November Notes: Poem -Day 9 – Blitz – “The Darkest World” #amwriting #poetry #novembernotes 


Today’s prompt song is “Cupid Carries A Gun” by Marilyn Manson.

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“Cupid Carries A Gun” – Marilyn Manson

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Credit: http://www.steamyrainingcards.wikia.com

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Witch drums pounding

Witch drums, I’ll escape your hell

Hell is the death in your eyes

Hell is the blankness in your stare

Stare at today, world has changed

Stare at today, yet we’re all here afraid

Afraid of your spiders

Afraid of your mangled crowns

Crowns are for glory

Crowns aren’t for the gory

Gory I predict your future will be

Gory I predict as your trigger finger pulls

Pulls into hate

Pulls us into helplessness

Helplessness, you say hold your hand 

Helplesssness, if I give in, I am damned 

Damned by your words

Damned by your voice

Voice of sultry sin

Voice of evil intent 

Intent of voice to charm 

Intent of voice to bring pain and shoot 

Shoot your arrow through the hope in me

Shoot your arrow through the hope in this world 

World you’ve with your private hell

World is not yet without hallejeuhs 

Hallejeuhs set me free

Hallejeuhs have more power

Power greater than the wretched Cupid you’ve become

Power greater than your hand scrunching tight my own 

My own prison in your grasp

My own hell is you, on earth

Earth which you blacken 

Earth which you pollute 

Pollute our minds with lies

Pollute our minds with lyrics

Lyrics sung, no love song, you’re no Cupid 

Lyrics screamed, you’re the pitch of dark

Dark of night without hope

Dark of night unfolds its wrath

Wrath so great, I hold my Halo

Wrath so great I stutter my prayers

Prayers so intent, my Halo is safe

Prayers so intent, your tar-black is smothered by light

Light washes away your petrude charade 

Light shines upon your malicious deeds

Deeds should be done to bring light, not frighten

Deeds should be done to bring light, not frighten 

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©Mandbelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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Music Friday Prompt: Poetry – Free Verse – “Silence Is A Sound.”


Thanks for the music post from Mind Loves Misery’s Menagerie. The prompt song is “Sound of Silence” by Simon and Garnfunkel. Most recently, it is noted, the band Disturbed, did a wicked version of this classic.

Also thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt words MuseProfound, and Elusive.

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http://www.lawofficer.com

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Hello darkness you’re my muse;

A have profound “visions” in my mind,

They’re haunting me again.

Such elusive beings, wisps of vapour transforming;

I’m not sure anyone will understand,

But I strum my guitar and I hum the tune, 

A melody to haunt profoundly through the decades.

Darkness, friend or foe? 

Who would know silence has a sound?

What is the sound of silence, no one ever knows? 

If darkness is the place I most hide, 

Where the “seeds” of this “vision” keep;

Than why do I wander “streets“with “lamps . . . stabbing,” 

My eyes in the cold empty street?

How does that light touch the silence elusive

Silent isn’t a concrete thing.

It’s not physical, so how do lights hurt silence? 

How do you not notice all those “people“(thousands), 

And hear their voices while they stay silent?

How do you know what they are “hearing?”

Only they know if they’re “listening;”

And the “songs“they sing in silence –silence would mean, 

You couldn’t hear anything sung, 

Or know the “song“they theoretically, could sing.

And if no one dares “speak,” somehow I think, 

The silence still eludes them.

And if you say silence is a “cancer grow[ing];”

I’ll tell you what peace I find in it, 

When “fools” they do not “speak;”

But you ring your voice, it echoes,

And you know, no one with silence is disturbed,

So your voiceless voice like “raindrops falling,”

 Is silence never heard.

Can silence be heard or unheard?

A paradox, perhaps? 

Are you sheep to the slaughter to this “neon god;

And what “neon sign flashed” in “warning?”

If the “sign“was a god what did it warn, 

That you were all sheep being led astray? 

And who is this “prophet?”

They’re so many to speak, Elijah or Danial?

The Islamic Mohammed?

And “tenement halls” which from came “whispers,” 

They’re overcrowded apartment buildings.

Apartments with small rooms, where people —

Are stuffed, having no personal space.

Even here, is there no silence which has sound?

Wouldn’t it be a dirty place, no room to move,

To breathe, to live, — to find peace?

Yet the words of said “prophet” are, 

On the “subway” walls.

Means I think, the writings on the wall

Or referring to people stuffed into trains,

 And metros as cattle too? 

I think in the thunderous silence, 

Everyone is missing what’s coming;

And no one knows the truth or breaks the silence. 

Yet a few “whispers” I detect,

 Elusive for their sound;

And silence rings and breaks sound barriers, 

A sound which is never heard. 

But you dear listener, hear the sound profoundly clear;

And wonder yet, how silence is a sound? 

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“Sound of Silence” – Disturbed 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Heart Song” #amwriting #poetry


wwwsharinmarieklein.ming.net

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What songs do you sing?

As the evening bell peels, 

What notes make your heart feel real? 

What melody do you go to sleep by? 

The softest and most beautiful voice, 

Singing in your ear, 

A mother to her child, 

Rubbing your cheeks.

What songs do you sing?

As you play your favourite tunes? 

Those remembered from bygone days?

The most popular hits, fantastic or plastic?

What notes invade your mind? 

Parts of a song playing over again, 

Because you love a section so much, 

You could hear it fifty times.

What songs do you sing?

To guide your heart through pain, 

What songs make you heal?

Make you angry and feel used?

Such a brilliance of tunes and melodies exist,

What’s your heart song? 

The one only you and God know,

The most beautiful words, 

Your Grandma used to sing, 

Or your Dad made up for you as a child.

What songs do you sing? 

May they be be sung load and clear, 

For within music we find a soul connection, 

With each and every person alive.

It’s that favourite song on a Saturday night, 

Everyone belts out and sings.

It’s the song of you and your beloved together.

It’s the song as you pass from this life to the next.

What songs do you sing? 

Only you know the vital songs, 

The tunes you won’t forget, 

The ones that tremble out your lips, 

On the brink of death, 

Your heart songs are clear,

In the end let no one ask, 

What songs do you sing? 

For knowing you they will know, 

The melody of your life, your purpose met.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Minor FT Creature – Minute – “Twittering”


  

And now, for our prompt (optional as always!) Just as Rosa Jamila’s poems often sound like they come out of a myth or fairy tale (and not always one with a happy ending), today I challenge you to write a poem in the voice of minor character from a fairy tale or myth. Instead of writing from the point of view of Cinderella, write from the point of view of the mouse who got turned into a coachman. Instead of writing from the point of view of Orpheus or Eurydice, write from the point of view of one of the shades in Hades who watched Eurydice leave and then come back. Happy writing!

For more information please see NaPoWriMo

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The bird who sings melodically posed,

Twitter exposed,

Singing with notes,

Snow White songs wrote.

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Voice of angel, bird sings lyrics,

Fly spherical, 

No matter when,

Melodies send.

—- 

Eating crisp red apple, evil hag gives,

Her eyes wide strive,

Eat not apple,

Eve’s own pupil. 

—–

Dimly lit girl, breath of life left her,

Creatures of fur,

Point to a Prince

This Prince, I wince.

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A bird, Snow calls, tweets melodies.

Kiss. Two lovelies.

All well, I’ve heard.

Stop calling birds.

—–

A birds, not just harmony.

Mates eventually,

Songs for blue eggs,

Snow White she begs —

—-

Let the birds be free,

You’ve no need of our twittering.

Look online now,

Our page is overpopulated.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Fan Letter – Septolets – ” Dear Jennifer Lawrence.” 


img_1070-1

Yesterday, we wrote portraits of families. Today, let’s turn our vision outward, and write fan letters. I challenge you to write a poem in the form of a fan letter to a celebrity. Now, this could be a celebrity from long ago, and needn’t be an actor or singer (though it could be). You could write to George Washington or Dorothy Dandridge, Marie Curie or The Weeknd. Happy writing!

For further information please visit NaPoWriMo.

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http://www.geeknation.com
 
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Dear Jennifer 

Lawrence, I’m —

In awe;

Such —

Talent,

You have,

Acting, singing;

You’re classy.

———

And you’re,

Hilarious sometimes,

Your roles,

Are —

Strong —

Women who,

Are shamelessly 

Themselves, truthful.

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The Hunger

Games, one 

Of my

Favourite,

Series,

Where Katniss, 

‘The girl 

On fire,’

Won finally.

——

And in, 

Mockingjay Part

One, you

Sang

About

“The Hanging

Tree;” haunting

Voice sung.

—–

Before that, 

Was Silver 

Linings Play

Book.

Showing,

Us a women

Depressed could 

Be Amazing.

——

You’re beautiful

But you’re 

Real, not

Fake.

I

Admire that.

In public;

You’re authentic.

——

I see,

Many years,

Of acting,

Ahead,

Your,

Talent shines —

Through and,

You’ve character.

—–

In Joy,

You are 

A determined

Business —

Woman,

Feeding your,

Family, while —

Becoming successful.

——

In X-men,

You play,

The nearly 

Dark,

‘Mystique.’

All blue,

With curves,

Becoming others.

——

I was 

Glad in,

Days of 

Futures

Past,

You stayed, 

Playing for,

What’s right.

——

In X-men —

Apocalypse next, 

You’ll be,

True,

‘Mystique,’

Mutant striving,

for life,

On earth.

——-

I’m in

Awe of

Your abilities

To–

Cause,

People to,

Feel emotions,

You’re timeless.

—–

You’ll be —

A strong, 

Woman remembered.

Witty,

Sharp,

Thank you, 

For sharing,

Your talent.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Absolut Apeach – with Song and Dance


I don’t know what the future holds, it’s vapour and ash in the palm of my hand. I try to tell myself, time will tell, but my thoughts are a muse that inspires; the present feels like I’m singing an epicedium, a word that has meaning to mourn;

It’s so challenging to be sitting here and waiting for the funeral to end; hello, Adele, can you hear me crank up something with a beat and dancing feet will swarm. I am looking for that lamp that always guides my feet, to take me out of depressing hymns and into the feelings of the warm breath of dawn, and life, and being a part of something outside myself and my musings. 

Sing a cheerful song, grab a partner and make a connection, a reflection in the looking glass; the print of today’s paper is bigger, but so was last night’s complications, corrections, don’t be so dull or forlorn. I am waiting for such answers, a teacher marking tests, never finding the perfect words, until one student finally understands the form. And with all of this frantic writing, we need translation we need more words, slang, and hyperbolation is the night’s score;

A rhythm finally knocking, some tapping, the sound of a thousand voices humming, to the typing of a sentence, say the right words, let learning explode. Implosions are the stars delight, it implies a meaning that can be found, in the exestential crisis explained by all this science; faith is not only one word.

And you might go hopping quietly down the rabbit hole, but drink the tea and eat the cakes, now your bonkers it’s too late; in all the madness, and hats that we wear in life, to let the mouse out of the tea pot and bring peace to so much, guiless sneaks evil, in the form of mockery, and jesting — it’s just a joke that a cat can only understand.

If we pick up some beats, will slumber cease, can I find some elaboration? One time, on hellos, and goodbyes. I’m not coming back, the grass is greener here. Don’t you know that’s not always just some saying, to keep people from being escapists and running to the otherside.

Ground at our boots, lets let the melody unfold in loops, candy canes on parade, no Christmas yet; there’s snow to make us tremble, the semblance of the night is roughly raging and you can’t just go inside you need to stay and improvise; it’s a party for the roaring of the singing voices, and those that dance suggested.

I implore you listen and read into the gestures made awkwardly by the person talking; can you think for yourself, see the truth in motions, not emotion, that could be fake; no liars here, they can disappear. They are oblivious to these simple truths we hold so dear, keep the bell ringing for tonight we gain a truth; instead of lies, it’s a surprise, now appear. Bow low before the crowd you’ve enchanted with a voice so clear.