Writing Prompt: Poem – Quadrille – “Mother’s Warmth” #amwriting #poetry #mothers 


Thanks to Oriole from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the June 25th writer’s prompt talking about our mothers. 

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Credit: http://www.nonprints.com

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A mother is strong glue; 

Ties all together. 

So, life isn’t, 

Tattered. 

She is calm; 

Considerate. 

Recognizing conflict. 

If no one takes, 

A mother’s role; 

We cannot hold, 

To loved ones alone. 

Mother bares burdens, 

Shoulders narrow. 

Scorning fury, 

Worst feeling. 

Abused for caring, 

From sorrow. 

Those she loves, 

Blissfully unaware; 

Glue’s stretchyness, 

Limited; 

Then, torn. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved 


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Writing Prompt: Poem – Quadrille – “A Reoccuring Dream” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last weekend’s writing prompt. From the choices of titles I have chosen a reaccuring dream. As well as the terms orchid, silk tearing, and inscrutable. I’m writing a poem so no names needed. 
——–

 

Credit: Katrina Plotnikova

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Every night,

Moon haunts and chills. 

Distant bleak dawn, 

Somehow farther away. 

Inscrutable world, 

Blackness vile trees;

Reaching gnarled hands, 

Enrapture me. 

Orchid without sun, 

Wilting in black void; 

Water suctioned, 

Stolen by the nymphs. 

Embraced in their disease, 

My fragile friends. 

Nestled in roots, 

Silk screaming torn

Each night, 

Deathly mythology, 

Reoccuring dream. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Collage Prompt: Poem – Rictameter – “Books and Cherries” #amwriting #poetry #collage


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Collage Prompt.


Collage MLMM
Credit: Shawn Van Deale the woman on the left: Johnny Palacois the woman/aloe vera plant on the right.

Humming,

As the bird who’s —

Thrumming in the air,

Struggling for each flutter so

Rapid; so utterly fast it’s blurring.

My wings in flight are haze to you,

You don’t see underneath;

Desperation,

Humming.

——

Darkness,

Arising in —

My stomach, spiraling,

To the surface out of my —

Broken soul that I mend in those worlds found,

In each and every story, novels —

Ending hiding; I’m no —

Crab in my shell’s —

Darkness.

——-

In dreams,

I writhe, I twist,

Tales of old and new —

Follow me when enters Sandman,

To calm adventures stripping me of sleep.

But just as I live in my books,

I live in nightmarish —

Tales at midnight,

In dreams.

——-

Awake,

Oh, sheltered one.

Let the black smoke rise, cleanse

Your body from your shattered self,

Set free your mind, let your spirit live,

Life’s the greatest adventure,

Stories read fill gaps;

Burst forth spirit,

Awake.

———

Cherries,

You’re sexy  as,

Women who curl cherry —

Stems into knots with skillful tongues.

Unafraid to bare your body,

When it’s appreciated.

With love, you expose your —

Soul; All for ripe

Cherries.

—-

As books,

Sweet red cherries,

From the Okanagan,

A valley of delicacies.

Driving through B.C. in summer, you —

Stop at every fruit stand,

Selling juicy fruit — truths;

Cherries savored,

As books.

—–

Smokescreen,

Floats up swirls as —

Papal smoke; the blackness,

Forgiven reading thousands

Of tales, every genre, every language.

Devouring ‘reads’ as cherries,

Demons gone; living with —

Wisdom taught, no —

Smokescreen.

——

Light’s glow,

In each tale read.

Nourishes souls; keeps me —

Aching to learn, wanting to know,

Of worlds, fantastic characters —

With hubris, compelling charm.

While some characters are —

Searching hard for,

Light’s glow.

—–

Writing,

It filled holes,

Torn in souls, in hearts wrecked,

The reader became author,

Discovering within her fingers lies a —

Haven, a solace of peace, rest;

Because the story grows —

In her, exposing —

Writing.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Collage Prompt: Poem – Tankas – “Not Perfect and Better For It” #amwriting #poetry #fiction 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s collage prompt.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Poor little Anne tried,

So hard to fit in; she can’t —

Conform to their look.

Sense of presence in her glance,

Terror; they don’t know freedom.

——-

Yet Anne tries and tries,

To be a cardboard box just —

Like all the others.

Left alone at recess eating,

Ripe oranges, she’s exotic fruit.

——

But they don’t invite —

Her to their parties, Anne cries,

She doesn’t see why,

She has to be so different,

A plant from foreign soil torn.

—-

Anne grows into her —

Self; she stops being afraid,

Sees her beauty is —

That she’s unique not like all,

Those other girls, loathing her.

——

In grade school there’s this —

Small boy painted in war paint,

His Dad went to war,

He didn’t return home, saddened —

Anne helps him; he remembers —

——

So years later they’re —

Attached — those girls all want him.

But his friend is his —

Love; she was with him,

All along; the handsome man,

Love’s different, not perfect Anne.

—–

Though she struggles hard,

Hoping for female friends, he says,

He loves imperfect her,

Because she doesn’t have to

Be ‘like them’; she can be good.

——

Then she starts meeting —

Others, women who become —

Her tribe, with her guy.

The gazes of jealousy —

Double, but Anne doesn’t care.

——-

Anne is as a bird,

A swallow singing sweetly.

She’s lively, vivid;

Her eyes shine bright; he loves his —

Anne, contently, completely.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Collage Photo Prompt: Poem – Inverted Refrain – “Let Her Be Pretty” #amwriting #poetry 


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

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie
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Sunlight dies on the western skies, 

Skyscape of red ignites horizon. 

Hid indoors she inhales, won’t cry;

Phoning him still, though her heart’s torn. 

        He’ll never believe a word cried,

        Poisonous woman; he’s forlorn.

——-

Night brings blackness; fades the red, 

Setting sun was a sinful fire.

Flaws thrown in her face so she dreads —

Him; so embarrassed she’ll expire. 

         She’ll never believe his word again. 

         Venomous man conspiring. 

——

Out of anyone she should know, 

He’s not trying to hurt her, but —

He couldn’t stay quite, told her so. 

The fight ended; he’s caught and stuck. 

            No good faith, lost love, she runs, goes; 

           Days pass, he knows he lost her trust. 

——-

She wonders, “What’s high-maintenance?” 

Doesn’t he want her to look pretty? 

Tries to change her, their relationship, 

No hair-stuff, cream; bet he’ll regret. 

        Let her be; care and maintain, 

        Lipstick her therapy; don’t spit. 

——-

What of self-esteem; for at work? 

He doesn’t get, looking fine is work. 

She needs to keep up, she’d prefer —

He wouldn’t judge her, for her quirks. 

       More than makeup, clothes; she’s hurt, 

       Does he love her? Off he flirts. 

——

He didn’t think such a little thing, 

Could grow so big she’d leave him first.

Taking the dog, breaking some things, 

Remote broke; busted flat screen, irks

        Awake all night sunrises’ bring, 

        Some hope, she’ll return; for he learned —

——

Never to judge a woman by her looks, 

Let her get ready for too long. 

Let her spend cash, don’t brook, 

On small things that make her feel strong 

         She’ll come home; she’ll smile, haircut book, 

          He who is wise benefits long.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
         

November Notes: Poem – Day 30 – Italian Sonnet – “Survivor” #amwriting #novembernotes #poetry #music 


The last day of this song prompt goes to “Turnimg Tables” by Adele.

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“Turning Tables” – Adele

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Turning the tables, you say you want more, 

I’m tired of your haze, your noxious mean gaze. 

So I’m turning the tables, with heart fire I raze

I won’t let you hurt me, make my soul pour, 

As a bag of sand, my soul won’t be torn

I won’t ask, “Desert me;” you deserted first, 

Won’t be, ‘neath your thumb, you can’t slake my thirst. 

Turning tables, your game playings no more. 

Braving fierce storms, I’ll escape forever, 

I’ll save myself, return to you never

I’m a survivor, I’ll build my new life, 

No turning tables on me, your best ex-wife. 

Get out of my home, you’re not mine at all, 

I’ll turn you outside, your morals appall. 

——


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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Day 4 – Poem – Octaine Refrain – “Set Free” #novembernotes #amwriting #poetry


Today’s prompt song is “Between the Lines” by Sara Bareillas:

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Between the Lines” – Sara Bareillas 

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“Leave unsaid unspoken / Eyes wide shut unopened / You and me / Always be / You and me /Always between the lines.” 

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

——

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

I missed the obvious closing my lids.

Was blind to what you were doing, and did.

Eyes wide opened, she appeared frustration! 

I never thought I was abandoning us. 

But was I? You turned to her, your voice hushed.  

Jealousy felt, her familiar name cuts. 

 Thought we were joined, in-between the lines. 

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

——

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

Weren’t we together in love? You’re now of me rid. 

Your life is calm; tears continueously drip. 

Abandoned me; you had hers and my trust. 

Hers meant more; glad you had time to inform, 

Not letting me know and leaving me torn. 

You on your side, me on mine, the cusp —

Grieving time wasted, never said, you hid.

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

——

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

I’ve learned much; I know where I stand amidst —

Games of the heart; I’m on my line, listen! 

Imagine telling me the truth — your lust–

Was your crime, you left me hurt, decaying.

But I’ve huge strength, I’ll find the path –my way. 

Forgetting how you treated me, threw crusts —

Of your time; set free –no longer your tryst

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

——-

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – ” The Truth”


The following is a re-blog and re-edited version of an old poem I found:


pearl-in-clam
Credit: http://www.globe-views.com

The Truth is as a pearl,

polished and genuine,

Gleaming in the waters still.

Deep beneath where the —

Light dances and shimmies on the water’s surface.

It is something taken for granted, something I gave up.

It’s became this hole inside my heart burning, seething,

Twisted and warped beyond recognition.

An evil formed out of something so pure.

A repulsive ugliness which strangles me.


I want to give you that pearl let it gleam in the sun;

Let it adorn a jeweled neck, a sign of hope on a beauties breast.

But I lied and I took our security away,

I lashed myself tight to seaweed, strands of purple haze, watery worries —

They will be my grave, they will make you despise me.

For I am broken soul now and I cannot turn around.

I am set in my ways, though I wail and turn wane.

You are the light of a pearl, the soft flick of ashes, your lashes —

The soot of my pain, as I lie to you again.

The scent of those ashes, that burning acrid smell;

Reminds me of churches, of a place purer than pearls.

Where the air is so still I can hear my breath wrack,

Hear my heart beat, find forgiveness relief.

As I cry in my soul, it’s forgiven but torn.

While you pray to nothing, it separates us more.


I speak of a heart beat between you and me,

A quiet place we rest, but you make me cry in pain.

Wound me, complete me, and I bite my tongue

As my wry wit replies, to the pain on my peaches and cream,

The  bruises the aches in my legs, to find no peace.

In that, there is nothing but the trapping of my lies,

The seaweed grief come to strangle my reprieve.

A word of love, taken back, a thought, perhaps, I care little.

But when I am skin to skin and feel,

As close as to anyone that I’ve ever been,

When I would give to you what I’d give to no one else,

You turn your back, you leash me, stop my attempts to train,

So I swirl in and out of this complicated romance, the jumper in the whirlpool.

The one plashless, hopeless because she cannot take back time,

Thinks you and the pearl that glimmers in her eye, would have never been,

Had she not minced words and told you:

“I feel nothing — leave me be;

I enjoy the closeness but you are no shiny pearl of truth.”


I see the future unravel, unruly, uninvited coming near,

Ending because you refuse to believe,

In the significance of ashes and churches.

Because I refuse to live in the world,

The woman with a pearl around her neck.

It’s chocking me, the truth, it slides,

A warm gold chain that clasps the pearl in place,

Tightens the pearl around me neck,

Until lost breath is imminent.

When will I say them, those impending words?

When will I say it I cannot trust you,

I cannot tell the truth,

You choose to do works when faith is needed.

You hurt me, and care little to understand me,

My lips seal the words, close them in a box, turn the key;

Pandora’s box ready to unleash this pearl of wisdom,

Perhaps, wise words, but there are no wise-men here.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Rondel – ” Thoughts too Deep” #wordhighjuly #poetry



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http://www.magique.com.au

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Contemplate and speculate, 

Absorbed in careful thoughts explore.

Searching within, why am I torn?

Decisions difficult await.

——

I’m no philosopher ruminating,

Wonder without, within my core.

Contemplate and speculate.

Absorbed in careful thoughts explore.

——-

Thinking, wears one out, unsated, 

Answers true or some folklore.

Scientific explanation, something more?

Faith and the heart have their say made.

——–

Contemplate and speculate 

——–

What is wrong and what is done right?

Consumed by such thoughts of inner voice.

The problem: always, forever, having choice

Sometimes the wish to never think fights.

——-

Float away, grace whirlpool, without sight.

Easier to be blind than make your choice.

What is wrong and what is done right?

Consumed by such thoughts of inner voice.

——-

Is there strength in your heart, might? 

Or do you follow whoever’s voice? 

Let others think for you, make choices.

Choosing right, requires foresight.

——–

What is wrong and what is done right? 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

———

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Earth – Etheree- “Caretakers Beware”


img_1070-3

And now for our (optional) prompt. Today’s prompt comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who also suggested our prompt for Day Seven. Today, Gloria challenges us all to write a poem in honor of Earth Day. This could be about your own backyard, a national park, or anything from a maple tree to a humpback whale. Happy writing!

For more information please see NaPoWriMo. The poem form is Etherees, repeated, and turned upside down, and written as they are.


Mother Earth
http://www.fitfitmagazine.nl

Calling her Mother, created in beginning,

Adoration is hers, our provider,

Gods hands formed, but yet she falters,

He said be her caregiver,

Taking more then we’re meant,

Using her until she —

Is broken, torn,

We gouged,

For fuel,

Earth.

—-

Child,

of her,

Beginnings,

Forgetting our place,

Nurture her as she,

Nurtures her caretakers,

Ignorance destroys beauty,

Creator so lovingly beheld and,

Let us name earth’s creatures — disappearing.

Don’t forget, protect earth, greed consumes her.


Through thousands, perhaps, millions of years past,

She’s shifted and shook, born massive waves.

Mother’s rage, brings disastrous tears,

Volcanoes spewing lava,

Mountains losing their face,

Forests, fires, and ash.

Tornado wound,

Earth torn

Lost.

Our,

fault true,

Had we not,

Eaten forbidden,

Earth would be perfect,

Sin infects entire world,

Blame ourselves for her eruptions,

Our Forefathers, corrupted nature complete.

Earth’s damage repair, or she self-destructs.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.