Day 3 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – Elegy/Couplets – “The Traveler Reaches Home” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is  poem type called an elegy – a poem that mourns or honors someone dead or something gone by. Center the elegy on an unusual fact about the person or thing being mourned. ” An elegy generally combines three stages of loss: first there is grief, then praise of the dead one, and finally consolation.” Please see Literary Devices for more information.

I’ve paired this prompt with The A to Z Challenge quote, having the author/quoter’s name begin with the letter C. 

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Credit: Danika and Peter via UnSplash

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“We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.” Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

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Here we gather, today it finally hit —

Me, you won’t be coming back; such grit

You displayed, at the crux, as death grew near.

There was no “going gently” for you dear.

I always admired that you were strong,

At the finish you groaned your last song.

The pain was so great, it hurt us to see,

A candle flame who flared, flickering free.

Death was not easy, nor was your young life.

But you always shouldered through the strife.

A kind, giving person — philanthropist,

With death, you became a minimalist.

Objects hold memories, the Stone’s song we know —

well: “You Can’t Take It With You When You Go.”

As we remember, we wonder why —

Three-years ago you left, disappeared wide —

Across the world, sending postcards to —

Us all, as you adventured across through —

Every country you could see with no —

Face Time, Skype; we were scared you wouldn’t come —

Back; but you knew how sick you had become.

That’s why you left, returned, with all of your —

Stories to share as you withered, poorly —

Weak and fragile, all your living used up.

No matter we were so afraid it’s just

We didn’t understand your reasons ’til —

You said, “I’m dying fast, I have no more will —

to live, my time is drawing near, I see —

God’s blessed glory shining, in front of me.”

We forgive you for leaving twice; we know —

Your Heavenly home, will now shelter you.

It’s hard how it ended, but we’ll see you —

Soon — in the peace, Heaven granted for you.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.


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Poem: Inverted Refrain – “Light His Words” #poetry #amwriting #christmas 


Credit: Christmas Moment

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For more information on the Inverted Refrain Type of Poetry see HERE

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You told me to seek out glowing light, 

Shining through the shadow’s eerie prowl. 

You told me to search, put up a fight. 

But darkness creeping made me scowl,

            In a shuttered room, such a sight, 

            Light entered in my heart soft white.

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You told me to seek beyond all glimmer, 

In rough housing, a dank stable. 

Prayers answered found in the dim. 

Move through sadness as I’m able. 

           Sunlight came in through a window.

            Broken pieces fit, once more cabled

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You told me to seek out a source of hope, 

It’s difficult when you’re fragmented. 

When life makes no sense, and you choke, 

Forgetting life is heaven sent. 

          Words, many vital unspoken, 

          Fading dream; to him not present. 

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You told me keep reaching for light, 

Guidence from your blessed kind words.

I’m still dealing, an unglued fright, 

But I found my resting place, heard —

         Such honour, glorious of sights, 

          A babe at Christmas, light His words. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

B&P Shadorma & Beyond: Poetry – Shadorma/Acrostic – “Moon Tides” #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this prompt. Today’s focus is in the acrostic form of poetry with the Shadorma

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Such madness

Unfolds when the moon, 

Sits giant,

Orb shining. 

But tonight he’s a wane crescent. 

Madness tame. 

—-

Matters not, 

All moons wax quickly, 

Desperate song, 

Not hidden. 

Endless men, tricksters howling, 

Sending out —

—–

Signs of blood, 

Unconscious filled, 

Nattering, 

Teeth grating. 

Amulets of their hearts throbbing

Mystical tides pull. 

—-

Endless ins

Demonstrative outs. 

Water brings, 

Water it takes.

Moon’s pull on sailors can’t be —

Helped, when madness roams. 

—–

Morning comes;

Vessel sinks into the —

Water’s depth called.

Aimless men, 

Know not of the night only it’s —

Consequences.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Neverland and Celesetial Beings” #amwriting #poetry 


http://www.science.nationalgeographic.com

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The words flitted through my head, 

As many words, words which may never be said. 

I felt the forms of celestial beings, 

The sky alight, starlight and star bright. 

Twinkling stars forever in their journey of millions to ten billion years, 

Black holes it would seem, a stars end, and another beginning. 

Like the words of poets, of mortal men, 

Glimmering sheen; spoken out loud,

Perhaps, for thousands of years. 

One day all words will flicker out, 

One day no one will remember the words, 

Said eons ago, but for His words; the designer, 

All other words fade to pitch, disappear into black holes. 

We wish for an eternity, yet we dream of fantastic world’s — Neverlands,

Our own earth to flawed to be genuine.

—–

I wonder what words we remember most? 

Are they the words of love and endearment? 

Or the words of intense, raging emotions?

The times we screamed as teenagers,

Angry at life, our parents the world.

Or the times we shrieked, like banshees, for our broken hearts. 

Are they words said at a loved ones funeral?

Or are those words always covered up, oozing untruth? 

Maybe, they’re the words of passion and heat? 

Said between, blissful, exultant kisses? 

Were these words in any situation real? 

Said to make us feel better, to feel okay, 

To make us feel that the world was right? 

Yet we keep spinning in our thoughts, beneath the heavens,

Residents of former Eden, spanning the globe. 

Beneath celestial lights, the greatest burning blasts of sun a flame. 

The stars we wish, mean there is and was a Neverland, 

Perhaps, a flying PeterPan to lead us? 

But Wendy, she wisely came back to earth; 

As Wendy, I stay grounded in reality. 

In a necklace around my neck, 

Wearing pixie dust, my hope —

That anyone can learn to fly, and one day find their forever home.

That any child has a home, where they are loved and safe. 

Hoping no one is a lost boy, 

Not without support and a fighting spirit, 

To carry on; their feet on the ground like Wendy — the mother. 

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Oh stars spinning round the earth, you glow brighter —

Than the pixie dust of tinkerbelle’s sacrifice. 

Brighter than the gleaming moon, off of Captain Hook’s hook, 

Gleam keener than the crocodile’s eyes,  who follows Hook relentlessly.

Who wants to run forever from crocodiles? 

When they have a taste for your flesh, 

They want to devour you whole and escape is a distant goal. 

In real life, they’re too many crocodiles, 

Beneath celestial beings of the universe, in shimmering luminescence. 

Exist terrible creatures of horror and disease, 

Of hate and harms if every kind.

Those whose souls are so filthy, 

You would think they could never be clean.

But the filthy harmers, are rather variant from Hook’s crocodile, 

Imagine the music playing when the Crocadile comes, Disney made famous. 

The ticking of the clock, the crocodile had eaten, 

The metaphor for time always clicking, 

It’s heels along with Captain Hook’s boots.

So we discover, even if we’re Peter Pan, 

Life is not Neverland; even in Neverland, time keeps on ticking by. 

We cannot fly with Tinkerbelle’s pixie dust, 

Everyone and everything ages; we cannot escape this, 

If we were created from a black hole — a Big Bang —

A gigantic vacuum in reverse. 

Maybe, we are as stars gleaming only a moment? 

Mere seconds in reality, than forever, dying out. 

Re-existing in our heavenly home, 

If we followed that one star to the Manger.

And even Peter Pan chose one day, 

To stay home in the real world. 

He realized in an epiphany, eternity was too long to live as a child. 

He saw eternities vastness, in his old -young eyes, 

And said most clearly: “One day I want to die.” 

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Peter Pan (Disney) – Crocodile Music

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Story Continuation Prompt: Fiction – ” Uncle Jerry’s Photograph” 


Thanks to Wandering Soul who hosts this challenge. You are supposed to write one or two more sentences to make a three line story with the prompt sentence. I tend to get inspired and end up with an entire story, jammed into two too long sentences. So I’m linking to her blog with my story inspired by the sentence: ” The picture on the wall was crooked; a lot like the person in it.”

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http://www.denofgeeks.com

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The picture on the wall was crooked; a lot like the person in it. I knew the photo was of my Grandpa’s brother Jerry, who had shot himself in the foot to get out of WWII. He had only been in France a week and spent most of his active duty attempting to make himself throw-up daily, so he didn’t have to fight but could remain in the infirmary. But Jerry’s Captain realized what Jerry was up to and put him back with his company to kill German soldiers.

Sadly, it wasn’t beyond Jerry’s cowardice to hide behind other soldiers in his squadron,  or use them as shields. I doubt Jerry’s company minded when he showed them  a German soldier had shot him in the foot; even though his squadron knew Jerry had shot himself to get out of fighting in the War. It wasn’t as if many soldiers hadn’t thought of shooting their own foot to escape War’s reality, but most of them knew their country needed them and took their duty as a soldier with pride.

Jerry’s fellow soldiers were glad to see ‘useless’  Jerry gone. He hadn’t made any friends and most men knew being Jerry’s friend meant he would desert you when you needed help; infact, life expectancy for members in Jerry’s old company went up when Jerry was sent home with a permanent limp.

Jerry told absurd and utterly fake stories about being a War hero when he returned to his family’s house in London. Jerry had even stolen a poor dead man’s medals to make it appear as if he had been recognized by England, Primeminister Churchill, and the Queen, for defending his country. 

But Jerry’s family didn’t believe his stories and doubted he had sacrificed himself to earn such high honours. Jerry’s family knew his personality, the cowardliness and cunning that always lurked behind Jerry’s every action. 

War was awful and terrifying, but Jerry’s father who had fought in WWI and Jerry’s permanently wounded brother Clancy, who fought in WWII, believed Jerry should be doing his duty back in France. Soldiers were being shipped to the beaches of Normandy and neither Jerry’s father or Clancy thought the slight limp that Jerry most likely gave himself, should stop a soldier from doing his duty.

 Jerry eventually left home during the War, wandering the roads in different towns, lost and afraid that death would catch up with him because he had avoided it in France. In the shadow of a pale moon, a bomb flew from the sky one night, and Jerry met his end in England, near his family’s home. 

Both Jerry’s father and brother Clancy, at last we’re proud of him. The bomb from a German airplane had hit Jerry and not another person or a building full of civilians. Jerry hadn’t intended on being the bombs target, but his family felt they could remember the cowardly man with a bit of pride now.

 Jerry’s photo, Grandpa Clancy said, should remind us Grandchildren to be brave and not use others because we are afraid, as Uncle Jerry had done in his life. Grandpa Clancy’s Grandchildren knew what true sacrifice was when their Grandfather showed them the stump that was once his left leg. 

Clancy had never bothered with a prosthetic limb. His leg stump spoke volumes to a generation who did not realize what a sacrifice so many men had made so their children and Grandchildren could be free from men such as Hitler and his Nazis.

Clancy had loved his brother. The part of Jerry who was a scheming coward, Clancy had never been able to understand. Scared or not, a man has to do what a man had to do, especially during a War. Clancy was cheered that in death, his brother Jerry may have been brave.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Day 6 – NaPoWriMo- Aubade – ” Arising”


We are hidden softly,

Underneath the duvet.

You push the covers grumpily, 

Out of your foot-fall way.

See the shining beacon,

In the sky like egg yolks.

You crack four into the pan.

And start the frying of bacon.

The sizzling slurp,

Wakes me alive and-

I yawn and kiss your-

neck; it smells like Dior.

You put your uniform on to Work.

And leave me wanting with a second look.