Sleep – Mandibelle16

Poem: “Are You Hope?” #amwritingpoetry #poetry

Are you going away?

Are you leaving these brilliant days for days of stumbling?

When the water whirls tight, and the fish, all they do is fight,

Can you still put things to right?

Can you heal things better now?

You only have to wait.

Because nothing is perfect, and if you’ve a calling, you’ve a calling,

But, some days it feels more like falling,

Into a buttery sky that ignites with tango orange illumination.

Focus — you can only do so much, can you do what you need?

What do you want? What’s the grander picture?

Fight through the wind and the rain; it pours,

Can you distinguish what is right and what is wrong?

Fill my heart where I should go.

Remember those delicate, impressive, stained-glass windows, they demonstrate God’s glory.

Remember time moves quickly,

And we’ve only so long to find clarity, magnificence, and to feel love in the daylight.

We’ve only time to sit and wait before we jump into the whirlpool of life to swim?

Have we strength more powerful than night lights and our nightmares?

Although, butterflies dance through sand, sun, sea, and wind; circles of joy, soft melodies will whisper.

Now that I’ve found morning’s brilliant glow, that I’ve found grace beyond the whirlpool — I’ve found hope.

Poem: Jefferies Sonnet — « The Garden Party Ends » #amwritingpoetry

Credit: Guilherme Steconella via Unsplash.

Jefferies: aabccb (b)ddeffe (c)g,(g)e

A last rest — perhaps, we’ll never know when,

We sleep dreamless in poppy fields, glens.

Those opium-laced mixed with reality’s speel,

Or, vibrant in varied wild flowers.

Here, nature’s best-dressed sway for listless hours,

Fuzzy bee queens waltz on each glad sunflower.

Though alluring, I’d rather Heaven’s fields,

Still, in lively garden paths, lady’s conceive,

To dress for tea in striped lace-sundresses.

Meandering stone trails sipping wine, tasting–

Cucumber, egg salad petite-fours,

Fruit, sweet rumballs, brownies, luscious creampuffs;

We chat fashion, life’s trials, winds gentle gust.

But now, no dainty scenes nor poppy fields.

The garden’s fruitful, people as buds thrive;

I write, the last rest waits, God at my side.

#NaPoWriMo Day 26: Poem — Cascading Etherees — “Summer Dreams” #amwritingpoetry

For NaPoWriMo Day 26, the prompt is: to fill out the questioner below and use your answers to write a poem.

Almanac Questionnaire

Weather: 20 degrees spring warm
Flora: gerbera daisy
Architecture: bi-level 1960’s but renovated
Customs: hmmm … the usual I guess. Watching Netflix together
Mammals/reptiles/fish: dogs any kind almost
Childhood dream: get my masters, who knows what else
Found on the Street: leaves, old fliers from fall
Export: hockey, maple syrup,
Graffiti: the writings on the wall
Lover: none
Conspiracy: fell from reality
Dress: bright blue
Hometown memory: hockey games — in new arena two Christmas’ ago
Notable person: Gretzky
Outside your window, you find: bricks, a fall
Today’s news headline: corona virus
Scrap from a letter: God comfort and save you
Animal from a myth: Minotaur
Story read to children at night: Fierce Bad Rabbit
You walk three minutes down an alley and you find: I’m a block away from the park
You walk to the border and hear: no one allowed though
What you fear: too much right now
Picture on your city’s postcard: Edmonton with Dawson bridge arches and high level bridge at night during Canada Day

Credit: Ben Ashby via Unsplash.

There’s something about spring warmth, lush sun drops,

Lifting heavy eyes, no more shadows.

Same house, now renovated,

Filled with sharp childhood memories.

Or, a new memory where,

We fill silence with —

Netflix, Hula;

Love and war.

Constant —

Still.

*****

We,

Manage,

To dig in–

Plant Gerbera —

Daisies, tilting heads.

Colors nodding towards,

Daylight where dogs bark anthems,

Howls in the parks; hellos snuffled.

Waggly trust compels, despite naivety.

*****

Staring down at red-bricked patio bricks,

My bedroom window sill sits above.

Consider lingering starry —

Daydreams; eternity —

In a water drop.

Time wandering streets.

Leaves crunched to dust;

Grass verdant,

Sprouts.

*****

Then,

Rubber,

Duckies squeak.

Shelf mantle piece.

Decorative, or —

Meaning lost in words, how?

Missing those good old days —

Old hockey games, lingering beyond.

Writings on the wall, people influx,

COVID each word; stop sickness with distance.

*****

Praying hard, with desperation, and pain;

Come again another liquid summer.

As sweet rain equalizes heat;

Dry dust that clambers, still aches.

Fight past ‘Fierce Bad Rabbits,’

Childhood echoes of —

Conquered hurts deep;

Minotaurs —

Fierce Slaughtered;

Victory,

Let sleep.

*****

In,

Parks, all’s —

Spring gorgeous,

Peeps; pups yipping.

Amidst nighttime echoes,

Inky sky, stars glimmering;

No vague hope, much possible.

Sky brights, Dawson bridge arches tall —

Stunning blue;’ high-level’ shimmers —

Pouring multicolored wisdom over black.

*****

Then, my thoughts cease; footsteps towards rest,

Home; I wish the world turned quicker.

Maybe, slower? Accounting aspirations —

Serenity, tranquil —

Lazy days, cerulean.

Sleep, rest soft, quiet.

No noise, no threats;

In comet tails,

Discover,

Ease.

*****

Poem: Italian Sonnet – “For a Bed” #amwritingpoetry

Written the first night sleeping in my own bed after a month and a half away.

Credit: Kinga Cichewicz via Unsplash.

Odd ditty penned, but it’s a dire matter;

Time since I rested in powder-puff hug.

Since I eased in downy-feathers snug.

It’s softness no hospice mattress combats.

Nor it’s cotton-candy duvet flatters.

Pillows topple, soft petal-cotton sheets —

Breath; my body sighs where it’s velvet, skin meets.

Near two-months since I lay swathed in satin.

So grateful was I for home to heal, still —

Wasn’t my bed, blankets twisting while dreams fill.

Oh, how I missed my marshmallow mattress —

But, I ache — some know not sleeps hiding place.

In Cloud-bed find I deepest-drowsy sleep,

Still, the darkness lingers in my mind creeps.

Music Challenge/Saturday Mix: Poem – Trois-Par-Huit – “Sleep in Bliss” #amwritingpoetry #MusicChallenge #SaturdayMix #MLMM

Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Music Challenge #34, “Hey Jude” by the Beatles. Also, thanks to Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix, Lucky Dip. For August 25th, she challenged us to write poetry in the form of trios-par-Huit.

“The Trois-par-Huit was created by Lorraine M. Kanter.

Trois-par-Huit (Three-by-Eight or Octa-Tri for short), a poem containing three stanzas of 3, 3 and 2 lines OR 3, 2 and 3 lines: 8 lines total with a syllable count of 3, 6, 9, 12, 12, 9, 6, 3. The rhyming pattern is AAB BBC CC where the last line is the title of the poem and summarizes the meaning of the poem. *Note: These poems are to appear center aligned. (www.shadowpoetry.com)

Credit: Josh Couch via Unsplash

“Hey Jude” by The Beatles

Remember,

Your heart cannot pretend;

So much is possible; you’ve found her.

*****

Don’t let yourself down, she’s a ray of light profound;

The minute you let her in, you’ll feel better now.

Let the light gleam, grab hands and persist.

*****

Her small sighs consistent;

Sleep in bliss.

#OctPoWriMo Day 20/ 100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Breakfast in Bed” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday

OctPoWriMo Day 20 Prompt is to write about desires and remembering. I’m combining this prompt with Bikurgurl’s #100WordWednesdsay prompt.

——-——

——

Breakfast in bed.

Waking up to —

Rays of light.

Escaping dreams,

Of catch and chase.

Your tired eyes,

Crinkling.

A half grin on your —

Dimpled cheek.

Stubble scratching as you —

Kiss my neck,

Telling me to eat.

Before devouring,

My plate.

Then lying beside me,

I read a book,

You’ve chosen.

Watching you sleep,

With fondness,

With love.

Feeling our magnetism,

Yet asleep,

You’re only a small boy.

Somehow,

I’ve discovered,

Little boys become men,

But never grow up,

If only in sleep.

———
©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

#OctPoWriMo – Day 6/ FFftAW: Poem – Bop – “Reviving” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction

For OctPoWriMo Day 6 the theme is pacing the floor. Also, I’m combining the Prompt with a couple of week’s old FFftAW Prompt held by Priceless Joy

——-

——-

Back and forth, the floor boards are wearing out,

Middle of the night where sleep is doubtful.

High up in my condo, the black sky peppered,

With giant twinkling points of light inspected.

Watching from my glowing widows my feet,

Tapping, then pacing to and fro with defeat.

Now I lay me down to sleep while cars screech.

There’s nothing in me that makes sense of us,

Of our loss, the pain mutually rusted.

How do you find satisfaction being —

Aware of the wall’s writings, not seeing,–

How near the end we were without vision.

Feeling fog come creeping, our schism —

Not a memory useful in the inky night.

I survive, healing , letting go the fight.

Now I lay me down to sleep while cars screech

From high above I watch the night, good friends –

Walking, conversing, laughing, time extends.

Wishing I was below to hear their words laughed,

As my flat isn’t a home but small paths —

Towards more, silencing your name, rising —

In darkness; finding peace, my soul revives.

Now I lay me down to sleep while cars screech.

——-

Writing Prompt: Poem – Quadrille – “Sounds of Sleep” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse

Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for Writing Prompt #218 on night sounds.

Also, I’m combining the prompt with #dVerse WhimsyGhizmo Poet’s Pub Quadrille Prompt on freefalling.

———

——–

Plush, toasty,

Huddled mass,

Bedsheets cotton crumpled,

Furnace’s ember glows.

Sky clouds,

Dreamy veil.

Screeching cars,
Transposed.

Train whistles,

Downy soft knit throws,

Tangled knots.

Nightmares, quandaries,

Thunder roars,

Rain lashes out,

Dishes clinked,

Crickets laughing.

Duck tapped silence,

Drifting — no wings,

Lethargic before,

Free-falling awake.

——-

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Quadrille – “Winged Hope” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse #flashfiction

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW August 29, 2017. Also, thanks to Paul Scribbles of #dVerse Poet’s Pub for hosting a poetry prompt on magic.

——–

——–

Art bleeds,

Nobody’s seen before —

Winged ring,

Mortally wounded.

Some kids arrows —

Embedded.

Forever trickling,

Whenever someone’s —

Dying.

Knives, gunshots wounds.

Whether they’re sick —

On pain medication.

Or dead in sleep.

Winged circle bleeds,

For generations.

Weeping blood,

For death is —

Constant.

Yet in darkness,

Gleams old magic,

Hope’s recourse,

Heals.

——-

Tale Weaver: Poem – Free Verse – “Experiences Penned” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers

Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Tale Weaver’s writing prompt a few weeks back. The prompt theme is ‘The Writerly Persuasion.’

———

——–

Inked stained hands,

Crook in neck,

Yoga relieving aches.

‘Limberness;’

Word searching for.

Scribbling schedule,

Deadlines, vital tasks.

Words appear,

Forced to write.

Hen-pecking,

iPads don’t use,

Primary school,

Typing skills.

Words blurring,

Distancing self,

Eat healthy,

Drink cold tea.

Meals on timer,

Or I’ll forget.

Inspiration shimmers,

Imagination entwining.

Eyes seeking —

Punctuation;

Repeated words,

Grammar errors,

Flow, organization.

1:00 p.m. beginning,

1:00 a.m. now.

Sometime in there,

Watered plants,

Walked.

Sleep anesthetizes,

Creative mind spins,

Dreams — the other world,

From where night,

Experiences are penned.

——-

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