#OctPoWriMo – Day 7/Tale Weavers: Poem – Blitz – “Still So Unreal” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry 


Today’s OctPoWriMo theme is going to far or crossing the line. I’m combining this prompt with  Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Taleweavers prompt on rejection. 

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——

Unnumb the pain, make me feel

Unnumb the pain it’s so unreal

Unreal enough that it’s too real

Unreal enough that hurts all the more

More was hurtful, you crossing lines

More was insidious and harmful 

Harmful, you were supposed to protect

Harmful because my wounds are jagged 

Jagged life, you’ve blessed me with 

Jagged life, do you know how I feel? 

Feel, do you feel at all? Have empathy? 

Feel, is your body as numb as mine? 

Mine is aching and empty

Mine has a hole in my stomach

Stomaching your betrayal

Stomaching your cruelty 

Cruelty that lingers and nips

Cruelty that cannot be blocked out

Out of my mind, my body 

Out of my heart, my soul 

Soulless, why’d you have to be this way? 

Soulless, saw your vacant eyes and knew all along 

Along, I go away from you, 

Along I go with opportunities 

Opportunities to thrive and learn

Opportunities to be a better person 

Person who loves

Person who forgets

Forgets your terrible denial, rejection

Forgets that I crossed the line 

Lines demarcated that said don’t ask for more, 

Line demarcated that brought up your walls

Walls, fortified structures 

Walls, yours, aren’t my fault

Fault lies with us both

Faults, we’re all of of us flawed 

Flawed as together we had too many 

Flawed as the night without stars

Stars as your eyes that drew me in 

Stars going off with your velvet touch

Touch, the experience not forgotten

Touch, yours is but a memory

Memory, nostalgia not reality 

Memory of the best times and the worst

Worst memories at the end

Worst memories haunt me still

Still I’ve moved on and I’m happy

Still I’ve found a way to love life

Life has no garuntees, but I’m okay 

Happy, today, that word describes me well

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Free Verse – “The a Hobbit Hole” #poetry #flashfiction #dVerse #amwriting 


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF. Also thanks to Paul of Poet’s Pub for hosting a #dVerse poem in the form of a blessings poem. 

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Credit: Erick Wicklund

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There are days,

I cannot think, I’m trapped, 

Cornered as a sleek red fox, 

The Predator’s main course. 

Searching for my escape, 

Running through the woods. 

Tripping on my, 

Shaking aching legs. 

Adrenaline quicksilver, 

Sliding through my veins. 

Lungs gasping;

A haunted, hunted child. 

By chance, by divinity, 

A blessing found, 

My ‘hobbits hole.’ 

My home sweet home;

A hiding place, 

To wait out enemies, 

Gnashing, clashing, 

With pointed teeth. 

Vicious men of ill repute, 

Fortune or fate despise. 

A crook in a fallen tree; 

A hole to spy for danger, 

As I veil myself beneath, 

Thick leaved branches, 

Cut from surrounding trees, 

Snuggled in my hobbits hole, 

Wishing Lord God, 

Bless me in my tiny hiding place. 

Leave me unconfronted, 

Unfound, an illusion —

Of invisibility to threats.

Basking in your security, 

Graciously provided, 

Let this not be the end. 

And I could’ve been wrong, 

I could’ve lost hope, 

I could’ve been dinner;

Torn apart by savage beasts. 

But serenity entered, 

On angel’s transparent wings, 

Calmed my heart, quickening. 

While the peace that —

Passes all understanding; 

Surrounded and enfolded me. 

When the dread made, 

 My skin crawl. 

When I bit my lip drawing blood, 

Sharp teeth approaching, 

A beast breathing  heavily, 

A brutal carnivore. 

Wickedness sure to devour; 

But he found me not, 

I was blessed, I was safe. 

Invisible to the lion, 

Remaining in my hobbit hole, 

Fortitudes fortress, 

My hiding place. 

And when all was safe, 

 Morn’s light illuminated. 

The dread of frights, 

Of the forest night, 

The predators that maim, 

And kill, disappeared into, 

The earth’s bowels. 

I prayed, gave thanks, 

And into sunlight I fled, 

The prey who survived. 

So blessed with life, 

Living to fight another night, 

Another beast, 

Serenity my companion, 

My relief. 

——–

©Mandobelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Writing Prompt: Fiction – The Myriad Storm #amwriting #fiction 


Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Sunday’s Writing Prompt Challenge. I’m still playing catchup from NaPiWriMo and A to Z,  a month later. Oloriel has given us some detailed names of colors to use in a story of some ‘peculiar ‘ kind. 

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Credit: Oloriel – MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

———

Amaranthine clouds covered the sky as nighttime faded suffusing the morning with clouds of titian and vermillion. Jacob gazed up looking for the curulean sky, he’d even settle for a griege sky. But against all hope the curulean sky never arrived and erythaean red mixed with aubergine llfusing with a sickly viris blackening the sky and ocean. 

The vibrant erythaean red came with a warning Jacob the fishermen could not ignore. The quote his great- grandfather used, that his Grandpa used, and his dear father also mimicked, flickered through Jacob’s mind: “Red sky at night, sailors delight; red sky at mourn, sailors be warned.” 

The ocean was churning now, a deep dank lovat and zinnobar. The waves crashed against Jacob’s tiny boat. He felt most insignificant in the myriad of colors he’d witnessed this dawn and in the vastness of the angry ocean. A crack of lightning had Jacob jumping, hurrying to bring the fishing boat to harbor before the storm came closer. He pulled on ropes and adjusted his sails, steering the boat towards land that appeared close but was too far away. 

He mumbled ‘Hail Marys’ and hoped above hope, soaked to the bone, as the ocean threatened to capsize his fishing boat. Then, brilliant xanthic lightning hit the boat and Jacob bumped his head, falling unconscious the waves battered his ship. 

The next thing he knew, he was lying on a sandy beach, his boat mostly undamaged sitting further up shore. He didn’t know how he or his boat had managed to survive but he gazed up at the clear azure sky and thanked God for his good fortune. His favourite color was a sunny azure blue it meant tranquility and a good day’s catch. It was quiet hope being strengthened after the horror of a storm. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers: Fiction – Your Flamhsures are Showing #fiction #amwritimg #taleweavers 


To begin with I want share with you an amazing blog post from the writer Kristen Lamb. I would have rebogged,  it was not able to so here is the link to one of her latest posts called Shame, Shame, We Know Your Name — Or Do We? Shame in Fiction. If you are fiction writer it’s a great piece on how shame motivates most characters in many stories and novels. Also follow her blog: Kristen Lamb Author, Blogger, Social Media Jedi for practical and honest advice on writing. 

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Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Tale Weavers writing prompt. Today’s prompt is to write making sense of ‘Nonsense’ and use the word flamhsures in a poem or story as a verb or a noun. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie – Michael 

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“You can’t go to school with your flamhsures showing,” Mina told her young son Todd. 

He looked at her and rolled his eyes. For an eight-year old he had become too cool for his parents. It seemed to Mina that kids were growing up so fast these days and that it was a shame they were. 

Mina watched Todd from the front door as he walked to bus to attend third grade. She sighed knowimg how embarrassed Todd would be as his flamhsures were still visible. 

She knew the other kids would make fun of Todd at school for this so Mina quickly walked to the end of her driveway yelling: “Todd come back here a moment. I need to ask you something.” 

Todd turned his head a moment and rolled his eyes at Mina. She dreaded the day that lay before him. She knew Todd arrive home upset and tearful. Mina wondered if he would still let her comfort him or if he would run to his room and yell at her after his bad day. 

In some ways he was no different than his father Thomas when he was in a bad mood. Mina loved her husband but when he was upset he could be cold and distant. She was afraid that their eight-year old had inherited these traits as opposed to Thomas’s better traits. He was a good Dad and a good husband but just as Mina, Thomas had his faults too. 

When he dropped by home to have lunch with her Thomas excitedly told her about his newest project as an architect and she told him about the latest painting she had been commissioned to do. She also mentioned Todd and his flamhsures showing. 

Thomas smiled, “Todd’s a big boy. He’s almost nine and he has to learn somethings for himself. He may have a terrible day because he didn’t listen to his mother but tomorrow he’ll know better because he’ll have learned.” 

Mina sighed covering her face with her hands, “It’s difficult to think of him as more than the little guy he was such a short while ago. He is still so young and it bothers me that that kids can be so mean to others kids.” 

Thomas comforted Mina holding her close and kissing her softly before heading out the door and back to work. Mina watched Thomas leave, perturbed when she saw his flamhsures were visible too. He didn’t hear her call out as he was already on his phone and back in work mode. 

When Todd came home from school he ran in the door smiling. Mina approached talking to him with care, “It looks like you had a good day Todd? What did you do at school today?” 

Todd rolled his eyes, “Oh the usual. Some math, some writing, gym, and recess. We played soccer at recess I like playing soccer.” 

“That’s good maybe you want to play in the spring and summer again?” 

“Maybe,” Todd says shrugging. “Can I have a snack? Some cookies?” 

“Only if you have some fruit with your cookies. Did anything bad happen today, Todd?”

“Not really, Mom.” 

“Well, I was just wondering because when I called you back from the bus it was because your flamhsures were still showing and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed at school.” 

Todd giggled, “Well I didn’t really notice but then some girl pointed it out and I thought I would get made fun of but then two other boys said their flamhsures were showing too and everyone laughed. Then all the boys made their flamhsures show and we all decided to play soccer.” 

Mina giggled, “Well I’m happy to hear that. Let’s hope your father has a similar good story. He came home for lunch and his flamhsures were visible too as he went back to work. Let’s hope he isn’t embarrassed either.” 

Todd laughed eating his cookie, “Things like that don’t bother men, Mom. Look at me I’m a man and I survived. Dad will be good too.” 

Mina tried to hold back her laughter, “So you’re a man now? Not my little guy, even at home?” 

Todd grinned, “Yep, I’m a man.” 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Where Ever You Go” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday


Thanks to the lovely Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.

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Credit: Scott Webb

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This is your city, you may go where go, 

There is no divide, don’t sit, move with flow. 

Find your own kind, your worth is innate, 

A lust for adventure, has a mind not to wait.

Find your hopes, your dreams, in side streets and aves, 

Life is never what it seems, it’s about diverse paths. 

Meander down the walkways, from stores to the slums, 

Some have wealth and talk the talk, some are treated mute and dumb. 

Be not afraid to love everyone, 

Not as your sweetheart loved, but as a person, a human. 

The city is grand full of sweet times to be had, 

As you move through the days understand, be glad, 

You are granted time, to do what you love, 

To explore, with a sense of chance, to care for the unloved. 

Be kind and contrive, a life full of memories, 

Experiences survived, wherever you are led, 

Go with purpose and never forget you serve

Are blessed to be, and help others persevere. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Poem – Day 1 – Wrapped Refrain – “I’ll Pass” #amwriting #novembernotes #poetry


Today’s prompt song is “Almost Lover”by A Fine Frenzy. For me it was a song that was pretty much on repeat eight-years-ago or so. It’s a beautiful song, see music video below: 

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“Almost Lover” – A Fine Frenzy 

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http://www.singleblackmale.org

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Sail the words across my fair skin, 

The memories avail, and hurt within. 

Words can’t express heartbreak so strong, 

Words can’t make right, you did me wrong. 

If you weren’t interested, you should’ve said so first, 

If you were decent, pain wouldn’t have been a curse. 

—–

Almost lovers, the kind that hurt —

Woman the most; they’re the worst. 

Almost lovers, leading you on, 

Leading astray, in a sad song.

Don’t say you never knew, why the night ended tearful, 

You’ll never admit fault; you’ll say saw unclear. 

——

Tripped on a step, shocked at such eyes, 

Deep brown ocre, good-looks suprise. 

Not an old-man, but still too old —

For barely a woman, thoughts untold. 

She should’ve kept her distance — far away, turned around.

She shouldn’t have melted as wax, at your face proud. 

—–

Arrogantly you led her around, 

Stupidly, she tried to astound

Talking, fluttering lashes black, 

Someone should’ve gave her a smack. 

You were off limits, you should’ve have said, you knew but —

Didn’t care, liked attention, simple jerk, and man slut

—–

You hurt her greatly; her fault it —

Remains; for years cursed, her hurting;

For an apology that never —

Will come to her in forever.

Goodbye almost lover, no time to waste on you, 

Life is happening, she survived, made it through. 

——

Almost lovers, almost lovers, 

They do what they do, hurt, shove–

You into reality, so you

See they’re human, hurtful too.

Take off your blinders; modern charming has no class —

Sail the words of a liar fade; now really, “I’ll pass.” 

——-


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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Photo (Collage) Challenge: Poem – Tankas – “The Mountain’s Wrath” #amwriting #poetry 


Thank you to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s double prompt:

Laura Bloomsbury

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Black and white can change, 

Become the most flaming bright of —

Colours; yet we’re like —

Dorothy on her Kansas —

Farm, not realizing life is grey. 

Never seeing technicolor.

——–

If mountains are but smoke, 

No one who said those words knew, 

How burning orange and —

Yellow looks when your skin is —

Seared; the mountain spit lava clear.

Blew her top, melted downwards. 

——-

On to the town who, 

Had little idea but should —

Have known this day, 

No technology clued.

Their mountain could release Hell,

Sulphurous smelling, burnt Hell.

—-

Poisonous gases, 

Leaking down to the town folk, 

No chance had they when, 

Ashes fell like snow.

The worst kind of snow signals, 

The ire of the mountain’s breath.

——-

In stores, on boardwalks, 

Going about their day the same.

When she erupted, 

No one cared at first.

But the ash and gases came, 

Killing to begin, before —

—–

Lava reached familiar,

Buildings, the library.

Homes, grocery stores, work.

Yet the sky was filled, 

She billowed out her smoke rings, 

And she was just beginning.

——-

Threy should’ve known to —

Leave earlier but no one, 

Takes responsibility;

To late to lay blame.

Run far and fast, lava spews.

Keep going magma flows, kills.

——

No Dante’s Peak is —

This; only mother nature’s, 

Roaring and giving, 

Life as she takes it.

Many die unaware, don’t see, 

Never knew today would be —

The end: waiting done, 

Here comes the promised one near.

Yet some survived it.

Never took lightly, 

Those words: A Mountain is noth –

ing but smoke — they lived through it.

—–

Those who rebuilt knew, 

As the lava and fire burnt their —

Homes, loved ones to crisps. 

Beware the mountain;

Geologists trained don’t know, 

When she’ll yield furious wrath.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reseved 

A Late Night’s Tale: Memories of What Was


  
 You can let yourself be stressed out and take everything upon yourself. You can force yourself to do too much when you know that you should stop. You don’t think “me” time is needed; you think it’s a bit selfish. Then you break, you shatter. The person you become is not someone you recognize. It is you at rock bottom and you wonder if there is a method of putting yourself back together. You wonder if you can ever be whole again. Because right now you are empty. The busyiness and fast rhythm of time ticking  can never be stilled. You were never told to be careful, to slow down.

 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
You ignored the signs that things weren’t right. You thought maybe you had a bad flu or ongoing cold. You thought a trip to the medicenter would make it all better. That you could put band-aids over the ever widening crack in your persona. You thought you could hide behind laughs, smiles, and declarations that you were feeling terrific. You never said how tired you were, how you lay awake at night. How this ‘thing’ started to creep up on you until it owned you and had you shuddering and suffering, bracing for impact. Your breath was shallow, you were lost beneath the pain. You became your pain and the torture of what you had become ate at your insides so that you wouldn’t eat; you weren’t interested. You thought it would make it easier on everyone if you would fade away. You suffered. No one is able to handle suffering at first but you grew used to it. You entertained suffering in the drawing room of your mind over endless cups of tea. Your world was a dark dank prison that you couldn’t escape. You wished for light to rain on you but all you got was a few cinders of fire. You became angry, blamed God, blamed the world, blamed your parents for giving you such genes, for your existence. And when you were at the deepest and most pitifullness of your trial you saw a candle in the window of your soul and held your frost bitten hands to the flame and began to soak in the warmth.

 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
You lit more candles. You felt the heat rise through your limbs and pierce the empty places you had inside of you. You began to morph into a creature you scarce dreamed you could be. You changed, slowly, and methodically. It was a process but soon the darkness became twilight and you knew the worst was over. These were waters you could swim in now. The shore was close at hand, and landing on the beach you cried tears of joy. Your frail body was regaining strength and mobility. Your tortured mind became clear and your thoughts became peaceful and you smiled for the first time in ages. The sun came up that day, and didn’t go down. It was a special day. You had recovered yourself and found in your suffering that you were stronger then you knew. Strength was in your heart and soul. You were fortified and built up. And the next time you fell, you got back up. You didn’t let yourself get sucked down into the prison you left alive. You didn’t let your life become over run thinking there was always something you had to do and couldn’t miss. You learned to cope and learned what you were missing wasn’t as good as you thought it would be. You made choices for the better. You lived to tell your tale; others do not.

 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.