100 Word Wednesday: Poem —FreeVerse —“Childhood Days Astray” #100WordWednesday #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday.


Credit: Bikurgurl


Tears of glass splinter, threats exchanged

Paper walls structured, pretend accords signed,

I’m guilty, but I’m not alone —

I’ve learned to apologize when the stubborn refuse.

When their words of ire as fire singe,

Blacken each day with poison deranged.

Refusing to talk, barricaded in your fortress of white noise;

Pushing alliance ‘neath plush 1960 tree-green piles.

Values and assumptions, lumps and bumps,

Consider other perspectives, act beyond perceptions; no more spats without, “I’m sorry for every hurt.”

But we’ll pretend, and if I speak it, the truth doesn’t count.

Children never learn, it’s the adage that chokes you.

It’s never right to not forgive; it’s a flaw in us.

Your grudges are deep, and your reflections skewed,

Forgetting your words, a problem in a string of failures, things I can’t do.

So, you’ll impose and push, no comprehension of what’s suffered —

Boarders not to cross.

What can I do? It’s what you’ve instigated;

So, I kept myself hidden, avoided your target.

And still, we don’t deal in forgiveness, you never admit fault;

I hate you for it, because sorry heals a plenitude of wounds.

But for you it’s just a word, a paltry thing you won’t offer.

You crowd and yell, murmuring old woes, not peering past crumbs and specs;

The film catches, tulips budding now sputter,

The screen pauses, flickers and they fade.

Defective film clicks, cracked as hearts malnourished.

Every family unhappy, in a vicious cycle reacting to our childhood days.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Advertisements

#NaPoWriMo Day 29/Saturday Mix: Poem- Quadrille – “Apprehensions: Night Tears Through” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix


For NaPoWriMo Day 29 the prompt is: “to write a poem based on the Plath Poetry Project’s calendar. Simply pick a poem from the calendar, and then write a poem that responds or engages with your chosen Plath poem in some way.” I’m combining with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie‘s Saturday Mix Prompt of Opposing Forces and two sets of words suburb and city centre and repair and damage.


Credit: Maximo Valcarce via Unsplash


Plath Poetry Calendar: APPREHENSIONS

“There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself—

Infinite, green, utterly untouchable.

Angels swim in it, and the stars, in indifference also.

They are my medium.

The sun dissolves on this wall, bleeding its lights.”


No walls to repair, or damage,

Creation’s infinite, sublime.

You tug at my heart —

Buds bursting,

Craving unknowns.

Amidst starlit skys.

Angels swimming,

Chiding indifference —

Knowing white walls,

Can’t entrap.

Not suburbsof children,

Or urbanspeakeasies,

Sparking, neglecting —

The sun’s dissolved,

Bleeding into pitch —

Light tears through.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Day 10 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse -“The Swan” #amwriting #poetry #AtoZchallenge #NaPoWriMo


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to “write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you. It doesn’t need to focus so much on what a person looks (or looked) like, as what they are or were.” The corresponding GoodRead’s Author’s Quote for the A to Z Challenge, begins with the letter I. Thanks to NEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie who provided the wonderfully creepy photograph.


Credit: saccstry.deviantart.com
———

If I’d been born a ghoul, I think I would’ve killed people. I just happened to be born a human. That’s the only reason why I’m allowed to live a moral life.” ― Sui Ishida

———

I knew her as a little girl,

Though others thought her odd.

She had that “something” about her,

People either loved or abhorred.

At first, I thought, she was enormously strange,

But her quirks endeared me to her.

She protected me from those cruel girls,

One smile from her, they stumbled away on their heels.

She had shocking violet hair on one side,

She was never quite a blond. 

Always experimenting with new looks,

Trying to glean from her appearance,

Who she was inside herself.

Her eyes a brilliant cornflower blue glimmered,

When some person made her enraged.

Her friends all knew some stupid student,

Would soon regret their actions;

She only had to smile.

And some bullies face turned violet, rouge, or primrose.

My friend was odd but lively,

Never afraid to do anything. 

Dragging me along, to be a part of her drama.

Of her wicked practical jokes,

Others whispered she was a bit ‘Tim Burton,’

Calling her the ‘corpse bride.’

But she would always smile,

In a way that scared many,

Who never knew the truth about her —

She was passionate, kind, and loyal.

If you could get past her walls, her insecurities,

She was most lovely and grew to be a beauty.

Her hair still half-purple — it was her thing.

How we knew her for her. 

Her terrifying smile gleamed, 

She could now afford braces,

For teeth that had scared everyone.

And when the braces disappeared,

Her teeth stood in straight white rows.

Her grim frown had turned forever upside down,

She was no longer that weird girl.

Though there was still ‘something’ about her;

Strange became a talent, something sought after,

When she transformed into a swan.

She became a cut diamond, no longer rough, she was —

Perfectly odd. 

——–



———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Friday Fictioneer: The Winter the Snow Never Stopped #amwriting #flashfiction #snow


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.

——

Credit: Sarah Potter

——-

The snow began yesterday and hadn’t stopped. By 5:00 pm it was night and the snow continued. Sara peered outside and could see the fat flakes steadily falling. They accumulated into two-foot piles and the city was forced to run the snow plows to clear the roads. 

It snowed for six months starting in December without stopping but remained eerily calm outside and around -12 degrees Celsius. It was difficult for Sara to even buy groceries. The walls of thick snow made her claustrophobic. 

 At the end of May, Sara crept outside and heard the first trickle of the water. The snow had begun to melt. Now, the river was rising and flooding was a concern. 

There was no winning with Mother Nature. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Poem – Day 17 – Italian Sonnet – ” Wish I Was Brave” #amwriting #poetry #music


Today’s November Notes Prompt is “Brave Enough” by Lindsay Stirling and Christina Perri.

——-

“Brave Enough” – Lindsay Stirling and Christina Perri 

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

——

Brave enough to love you, it’s a wish, 

Instead I ran away, heart kept safe;

I should’ve had courage, but wasted —

Little moments, your precious kiss.

The walls in me, fell down wistfully, 

I didn’t know what you were doing, take —

My words as truth, it’s hard to make —

A coward, brave enough to love, wish —

—-

I had brave within me; us two would —

Hurt less; it would blunt pain acute, 

Could be brave, it takes two not mute.

I wish I was, I wish I’d been less, could —

Love you completely, rife with truth, 

Now, I know well to do, as I should. 

—–

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Day 5- Poem – La’ Tuine – “Redeem Your Girl” #novembernotes #poetry #amwriting 


Today’s prompt song “Criminal” by Fiona Apple.

——-

“Criminal” – Fiona Apple

——

http://www.pinterest.com

——

Bad girls get things done, get what they want. 

Girls with stone hearts, don’t hear mean taunts, 

They’re invincible, wild; know how to flaunt. 

You won’t get past their walls, their dauntless. 

——

A little crack formed, stone heart releasing, 

Her emotions unceasing —

Guilt claws inside of her, has no peace. 

Demons of her past, screaming though deceased. 

——

Raw heart brought forth, your her only love; 

Needs to be redeemed –a sinner smudged

Thoughtless before; she needs her beloved. 

Your criminal, she needs kid gloves. 

—–

Tell her what to do and how to act now, 

Not to be a defiant girl, too proud. 

Forgive her drunken haze –parties loud, 

Redeem your Criminal right now. 

Redeem your Criminal right now. 

——

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Cascading Etherees –  “Him Narrating Defeat of The Pillow Wall.” #wordhighjuly #amwriting #poetry #siping



——-

http://www.wifflegif.com

——-

Here siping beside you on our comfy, 

Stalwart bed; the pillows stacked so high.

“Why so many pillows? Explain what,

You need them all for because–

Babe, you don’t touch me and I, 

Miss you and your bright, 

Smile; as we delight, 

In us both, 

Loving, 

Well.”

—–

“But, 

Now you, 

Build a pile, 

A pillow fort.

Are bed is divided, 

We can’t even see each —

Other; and it feels as if, 

We’re children playing games you  —

And I; forts being a fun thing in my past, 

Yet with you, there’s no fun only, silence.”

——-

“I tried breaking down your wall once you woke, 

I said, ‘”I’ve had enough,”‘pillows flew, 

Throwing them on our bedroom floor, 

I brought you so close to me, 

Told you,’ “I missed you,

Please, let’s not fight you’re, 

right. I’ll spend more, 

Time with you, 

From now, 

On.”‘

—-

“You, 

Gazed, 

At me in, 

Shock, smiling a —

Bit sleepily, 

Saying, ‘”My dream has come, 

True; but I need us to always, 

Be a priority in our —

Life, together;”‘and I smiled with hope, 

Held you, whispering:”Baby, me too.”‘ 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Rondel – “Couldn’t See the Writing.”


Thanks to The Daily Post for the word prompt handwriting.

—–

 

http://www.youtube.com

——-

You couldn’t see the writing,

Handwritten on the stoney wall.

It was obvious to us all.

You didn’t think it was inciting.

—–

Ignoring the truth, kept fighting.

The handwriting marks your fall.

You couldn’t see the writing,

Handwritten on the stoney walls.

—–

No chewing the hand, biting —

The hand that feeds you at your call.

Stop being stupid, no more walls.

Look cursive hand it enlightens.

You couldn’t see the writing. .  .

——

In the past I wrote an article on the most recent James Bond film Spectre and it’s theme song “The Writing’s on the Wall” by Sam Smith. I went into the background of the saying. You might find this piece interesting. Please visit the blog post here: Writings on the Wall.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “Paper Bag Princess.”


  
Here’s for the meanings and the seemings,

The words we’ve been breathing, though they are concealing,

We’re never hidden behind steal, or a solid wall of bricks.

And we’re shamed, peeking out of ‘the cupboard,’ hiding like the Indian did from a childhood book.

 We move through our thoughts, the glances of others who don’t understand —

What it means to remain hidden.

——

They’re all out there with their sunglasses and dreamy looks,

 In a world finding love, come together — some love separates. 

And I haven’t spent the days before Valentine’s Day dreaming,

 I don’t need a man to give me flowers or chocolates. 

I don’t need more demands and inferences of combinations dialled,

Short and electric, but fizzles and drizzles, as the rain pours outside. 

Dividing our time between sleeping and daylight,

And the sun keeps on rising; 

I keep on imprivising all the things I’m construing,

In a mind filled with despising a guy who I left.

Who made me know what it hurts like to feel neglect,

After he’s gone on, but still calling — I wish he would stop.

 That I could forget all about these “tygers” and their wants. 

I’m not happy nor comfortable, unless they get their cut, pieces of my being;

They’re dividing me among each other, taking the best cuts and leaving the scraps.

—–

And outside is a puppy and I want to hold her, because she doesn’t need much —

Only to eat, walk, cuddle, play, and go wee.

She needs her nails clipped and her teeth brushed sometimes. 

I’m a woman begging everyday of her life for things I’m uninspired to give,

If you won’t even attempt to do better, make it as important as a ‘business deal.’

 I’m not above you or below you you dirty-thirty-something.

 I’m just looking for meaning among people who are loyal.

I’m caught in my dreams, betwixt the real and the “real” in this Wonderland. 

And if we look through the ‘looking glass’ we only see people in poverty,

Who are thinking only of eating and surviving. 

Loving doesn’t matter much when you are looking for fresh water, 

When you’re sickly and dying — or does it matter most?

——

But here, won’t you hear me —

In our first- world of problems — 

I’m trying! I’m trying — but it’s never enough.

You dragons eat your steaks and leave me with nothing but my dry bones. 

You ravish a ‘paper-bag princess’ and leave her without a stitch;

Clothes that cover her heart.

And you suck her organs dry of blood and all matter,

You leave a her exposed for the vultures to grasp at,

 You break open a bottle of liquor and the whole room explodes, 

Covered in champagne and the bubbles make you choke.

Sifting through closets, cover up my exposed heart,

I don’t want to reveal myself but in the “real” world I must.

 Because if your broken your fixable and can be put back together,

 A mirror that’s shattered and eternally busted.

——

And these words may make little sense but that’s what you call — prose poetry,

Of a girl, who’s  a woman, who’s a child, who’s lured by the promises,

Of a blackness so bleak no one can see in front of their face,

Because in the darkest depths, the light shines brightest.

Arise and save yourself, 

Think of the words to describe your freedom desired —

Taylor Swift wrote it well: ” It’s too late for you and your white horse to catch me now.”

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.