Published: Poem – Free Verse – SpillWords – “Silver and Gold” #amwriting #poetry #spillwords #audio


Thanks to http://www.spillwords.com for publishing this poem today. This one I had published with an audio recording. It’s called: Silver and Gold.

Credit: Brad Kunkle

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Writing Prompt: Poem – Blank Verse – “Atlantis In Popular Culture” #poetry #amwriting #history #legend 


Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt. First we are to go to Wikipedia and go to the ‘Random Article’ Button, his is our title. Second we are to HERE and find a randomly generated picture. 

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Credit: http://writingexercises.co.uk/random-images.php

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Ring the bells ring them, sound organ pipes too, 

Atlantis sinks to obscurity

Earth trembles, calls with a tune sung, 

Ring the bells; last time you’ll hear them out loud. 

Artistic endeavour, artisan’s craft, 

Carved pipes; hear the organ it booms last. 

Earthquakes, rocks tumble, falling into time. 

A void in the earth barely felt until now. 

Modern humans are obsessed by her,

A lost city never found; for it’s day —

Full of vision, construction, art, thought. 

City that felt it was the greatest, 

The gods thought otherwise; earth swallowed, 

City Atlantis whole, taking everyone. 

Down to earth’s depths, in it’s belly kept, 

Here lies Atlantis hidden, there wasn’t —

Much difference between ‘us’ now and them.

Or hundreds of cities –past, present;

Civilization thousands of years old, 

It isn’t that the the ocean and land, 

Just ended a city; it’s the people

Inside who forget about decency.  

Treating each other terribly and —

No thought for tomorrow, hearts so, 

Cold, stone rigid; they sink themselves down, 

Into the water until they’re nothing

Nothing but a dream, not even memory, 

Just something modern people wonder of, 

Forgetting lessons as Atlantis did. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poetry – Octain Refrain – “Three Lights” #amwritng #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

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Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

A night deep, the black ink deftly hiding, 

Criminals, the lost, truly evil find. 

Misdeeds better performed where every sound —

Is a nightmare calling, no justice found. 

Unrevealed secrets proffered, ungrounded, 

Realization of innocents expounding

Out here ‘neath stars, curse of night, hurt resides. 

Three light in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black ’round, 

Presence of luminescence, rats scatter . 

Lights are strong, don’t flicker, they matter. 

Bring attention to the wounded, those drowned

All their sorrows piling-up —burdens

Shine your light thrice, save them for certain. 

Demonstrate there’s another way clattering

Sing songs of broken hearts; at last they’re found. 

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round.

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round.

Though we may fear darkness, here there’s no need, 

As long as there’s light radiant, just heed. 

Never let your fears overcome, light resounds, 

Washes out creepersshadows; it centres.  

Gives hope for tomorrow, transformed life mends

Malevolence abounds, stay grounded

Light always wins —brilliance all precedes. 

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.


Photo Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Without A Sound” #amwriting #poetry #love


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt:

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Credit: Rich Howman

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Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

Swing her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift;

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All to happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Perserved in time the clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

Years slide forward, what can you do but, 

Move forward too, memories cause a rut. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found, 

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—-

Swept her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift. 

Wiggling and giggling in your —

Arms; begging to have legs on ground restored

She thought she was too heavy for your back, 

You just laughed and kept her close, said “Relax.” 

You were walking barefoot on the cool —

Wet ground, the grass made you slip, such glad fools. 

Drop of joy harnessed in a crystal glass

Kept to hold, make the precious moments last. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found,

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound.

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All too happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Lovers as close as lovers can be, rolling —

On the blanket, on grass, after strolling.

Gleam in her eyes promising heaven, 

Twist of her smile taking you to Never —

-land of pirates, lost boys, and she, Wendy, 

Picking up a sword, fighting for her when —

Pirates attacked; shoeless running in real

Life; time ceasing again, treasures for feels. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

——

Perserved in time, clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

The truth is hard to swallow, to remember

Years pass, euphoria is dismembered

Harsh realities, sickness, health; sickness wins, 

She flew away my sparrow with the wind.

Such disease sucks the life from a body, 

Hope, a religious dream from pain prodded. 

A new eternity to love, swing round with —

Dirty bare feet and love despite death’s grip. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

November Notes: Poem -Day 24 – Italian Sonnet – “The Blame”


This days song prompt is “Buses and Trains” by Bachelor Girls.


“Buses and Trains” – Bachelor Girls


woman-hiding
http://www.pinterest.com

Mom, you didn’t say, how cruel the world is,

I could blame you for it all, but I’m grown.

Teach me, I could’ve learned by your grace known.

Each day I’m run down by trains, it’s fun this–

Game; ears ringing from sound trains make hissing.

Or a bus in front of me is coming, near miss —

Only by seconds I’m safe, empty words moan.

Why do I being pulverized feel sewn

Together a quilt, with all pieces, its bliss.

How do I explain I needed guidance?

It hurts me, you decided, gave me up.

 Without your words, boys became as chocolate,

Choosing the worst, failing being grown-up.

Addicted, inhaling them, drug sate.

You could’ve taught me better, it’s too late.


img_2951-22


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Friday Fictioneers: It #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Rochelle Wissoff-Fields for hosting FF. 

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Credit: Peter Abbey

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Sorry about the tiny text, I don’t know how to fix it on the iPad. 

——-

Why is this bridge bothering me, besides a bit of claustrophobia? I can feel my adrenaline pumping, my fight or flight response taking over.

In the fading twilight, my eyes peer everywhere, searching for something, whatever is out there. As I step across the bridge it creaks. Then I swear I hear heavy breathing, a growl perhaps? I start to run and the end of the bridge is ten steps in front of me. 

Then, I am across the bridge and I hear nothing. It’s trying not to make a sound and the silence makes me sweat. Minutes pass, I believe fifteen? I sigh, shaking my head, thinking I’ve been afraid of something I imagined.

Then, it grabs me, sharp teeth sinking in; it’s too late to scream. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 23/24 –  Lento – “Art and The Fantastic” #amwriting #poetry


Prompt Day 23/24: Fantastical 

Definition: 

“1.conceived or appearing as if conceived by an unrestrained imagination;odd and remarkable; bizarre; grotesque:fantastic rock formations; fantastic designs.2.fanciful or capricious, as persons or their ideas or actions:We never know what that fantastic creature will say next.3.imaginary or groundless in not being based on reality; foolish orirrational:fantastic fears.4.extravagantly fanciful; marvelous.5.incredibly great or extreme; exorbitant:to spend fantastic sums of money.6.highly unrealistic or impractical; outlandish:a fantastic scheme to make a million dollars betting on horse races.7.Informal. extraordinarily good:a fantastic musical.” 

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http://www.artistsincanada.com

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Unrestrained, beauty of the game, 

Uncontained, no limits are found. 

Unrestrained, freedom without shame.

Uncontained, leaping with no sound. 

Undetained, words flowing amaze. 

Unconvinced mere fantastical, 

Undenied creativity

Unconceived all the possibilities, 

Undenied art — ingenuity

—–

Art, there is no limits, no bounds, 

Start, nothing ventured is the same.

Art, bizarre and odd, they surround.

Start, with words; imagination reigns. 

Impart advice: “Do What You Like.” 

Dart here, there –no right way exists.

Art, the forms of imagination, 

Dart, the fantastical persists

—–

Lento:

” A Lento consists of two quatrains with a fixed rhyme scheme of abcb, defe as the second and forth lines of each stanza must rhyme. To take it a step further, but not required, try rhyming the first and third lines as well as the second and forth lines of each stanza in this rhyming pattern: abab, cdcd. The fun part of this poem is thrown in here as all the FIRST words of each verse should rhyme. There is no fixed syllable structure to the Lento, but keeping a good, flowing rhythm is recommended.” 

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved 

#OctPoWriMo – Day 6 – Loop Poetry – “Inclusion Not Inclusive” #amwriting #poetry 


Day 5 Prompt: Tantalizing

“What do you find tantalizing? What has provoked your interest or desire recently?” 

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http://www.pinterest.com

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You can desire many things and believe

Believe you so require something —you need it

It’s vital to banish the emptiness

Emptiness, a deserted ghost town dreamed.

——

Maybe, it wasn’t a dream, walking through streets

Streets, with the sound of silence deafening, 

Deafening as a concert attended

Attended but, among crowds you’re replete

——

Perhaps, for some of us, recognition that

That, we exist –worthy of conversations

Conversations where no one talks over us, 

Us, people actually listen to and chitchat.

——

Such a tiny gift to want, people to care

Caring is scary, means we give back too

Too, we build relationships and hope

Hope we’re not hurt, overlooked, now we share.

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Plethora of tantalizing dreams, 

Dreams we hold close and in the end desire

Desire people to love and be loved by

By loving, ensuring no one’s unseen

—–

Loop Poetry is a poetry form created by Hellon. There are no restrictions on the number of stanzas nor on the syllable count for each line. 

In each stanza, the last word of the first line becomes the first word of line two, last word of line 2 becomes the first word of line 3, last word of line 3 becomes the first word of line 4. 

This is followed for each stanza. The rhyme scheme is abcb.

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Variations: 

1. Stanzas, writers choice on the number, no rhyming, the last word, first word scheme is maintained.
2. One long stanza, no limit on number of lines, no rhyming scheme, the last word, first word scheme is maintained.
3. Couplets mixed with 4 line stanzas, the last word, first word scheme is maintained in the stanzas. It can also be used in the couplets. Rhyme scheme is ab, cc, defg, hh, ii, jklm, nn, oo.
Please see Shadow Poetry for further information. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers Prompt: Poem – Octelle – “Story Line Wrote”


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this weeks prompt — Paper Back Writer:

” What is your great novel/novella/collection of short/flash fiction/poetry/ pulp paperback/graphic novel? Of course, you don’t have to write it, just write about it.

Weave any sort of tale;  in the abstract or concrete; as you or a character of yours; being accepted for publication; editing process; book tours – remember you ‘just wanna be a paperback writer.'”


paperbackwriter
Credit: http://www.revolutions5.com

I’m still working on a novel called: How Was Last Night For You? I’m editing it in second draft. Still a lot of work to do and haven’t had the time to work on it lately. This Octelle poem illustrates the story line roughly:


She wants love, but it keeps slipping,

Through her fingers, the Sirene dripping.

She’s a regular girl, too kind,

Believes in people and magic finds —

In her paranormal world sound,

Curses, mermaids, sea witch found.

Nina narrator, life gripping,

Focus and ire of a mer-witch.


John wasn’t smart at twenty-five,

Lied about girl, she cursed him live.

Where ever he wondered,

Strange events encountered.

People got hurt, women injured.

No love; witch’s wrath incurred.

Sees Nina drinking Flirtinie,

Sparks, passion, between them ignite.


A mermaid she is, sea witch too,

She’s experienced pain, heart broke through —

Victorian romance; cad —

He’d a mistress, kids they had.

Clued in after his death –cried,

Traveled, came home to new guy.

Adare never changed, men still lie.

No broken girl now -she’s Talise.


Characters wrote, story occurs,

Talise hates Nina — it’s inferred.

She cursed John left his soul burnt,

She wants John back, she’s a flirt.

Evil, she’ll never gain him through,

Her magic; Nina loves John true.

Witch’s wrath, all will suffer –die?

No one can say; writer yet edits.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “Self-Healing and Caustic” #amwriting #poetry 


http://www.123hdwallpapers.com

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The darkness conceals, filthy misdeeds. 
Hidden weapons, malovelence.

Daggers hidden in tips of boots,

Removed from suit coats, in suit linings revealed, 

To silence my heart, and I think it’s the end.

But my heart keeps beating, a hard steady beat;

I hear it alone, only in my ears because everywhere else —

There’s dead silence; but in the silence, 

My heart is a drum, banging out the beats of life and renewal, 

The thump thump, the tempo which will not end.

You’re too generous to stab me in the back,

So it must be in my chest, through the organ which loved you. 

Now my blood spills, but my heart keeps up a ‘Lub-dub,’ 

Waiting for a death which never arrives. 

There is only the sound of my blood pooling in silence.

Yet, I’m only pained by the horrific sound of nothing, 

My heart is strong and I struggle through,

Only to find I have not what most call life’s blood. 

My veins weep venom, for I run on poison — not blood.

And the vitral having leaked into ventricles, 

Pumps throughout my body, 

My own sickly blood healing me and —

Killing my lost love, a murder; 

All those exposed, the blood is poison for.

I’m overcome by sadness as I’m lying here, 

Heart beating, but I should be dead? 

But I’m still going strong with my blood self -healing.

A poisonous farewell I give to everyone I lose.

 I’m unaffected by a dagger aimed, 

Didn’t conceive of my body regenerating.

And my blood in the open — it ends lives.

I rise and into the night fade, as if I never was.

Tears leaking down my face, caustic themselves. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.