Provide relief for only a moment, you are my conscience and my tempter.

Oh, God find me some answers.