100 Word Wednesdays – Mandibelle16

#100WordWednesday: Fiction — Violet Falling #amwritingfiction #flashfiction

Steph tilted his chin towards the ‘road closed signs. “While the crews worked, poor Violet tumbled off her balcony.”

Mike sighed. “Happens every summer. She’s gonna have some awful bruising. I’ve lived here most of my life, she was beautiful — used to call her Aunt Violet — but she has her vices too.” He mimed drinking from a flask.

“She has her reasons. Once, she married a lawyer in a bright yellow wedding dress. One day he left; she’s been stern since.” Steph shook his head. “I remember as a kid, she gave us Hershey kisses.” He stretched his arms. “It’s a sad thing but best get back; my wife has dinner on.”

Mike spoke as he turned from his neighbour. “Violet will be fine. Maybe she’ll stop drinking home brew, discover that she’s got lots of time before her.” Stephen shrugged; the two neighbours walked up the porch stairs to their respective homes.

–A.M Eifert

100 Word Wednesday: “Star of the Floor” #amwritingfiction

Credit: Spencer Davis via Unsplash.

Leona tossed her hat. In the end, it was her on the dance floor in nude heels. A flash of light caught her eye on the turquoise ribbon from her hat; she laughed as the audience clapped. Her partner grinned, and she strutted towards the bar. Sweat dripped.

“A shot tonight Leona?” Carlos lifted the tequila bottle; Leona held up her hand.

“Not tonight, just water. Two.” She gulped the first glass, and after the second.

“Take it easy out there, Leona,”Carlos chided. You don’t have to be the star of the show every night. Take it easy sometimes.”

Leona threw back her long hair. “I can’t help it.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “You’re the owner. Some nights it’s okay to relax.”

Leona pushed away from the bar. “I’m a dancer, that’s what I do. My mother did the same, her mother to. You know how it is.”

Carlos’ face broke into laugh lines as he chuckled. “I knew your mother well.”

Leona fixed her lipstick. “She was what she was; so am I.”

The music for the next dance song played and Leona twirled into place. As long as she could, her grandmother and mother’s legacy would continue at the dance club they began.

100 Word Wednesday: Poem —FreeVerse —“Childhood Days Astray” #100WordWednesday #amwritingpoetry

Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday.

Credit: Bikurgurl

Tears of glass splinter, threats exchanged

Paper walls structured, pretend accords signed,

I’m guilty, but I’m not alone —

I’ve learned to apologize when the stubborn refuse.

When their words of ire as fire singe,

Blacken each day with poison deranged.

Refusing to talk, barricaded in your fortress of white noise;

Pushing alliance ‘neath plush 1960 tree-green piles.

Values and assumptions, lumps and bumps,

Consider other perspectives, act beyond perceptions; no more spats without, “I’m sorry for every hurt.”

But we’ll pretend, and if I speak it, the truth doesn’t count.

Children never learn, it’s the adage that chokes you.

It’s never right to not forgive; it’s a flaw in us.

Your grudges are deep, and your reflections skewed,

Forgetting your words, a problem in a string of failures, things I can’t do.

So, you’ll impose and push, no comprehension of what’s suffered —

Boarders not to cross.

What can I do? It’s what you’ve instigated;

So, I kept myself hidden, avoided your target.

And still, we don’t deal in forgiveness, you never admit fault;

I hate you for it, because sorry heals a plenitude of wounds.

But for you it’s just a word, a paltry thing you won’t offer.

You crowd and yell, murmuring old woes, not peering past crumbs and specs;

The film catches, tulips budding now sputter,

The screen pauses, flickers and they fade.

Defective film clicks, cracked as hearts malnourished.

Every family unhappy, in a vicious cycle reacting to our childhood days.

100 Word Wednesday: Fiction – Keep Me #amwriting #100WordWednesday

Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.

Our hidden place, a hollow in rustled leaves, tangled roots, as the river meanders close. I inhale verdant greenery and twigs crunch underfoot, as we sit on tree stumps near the shore.

Some occasions, the river trickles and torrents. At times, it’s poured buckets, and the banks pass eerie, too close to our feet. Sometimes it’s a kiss on our runners as we wade.

In the gleaming sun, the dimple of your left cheek lifts. Your grey-blue eyes sparkle; my hands clench as we banter. They curl around bark, roughness masking my wish to touch your hair — a hint of gray you deny. Your laughter resonates, and we quip as usual. I ruin my white Adidas twirling them in dirt. As the river, your stories flow; but, you’re to far — and to near all at once.

I peer up, nip my lip. “Keep me.” Two words implored.

#OctPoWriMo Day 28/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – English Sonnet – “Eiffel Tower” #amwritingpoetry #100WordWednesday

For OctPoWriMo Day 28 the prompt is “a dilemma. A split path. A difficult choice. Maybe even a chasm or schism.” I’ve combined this prompt with Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday photo prompt.

Credit: Paul Gaudriault via Unsplash

Split as in — split as what? Split as lighted —

Towers as the Eiffel, divides night sky?

Split, you gleam luminescent sighted,

E’n from dim, breathless outer-space’s high.

Did you, majestic tower, split classes?

Levels of archaic demeaning,

Serf, merchants — the King’s ‘Tonne’ harassing.

No food, left starving; the tower stood gleaming.

A literal divide; noble heads rolled.

De Vince’s Masterpiece, a deep chasm?

Perhaps, it stands for more — collaboration?

Witless tyrants passed, yet the world spasms.

Eiffel bright, you’ve witnessed such great errors;

Hope people change — that we’re not all terrors.

#OctPoWriMo Day 13/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Blitz – “Pressure Engraved” #amwritingpoetry #100WordWordWednesday

For OctPoWriMo Day 13 the Prompt is If I We’re You. Also, I’m combining with 100 Word Wednesdays from Bikurgurl’s Photo Prompt.

“Are there things you sometimes need to get off your chest? When was the last time you felt strongly that someone needed to see things from your point of view? I think this prompt lends itself perfectly to a Blitz Poem.”

Credit: Alex Ilby

Such pressure rising as the dim lake drowns

Putrid water invades mr lungs, crushes my chest

Chest choking salt-water terrified

Chest rasping with each tiny breath

Breath weighted with ocean filth

Breath that’s sticky, wet, toxic

Toxic fears cripple my legs, tire-out hands treading

Toxic fears of the half-dead: I’m gasping

Gasping, a dumbbell crushing my lungs

Gasping as I let out deep breathes to cleanse

Cleanse my spirit of skin shivering

Cleanse my heart of this stress-inducing love

Love that drowns and makes me whole

Love that lets me finally find

Find a blissful beach without monstrous waves

Find a warm place on the sand to sleep

Sleep, I yearn for it as banshees screech

Sleep, I beg for it as the predators howl

Howl as I quiver, biting my nails

Howl as my courage trickles away– I’m outwitted

Outwitted by breathless panic, desperate pain

Outwitted, the Minotaurs talons clawing my neck

Neck enwrapped with silken scarves choking

Neck bundled beneath feather-silk, dreams killing

Killing me softly, these life-altering responsibilities

Killing me softly, these rigid expectations

Expectations you hold of I so meek

Expectations you hold, not understanding —

Understanding I’m a pins width from crashing

Understanding how with difficulty, I have strived

Strived to be where I am

Strived to be myself and arise

Arise, but not to discover I’m disadvantaged

Arise, but not to ignore my intuitive doubts

Doubts as steel wool scratches

Doubts as I’m carried out by the tide in the storm’s silence

Silence, if only for a moment I can collapse

Silence, self-care to reforge my walls

Walls of back-breaking stone, tough alloys

Walls that keep the creatures harming at bay, to —

To keep me safe, crippled shoulders un-tensed

To keep my bastion strong, so I can lay me down

Lay me down without your vise-like grip engraved

Lay me down to recover, before I rise to respire and inhale

Gripping my hands, crescent marks engraved

No trembling stress shocking, only mountain air to inhale.

#OctPoWriMo Day 14/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “ A Safety Net” #amwritingpoetry #100WordWednesday

For OctPoWriMo Day 14 the Prompt is If I Were Me. Also, combing with Bikurgurl’s #100WordWednesday.

“Ask yourself, “If I were me…” what would that look like? Who are you really? Have you lost yourself in being a mother, wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, husband, father?”

Credit: Toa Heftiba via Unsplash

Ask for the world, typify me,

Take advantage or carve my insides;

Pumpkin gutted.

I’ve chosen to take, the high road, to believe —

To have faith.

Not to see, things not there.

To reveal the truth,

Even though, curiosity may kill me.

But I’ll be damned if I don’t configure the puzzle pieces;

I’m a writer, I love a good mystery.

So, weave me a tale and I’ll unbind it thread by thread;

Only to see it’s trembling core, where light reveals the mayhem.

I wish for sunlight, carved tables with Zinfandel,

A place to write, you next to me;

No suffocation, no squeezing in my chest,

My liberty not at stake.

Complications, deviations, things I never expected;

Truth and disbelief collide as dynamite splashes.

I am the wind, I am the great detective,

No laudanum needed to dull the senses or to dream.

I am the Amazon and I am Alice,

Slipping back into Wonderland.

And I’ve discovered that beneath facades,

Can lie a beast with scales and teeth.

Slithering, slick, slime of rust,

Questionable creature, Adam’s fall —

Eve’s mistrust; and if I can’t have all the details,

Assemble words into some order,

My decisions might break not only I,

But lives lie in the balance.

One who needs, so I must give,

Because my Lord said give all you can;

And even if you’re wrong,

Heaven will be your table in the sunlight,

Where you can write and find tranquility:

The ambience of love.

If I Were Me,

Who knows,

For she is constantly moulded,

Her Creator’s hands her safety net.

100 Word Wednesday: Fiction – No OverTime Necessary #amwriting #fiction #100WordWednesday

Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday.

Credit: Bikurgurl

Greenwood’s The Angry Beaver quieted me as no place in town. It reminded me of home. Hockey was “the” sport and beavers were noble. The beer was imported Canadian — but not the moonshine most customers hid.

In Canada, we’re fond of beavers, and they’re no harmless rodent. Not when you’ve strode past their river valley dam with your curious dog. Alarmed beavers slap their tails, and snap their teeth. They swim as professional NHL’ers skate, and won’t think twice about fighting.

Danny, the bar owner’s Doberman, was never the same after a beaver ‘battle-royal’. A jersey was pulled over his head when the beaver dove with Danny into the lake. He headed for shore; had Danny fought, the beaver would’ve destroyed him. No OT necessary.

“I am Canadian” – Molson Beaver Attack Commercial

100 Word Wednesdays/Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – Decuaine – “No More Rough Currents” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday #MLMM

Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays and also thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting a Sunday Writing Prompt based on a Watery theme and one of the topics: Up the creek without a paddle, Wading Upstream, The River Flowing Up a Hill, and When the Fish Stop Biting.

Credit: @Bikurgurl

Caramel and cantaloupe burn white,

The sun setting, in fiery depths it gleams.

We struggle ‘gainst the current, it’s our plight,

A journey many take wading upstream.

We fight not to slip, sweat-stained body’s heave,

Then, deltas and islands draw near, take form.

In felicitous breezes, drenched clothes dry clean,

Acrid earth bears us, we tremble on shore.

Caramel, Bellini sky’s, rain pours —

We clasp tight hands waiting for the ‘morrow.

*****

Another night in the grit of sands touch,

We dream of skyscrapers, our souls believe;

We’re past the current, our fingers bold clutch,

Memories, hopes, the warmth of home found breathes.

No more suffering in past with disease.

A butterscotch sky, fresh peaches, tall palms —

The sun rises — a gift, fresh view point now gleaned.

The beach busies, children run as waves fall,

Tumbling sandcastles near shores, claiming walls;

The peace of our Home, no rough currents, at all.

*****

#NaPoWriMo Day 26/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “The Hawaiian Dreamscape” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday

For NaPoWriMo Day 26, the Prompt is: “to write a poem that includes images that engage all five senses. Try to be as concrete and exact as possible with the “feel” of what the poem invites the reader to see, smell, touch, taste and hear.” I’m combining with Bikurgurl’s Week 67 for #100WordWednesdays.

Credit: Bikurgurl

Hibiscus flowers in tawny-hair;

A red bloom fastened in the twilight,

Beneath marmalade sky’s ablaze,

Or raspberry fires in the morning.

Tempting Margaritas dosed,

You’d swear you’d imagined ghosts;

One drink too many —

You’ll order four more.

Skirts of grass woven,

From foliage thick and lush.

The beat of drums pounding,

As belly-dancing interrupts;

The Ukulele’ s strum echoes,

A language unknown;

A beauty in not knowing.

As waves blast the sand,

The surf rises cerulean.

And miles out a creature whirls,

His flip an act of showmanship.

And sweet drinks ingested,

Carry lotus flowers, and in-depth conversation,

On topics no one recalls hereafter.

A language of islands,

Of salt air, the musk of giant fish;

And underneath lies pink-tangerine reefs.

Where fish of rainbows dart in and out,

In an immensity of sizes and looks.

Swimming into shore,

Basking in warm salted-water,

Head beneath waves,

One blinding sting, and another.

For too soon comes home,

Where the world is gray-toned;

It never alights with Hibiscus — red or fuchsia.

No purple orchids,

No waves that soothe the soul.

No greenery or fruit so sweet,

Pineapples and mangos,

Slices of heaven.

Where the tides create summer dreams.

When mornings with sunlight cascades,

Into a rhythm no other place knows.

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