Poem: Free Verse – “Words After Turning Thirty-One” #amwriting #poetry 


http://www.pinterest.com

——–

What do we become as women at thirty-one?

Are we put out to pasture? 
Or are we doing the kicking to the curb? 

Are we like the woman of the 1960’s? 

Childless, no husband, so no value? 

Are we no longer desired? 

Are we spinsters, old-maids, bachelorettes for life? 

Or are do we fit my Uncles words:

“The most beautiful women are in their thirties.” 

Is it just the beginning, or is it the end? 

A last stretch of youth?

Or maybe, a reach for adulthood? 

Where some intelligence kicks in, 

And you’re tired of the lies, 

Meaningful nights; mornings depressed. 

So, you’ll wait for the right kind of guy, 

With the right kind of flaws;

Or maybe you live your own charmed life? 

Happy to be single, confident, relaxed.

Is it coming out of bubble gum and pink clouds? 

Finally not a girl;

But a woman who can impact change? 

Is it refinement and elegance? 

A striving for grace and eloquence? 

Is it realizing there is no Prince Charming? 

No white horse or Disney fairytale? 

Building your own life,

Do you forge it the best you can? 

Is it becoming aware even greater, 

Your teachers in childhood are growing older;

Your most lives won’t be around forever, 

So, you gather their wisdom while you can;

Spend time with them now.

Time steals loved ones; be they young or old.

Is thirty-one when you realize,

You are not impervious to dying at anytime in life? 

Severe fatigue, cancer, lupus, Thyroid troubles, 

Depression, anxiety, car accidents, the flu, MS;

Disease in some form, affects us all, 

Bodies which don’t bounce back as easily;

Requiring movement to maintain fitness,
And junk food, oh you’ll pay for it later! 

Sharing a bottle of vodka, tequila, or wine;

Drinking almost all of it, 

Can this be done anymore, and survived? 

Two glasses of wine or two beers, 

Every once in a while seems alright, 

Or face the two-day hangover regrettfully.

The biggest thing about being thirty-one, 

I’ll never get back years in my twenties, 

Lost in fatigue and mental illness, affects of meds;

They’re fond memories of genuine friends;

Futures, I see possibilities of having.

But someone wise once wrote, at the ages if 15 to 32:

Don’t worry about marriage, kids, or being grown-up;

Just enjoy and learn, explore the world. 

The wanderlust calls to me endlessly, 

A mysterious adventure waiting;

Such planning, such difficulties, such hardship; 

For a fantastic trip; I could barely walk all day, 

Or afford it; but wouldn’t it be worth it? 

To have thousands of foot prints,

To cover my pages, and see it’s okay – life goes how it does.

Thirty-one it’s only begun; an age of aspirations, 

Hopefully, inspirations to write more of;

As numerous as my days in all my years allotted. 

Passion and a life to live, anyway I know how.

Grace of God abounding; encircling profoundly, 

His child, he won’t let stumble long.

He guards with angels, and —

His forever promise of light in the dark; 

As wise JK Rowling wrote through Dumbledore:

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times; 

If only one will Remember, to turn on the light.” 
——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Advertisements

Poem: Cinquins (2,4,6,8,2) – ” A Place To Breathe” #wordhighjuly #amwriting



——-

http://www.galmeetsglam.com

——

There are,

Places we find, 

The world scars our being.

Sanctuary is needed, 

What’s yours? 

——

In our, 

Minds overwhelmed, 

By everything we need–

To do, but relief comes with breathing,

In, out.

——–

Perhaps, 

It’s a place with, 

Grassy knolls and sun beams bright, 

Where yoga mats lay, and you pose and,

Stretch-out.

—–

Release, 

Everything pent —

Up inside your heart box, 

From the years, shoving secrets deep, 

Relax.

—–

Tell who, 

You must and let, 

Your friend know, these hard times, 

You’re letting them all go, melting,

Away.

—–

Perhaps, 

It’s a place with, 

A lake and fishing poles, 

And a serenity found in quiet, 

Have peace.

——

Maybe, 

You read books and, 

Spend the whole day absorbed, 

Letting time pass, body revives,

Mind rests.

——-

Maybe,

You run because, 

Endorphins flow and you —

Feel alive on pavement jogging.

Freeing.

——-

Perhaps, 

You spend the day, 

With an old friend, or your spouse.

Maybe you pretend you are both young.

Dreaming.

——-

Or you, 

Could travel far, 

See art, culture breathe new —

Experiences and let wanderlust, 

Take you.

——-

Wherever, 

You go, you need

Find your kalinai, 

Serenity, deep in your soul.

Peace be.

—–

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

July Quotes: Inspiration for Summer and Beyond #quotes


Happy 4th of July my American friends. I’m sure it’s nice to have the Monday off work if you work usually. I’m also sure there are fun festivities and celebrations happening in the US today. Anyways, here’s some quotes to think about this July.

——-

1. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——–

2. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——–

3. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——–

4. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

5. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

6. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

7. 

wwww.pinterest.com

——-

8. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

9. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

10. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

11. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

12. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

13. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

14. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

15. 

http://www.pinterest.com

———

Thank you for reading. I guess some of these quotes were more poems, but as you know poems have significant inspirational affects as well as quotes. My favourites are #8, #10, and #15. How about you? 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: A L’Arora – “The Wanderer Who Yearned”


Thank you to The Daily Post for the prompt words Natural and Struggle.


wander-the-world
http://www.thechangeblog.com

A wanderer navigates far on her journey,

She traipses from stars luminous in ink darkness,

Across natural hill she can’t not climb,

In lush valleys sleeping, dreams whispering in,

Travelling far, in-between, in the world down below,

Knowing not peace; restless she artfully treads,

Breathing the life, new civilizations she learns,

Tracing the moon, it dips to to her hands; she treads.


Wanderlust a vise; no peace yet, no worry,

In the sky’s plashless flamingo pink, fire orange stark;

Tranquility masked, in the eyes of young and old; she finds —

Wisdom in their tongues so foreign, not to her akin;

Grass, scented sharp and fragrant; an afternoon’s soft pillow,

She shares not, a fear of ‘what’s out there;’ no dread,

Roaming each day, hopping off trains, nothing her concerns;

Inscrutability of the world hails; she goes wherever, not knowing dread.


In Paris, she didn’t bother climbing the Eiffel Tower leery,

Of crowds, and people overwhelming; she’s a lark,

Free spirit, sweet melodies trailing; requires space to fly, to find —

Her life abroad, journeying towards the sun as it sets in Berlin.

Abundance of pints in Germanic territory; laughter she borrows,

A smorgasbord of people, faces to greet before bed.

Memories composed  in songs of the moments; she burns —

Companionship,she’s persuaded; singed remnants in bed.


Through Italy and Greece she did not falter, clearly —

Used to travelling trails, which ever road ingenuity sparked.

Nothing, exquisite as midnight’s blackness, in her mind,

The ruins of Ancient Greece in Athens alight; interlude in Santorini.

Riches of Rome, what need has God of golden sorrows?

A few nights idle, in soft hotel bed; relaxation as she read,

Of home, the place she missed the most; yet she yearned —

Struggling within; wanting more of the world, of new places read.


Climbing the Alps; mountains so high, a drop shear;

Below the air, not but wind, as she embarked.

Her mind in the beaches of Spain white; now resigned.

Searching forever, not to discover, real truths in the wind,

Traversing, strong, full of vitality; healthy to the core.

Until her ankle, tottered over, with a sprain and scratches bled.

Relishing in the Netherlands, a peaceful place to learn.

Sleeping in, and delighted to pause; until scratches never bled.


Of Nova Scotia’s Atlantic ice cold waters clear,

She gazed on architecture as Europe’s in Quebec, and parks,

Of pristine nature, trees, and flowers; but nature’s blind,

To the tumult of thought occurring inside her; she’s on a tailspin —

To Australia’s Opera House in Canberra; heart sore–

Journeying in the Outback; most treacherous place led,

By tour guides; and journeying in Melbourne earned,

Photographs caught on Instagram; further travels led.


Down to the Dominican, all inclusive; drinking slush and beer,

Reacting as she roamed where Inca’s lived, Mexican landmarks,

Insider herself, she perceived a need to still her being, and find,

Her place in a multicultural earth; her home, she grinned —

Such knowledge absorbed; little she knew, remaining ashore.

 Determining home, in the vast open prairies she once fled,

Traversing infinitely; it was a greed which no longer in her burned.

Home in her heart; she soars, a new trail found, where she before fled.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers: Trains in the Sky


When I was a little boy I use to love trains. One Christmas my Grandpa bought me this train set that went around the whole Christmas tree and all the other presents. I was 4-years-old and a train that went around a track and whistled like a real train was the funnest gift ever. I wanted to be the engineer who drove the trains on the track when I was older.

That’s what my Grandpa did. There is this picture in his office. It’s black and white and there is this sense of wanderlust I receive when I look at this picture. My Grandpa tells me stories, how he took people all across Canada on this train.

Now I am 21-years-old and I trained to drive the metro. I love my job. Except one day I wasn’t paying attention and I hit another train. I heard the screeching, the screaming, as metal bent and people died.Train driver error. But it doesn’t matter anymore — I am driving trains in the sky.

Word Count: 176 words

Train

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting! Please join us!