Saturday Mix: Poem – Alouette – ” Waterways, Rubies, and Light”  #saturdaymix #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to Sarah of Weejars on MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. Here theme as ben homophones and this week’s homephones are: straight – not crooked, strait – narrow waterway, and discussed – talked about, and disgust – sickening. I’m combining Sarah’s Prompt with Lillian from #dVerse Poet’s Pub birthstone Prompt. My birthstone or a ruby from July. 

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Credit: Jeremy Bishop via Unsplash

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Roads aren’t all straight

They’ve crooked places. 

Thin trails where water travels, 

Areas you trip, fall. 

Afraid to be mauled, 

Waterways fast cause rabble. 

—-

Trapped at a strait

Sharp-toothed bears await,

For you to give in and cry; 

Say, “Life isn’t fair, 

And you weren’t aware, 

Of suffering,” safety’s lie. 

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Waters bring life, save, 

They can also enslave

Us within straits to suffering, 

You’ll drink fresh water, 

You’ll can drown, falter. 

But often, whirlpool’s they bluff

——

Your mind discusses

Escapes; swim through roughs. 

Don’t permit whirlpool’s giant waves —

Their narrow streams ire. 

Hard days don’t linger, 

Swim for your life, you’ll escape

——

Many times we see, 

What we think, believe —

Is an end, ’cause beginnings —

They disguise themselves, 

Self disgust us tells. 

We’ve not an ending, so swim. 

——-

We can fight despite, 

Life’s times of great spite. 

We are survivors living, 

To see another year. 

Monthly birthstone here —

Once more; rubies mark swimming —

—–

Through, surviving dark. 

Bright vivid lights hark. 

Another year not unfulfilled. 

A year we that we thrived, 

Sadness subsiding. 

With Ruby’s energy, strong will.

——–

Tres on through life’s thin, 

Narrow straits to swim, 

In glorious lakes and oceans. 

In heat of hot springs. 

As life always brings —

Light; healing not to bemoan. 

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“The Alouette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following set rules: Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7 and Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b.” 

See Shadow Poetry for more details. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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The Complexities of Red #thoughts #amwriting #nonfiction


Credit: Giovanni Licea – YouTube

I considered the colour red. How I’m equally attracted and repelled by it. How I pass by a red v-neck sweater in the right shade, but mix my acrylic colours, blend them until my instincts say stop; stop sign red. No wait . . . a bright cool startling red appears on my canvas. I think this is passion and passion is the boldest red. I think of how I not only crave to paint in vivid red, but in many vivid colours and textures. How I trace the feeling of layered paints with my fingers, and hunger for other colours with my eyes – blue, green, and purple. Though I adore all these colours, my favourite paintings are all in red.
 As with my love for sexy heels, which I adore in red too. If red is passion, what more can I say about women and sensuality then red shoes. They’re expression and fierceness. Like Kelly Picklers song “Red High Heels” — “I’m about to show you just how missing me feels, in my red high heels . . .” Red for revenge, red for moving on, red for love. But I hate red for love, it’s memory is sickening. He looked good in that colour – almost the best. 

Credit: Sam Roloff – “The Big Red One”
Yet red is so many things more. It’s anger, hate, rage, hurt, demons dreaming — the beast inside who does not die. Red is sinful, delicious, and deadly. It’s sex and power; a primilness. It’s royalty and blood, red blood spilled for in the body it’s blue (hence bluebloods). I love how classic red is — nothing more classic then a cat eye and red Bridget Bardot lips. Nothing as classic as red Mustang. 

I don’t wear red, the colour outshines me and doesn’t fit with such pale skin and blond hair. Please no red dress – I’d rather blend in and be a classic black or navy dress cut perfectly. But I seek out bits of red and cling to them, not wanting red to blind me. Only some sparkle and razzle dazzle to hold in my hand. Red nail polish is beautiful, with a bit of bling  Red as some of the lights in Las Vegas and red fireworks; red stoplights. 

Red is perplexing because it’s complex, not simple at all. Red is nationalism and red is internationalism. It’s a proud Canadian colour and I don’t mind wearing it on our Nation’s Birthday. Or cheering on our Canadian hockey teams in the Olympics and junior hockey. 

As well, roses are so divine, so deadly pricking your finger. Red, passion and pain. Together swirled these colours of red, of love, and hate collide. There are many shades of grey, but even more shades of red. It’s more than a primary colour it calls as a siren, “Look see me.” No one hides in red. Red cars are often caught barely speeding and Red is a theme of many songs albums as in “Red” as T. swifts song and album and the Beatles album “Redone.” Red as “My love is like a red red rose.” Some choral song I cannot recall. 

Credit: Jeannette Mattson – “Red Rose” – Fine Art America

But I’m sitting here, music blaring trying to decide what to paint. I’ve that special shade of red and it’s mixing and melding with other colours. Shades and tones. I see, red on my canvas and it bleeds. Red blood, blood . . .life, the most prolific association. Red is blood. Blood is life. Red such as poppies, that we must always remember. Red for anger, red for hate, for war. Red to hurt, poor the droplets down a crystal glass. Red red wine. To drink away the blood and crippling thoughts. Red to forget. I like a Malbec with bite. A Zinfandel to make me chatty. A Merlot or Cav-Sav with some friends. Red sangria is delicious. Red strawberry margaritas because there’s real fire in tequila. Red is too many things, too symbolic, too self-contradictory. Red is life. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poetry: Free Verse – “Woman On Fire” #amwriting #poetry


http://www.pinterest.com

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Animosity conspires within her belly, 

Her reactions fast, lightening sparks. 

She stalks through corridors and hallways,
Blood boiling, melting inner warmth of heart. 

No one speak of  what’s right or the truth.

The bottom line — what is right or true, 

Meant nothing when they used her. 

And the fire flits through her system, 

She’s wants to burn the world down, 

What made a gentle song bird, claw back viciously? 

The wrath of Maleficante, innocence stolen. 

Now, the swagger of her hips, 

Is a femme fatele arising, 

Wingspan of dragon, breathing flames of fire. 

Beating down the masses, burning pyres, 

Magnificent rage multiplying. 

Try to stop her, it’s in her being now. 

Her heart is blazing flare of woe. 

Be watchful and be wary, 

Someone, something, hurt her fiendishly —

A soft woman breaks most brutally, 

When her inner demons burn in wrath.  

She’s diligent and mean — so lost, 

All her love sprung and fled. 

Appears as if she should be wimpering, 

But when she talks her words scorch

Heavy smoke will make you cough and choke, 

It’s a dense whirling mass, 

That sends ruthless cowards to their knees. 

Before fire can blister and raze you, 

The smoke will leave you dying, 

No breath of life in her has forgiven. 

Don’t hurt a soft smart woman, 

She’s most dangerous;

Because when her dams break open, 

All hell leaks forth. 

Demon woman, betting on retribution, 

No absolution, no temperance, 

They’ve flown away, murdered by spite. 

A reckless beauty in pink, with pearls, 

Diamonds changed for rubies, tinder red glare. 

Her price for life is costly, 

Sparked by a wreckless cause, 

Anger building, layer open layer molds. 

She’s become the wretched clouds, 

Above the Valcono seething. 

And sulphuric rain’s in her power, 

No water to save and cool you, 

From a dragons lair or breathe of flame. 

Another way to die —

 Like she dies inside, daily,

Consumed by all her hatred;

Marked by vengeful ire. 

She’s become her indignation, 

She’s fury and resentment. 

A witches pot brewing, 

Antagonism, tears, and vexation. 

She will set afire and raze her foe. 

Dangerous and furious words, 

Melting magma from stones. 

She burns inside, and all that’s left —

Ashes killing, if exhaled. 

Dust she compresses, from the barren world, 

Her flame, herself broken once too often.

Wretched soft woman, 

Destroying the world and herself.

That’s why kind gentle women, 

Should never be screwed with, 

Once destroyed —

They bring the world down with them. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved 

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Mirrored Refrain – “Priceless Worth” 


And last, but not least, our prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates a call and response. Calls-and-responses are used in many sermons and hymns (and also in sea chanties!), in which the preacher or singer asks a question or makes an exclamation, and the audience responds with a specific, pre-determined response. (Think: Can I get an amen?, to which the response is AMEN!.). You might think of the response as a sort of refrain or chorus that comes up repeatedly, while the call can vary slightly each time it is used. Here’s a sea chanty example:

Please see NaPoWriMo for more information. 

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The Mirrored Refrain is rhyming verse form constructed by Stephanie Repnyek. The poem is formed by three or more quatrains where two lines within the quatrain are the “mirrored refrain” or alternating refrain.The rhyme scheme is as follows: xaBA, xbAB, xaBA, xbAB, etc.. x represents the only lines that do not rhyme within the poem. A and B represent the refrain. The first four stanzas of the example poem are labeled for better understanding.

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information on this poetry type.

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Jewels worth immeasurable value.

Diamonds, Rubies, Emeralds, Sapphire.

Of things attained in this wide world,

Your love is precious, priceless worth.

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When life is tough, nothing works out.

Smoke is choking, the world’s a trial.

Your love is precious, priceless worth.

Of things attained in this wide world.

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Tiredness, fatigue, creeping in —

Resting, let yourself sleep, respire.

Of things attained in this wide world.

Your love is precious, priceless worth.

—–

People are worth the effort to see,

Memories are lived, life’s fragile.

Your love is precious, priceless worth,

Of things attained in this wide  world.

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You can’t take it with you when time ends,

Use your life to reach out and inspire,

Of things attained in this wide world,

Your love is precious, priceless worth.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.