Promote Yourself Monday- October 1, 2018


Share your favorite link from your blog inside the Go Dog Go Cafe. We love to see your work 🙂 #amwriting #GDGC

Go Dog Go Café

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Welcome to Promote Yourself Monday.  All Go Dog Go Cafe readers, guest writers, and baristas are invited to post one link to one specific post (600 words or less please!) from your blog into the comments section below.

If you post a link, be sure to read some of the other great writing people have linked to.

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#OctPoWriMo 2018 Day 1/ Sunday Writing Prompt/ #PhotoChallenge: Poem – “Death’s Twilight” #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 1 the theme is surrender. I’m combining with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt on the poem, “Lady Lazarus” by Sylvia Plath. Also, using a photo prompt from NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie.


Credit: Natalia Ruka

She rises, you think she’d shrink,

Lose her footing with knobby bones, bloody footprints;

But, she’s a miracle and survives despite —

The annihilation of her heart.

No surrender, no train cars full of the sick and dying;

No camps of death will kill her.

She won’t surrender, she’ll paint you a dream,

A masterpiece of despair and scribbled features.

A portrait or less, no seashell rocking shut;

She rasps, vapours of her lost innocence.

Herr who?

With battered purple sockets.

Herr who?

A dream or nightmare trawling.

I have no dreams of innocence, only a suffering spitefulness for your hate.

Words that shattered the cracked mirror,

Seventy times seven bad luck.

Herr who?

Miss Plath, your words are riddled traps.

Herr who?

She fakes death, blood and bone snapped;

Flesh from hands shredded.

Your terror camps and eyes of sunken sin,

Can’t make her alive, though she’s not yet, dead.

Be on guard for those caught in-between;

Those who aren’t afraid as the breath in their lungs rattles.

Beware of those who see death and leave life;

The exact meeting of one leaving the elevator, while the other travels home.

Beware of hair as hellfire, she the angel of death;

No surrender, for none was given her.

Beware her yawning grin,

And hollow eyes as she devours men like air;

Destiny with her twisted wings,

Her opalescent fluttering, a sheen that hides the bitter.

Her charcoal hands twitching as they sketch the twilight of death.


“Lady Lazarus” by Sylvia Plath

*****

I have done it again.

One year in every ten

I manage it——

A sort of walking miracle, my skin

Bright as a Nazi lampshade,

My right foot

A paperweight,

My face a featureless, fine

Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin

O my enemy.

Do I terrify?——

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?

The sour breath

Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh

The grave cave ate will be

At home on me

And I a smiling woman.

I am only thirty.

And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.

What a trash

To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.

The peanut-crunching crowd

Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot——

The big strip tease.

Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands

My knees.

I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.

The first time it happened I was ten.

It was an accident.

The second time I meant

To last it out and not come back at all.

I rocked shut

As a seashell.

They had to call and call

And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying

Is an art, like everything else.

I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.

I do it so it feels real.

I guess you could say I’ve a call.

It’s easy enough to do it in a cell.

It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.

It’s the theatrical

Comeback in broad day

To the same place, the same face, the same brute

Amused shout:

‘A miracle!’

That knocks me out.

There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge

For the hearing of my heart——

It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge

For a word or a touch

Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.

So, so, Herr Doktor.

So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,

I am your valuable,

The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.

I turn and burn.

Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—

You poke and stir.

Flesh, bone, there is nothing there——

A cake of soap,

A wedding ring,

A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer

Beware

Beware.

Out of the ash

I rise with my red hair

And I eat men like air.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “All of Eternity Lit” #amwritingpoetry


Credit: David Becker via Unsplash

All of the lights, those vast ships distant.

All of the lights, those mesmerizing jewels.

Shining orbs, dazzling stars,

Dust as gold left in a meteor shower.

All of the lights with infinite yearnings pulse;

With possibility, potential in a thousand galaxies.

Lying in grass sharp, sweet, succulent;

A cushion topped with flannel plush.

We lay entwined, watch the lights, the airplane’s beams;

The choppers blades swooping, pulsing red.

And a hawk’s eyes knife-like, caustic —

While cotton-mice speed ‘cross the field;

Scurrying — not to become a carnivore’s meal.

The sway of the grass lilting hums in evening breeze,

A tune of jabberwockies murmuring hushed.

Birds to long kept, so out of skyways they burst, rapid in flight.

So much light, so vast, yet around us —

The night swallows the bright.

Pitch-black skims past day with purple-charcoaled tar.

And ribbons of white dots, glistening glitter burst;

The serenity of celestial maps; the cosmology of stars, distant worlds.

Astrological divination; but yet here we are — and we stare in awe.

All of the lights, they gleam in your worn denim eyes,

Barely visible in shadows.

All of the lights, the fireworks live-wired in my chest;

They explode on my lips as we taste sparks together.

Our lips ignite — tornado-fires speed; they can’t be stopped.

But, eternal eulogies to the dim, it cannot conquer,

For true darkness never will defeat.

The light came first,

The light will outlast,

The light was and is,

Never can be not.

All of the lights, Heaven’s perennials,

Speeding cars on highways glisten.

The sheen of sweat, and the gleam of skin;

Eternity in moments forever lit.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

How to Maintain Your Motivation on a Large Writing Project


Endurance in writing, on any large project, is difficult to maintain. Here’s some great tips! #amwriting #endurance

A Writer's Path

by ARHuelsenbeck

When I resigned from my teaching job four years ago, I resolved to do things around the house that I hadn’t had time for while I was working, like tackling our “garage of doom.” Our house, built in 1979, was showing its age, and our heavy wooden garage door looked shabby and decayed. I told my husband the garage had to be cleared out before we could order a new door.

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Notable Quotes: September 2018 Part Two #notableqoutes #pinterest #quotes


Welcome to September 2018 Quotes Parts Two. May you find inspiration and strength, and sometimes, a laugh or two.


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©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Octaine/Double High – “Summer’s Deserted” #amwritingpoetry #winter


Credit: Mandibelle16


Promote Yourself Monday- September 17, 2018


Share your best link at the Go Dog Go Cafe’s Promo Monday’s. #GDGC #amwriting

Go Dog Go Café

Picture1

Welcome to Promote Yourself Monday.  All Go Dog Go Cafe readers, guest writers, and baristas are invited to post one link to one specific post (600 words or less please!) from your blog into the comments section below.

If you post a link, be sure to read some of the other great writing people have linked to.

View original post

Pre-order Jennifer Calvert’s ‘Polly’ Today! #writers #authors


Pre-order Polly Today! By the talented Jennifer Calvert.



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.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Nonfiction – Of Encyclopedias and Great Poets #amwritingnonfiction #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.


Credit: David Cantelli via Unsplash


In university, most professors agree that encyclopedias are not proper scholarly sources, but they work well as background information; to discover facts that require further support. Old books waft certain aromas, a headiness, but also a mustiness, an acrid reminder of the past and all the knowledge these encyclopedias contain; knowledge judged inaccurate and unreliable alone.

I was studying the poet Samual Taylor Coleridge, and I paused, thinking if in the academic ‘encyclopedia’ of my Literary Criticism textbook, Coleridge’s writing was valid and acclaimed by modern peers, or if he too spouted words too many scholars scoff at and ignore; does his literary criticism require more validation — the answer is simple, nothing can be read at face value, not even the musings of great poets.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.