Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Bop – “Set Free” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting the past edition of FFtAW.


Credit:@wildverbs


“Bird Set Free” by Sia


I’ll shout it out, have no doubt, I’ll fly free,

No whispered tunes of birds flitting off key;

A hush of melodies from ages past,

Notes, movements, which won’t disappear — they’ll last.

So, I’ll shout it out like a bird set free.

Singing for love, for possibility,

For the sweetness of words’ probability.

To soar, to rise high, past rising winds,

Find His Spirit within, not to rescind —

Those promises not given lightly, but —

Oaths we crossed ourselves, and kept, to catch gusts —

Off the highest cliffs and spread our wings fast.

Wait; breezes tickle wings, catch the updraft.

So, I’ll shout it out like a bird set free.

Holy Spirit as you rose, naming Him,

Your Holy Son, whose blood liberated sin’s —

Hold on all, on those who who yearned for flight.

No more pain; no more losing wicked fights.

No more bullies who pull feathers out; who —

Know not the joy of sky’s an unknown blue.

So, I’ll shout it out like a bird set free.


©Mandibelle16. (2018)

Photo Challenge: Poem – Bop – “Awake, Come Out”#amwriting #poetry #photochallenge


Thanks to Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting photo challenge #221.


Credit: Mittas Milos via Unsplash


She peers through the hole, an escape from wolves,

Cage so confining; she cant’ soothe her soul.

Not with the threat awaiting, but she sees —

A man with wire-cutters; she can’t conceive,

Why a person wants inside here, hell’s pit.

In a prison, a dystopian city.

If only to escape and right past wrongs.

How long will it take before the guards see?

Her drawing closer to the outside free?

How long until their weapons burn skin, stun;

Encase her once more, ‘neath dark clouds, no sun.

This city’s bleak, an industrial hole,

A dim life with only unending moans;

Those young crepe wrinkled, eyes as burnt-out lights,

No one’s home, they slave, trapped in dreams vapid.

If only to escape and right past wrongs.

Awake, awake, the grass gleams, the sun beams,

Come out, come here, where the air’s clean and breathe;

Leave toxic slums and poisonous waters.

Freedom waits; life not treated as fodder.

Slip out of the hole, amidst bullets and shouts;

Run if you can, don’t stay here scared; come out.

If only to escape and right past wrongs.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge/Tale Weaver: Poem – Free Verse – “Stairway from Forever Winter” #amwriting #poetry #TaleWeavers #PhotoChallenge #MLMM


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting photo challenge #220. Also, thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Tale Weaver prompt on the them of a voyage of discovery.


Credit: Silvia Grav


Shivering as if I’m shedding,

As if I’ll never know heat;

Or a belly without ache.

Crisp bacon and sausage sizzles,

French toast with cream cheese;

Clouds of whipped cream,

Maple syrup flowing in valleys;

Sweet strawberry jam,

Tart on my tongue,

The crisp-softness of toast;

Homemade bread devoured.

Orange juice with champagne,

Sweetness and fizzing bubbles.

Chatter, hands passing,

Sniggers and giggles;

Raising the bar; the bets are laid —

Who can eat the most pancakes?

There is plenty in this dream,

Richness and generosity abounds —

Reality’s barren and frosted.

No warmth of hugs or arms over shoulders,

Until a burning stillness settles.

The sensation of hovering above,

Until your firefly soul lifts.

The memory of family, breakfast with ice-cream,

Strawberry sauce and flaked croissants;

Of food so boundless that all gnawing hunger’s abolished.

No daydream with clawing pains,

Only serenity, path into a place —

Where loved ones suffer not.

Where there’s no war to justify —

No battle to survive;

Nor land that will not thaw to grow.

Above, there’s glowing prosperity,

A joyfulness that never pales.

No ice-white skin preserved in chill,

No forever winter.

A flame that flickers and overwhelms,

Sparks and heat spread,

As butter melts on fresh bread.

Reflecting on golden streets,

A feast as none knew before.

Temporality extinguished,

The relief of a forever home

Not hunger nor strife.

It’s unimaginable,

But after all the misery —

This stairway’s an easy flight.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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


©Mandibelle16.(2018). All Rights Reserved.

Friday Fictioneers/ Three Things: Fiction – “Even the Small” #amwriting #FridayFictioneers #fiction


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff for hosting the Friday FictioneersFlash Fiction of only 100Words. I’ve combined with the 3ThingsChallenge and the words: mattress, golf ball, and green.


Credit: Ted Strutz

We stroll as winds of cooled-heat kiss our skin. The scorch of daylight has faded and twilight means relief, a chance to escape the apartment. Even with a fan, the heat stifles me above my mattress.

I hurry, trying to match the boys’ strides, as mint chocolate chip dribbles down my chin. In the harbor, fishing boats and small yachts reside. To our right is the country club, and an immaculate golf course with greens.

Come dusk, the club turns into the local bar. Sleek design, can’t hide embellished tales, years of laughter and midnights carousing. At night, the patrons care not for decor or social status, but to forget. At night everyone has a story worth telling — even the small.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Three Things Challenge: Fiction – The Homeless Wood Nymph’s Fairytale #3ThingsChallenge #amwriting #fiction


Thanks to the Haunted Wordsmith for hosting the #3ThingsChallenge. Today’s things are: discovery, lace, basketball.


Credit: Caroline Hernandez via Unsplash


Kate tromped through the bushes, in her wedding gown; at least she’d switched to her flats. The fist fight between her fiancé, and his best man, Jim, had her heart thumping fast. She ran to catch Evan as he disappeared into the pussy willows, into the Woods. The sun burnt her skin, and she swore as makeup and sweat melted in rivulets down her face.

She’d met Ev playing pick-up basketball with friends, walking her fiendish dog, Slash. He was a rescue dog, and Ev abhorred him. Slash won him over when Ev learnt that the accident-prone doxie was left to die by the side of a road — just as him. Both doxie and man had a roped scar down their torso.

Ev had studied law within the military, but had been called up for a tour in Afghanistan. A mine exploded, killing one of his squad and leaving Evan half-dead; his right side slick with blood and guts.

It was two-years since Kate met Ev in the park and nine-months since he proposed, but only six-months with therapy twice-a-week that lessened his nightmares of that insufferable day.

Kate’s lace dress tore as she shoved her train over her shoulder. Where was her made of honor, Rose? She couldn’t get out of her corset alone.

“Ev?” In the stillness of nature she searched. “Where are you? What happened with Jim?” No answer, but leaves crackled. “Ev, please. It’s our wedding.” Little trails of blood marked Kate’s skin as prickled branches scratched.

Kate blew out her breath; a long train and flats made hikes through the woods impossible. “Don’t do this to me, don’t ruin our day because of him. You’re out, and you’re finally getting over the horror — you and Slash. You’re working at you’re dad’s practice, and you’re why I haven’t been drinking these past two-months.”

Kate’s throat was raw, and she heard twigs snap as she neared Ev’s scuff-less shoes cast aside. The pussy willow fluff in the air made her sneeze. She wiped her nose and sniffled. Her allergies alone hadn’t caused her eyes to tinge red and her nose to drip. She rubbed her eyes and screamed. Tears leaked out of her eyes, a constant dripping faucet.

“Kate?” Finally, Ev stepped out from the woods, barefoot. Her handsome guy in a fitted suit. He’d thrown his jacket over his arm, and his sleeves were rolled. He held a beer to his blackened-eye.

“Ev, thank God. I’ve been yelling your name forever. There’s barely cell reception, and we’ve missed our ceremony. What happened with Jim?”

Ev grumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to talk, not today.”

“He’s your best man.”

“Not anymore, Cameron’s in.” Kate sat beside Ev on a fallen tree.

It crackled as she sat, and tore at her lace skirt. “You ruined my dress, you know. My mother will never forgive me.”

Ev rubbed a hand over her cheek. “Your shoulders are sun-burnt and you’re face is red; you’ve raccoon eyes too.”

“How observant of you.”

He grimaced then pressed his lips twice against hers, back and forth. “I would’ve come back. I wouldn’t leave you. I told Cameron to say I needed two hours.”

“Well, Cameron wasn’t fast enough. I saw you leave and ditched my Kate Spade’s. While I searched for you I suffered terrible allergies. Now that you’re discovered, I’m mad at you, Ev.”

“I get that. I still don’t want to talk about Jim.”

Kate huffed. She pushed at Ev’s shoulders. He teetered, but didn’t fall. She shoved him until she was pounding at his chest and shoulders. Then Kate rushed Ev as if she were a linebacker. Ev didn’t fall or talk.

Instead, he sniggered, a hand holding his stomach. “You have to stop! My stomach hurts from holding in my laughter of your whimpiness. Stop running at me; you’re exhausted.”

Kate grabbed Ev’s tie and yanked. “You pick up my train and march us back to the ceremony. Don’t pull this shit on me today.”

Ev’s mouth hung open, and Kate closed it, peach nails digging into his chin. “Bella, luckily, will fix my makeup and hair and even has a little vacuum to get the thorns and twigs from my ruined dress. We’re getting married, screw Jim.”

“You don’t want to know what happened?”

“Not until tomorrow.”

“He–”

“Shut it. There maybe no guests, but your dad surely knows a judge who can help us before tonight.”

“Listen Kate –”

“No, you listen.”

“He hurt me. When that landmine killed Jace, he pushed me too. Jim was scared, but he was also a trained soldier. I asked him straight out who pushed me three-years ago. Today, he chose to tell me it was him who left me to die; him who never returned for me until twenty-three hours later.”

“Selfish prick. I’d like to deal with that coward myself. I’m sorry, Ev. I would’ve wanted to tackle him too”

“I’d have forgiven him anything as long as he’d been honest. No guy we were with would’ve said a thing, and they didn’t. It wasn’t their fight. But, it’s two-years later and he’s lied all this time. I went through so much. I’m still going through it.”

Kate swore and grabbed her phone from her clutch. She texted Rose.

“What are you doing?” Ev’s grey-eyes were wide. His hand stopped her typing.

“I postponed things. We’ll get married at the hall tonight before the fesitivities. It will be a half-hour, not a whole service, thankfully. This time away’s more important.”

Ev nodded and she gawked as tears ran down his face. “I’ve never seen you cry. Not even in physiotherapy.”

He pulled her down next to him, and buried his face in her neck. A wet cooling sensation flowed onto her collar. She barely flinched when his tears stung her sunburned skin. He needed to get this out, and Kate didn’t want him to notice her pain. She embraced Ev, and didn’t move until he was done.

Eventually, he peered up. “How much time?” His voice rasped and his face was flushed.

“Until 5:30 p.m. Rose and Cameron have it arranged. Everyone saw what happened with Jim. They’ll understand.”

Ev pushed a hand through his chocolate hair and wiped his eyes. “My face is probably as red as yours.” Kate leaned against him and the rip of her skirt up her leg made them both wince.

Ev shrugged. “It’s okay, babe. We’ll deal with it. We’ll get through tonight, and everyday after that. You’re my new bestie, and Cameron’s been promoted too.” She smirked and entwined their fingers.

Her thumb brushed over his mouth and his hand wrapped around her head, as he laid it on her shoulder.

Ev played with her curls. “Now, I look like a homeless wood nymph. Your fingers aren’t helping my hair. Ev kissed her neck beneath her ear.

She rested her cheek against his hair, as he laughed. “I like your new look. The amount of leg where your dress ripped is also an improvement.”

Kate elbowed Ev and he sniggered. He placed his hands around her face. “Is it true I’m the reason you haven’t been drinking? Is it because -?” She nodded and Ev’s eyes twinkled. When he grinned and rocked her back and forth, she knew the wedding would turn out.

He placed his hand on her belly. “Let’s hope Slash isn’t the jealous type.”


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Seven Times Seven” #amwriting #poetry #PhotoChallenge #MLMM


Thanks to Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Photo Challenge.


Credit: Gamze Bozkaya via Unsplash


Pumping legs into the azure,

O’r mountains of snow and rock,

O’r the lush valley below.

Sweat dripping, hands clenched,

Thin cord strung to a wooden plank.

Legs bending, back and forth,

Lungs gasping as I fly.

Seven times seven, as fresh mountain air inhaled.

Breath respires,

Wondering if after seven times seven,

I could soar as the hawks or the jays?

Or would I crumple? A boulder colliding with the ground;

A meteor splintered.

Bones snapping, pine’s lashing.

Seven times seven; I’m not afraid.

But, in our cabin above the valley,

They’re yelling, and she screams.

The blows fall; I cringe, heart flutters rapid.

Pushing my legs forward and back,

Seven times seven, how long can she survive?

Each fight’s more grim.

Seven minutes, then she’s crying, and wounded;

I wash away the blood.

Bandage and set the bones beneath purpled orchid skin.

She says to forgive seven times seven,

But, my hate has increased sevenfold;

His fists mutilate her each time.

Seven-years trapped up here,

But, in seven-days we’ll run.

No more soaring, no more crystal skies,

For seven times seven,

For her life and mine.

I must steal her away —

Not to die with each sip of his rye.

We’ll lose ourselves,

Seven times seven million miles away.

He’ll never find us — not in his forty-nine years.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction/ Saturday Mix: Poem – Prose Poetry – “We the People” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix #SPF


Thanks to Susan for hosting SPF. Also thanks to Sarah from MindLoveMisery Menagerie’s Saturday Mix Prompt of Opposing Forces. Today the two sets of words are: permit and forbid, and visitor and host. Sorry, this is longer than the regular 200 Words.


Credit: C.E. Ayer


He permits and forbids without reason, with much fallacious thought. He twists words as vines and slithers. A side-show becomes the center of the circus ring, as he pretends he can make you great.


But you don’t need him to flourish. Your strength is in your people, you’ve the right, the ability, to burn such policies to ash. You were great before his birth, before his residence. And — into time, and into the past — his words will fade as hell’s bells knell. With each message of condemnation, each compliment a serpent’s tongue lisping. You never know if you can trust him, and such delusion is surely a crime.


Yet, in a Republic or a Democracy, citizens may choose and remove those who speak only to their self-glories, not of Him above or those soldiers sacrificed; not of the everyday person’s self-sacrifice. He plots and in isolation, he’d have you flounder believing every typed character, every Slytherin parcel-tongued lie rasped. Not the truth that he’s cast on his belly and is nourished in slime. You’re not great because of him, but you are great despite him.


We, your ever watchful neighbor, curse the writing on the wall. Sometimes you’re all too near to see the deception that slips through every crack. Thistle-thorned, tree trunk-sized weeds, poisoning all right. But, if you blocked his words and turned away, gave him no more votes or attention. If you ignored him as a child who tantrums, and slammed the door to his room — his words and lies would fade, no more cats yowling. You could be as one who enters into a serene and secret garden, where suddenly, the silence of blubbering ceases, and your mind crystallizes.


You are the people, and no matter your past vote, you have more power than one man’s ploys. You can forbid his doctrine and not remain astray. While you’re a host of greatness forever reclaiming your liberation, you’ve also the freedom to make his presence, his disturbed and loquacious visit, a memory. Everyone falters, everyone knows the anger of manipulation — we’re all human. So, revise your independence for you all as, “We the People,” are the way to greatness.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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.

*****


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales/ Saturday Mix: Poem – Lunes – “Come Morning” #amwriting #poetry #3LineTales #SaturdayMix #MLMM


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. Also, thank you to Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix JUNE 16, 2018 with her Same But Different Prompt. The words we must find synonyms for include: shoe, sweep, wash, sky, and duck.


Credit: Mark Dalton via Unsplash


Sandals pace across the dock,

Mango sunset floods;

Sails enfolded, bodies weave below.

*****

Avoiding knife-words, brush past,

Conversations shouted, our —

Voices spitting, rocking the vessel.

*****

Now night’s atmospheric stars collide,

Dusk’s blush flushes.

Come morning, sails glide devoted.

*****


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.