Poem: Free Verse — “Learning and Dreams” #amwritingpoetry


Credit: Vincentiu Solomon via Unsplash

Sometimes certain words fade to silence,

It’s a battle to complete each task, each day.

There are mornings I almost weep, but I grapple against each storm;

Somedays mean from morn to night exhaustion quivers,

My legs shake and I’m too tired to run –too agitated to sit;

Though you might think I’ve done so little.

And, thoughts and plans leave me pondering all night;

Tossing and turning in the blankets grasp.

But other days I rise, and I’m alive with sunshine;

The learning process of endurance is half the battle.

I try to succeed, hope most days they’re moments that to other people matter.

I’m prepared for hard work, as long as my body’s alert

And if I’m here now in the present; I must be in the right place for now —

For however long I am.

Here to learn, blossom, grunt, and groan against all challenges.

Although, certain days my eyes are sand-weighted,

Aching for tomorrow’s responsibility, a notion of grande design;

I’m surviving today, that’s something.

Existing in an extended vignette, eyes not glazing left alone.

And somehow unseen footpaths meander to freedom, faith for tomorrow:

Then, he grabbed my shaking hands anyways,

Before I tumbled, and off the ledge we rode.

Tucked in goose feathers, silken fibres —

Into the midnight sky we flew.

To chase the dreams of starlight’s cosmic kiss;

Then wake flourishing on a comets tail.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

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#NaPoWriMo Day 24/ Poem — Free Verse — “Bird Dreams” #amwritingpoetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 24: my own prompt again.


Credit: Coral Birds Pinterest


There was a bird coral flushed, torn in the Red Sea waves,

And she floated in the healing, until her wings were drenched in mineral salts.

She preened on a rock, wings coated in salt-dust;

But, one day a storm raged and she was drenched in the mud.

The healing earth, and brokenness beneath meant nothing.

Rain washed, and she spread her plush coral feathers — lunged for the sky;

The salt and mud weighed, not much had fallen-smooth away.

But, she flew anyways — some birds fly despite;

They rise, even if you hold them down;

If you clip their wings, their feathers still grow rapid.

If you hear not a squawk, don’t be surprised if you do — she talks, no moment is right, but there’s reasons beneath silence.

It takes time to soar weighted by sludge, to balance weights on your wings;

But she’s flying and she’s okay, she might send a squawk your way —

Depends if you’re a bird person, or weighted to cement delusions.

She might squawk, or she might fly onto the tangerine sunset,

Where the saltless waters are clean, and her wingspan for a moment’s graceful.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 21: Free Verse — “The Writer” #amwritingpoetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 21, the prompt is:


“Try to play around with writing that doesn’t make formal sense, but which engages all the senses and involves dream-logic.


Credit: The Chronicle .


It’s not up to you, to point out black holes,

Name the constellations, and mark each glimmering star alive or perished.

Some stars can’t be named the North Star or apart of mythical stories, there constellations too;

For Never-neverland maybe imagination, but it soared, became more than a bubblegum dream.

If you’ve not struggled, you can’t realize,

How verbs, syntax, nouns, adjectives, punctuation, character, setting, and ambience —

Connect, form a string each a crystalline sentence that aligns and meander as champagne bubbling.

Writing’s not only selling New York Times novels, nor a stilted profession of the tearful unaccomplished.

Not everyone can do it, become JK Rowling or Carrol Lewis — but many succeed in unaccomplished glory.

Wonderland’s not where we live because we write, the everyday is clear and time counts;

The ruby-red snarls of many ‘Queen of Hearts” are far too real to avoid.

Bur, not having lived it, you can’t define an accountant, a banker, an assistant, a poet alone or how words of struggling flow.

Still, wise experience nods a teacher, it creates flushed fools for judging.

Hopes and dreams aren’t for the gavel;

Wasp words, those who stomp out candle light, don’t define reality or illusion as they intertwine.

Hours, sweat, tears, mental blockage, palms ink-stained, and effort –to finish but a sentence, they’re lived;

Writers aren’t mere dreamers, simple poets or wordsmiths;

Artists decide their titles, their boundaries.

People aren’t opinions, so let judgement float into words unsaid; instead, — hasten positivity.

Life’s understood by all uniquely, both in practicality and summer days’ swarming.

It’s not formed by popular opinion, social media, a hostile or forgiving world.

It’s a story that blooms and it’s not for anyone to say what is or isn’t,

For you’re not you’re opinions, and I don’t define you, thus;

People are multifaceted, sharing life’s uneasy ride;

So, keep your conclusions, define your passion and ambitions — not mine.

Unless you’ve walked in my shoes, are the hand covering mine as I jot –the nomenclature isn’t yours.

It’s mine, and I’ve been a writer since I was young,

Yet, the world remains both contentious and compassionate for any career,

I only wish the latter won, somewhere the ethereal and everyday combined in creative culture.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge/Saturday Mix: “We’re Done” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to NELNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge and Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday mix on the theme of onomatopoeia and the three words rustle, thud, and hoot.


Credit: Google

Our balance as love-birds is precarious. We’re alike yet, so different. Holding our Adho Mukha Vrksasana‘ handstands, eyes closed; our breath mingling. It’s a habit of ours, mutual meditation of bodies and minds. We breathe deep, yet struggle to hold our pose.

A rushing sensation floods my brain. My blood pumps downward and dizziness threatens.

You groan. “Hold it five more minutes.”

I say nothing. You’re too close, I need distance. I’m sick of this arrangement. You take flight far from me; there’s never any communication, until you’re home. It’s as if I don’t exist for you until there’s no one else.

My muscles relax and I flex my feet, rolling my body through my spine, then my hips, until I’m in table top, and then, sitting cross legged. You’ve noticed nothing. Do you ever? I shove your side. Your spindle-legs flail in the air; you can’t right yourself. Thud!

“What the hell.” You glare and examine the scratches on your body.

I shrug. “Too much. I can’t keep this up.”

“Huh?”

“Everything.” My lungs ache; I feel caged. I want to scream.

“What’s wrong with you?” You cock your head and study me, hands on your knees. Your beady eyes send nervous chills.

“Her, all the hers. Cassandras and Stephanies. Kassies and Ashleys.”

“You’re the only Claire.”

I stand. The sun’s hot on my arms as I yank on yoga pants. Crisp spring leaves rustle above me in the river valley along with the some hooting bird. The breeze quickens, and I shiver, stretching high into mountain pose.

I peer at him, as he considers me. “I think I’m tired of peacocks like you. I don’t need your strutting or the women. The never knowing where you are, or if you care.”

You frown, run your hands through your hair, while your toes dig into the grass. “What are you talking about?”

“I need to concentrate on other things, not where or who you’re leaving here for next; the never knowing if you’ll return.” I turn, shoving my feet into pink Tom’s. My breath eases. I’m relieved that I said it, finally.

“Claire, stay. Please.” You twist your hippy-beard and your beady eyes beg.

I close mine and sigh. ” I can’t; no more.” You reach for your water bottle, gulp it before slamming it against a tree. Twigs crack, the bottle dents.

You swear, but don’t follow me as I hike back to the car. When I no longer see you, my body quivers, wracked with sobs. With each step I rid myself of your poison.

A few minutes later I rub my eyes with my hoodie sleeve. I don’t care that they’re pink and swollen.

That’s when it hits me –the silence of no drama, no worry weighing my entire being down as stones. I let the silence permeate me; a peace I haven’t experienced in years crashes over me. We’re done. My lips turn upwards and I smile. I haven’t done that in years either.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes: February 2018 Part Two #pinterest #quotes #notablequotes


Good Morning. Welcome to February’s Notable Quote second edition. Please enjoy and hope your special someone remembers Valentine’s Day, or if not, you were able to do something nice for yourself or others in your life.

As for me, I’m busy but doing well. I’m freelancing and doing a writer’s bootcamp on Facebook. It’s also a great place to have your worked critique if your serious writer, writing a short story or a novel. So far the bootcamp is extremely relevant and I love it. TheFacebook group is called: Writer’s World. You will need permission to join. Cheers!

The February theme again is humour.


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©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes: November 2017 Part One #quotes #pinterest


Another half of month gone by, wasn’t it just Halloween? I think between projects, family, friends, other stuff, and my growing pile of stories and poetry I want to work on, it’s easy to become lost in everything. It’s important to stay grounded In life and to understand that your stressors and issues are yours to bear with help and that others too are going through life events and problems that are overwhelming for them.

I miss being younger and carefree and having the ability to eventually finish my To – Do lists. I miss doing more creative fiction and blogging more but with project writing, other things going on, and my creative writing projects that require off-blog work, lately it’s been hard to keep up. Frankly, those off-blog pieces are met with little energy at the end of the day but I’m trying to keep up with a poem or two every couple of days and hopefully will return to some semblance of a blog schedule in December.

Nevertheless, there is power in words to lift us up, find balance, and find healing too. Enjoy!

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#NovemberNotes Day 4: Poem – Ottava Rima – “Transformed” #poetry #amwriting #dVerse


For November Notes Day 4 the song Prompt is ” Wilderness” by John Bryant. If you look at the list below you’ll notice I reversed Day 3 and Day 4’s Prompt songs. I’m also combining the prompt with Grace from #dVerse Poet’s Pub open link night. 

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Credit: Jonas Weckschmied via Unspash

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“Wilderness” – John Bryant 

—-

Remain with we tonight let your senses prove, 

Together our love is right, bullet proof.

Stay with me this night, there’s nothing to lose.

We can be here, together raise the roof. 

The silence of the Wilderness will soothe, 

Your senses are heightened, not aloof —

To what’s burning between us and forming,

Something rare, a world within worlds transformed. 

—-

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

‘Rewind Interview’ of Blogger, Poet, Writer, & Author Rosema Gonzales #amwriting #interview #nonfiction


Welcome to almost September and a look back at some of past interviews in my ‘Rewind Interviews.’ On my own blog and on the Go Dog Go Cafe, a writer’s community! I anyone wants to be a regular member of the Cafe as a Barista once a week or even every two weeks, please let us know. Also, you can submit questions about this or your own writing to the Contact Page. 

I’m excited to share with you a ‘Rewind Interview‘ of my good friend, talented writer, wonderful person, and wise woman: Rosema Gonzales from the Philippines. You can explore her blog at the following link: A Reading Writer .


Rosema
Rosema Gonzales

1. Rosema, Please Share With Us Some Things About Yourself?

I am my blog’s nameA Reading Writer. I read and write and in-between, eat cake and/or drink coffee.

I currently work for a small Public Relations firm as a Public Relations Associate and also a Public Relations Writer. I have a degree in journalism and I dream of becoming a news writer someday; a bonafide journalist. Although, I feel this goal could be a bit impossible, realistically speaking, but who knows?

When I’m not working, I’m blogging and writing. My blog, A Reading Writer , is my fortress and it has changed my writing-self dramatically. I used to only write book reviews and thoughts on books I was reading (wanted to read). Now, I write both poetry and fiction. I never thought I could write poetry or fiction until I joined the WordPress courseWriting 101, last year. Writing 101 changed my perspective on my writing abilities.

When I’m not writing or blogging, I have a thirst for reading. Mitch Albom who is my favorite author. I love all the novels I have that Mitch Albom wrote, but it would take too long to name them all :D)

When I am not reading I am drinking a cuppa of dark coffee and wishing I could be eating cheesecake! 😀


2. When Did You First Start Writing and Blogging?

Technically, my first post was published on August 28, 2014, close to three-years-ago now. My first post was only the beginning of my ‘existence’ as a blogger. My ‘real’ more than existing as a blogger, began when I joined Writing 101 in September 2015. For me, this course offered by WordPress, somehow signaled the ‘rebirth’ of my A Reading Writer blog.


“My ‘real’ more than existing as a blogger, began when I joined Writing 101 in September 2015. For me, this course offered by WordPress, somehow signaled the ‘rebirth’ of my A Reading Writer blog.” – Rosema Gonzales


3. What Does Your Writing and Poetry Mean to You? Why Do You Write and Where Do You Find Your Inspiration and Motivation?

For me, writing is like breathing with wordsNo one can survive without breathing; that’s how vital writing and poetry arefor me. My motivation and inspiration can come from anywhere. I had a writing piece which was inspired by a garbage truck once. Seriously! But the majority of my poetry and fiction are written while I’m riding the bus. I think my brain churns more when I’m commuting. Reading and music alsoinspire and motivate me, and have recently given birth to some unpublished poems, too. 🙂


4. Do You Find There Is A Time of Day You Most Enjoy Writing?

Hmmm. As I said before, I usually write on a bus so it’s either early morning or at night when  I write. Although, I think there is something about the silence and darkness of night that inspiresmore creative pieces as compared to when it’s daytime.


“For me, writing is like breathing with words. No one can survive without breathing; that’s how vital writing and poetry are form me. My motivation and inspiration can come from anywhere.” – Rosema Gonzales


5. Do You Have Any Current Writing Projects or Any Hopeful Writing Projects?

If hosting a writing challenge is a project then, I would say my most recent project called:  Word-High July has been my focus#WordHighJuly featured thirty beautiful Filipino words as word prompts. Many poets and bloggers have written impeccable pieces inspired by these Filipino words such as halakhak, a noun which means loud uninhibited laughter, or kaulayai, a noun which means a pleasant and intimate companion. In terms of future projects, I’m dreaming of publishing my own poetry book in the future.


Note: Rosema has done just that and published her first book on Amazon.com, earlier in the summer. It’s called Between My Bleeding Lines by R.C. Gonzales and is available as a Kindle ebook and in Paperback!


Between These Bleeding Lines 

by

R.C Gonzales

*****

Between My Bleeding Lines Poetry
Credit: Rosema Gonzales

Below is also n example of an image and word prompt used in Rosema’s #WordHighJuly writing challenge last year


Pleasant Compnanion


6. Have You Published Any Of Your Writing Or Are You Planning to Publish Works of Writing In The Future? Can You Briefly Describe Your Publishing and Writing Process?

All my written works are published on WordPress only for the moment. It’s part of my future plan to publish them soon maybe on my own, because scouting for a publisher is a tough task. I’m still building up the courage to finally, begin writing my own book. 

Because I’m not even one step towards publishing my work beyond my blog, I think I’m not a good writer or blogger to describe the process of publishing my writing. HOWEVER, I have great blogging friends who have successfully published their books and I’m sure they will willingly help people who like me, will eventually need tips on the entire publishing process. I have been reading some online material about self-publishing. So, I have gathered a ton of information there.

(See above Rosema self-published her poetry book!)


7. What Is Your Writing Process Like?

I have an erratic writing process. I write anywhere and anytime, because story ideas sprout unexpectedly. There are times for instance, when I am just walking and I come across someone who I don’t know and a poem is born! It’s an unpredictable process so I always have my phone handy because it’s my stockroom for poetry and fiction.


“I have an erratic writing process. I write anywhere and anytime, because story ideas sprout unexpectedly.” – Rosema Gonzales


8. Do You Prefer Certain Areas of Writing or Reading Styles and/or Genres?

I prefer reading in bed. I’m a certified librocubicularist. 🙂

When it comes to reading genres, I love Young-AdultMystery, ThrillersContemporary LiteratureHistorical FictionPoetry, and Faith related books.When it comes to writing, my most chosen genre is Romance; love, and more so, unrequited love. I also write realistic fiction and about tragedy. My blog friend Mel, of In Media Res has been joking about putting a death toll counterin my blog. HAHA. I’m close to considering it !


9. Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers?

First, I must say write for yourself not for anyone else. It is blissful to have many people follow and read your work, but it is unusual to have many followers and readers as a writer or blogger starting out. So, do not be discouraged by a lack of other people reading your writing; write for no one but yourself.

Second, I you cannot compare yourself to other writers. Other writers maybe talented but you are talented in your own way as well. Such as fingerprintseach author has their own individual perspective and niche in the writing world. So, be yourself; find your own voice and style, then improve on it.

Lastly, I believe you should always be the first person who believes in your characters, in your poems, in in all your writing. This advice, I often give myself, and is a lesson I’m still trying to learn.


 

Carlie Jean UnSplash Tea
Credit: Carli Jeen via UnSplash

 


“[Y]ou cannot compare yourself to other writers. Other writers maybe talented but you are talented in your own way as well. Such as fingerprints, each author has their own individual perspective and niche in the writing world. So, be yourself; find your own voice and style, then improve on it.” – Rosema Gonzales 


10. Do You Have Anything About Yourself You’d Like to Share With Fellow Writers? 

Honestly, I’ve only just found my true writer-self. I think this year is the first, I’ve finally embraced creative writing. My focus before this year, was on writing straight news, real-life nonfiction, becoming a genuine journalist. Now, I am loving what I’ve been discovering about myself through creative writing.

As well, it would not be possible for me to have had such personal growth through writing if I did not have a great bunch of supportive and loving writers in the blogging community on WordPress. I would like to highlight the need for a friendly, honest, and interactive writing community.


11. Any Advice for Other Writers or Bloggers Starting Out? 

Bloggers and writers (online and in general), need to be kind enough to read the work of the writers who read your own posts. Let’s be supportive enough to correct grammar mistakes or provide tips on how a writer can improve on his or her work. Leave thoughtful comments on other bloggers and writers posts.

I know life happens and we do not always have a lot of time. But if we have the time and make the time, we need to somehow harness the power of our words to encourage our fellow writersHigh praises are not always needed, you can also give constructive criticism or disagree with what another writer wrote. What’s important is to let writers know how their work affects youhow you feel about their work.This is helpful, to all writers.

Writers should be the first to realize completely, the power of their words. I hope we can agree to use words to create an encouraging community. Let’s not underestimate the power of our comments. Comments on a writer’s work can change livesI’m proof and I can testify to the truth of comments changing my own life and writing.


“I know life happens and we do not always have a lot of time. But if we have the time and make the time, we need to somehow harness the power of our words to encourage our fellow writers. High praises are not always needed, you can also give constructive criticism or disagree with what another writer wrote.” – Rosema Gonzales


11. Please Share With Us Some Pieces Of Your Fiction And Poetry:

“Writer’s Note”

by

Rosema Gonzales

*****

Guilia Bertelli UnSplash - Notes Rosema
Credit: Giulia Bertelli via Unsplash

*****

No one,
nothing,
can take
my words
away
from me.

Break me,
confine me,
curse me,
abandon me,
my lines will bleed more
surely.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.


12. Here are some more Blog Posts from Rosema: 


Thanks so much Rosema for filling out interview questions and writing them with your heart. It always comes through in your work, fiction, poetry, or talking about your favourite books. I’m encouraged you will make wonderful strides in creative writing and in your career aspirations.


“Dreams are always possible, sometimes we only have to believe they can be a possibility!” – A.E. 


Once again, here is the link to Rosema’s blogA Reading WriterMany thanks for reading along. If you would like to be interviewed as a blogger, poet, writer, or blogger or a cause,  please let me know. You can reach-out to me through my Contact Page.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Music Prompt # 8: Poem – Blitz – ” Real Violent Ocean” based off of “Calm Before the Storm” by Sarah Ross #amwriting #poetry #musiccprompt 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Friday’s music challenge. It was based on the song ” Calm Before the Storm” by Sarah Ross. 

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Calm Before the Storm” – Sarah Ross

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Calm before the storm

Calm perceived, not real

Real quiet, crows flying 

Real quiet, eerie silence 

Silence is all you deserve

Silence before your fall

Fall from saving grace 

Fall from your glories

Glories were lies 

Glories were false promises 

Promises fade, are taken away 

Promise, the storm will be fierce 

Fierce as the rain drowning your voice

Fierce as the thunder screaming 

Screaming across the darkest skies 

Screaming as lightening fires 

Fires and hits you, sparks 

Fires right between your eyes, terrified 

Terrified of the calm before the storm 

Terrified when I warned —

Warned you little boy

Warned you as clouds turned grey, too late —

Too late to hold your breath

Too late as water cleanses, drowns

Drowns your pleading voice

Drowns her cursed moans that flew

Flew freely, you cannot hide

Flew undisguised, I heard surprised? 

Surprised the worst ain’t happened yet

Surprised the storm intensifies 

Intensifies my thirst for revenge, 

Intensifies my grief, you only see 

See the calm before the storm 

See the sky ominous red 

Red as rage, passion emblazed
Red as my ripped apart heart

Heart of the storm rises 

Heart of mine wishes you gone 

Gone your presence 

Gone, don’t let your presence be prolonged

Prolongs my misery 

Prolongs, such hatred brewing 

Brewing tornado in your trailer park

Brewing in the marsh, a wild storm 

Storms create, deep dank of cruel life

Storms erupt in my tranquil ocean. 

Ocean forms my monstrous storm, 

Life, you paid the price in my maelstrom. 

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The Blitz Poem: 

This form of poetry is a stream of short phrases and images with repetition and rapid flow. 
Begin with one short phrase, it can be a cliché. Begin the next line with another phrase that begins with the same first word as line 1. The first 48 lines should be short, but at least two words.
The third and fourth lines are phrases that begin with the last word of the 2nd phrase, the 5th and 6th lines begin with the last word of the 4th line, and so on, continuing, with each subsequent pair beginning with the last word of the line above them, which establishes a pattern of repetition. 
Continue for 48 total lines with this pattern. The last two lines repeat the last word of line 48, then the last word of line 47.

The title must be only three words, with some sort of preposition or conjunction joining the first word from the third line to the first word from the 47th line, in that order.

For more information see Shadow Poetry.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Saturday Mix: Poem – Villanelle – “Dog of the House” #amwriting #saturdaymix #dVerse #poetry 


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Saturday’s Mix prompt based on ‘sounds‘ in certain locations. I’ll be combing it with #dVerse prompt on using a Villanelle style of poetry thanks to Frank Hubeny at Poet’s pub for hosting that. 

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Credit: Edith Hill

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Quiet before the bustling crowds come out, 

An awkward silence, distant noise undefined; 

Then there is barking, a chorus sings, shouts —

Dog owners fumbling, sidewalks to new route —

Down verdant trails, nature whispers sublime, 

Many dogs scrambling, playing, all about,

The new dogs can’t win, woof triumphant shouts.  

Man’s best friend loves parks, rabbits smell divine.  

Aromas, squirrel chirps, bird tweets, still mouses. 

Mouse souvenir of pride for mom, on her couch; 

As Dad showers above, Mom’s scent resides, 

Flowers, citrus, sprayed here and there in spouts. 

Dad’s Dior cologne sprayed so thickly it clouds, 

Sneezing many times, scent too strong, despised

Mom’s heels click, goodbye kisses resounding

Leaning love, licking smacking kisses now, 

Mom’s laughter sprinkled, Dad’s chuckles confide,  

He loves me, she loves me; for this is my home. 

From a sick dog on the city streets found, 

Home protector, sonorous barks resound. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved