#NaPoWriMo Day 5/ Three Line Tales: Poem – Haikus – “Garden Faeries Direct”#amwriting #poetry #3LineTales


For Day 5 NaPoWriMo, the Prompt is: “to write a poem beginning with a photo, and find a poem in a language you don’t know (here’s a good place to look!) Ignore any accompanying English and translate the poem into English, with the idea that the poem is “about” your photograph. Also, thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.


Credit: Vek Labs via Unsplash


“The Hand Writes on the Mind: An Arrow ” By Manuel Gusmão

*****

a mão escreve na mente: a flecha

que viaja no papel a rosa dos ventos:

a clave do sol; la clef des jardins;

a chave como um comboio de criança

passando num pátio com palmeira, entre

o crepúsculo branco e a manhã vermelha;

a cidade crescera como os arcos das ondas

ao encontro das aéreas construções das nuvens;

a meio caminho triângulos acesos ondeavam

e a terra recordava-se murmurante

das raízes das árvores eléctricas

em cujos ramos brilhavam os peixes

profundos.

Nem com setas habitarias tal pátria

e por isso as pões na pintura que delira

e desenhas uma fairy queen: um canto

árabe uma princesa árabe escrita em sarapilheira

e aureolada pelo napalm; a floresta em construção

multiplica a lua cheia pelas paliçadas lacustres;

os barcos navegam uma noite branca

que se ergue como um monte iluminado

por monstruosas flores irregulares

em cruz e em espiral à tua espera


Arrow tattooed, handwritten —

Indelible; fay unseen, these —

Wide-eyed pixies.

*****

Sun crests, arises while we —

Recline in the garden,

Crystal fleurs flourish. *****

Vermilion twilight’s spell cast,

Faeries amidst foliage dance,

Directions unknown.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#November Notes Day 15/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Quadrille – “Headlights” #100WordWednesday #poetry #dVerse


For November Notes Day 15 the prompt song is “Headlights” by Dave Barnes. I’m combining the prompt with Bikurgurl’s Week 48 #100WordWednesday Photo Prompt. Also combining with Lillian from #dVerse Poet’s Pub Quadrille Prompt including the word visit in some form.

——-

Credit: Trevor Cole via Unsplash

——

“Headlights” by Dave Barnes

——-

White orb in the sky,

I’m alive,

As it rises between,

Cascading pines.

Oaks, sheltering our time.

Taffy leaves —

Autumn’s promise.

Each moment,

You fill my aching thoughts.

As we waited,

Excitement unknown.

Magnolia kisses,

Doors swinging wide.

I still remember,

Headlights flashing;

Love growing,

Each visit;

Not knowing,

Forevers context.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Tale Weavers: Poem – Wrapped Refrain – “On Resolutions” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerieor hosting last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt on a story of keeping/making resolutions in the New Year.

Credit: Abstract Art – http://www.pinterest.com

—-
It’s difficult, keeping going in —

The face of rejection given. 

I’ve learnt be fortified; than —

My cave won’t fall in strengthened

I’ve succeeded at some tries, failed at many others,found, 

Resolution; one must, keep pushing all boundaries.  

—–

So, what do we resolve, anything new

We continually have goals in view. 

Hoping we’ll achieve something great. 

Or make it through each day, not wait —

Wondering if the grass is greener, if inspiration

Can take flight, provide meaning, when we require.

—–

Do we lose weight, eat less sugar? 

Walk more, live our lives with vigor? 

Do we spend time with loved ones, 

Knowing we’re here, short while for some. 

Do we travel somewhere far away or give home —

To pets from the shelter? Strangers who are unknown
—–

We can resolve, try much harder, 

Do better, be specific, guard —

Ourselves, take baby steps to —

Goals we want achieved through, 

A change in habit, will it happen or will we —

As every year, change only when life forces free —

—–

What we truly need to change and be, 

Beyond ourselves, have self-belief, 

We will actually take a step, glean —

Some knowledge from the year, lean

Far from our own circles to celestial dreamscapes

It’s difficult to be grounded; worse to not create

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Laurenelle – “Freeing the She-Wolf” #amwriting #poetry #fiction


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

Credit: Natalie Deprina

—–

I writhe, I wreathe for I’m neatly twisted, 

You’ll never unravel me, my heart unknown. 

You hold the tether on my talons tight fisted

I’m tenacious, a survivor bold, 

You can tie me in knots, try to keep me near;

I’ll escape, live without your blackness owned. 

I don’t quit; you shouldn’t trap me for fear, 

I’ll catch you first, she-wolf who swiftly bites. 

Your callous ropes hurt, but I’ll disappear

Love doesn’t choke, it’s not uninviting

Love is a freedom, not a smoke screen

But you’re in my den, I’m growling my spite

My name isn’t “Sweetheart,” don’t demean me;

Power struggle invoked, within your ropes —

I’ve held dear, but know I’m incharge here. 

Droplets of blood, I swear I won’t be broke

Such a darkness in you raptured by my light. 

Goodness will win; she-wolves don’t quit, they’ve hope. 

My love, no more traps, let my heart be free

Your wolf, let her breathe, she’ll return to thee

I writhe, I wreathe, for I’m neatly twisted. 

You hold the tether on my talons, tight fisted. 

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “A Congested Mind” #poetry #amwriting 


http://www.pinterest.com

——–

They call it the unknown

The future lying before you. 

No matter if you’re psychic, 

No one knows what happens. 

There are varied scenarios,

Ways it could play out, 

But truly we don’t know the future

It’s a mystery creeping forward, 

And it pulls us along on our knees.

Whether we go willingly, 

Or go kicking and screaming;

Time marches in to the beat,

Of father time’s own drum. 

****

I don’t know what’s coming, 

I know worrying won’t help. 

I think sometimes I try to give advice, 

Reassuring myself in kind. 

There are bright possibilities, 

Hoping people become, 

More kind than they are mean to each other. 

Pray people look-out for each other, 

But sometimes I think society is self-centred. 

I admit to such fault and others too,

But I’m still fearful;

When I think of a year or two ahead, 

I’m afraid what if it’s not the right plan? 

Experience deftly taught me,

Plans are dim outlines of reality. 

Mostly, life goes where it goes

And God only knows where or why. 

Leading us through dark valleys, 

Into trenches with piercing bullets flying. 

Into classrooms with screaming kids, 

A gunmen on the loose. 

He leads us through to people, 

Whose power makes one nervous. 

How even democracy isn’t safe —

A tyrant could rule all. 

Maybe the world will surprise me, 

But I fear for the little person. 

*****

My own personal fears weigh heavy, 

Though others bear pains greater. 

Of lawyers and cases, 

Of corruption and crime. 

Those crimes we deem terrible;

Those crimes brushed under the rug. 

Greed and all those other sins,

Abhorred but freely ignored. 

Though I can never say what’s worse —

My own flaws or imperfections

Or those I’m faced with. 

Stress shows through cracks, 

Egg yokes running. 

No one likes raw eggs except in cookie dough

The future is overwhelming. 

But at least they’ll still be cookie dough, 

And I don’t know why —

I’m particular and observant

Why I know it’s better to be alone

Than be truly alone with another. 

Why I wait for that spark

Why I wait for the morning dawn. 

A smile in his eyes which is genuine

Wherever he is. 

But maybe happiness is a puppy

Paws following me on the hardwood, 

Barks at random sounds. 

The glory of a puppy skidding down —

The off leash trail and wheeling;

Turning around to jump on me, 

To pick her up when she’s tired. 

*****

My bones are stiff and ridged

My dreams fall to despair

So many books and writers, 

And not anyone can compare

How to rise above the masses, 

Or fill your own niche contented. 

But perhaps one could be something

Success in small moments. 
Afraid and weighted

Need to cry, tears unshed, 

Because disease is cruel. 
Even if Heaven is the end of the tunnel,

So many words are left unsaid

The timing of it all, does it work? 

I feel alienated

Though I try hard to keep the connection

It’s all in your planning Lord;

So must I say, your will be done.

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Quotes To Consider this Week


1. “What we remember is probably fiction anyways.” – Beryl Bainbridge

2. “It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.” – Jonathen Safran Foer

3. ” Sure you have a couple of scars, and a couple of bad memories, but then again, all great heros do.”- Ltn

4. ” Never be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger then whatever tried to hurt you.” – Unknown

5. “Everyone has a chapter, they don’t read outloud.” – WordPorn

6. “Don’t judge someone just because they sin differently then you.” – Unknown

7. ” Some doors are meant to be closed, and when you try to re-open them, you remember why they were closed in the first place.” – Life Quotes

8. “I’m a writer. If I’m staring at you, I’m not being rude. I’m trying to decide if you need to go into a book. If you’re a snot, I maybe deciding on how to kill you.” – Someecards

9. ” What Christian’s call answered prayer, skeptics call coincidence. Whatever it’s called, the more Christian’s pray, the more it happens.” – Ranal Currie

10. ” The only things you can take with you when you leave this world, are the things you’ve packed inside your heart.” – Susan Gale

—–

Poem: Word Wrestling 


Pages of books not written; I’m smitten with writing and making connections. Between the exertions of the mind and the final piece laid out before me; a master piece a sculptural word image.

Many pages have been torn out so worn with notes and ink they had to be reborn upon the laptop screen, reformed and moved around until an agitation would cease to exist inside the writer’s mind.

Placing words are like placing memories. A smell of leather and glue can you bring you back to those first books, the classics, made in ancient form; but now the books aren’t even paperback or on thick paper; now the books are read from phones and tablets. It’s a new form of perception for words.

Words have no meaning until you make them a sentence, until you move them around with more of their kind and place them between periods, commas, semi-colons, question marks, and other punctuation. But in saying that, arrange them properly or abandon all hope.

Words don’t have meaning until you say what you mean using examples and making the sound of the words pleasing; perhaps, you’ll alliterate or personify. Or maybe you’ll say exactly what you meant sparsely and short.

These words are all tools to build the illustrious novel, the poetry book, the poster, the newsletter, or the magazine. You can use them with images snapped by a camera, but you can make them an image. Smash together words like ants coming from a hole in the wall.

You can poison with words the way you kill ants – Borax and Icing sugar – a deadly sweet treat like words that linger for their artifice. Words that are artificial, extending their life just to be, we don’t need them here.

We could spend hours debating word usage, sentences, and clauses. But who cares really? I just wanted you to comprehend the connection of words to final draft, to your fait accompli. I wanted you to dream while you type away that words can actually mean a great deal when they are used properly.

They can snake into your mind, a superhuman surprise and in a rush you’ll hurry to write down your word picture. You’ll create another part, a piece of the pie, and for moments you’ll dream sipping on endings. And eventually it will fit, click and create the last words ever written on the subject by your author, unknown. But you can call her Jane Doe.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.