Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “A Nightmare of Ink” #amwriting #poetry #nightmares


Thank you to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the his week’s Photo Prompt chalkenge.

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Credit: Reylia.deviantart.com

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She holds the flowers teaming with a life force all their own, 

Knowing the ombré blue blossoms will escape; 

Flutter into the world carried on the wind, 

Pettles and fluffy white seeds blown across the land. 

Messengers of hope and artistry, a beauty undefinable. 

Her hands tightly grasp the stems, no thorns to prick errant fingers. 

She can’t let go, however, she she tries, 

Hands entrapped on rough stems holding too hard. 

So rigid are her hands, blood comes forth, 

The pressure of her grip too intense;

With great thought, he watches her, observes her reactions, 

She doesn’t understand why he’s hurting her; she needs help. 
She’s dressed in her navy dress and in life he loves it, 

In her dream, he picks at the fabric of her sleeve in disgust. 

Mumbling to himself, then struck with a thought, 

He’s found a thin fluted vase in blue to match her flowers. 

She doesn’t conprehend the symbolism or the reason, 

When ink he pours onto her flowers from the vase. 

He stains her hands until they appear black, 

The flowers are ruined and slicked with ink like oil. 

The streaming ink is everywhere, 

Her beloved smiles at her, he chucks her chin and winks, 

Takes the flowers and places them in the vase. 

The ink is all over her hands and arms;

Hers and his, and he’s laughing. 

Saying how difficult ink is to remove from one’s skin, 

So he cradles her face and he kisses her long, 

But then she awakes in her dream, 

To permenant ink stains all over her face and hands.

He smirks at her, walks away no care for the ink staining him. 

The moon gleams in the sky and it rains — buckets of tar black ink, 

Caressing her body, covering as sludge, dripping and spilling. 

What value is ink if she has no pen’s cartridge to put it in? 

She’s not able to use it to write. 

The world around is flooded by this precious commodity, 

And when she finally awakes for real, all is forgotten. 

Yet, the hands she holds up to the sunlight, 

Are stained dark black;

She’s tattood in the memory of a dream, 

Nightmares and reality never giving way to truth. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

Saturday Mix: Fiction – Riding The Wave #amwriting #fiction #saturdaymix 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday’s Mix 100 Word Challenge. 

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Credit: GSK 17

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We’re balancing on the train tracks, walking them carefully with our arms held out like acrobats. The tracks start to rattle, at first minutely, but gradually the rattle increases as we hear the train nearing. 

Remaining as long as we can, we walk and balance, challenging ourselves and testing the fates. When the train whistles loudly, we step off. The tracks are clanking and clambering, as if the bolts holding them down might come free. 

The beast approaches and with it comes the wind from the train’s speed and the smoke from the coal fed engine. We stand as close as we can, without it hitting us. 

It’s an electric and deadly thrill when the train rushes past and we’re not even grazed. We don’t fall back, we ride the wave between life and death as it passes. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Without A Sound” #amwriting #poetry #love


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

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Credit: Rich Howman

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Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

Swing her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift;

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All to happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Perserved in time the clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

Years slide forward, what can you do but, 

Move forward too, memories cause a rut. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found, 

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—-

Swept her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift. 

Wiggling and giggling in your —

Arms; begging to have legs on ground restored

She thought she was too heavy for your back, 

You just laughed and kept her close, said “Relax.” 

You were walking barefoot on the cool —

Wet ground, the grass made you slip, such glad fools. 

Drop of joy harnessed in a crystal glass

Kept to hold, make the precious moments last. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found,

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound.

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All too happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Lovers as close as lovers can be, rolling —

On the blanket, on grass, after strolling.

Gleam in her eyes promising heaven, 

Twist of her smile taking you to Never —

-land of pirates, lost boys, and she, Wendy, 

Picking up a sword, fighting for her when —

Pirates attacked; shoeless running in real

Life; time ceasing again, treasures for feels. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

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Perserved in time, clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

The truth is hard to swallow, to remember

Years pass, euphoria is dismembered

Harsh realities, sickness, health; sickness wins, 

She flew away my sparrow with the wind.

Such disease sucks the life from a body, 

Hope, a religious dream from pain prodded. 

A new eternity to love, swing round with —

Dirty bare feet and love despite death’s grip. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

November Notes: Poem – Day 22 – Ninefold – “Free Fallin’ Long Gone” #amwriting #poetry #novembernotes #writing 


Today’s song prompt is “Free Fallin’ ” sung by John Meyer. I adore the original classic by Tommy Petty so that’s the video I’m going to post! 

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“Free Fallin'” – Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers 

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Good girls, so gorgeous don’t know beware; 

Long brunette locks, emerald eyes flutter.

Curves and hips swaying, breasts thrust up high. 

He feels the wind through his hair, smells the pine, 

Their bitter perfumes oversprayed gone. 

Road trip –he’ll never return to her. 

Good girls crush his spirit, expecting —
He’ll remain; he’s long gone, free fallin’

Never hold him down, his soul must soar. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 


Photo Challange: Poem – Licentia – “Sometimes My Love” #amwriting #poetry 


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

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fineart-photos.tumblr.com

 

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The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown,

Over the clothes line, pinning; they’ll smell like sunshine,

Dried by cool wind tonight, they’ll sway on clothes line.

I’m but a shadow, I pass my sheets humming,

A lonely tune, for my life’s solitude humbling.

I’m only a women, my husband says I’m less,

Bruises left, hands tremble, he gives no respect.

In this backwards world, it’s difficult to say,

How we were in love, how war made him this way.

We used to lie in the sun,  beneath us grain, barley.

Now he says, “Stay inside;” I know him now hardly.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro, 

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown. 
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There once was a dance, that took place in time

Soldiers came, handsome in crisp uniform’s shine.

Caught girls’ eyes; they wore rouge, lipstick, their best gowns.

Swing music played, we danced, eyes caught mine, brown.

Laughter in chocolate gaze, “Get her a drink, eh?”

Night passed slowly, dipping me, we kissed and swayed.

We meant up again, and again, dreaming life,

One we shared; us blossomed –there’s always a price.

We both suffered strongly, fools were we of war,

Injured men, maimed men, limbs lost, minds lost, sore.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown.

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War would end, countless unknown dead; you crumbled

So lost; letters sent, none returned, war humbles

You couldn’t handle what you’d seen and did, came home,

Ran to you, you held me close, cried so much, roamed –

Town, as other’s alive, –ghosts of war haunting,

We bought the farm, your vengeance rose, me you taunt.

By your past demons, by your bruising punch and yet,

They’re times you are you, before war changed you, set —

Course for man, so angry at life, he curses well —

His wife; sometimes he’s my love, other’s my hell.

The winds warm and soft, prairie fields sway to and fro,

Such chores a woman has, hangs sopping sheets thrown.

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“The Licentia Rhyme Form, a poetic form created by Laura Lamarca, consists of at least three – 12-line stanzas with 11 syllables per line. Of course, the poem can be elongated adding on to the following rhyme scheme: aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA. The Licentia Rhyme Form is named after Laura Lamarca’s signature, “La” and “Licentia” is Latin for “Freedom”.” – Shadow Poetry

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I’m not sure if this is completely right for the form. I think lines ‘bb’ for instance are supposed to be exactly repeated in lines ‘BB,’ not just rhyme with them. The same for lines ‘cc’ and ‘CC’ etc… But I like the poem like this right now!

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Diamanté – ” Fire, Phoenix, Light, and Darkness” #poetry #amwriting #music 


“Just Like Fire” – P!nk

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Fire,
Scorching, Singeing.

Destroying, Cleansing, Burning all. 

Sparks inside me, embers glowing.

Remenants of yesterday dying.

Acrid smell, Burnt scent, Dusty death.

Blowing winds, Becoming but —

Ashes.

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Fire,

Flaming, Fluid heat, 

Interrupting life, Avenging, Lighting pathways.

Devastating the place called home.

Lighting the way back to safety, when enclosed.

Luminous candle, Glowing street lamp, Gleaming stars.

Beaming, Brighten’s with —

Light.

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Ashes,

Grey silt, Smokey remains.

Leftovers, Burnt black-wood, Coughing fits.

From the ashes, rises the grand Phoenix.

Still the Phoenix becomes the fire.

Spreading fast, Blackening souls, Killing life.

Warmth, Hearth, 

Fire.

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Phoenix,

Reddish feathers, Flying past, 

Wings spanning, Soaring fast, Exploring the sky.

The fire brings the smoke to rise in plumes, 

The smoke also signals rebirth — to live again.

Light in Darkness, Glistening stars, Glazing flame.

Hope in , Glory of —

Light. 

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Light 

Beaming, Revealing, 

Unravelling mystery, Untwisting falsehood, Enlightening knowledge.

Shadow has no place to hide from light;

Darkness loves the corners hidden. 

Nightmares, Souls which quake, Fear Whispers, 

Gloomy, Depressing, 

Darkness.

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Dark, 

Twilight falling, Shaded sky, 

Creeps in Shadow, Blackening, Opaqueness.

Not a breath of light or air to spare in life;

Darkness in death, leads to despair without hope. 

Taking Cover, Teasing Fate, Testing Boundaries.

The End, Fini, 

Death.

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Death,

Scythe wielded, Bones rattling,

Soul gone, Decaying body, Empty shell.

The dead will rise at the end of days;

But until then, those of light stay in rays. 

Breath of freshest air,  No worries, No sorrow,

Peace, Promise Kept, 

Heaven.

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Fire,

Blazing inferno, Uncontrollable, 

Crisp hearts, Burnt hands, Wild fire’s agony.

Fire cooks our food, the first discovery of man;

But fire too, is life and rebirth; death is not the end.

Renewing life, Forest regrowing, Animals returning,

Hopeful for, Breath of —

Life. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Lunes – “Never Stopped” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction #lunes


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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The Storyteller’s Abode (Louise)

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Hidden between rocks, the ocean —

Returns a treasure. 

A time piece once given.

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A woman’s long hair blows,

Trailing in winds. 

She inspects the pocket watch —

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Before dropping it off the —

Cliff it tumbles, 

Onto rocks, clattering sounds lost —

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In the darkness of nights, 

Grip so intense.

Ocean steals the pocket watch —

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Woman stares down below peering —

Her Grandfather’s watch,

Forever lost, his presence grieved.

—–

Into cold bitter waters enclosing,

Covered in waves. 

Gone for years, taken away.

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Now a small boy picks up —

A watch and —

Smiles, his new treasure found. 

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Dangling it infront of him he —

Puts it to —

His ear; ticking, never stopped. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Maydays: Italian Sonnet – “Thrive” #Maydays



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Thank you to K.L. Caley of new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. Today’s prompt is a fortune cookie stating: “May You Live In Interesting Times.” 
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http://www.youtube.com

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My friend: May you live in interesting times.

Let the shadows at night not overtake you, 

Brightness driving out with light, what shakes you.

Listen, the wind echoes trilling the chimes, 

To breathe fresh air and thrive is not a crime.

Holding your dreams close; with great flight pursue, 

Let life shimmer within, remember: choose! 

Don’t let life cage; chase ethereal sublime.

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Out with sadness; out with cruel fate’s lies, 

There’s a future brash, hollering –go find. 

Feel grass beneath your cheek seek; realize —

Nature’s gorgeous beauty, freedom designed.

Chase the shores; eagles on cliffs thrilling cries, 

Live, not content to merely survive — thrive.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Tritina – “Valley Beach” 


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Our (optional) prompt for Day Seven comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who challenges us all to write a tritina. The tritina is a shorter cousin to the sestina, involving three, three-line stanzas, and a final concluding line. Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA, and all three end words appear together in the final line.

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Please see NaPoWriMo for more information. Also, I am doing The Daily Prompt word prompt, using the word Tricky.

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http://www.galmeiri.blogspot.com

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Wind blowing in the valley where we always go,

Where serenity arrives with the oceanic tide,

Grass fragrant, rustles in the valley we reside,

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Running through grass, escape life to ocean reside,

Valley’s hush, mystical, tricky path where we go,

On the beach, sand softens feet, running through the tide,

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Laying towels, white sand, resting here, hear the tide,

Walking home, grass flicks our calves, back home we reside.

In tomorrow’s heat, to the valley we’ll go.

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Tricky tides pull, in the valley we reside — go.

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Hi, just wanted to leave a little note to those whose posts I usually comment on, and those bloggers who follow me. I’m taking a break from blogging this week, most everything but completing the posts I need to. I might comment on the odd post, but for most posts I will get to on the weekend or next week 🙂 Thanks for understanding! 

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Echoes of My Neighbourhood: Around the House


Thank you to Jacqueline of A Cooking Pot and Twisted Tales for hosting the Echoes of My Neighbourhood Prompt.

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Today, it’s pictures outside, around my house. Spring hasn’t come about, it’s too early still. And the snow hasn’t stayed (yet). So nature appeares bare. But it’s sunny and not too cold. A cool wind blows, but only a light jacket needed in March is amazing. I’m looking forward to when spring comes at last. My Mom did tell me the tulips were starting to come up at her work. Cheers all! Happy St. Patrick’s Day. Enjoy your Guinness and your “green beer.” Seems to me we need more ‘green’ this time of year! 

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Our Kitchen Window. We have a shelf where we put most of our plants. We always joke with my Mom that. she has a ‘black thumb’ but, her orchids atleast, have bloomed several times.
 
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Part of the Back Yard. The little arch is beautiful when green leaves cover it from vines in the summer months.
 
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When we moved into this house, my Dad and one brother, did a great deal of work putting in brick/stone flowerbeds and a patio. Again, they. are much nicer when flowers bloom and plants are green.

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A Birch tree in the upper yard. It drops so many leaves in fall.
 
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Front of our Bungalow. Dad painted the siding a grey-green when we moved in to modenize it. The trees infront of our house have grown awful big!
 
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Another part of the front yard, looking off down the sidewalk.
 
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Speaking of sidewalks, one of my favourite poems is by a poet named Shell Silverstein. My elementary school teachers, used to read us his poetry. My favourite poem by Shell Silverstein is called “Where the Sidewalk Ends.”

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Where the Sidewalk Ends – Shell Silverstein

There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins,

And there the grass grows soft and white,

And there the sun burns crimson bright,

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

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Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

And the dark street winds and bends.

Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow

We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And watch where the chalk-white arrows go

To the place where the sidewalk ends.

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Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,

And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,

For the children, they mark, and the children, they know

The place where the sidewalk ends.

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(Poem provided by Lady Lee Manila).

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©Mandibelle16.All Rights Reserved.