Fashion, Fiction, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Jolly Sailor Boys” #amwriting #movies #mermaids #poetry


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Photo Challenge. 

——–

Credit: Natalie Fedajeva

——

I used to be a mermaid, 

They stole me from my sea.

My sisters cried and sang for me;

But no siren’s song, 

Could sway those ‘Jolly Sailor Boys.’ 

I used to be a mermaid, 

They stole me from my sea. 

Said I had to walk and run, 

But my legs were far too weak.

I stumbled, I fell,

These legs are pure Hell;

Some incantations, my tail was gone.  

I used to be a mermaid, 

They stole me from my sea. 

My tears required for eternal life, 

They fell in floods and showers, 

I drowned them in my tears. 

Gaia’s answer from the sky, 

Her thoughts of ‘Jolly Sailor Boys.’ 

My teeth tainted razors, 

Ripping throats for dread,

Of what a Captain would do to me, 

A creature pure, unperverted, 

Mermaid tears were dredged. 

I used to be a mermaid, 

They stole me from my sea.

A siren’s ancient rage awoke, 

Became my new morality.  

And though I long for waves, 

My sisters who live below;  

I cannot even swim in the corner, 

The ocean’s rejected me.  

It seems to me, my tears did mix,  

In some fountain of ancient yore;

My only place to freely swim, 

So I swam all the more. 

I used to be a mermaid, 

They stole me from my sea, 

Now I bathe in this youthful fountain, 

No immortality I wanted;

Only my home in open seas. 

I wasn’t given a choice, 

Only vast eternity. 

Forever I was altered, 

And one by one they drank; 

Those ‘Jolly Sailor Boys’ dead fell, 

Into the sea, their bodies compelled. 

I used to be a mermaid, 

They stole me from the sea

Brought me to gates of immortality,  

Trapped in a glass crate. 

And when some old spells, 

Had me walking regularly; 
I hummed my mother’s tune, 

Singing for the lost men, 

No more ‘Jolly Sailor Boys;’ 

For Gaia turned on them. 

I used to be a mermaid, 

They stole me from my sea

Though, I’m now no mermaid, 

I sing the same old tune, 

I’ll sing it long, in a siren’s song, 

Luring ‘Jolly Sailor Boys,’ 

That tore me from my sea; 

Because when I was once a mermaid, 

Those ‘Jolly Sailor Boys’ stole me. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Bop - 6 lines, refrain, 8 lines, refrain, 6 lines, refrain, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem- Bop – “The Waves Call — Forget” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——–

Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode

———

Forget all your cares come play in the sand, 

Forget the whole world, your work, all your plans.

The day’s a sunny bright yellow sapphire,

Lemon drops in the sky, lay back respire. 

The air here is fresh, ocean salted breaths,

 Ponder the waves, forget life’s a mess.

In the ocean hear the waves call — forget.

Life can be a barbed wire fence keeping out,

Trapping  you within the cluttered house. 

When you try to get out, take the fence down,

The barbs of your wall pierce your hands– you frown.

Watch the tear drops, the blood drops compile, 

Regrets; tears burn tomorrow’s hope with ire. 

So escape the fence, leave the caged prison,

Yonder lies the beach, waves rise, spark freedom.

In the ocean hear the waves call — forget.

You don’t have to impress anyone here,

Close your eyes and nap; read a book, dear. 

A story well known or a new one found;

Floppy hat, sunscreen, ice cream downed

Hear the gulls cry, squish toes in the sand,

No need to be aware, just understand —

In the ocean hear the waves call — forget.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Synchronicity Poetry - 8,8,2, -- surprise ending last 2 stanzas, Writing

Photo Challenge: Poem – Synchronocity – “Art Hell” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. 

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Credit: Kyla @ Deviantart

——–

I’m a vivid monument, 

I’m his lover cruelly tricked, 

Just art. 

——

Result of magic powerful, 

A priest with such evil intent,

Wounds me. 

—–

For I had thought the toxic paint,

That burned my skin would kill me,

I wished.

——-

I only pass out the priest laughs, 

Eyes glinting, evil smile, tells me —

“Enjoy.”

—–

For this was my punishment,

Tempting our ‘leader’ with my love, 

Trapped now. 

—–

Not quite alive, not quite so dead,

My man, the leader, loves artwork, 

He stares.

—–

I wonder if he recognizes,

A shadow of his beloved gone, 

Each night. 
—–

He comes with pain others cannot —

Ever see; I could’ve been his, 

Soft place. 

—–

Never can I speak, the priest’s curse, 

Ensured silence, a spell took —

My voice.

—–

—–

I pray to God help me find —

My love jumps as my voice cries,

Returned. 

——

Becomes aghast, furious, 

He thinks me a dream I tell him,

The truth. 

—-

Our stories, our love, a life —

We’d planned and he listens,

With tears.

—–

Then such rage summoning priest,

Who is forced to repair me from this, 

Art hell.

——

I’m taken from between life and —

Death; restored to my former self, 

I’m saved.

—–

My hero never gave up on —

Me; didn’t believe I ran, now 

We’re us.

—-

Priest I have no knowledge of, 

My guy, our leader was enraged, 

Priest dead? 

—-

Or suffering hell as I?  

Two years in art trapped, lost; 

Now free.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: The Weeping Willow and The Rabbit #amwriting #flashfiction #talltales


Thanks to Bastet for hosting Saturday Mix on MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. Today’s theme is ‘Tall Tales.’ 

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Credit: GSK 16

——-

The sky was falling in large drops of blue glass. The weeping willow was the first to notice so she cried. Her tears gathered creating a river with the drops from the sky. 

A mighty rabbit hopped by, he was a bit confused as to where all this water was coming from. 

“Ms. Willow why are you crying a river?” he asked. 

“I’m a weeping willow and the sky is falling haven’t you noticed?” 

The rabbit nodded, “Well yes of course it falls. Each time it rains, snows, or hails, the sky falls.” 

“You need to stop crying. You’re going to drown everyone in your tears. I’m the  king of all animals, you better listen to me.” 

“Why?” 

“My friend is a massive blue ox named Babe. His friend named Paul chops down trees for a living.” 

The willow immediately stopped weeping and the rabbit’s triumphant roar was heard throughout the forest. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, Joseph's Star - 1,3,5,7,7,5,3,1 syllable, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

Music Prompt: Poem – Joseph’s Star – ” Timeless Love” #amwriting #poetry #music 


Thank you to Sanaarizvi of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s music prompt, “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri. 

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“A Thousand Years” – Christina Perri 

https://www.youtube.com/shared?ci=32xAgiUFMLI

——-

Credit: Fine Art America: Couple Kissing by Giuseppe Cristiano

—–

Scared, 

Falling is,

Never easily —

Done; it’s aggravating ’cause, 

I’m helplessly facing, 

My soul’s connection for —

A thousand,

Years. 

—–

I, 

See before —

Me; you’re standing close,

Darling, don’t be afraid ’cause, 

I’m not letting go, loved you —

For a thousand years,

Always for, 

More.

—–

With,

Each breath I —

Take, every hour meant, 

Was closer to you; our time —

Drawing near; ending my fears;

A thousand,

Tears. 

—-

Please, 

Don’t be scared, 

Everyday I knew you were coming. 

Time neared, stepping closer to —

Loving you starting, 

Thousands of, 

Years.

—–

Time’s

Frivolious.

Because forever, 

We’ll love for a thousand years;

Love you milenias more,

Our love is timeless, 

Together, time —

Stops.

—–

Knew, 

Believed the —

Day would arrive I’d —

Find you eventually, we’ve —

Thousands of years being us;

Life to share, to keep —

Our future, 

Warm.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Grandpa’s Fish Pond #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks too Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: Sora Sangano – http://www.unsplash.com

——

Phallon watched the fish swim in the pond his Grandpa had installed in his backyard. He enjoyed visiting his Grandpa each Saturday. Grandpa had put the pond in because young Phallon loved the fish so much as a toddler; ‘fishes’ had been his first word. 

Now he sat with Grandpa who asked him about school and of course the girls in his school. Uncomfortable, Phallon wished Grandpa didn’t ask him about that. 

Grandpa simply laughed,”Phallon, I’m only teasing you. It’s good you have friends who are girls and that there are girls you like. This Jennifer, have you asked her out?”

Phallon’s face turned red, “Yeah we’ve gone to a movie together and bowling. I want her to be my girlfriend but her parents say she’s too young to have a boyfriend.” 

Grandpa nodded a smile on his face, “You’ll find the right one when you’re older. When I saw your Grandma the first time, my heart lept out of my chest. I wonder if I will ever meet that right girl of yours and see you marry her?” 

Phallon felt uncomfortable again, “Why wouldn’t you be there Grandpa? You’re only eighty-one?” 

Grandpa patted Phallon’s hand then squeezed it, “You know, my boy, I’ve been sick a long time. It’s a battle I’ve mostly conquered, but my strength is waning these days.When you get married someday, think of your old Grandpa, okay?” Phallon nodded feeling a lump in his throat.

Two-years later Grandpa succumbed. Phallon was sixteen and felt raw inside. He returned to the fish pond in Grandpa’s  back yard. He noticed the fishes were floating and the reality of life made tears wet his cheeks. In the mess of the last two weeks including Grandpa’s funeral, no one had remembered to feed the fish. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

One-Hundred-Word Wednesday: Poem – English Sonnet – “Sad Sonnet” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesdays


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesdays.

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Credit: Bikurgurl

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Answer my tears all the fears my eyes show clear

They’re crystals melting glass, no thought shown. 

Ice drops of dew, hands cupped close to mold —

Truth of the matter — hearts must mend own fears.

—–

Cracks, rips, tears all sewn shut; your favorite dear —

Toy held close, repaired; fine cracks don’t hold, 

They grow deeper; fractured, you’re unfolded, 

Not yourself, too many holes to conceal. 

—–

Something from nothing; super glue won’t seal, 

Remains of a woman, broken, chipped, fools gold. 

Dusty forgotten, hands wrinkle, behold —

Beauty untold; someone precious revealed . 

—–

Leave me not alone in this life, let me —

Care, be cared for, let love in me be seen. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved


Blitz poem - 48 Lines, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry

Photo Challenge: Poem – Blitz – “Returning” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. 

——

Credit: Mario Gervals

——

Aurora-borealis paints the sky

Hues of light to charm

Charm the cold from old man winter’s grasp

Charm the sky hovering, colours delightful still

Still as the snow when it stops

Still as the young man in the living room

Room in a home where he’s troubled 

Room of the television — loud sports

Sports of the freezing weather

Sports loved best

Best loved is hockey

Best loved he watches, engrained 

Engrained in the screen

Engrained in the game 

Game on and he misses his wife as she drives away

Game of his wife searching for time

Time ended when she him left 

Time is new for her; he doesn’t care now

Now she moves on 

Now she is but thrilled

Thrilled, yet in a storm she drives

Thrilled to have escaped without another fight 

Fights always happen

Fights which got worse, never stopped

Stopped when she rethought her life

Stopped when she said, “I’m gone” 

Gone while the new sliver of a TV loudly plays

Gone, he knows it it, feels depressed

Depressed at the mess of his life

Depressed, slight lines etched into his face

Face with red eyes

Face with mouth stifling sobs

Sobs because she’s gone for good

Sobs because she gazed at him appalled

Appalled because he always yelled

Appalled because he’s why ‘they’re finished

Finished forever, she’s free

Finished, but she’s not safe in such a blizzarding storm

Storm outside flinging snow in his face

Storm outside, her car didn’t make it far

Far off and tired the look in her eyes

Far off but tears streaming ’cause she’s stuck 

Stuck in the bank of snow 

Stuck in her life, no escape

Escape life here, without him?

Escape yet, she’s glad, for her, he came 

Came, so she takes him back; he understands now

Came, so they return to times where they showed

Showed love, affection where no distance divides 

Now acts of love, little things, change the future

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Synchronicity Poetry - 8,8,2, -- surprise ending last 2 stanzas, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Synchronicity – “Safe” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry #BellLetsTalk


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt which is: a story through the eyes of a child. 

——

Credit: UnSplash

——-

Mommy you let go my hand, I’m quick–

Mere seconds pass, I’m laughing freely, 

I run. 

—–

Mommy, I’m giggling what it is —

Feeling free, everyone looks at me, 

Smiling.

—–

Down the aisles of Superstore, 

You’ve lost me, can you find me now? 

I’m fast.

——-

Boxes, packages to pull down, 

Grinning, happy, into candy, 

Sitting —

——-

Waiting for me on the shelf are —

My favourite chocolate and gummies;

Mommy? 

——

Where’d you go? I think I’m lost, 

I’m scrunching my face, tears begin, 

Where’d you —

——-

Go? Mommy; don’t leave me here now, 

Some lady grabbed my hand and —

It hurts.

——

She won’t let go, dragging me off, 

Stranger danger; no one helps me,

Let Go! 

*****

It’s okay now, Mommy is here

Holding you close, grabbing your hand;

She runs.

——

Scared I’ll turn her in and I should, 

Who tries to kidnap a child in —

Daylight? —

——–

 At all? Cannot trust, stay near me, 

Now you know why and you’re safe, 

From harm.

—–

Mommy will never let you go, 

Her precious boy, her sweet sunshine, 

Is hers.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
 

Actor/ Actress, Beauty, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Free Verse, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

———

Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

——

As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

——

Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

—–

You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

—–

Credit: Laces and Tiaras

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.