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

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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 – “The Battle Infinite” 


http://www.youtube.com

———

Demons dreaming, 

Surround me as I wake;
Oh give me serenity, 
Nightmares creep and ache.

Falling from a mind overwhelmed, 

By imagination on overdrive;

Let my mind be at peace,

Let the demons finally cease.

No understanding have I, 

Why the demons we slaughter,

Are always the same sin.

I defeated you before, 

But you come back for more;

The snake, loathsome reptile,

From Eden you did break.

Losing tiny snake legs, 

To strike a woman’s heel.

How dare you come back, 

To bring me down again.

I pray you keep your distance;

You keep moving closer.

Claustrophobia, panic, 

Praying you don’t turn me to granite;

Pulling out my weapons, 

I’ll battle Medusa harder still.

You can see the braided,

 Depths of my scars;

We know each other well old foe, 

But I won’t go down pleading;

I have light in my armour, 

Not the kind which normal snakes like;

The kind which burns,

Makes snakes writhe for life.

Pain will be your only friend, 

Old foe; you fight the same.

Each and every time I return, 

I don’t know why I turned my back on you;

Those not weary do not see, 

The enemy coming up behind, 

A dagger piercing my back; my heart.

A knock to my head; concussions blind;

But I heal fast, and I heal stronger.

Building my muscles each movement,

I recover; blood may flow, 

And I hurt all the same;

What’s worse, I can’t blame you for all, 

I do this to myself.

Will you ever learn stupid girl?

When are you no longer a frightened child?

There are no excuses to justify my crimes;

I know what is right and yet, 

Time and again I find my foe and fight.

A battle with motions memorized, 

A continual siege; I win and lose.

Pound you into the ground, 

Poison you with your potent venom;

But you bounce back and reform, 

Taking on another sin,

To challenge me for awhile;

Making it sound excellent, 

That such a rest wouldn’t be exuberant.

If I’m smart I liquefy you;

Your blood and more stain the ground.

But since I’m human, 

I complicate the issues.

And there are days I pause, 

To be attacked and left weaponless, 

Filled with panic and worry, 

Wandering the valley as the poison seeps deep.

Only in the coming of dawn do I delight, 

Fortitude returns and I smile small, 

Learning my lesson, 

Time and time again.

Experience keeps teaching despite, 

A woman who continues to decide who she is;

Not knowing, not realizing, 

Life is a gory battle, no one escapes.

The scar tissue builds upon scars;

Wounds of war are often the worst, 

When we are not expecting them.

Pulling the dagger from my own back;

It’s a pain I hate to remember vividly.

But I got up;

And I walked on. 

Feeling the dawn heal me;

As I kept on the road.

To another traveller I might seem,

A terrified, desperate girl.

Yet more often I see the same look in another’s eyes;

The knowledge of heart break, repentance, and experience.

A cycle doomed to repeat until we’ve finally learned;

Bigger hands than ours must deal the blows.

Hands which hold,

Entirety of unknown and known universes;

Hands which cradle the world.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.