Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to “write a poem that incorporates the vocabulary and imagery of a specific sport or game.” The A to Z Challenge GoodReads quote author’s name begins with the letter Q.
“Time present and time past are both perhaps present in time future. And time future contained in time past.” ― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
I feel like I’ve been distant on here lately. But sometimes you need a break from the usual. I have always found it easy to pull a lot of inspiration from myself and those around me. From past experiences and from my friends and events around the world. Christianity too can be something encouraging as well as a vivid imagination.
I have been trying my hand at some freelancing but it’s been a lot of effort. It saddens me to see how little a writer’s words are worth be they for blog, article, or essay. But at least where I am now pays a better than where I started at which was doing short pieces of writing for experience only. So I have been trying to do some other writing as well as blogging. Some days it’s works and others not so much. I know I’ve had to cut back on my prompts recently so my blog schedule will be based on how much I have to do each week for freelancing. I’m not earning much of a thing but at least I feel like I’m contributing a bit more and learning new ideas.
I also continue to look for and submit poetry and some short story fiction to some different sites and magazines as well as edit my novel when I’m able to focus on a couple of chapters at a time. If anyone enjoys writing and is interested in being a beta reader for a paranormal romance please let me know. I would appreciate your opinions very much. My book is on Wattpad so you’d have to read it in their, but it has an app and allows a person to comment on each chapter after they’ve read it. Or you can go to the site on your computer HERE. Just check it out and if you’re interested in reading my book, let me know in the comment section below. I appreciate it! 💕❤ My user name is @mandibelle16.
One thing I love about writing is that I am always acquiring more knowledge. Recently, I have been doing more academic writing and I have been relearning citation and rules for academia. At the same time I think about my novel and my other creative writing in the back of my mind, finding distance has given me a better perspective on my plots, characters, and stories.
Also sometimes watching your favourite TV or Netflix programs, reading books, and walking outside in the warmer weather we’ve been having, makes one feel well and helps me think things through and visit different angles. “Suits” is an excellent and entertaining legal drama if anyone’s interested in watching the seasons on Netflix. As I’m going through my own case right now, it drew me in but its characters are witty, charming, and funny except for the character of Louis. But you have to hand it to the actor, he does a superb job of being slimy and repulsing lol.
Additionally, I’ve also been drawing, working on portraits, and colouring using various mediums. Art very much inspires me so it’s been fun to play around with that a while. I’m also working on a few technical glitches with my blog and the WordPress app, trying to figure some of those things out as well. I do want to make some changes to my blog. It’s only a matter of sitting down, figuring them out in the little time I have concentration well enough — along with everything else — and then doing those changes. Eventually, I’ll figure it out 🙂
As well, I’ve been working on my health. This year I have tried to learn a more basic healthy recipes and I’ve researched my health condition a bit more. I’m doing this 5:2 Diet which means five days a week you eat how many calories you would eat for your body and amount you exercise. It’s recommended for CFS/ME patients as medication can cause significant gain. As I can do little beyond a small walk now and then and some weight loss yoga, I eat just over sixteen hundred calories a day but of course a woman who exercised more or was just out and about more would eat around two thousand calories or more on a normal day.
On a side note: I so recommend an online subscription to Gaia if you can’t make it to yoga classes at the gym always. They have all different levels and lengths of workouts. From beginner to difficult yoga of all types, to Pilates videos, meditation and breathing videos, and short little videos that relieve back or neck pain in around ten minutes which I love. Everyday new videos are added and you there is such an array of options that it is so worth the subscription about $13.00 (in Canadian currency)/month and I think anywhere from about $7.00 to $9.00 US depending on your subscription.
Anyways, two days a week on the 5:2 Diet, you choose which days you eat only 500 calories as a woman and only 600 if you’re a man. Once you get into it, it’s not so bad and you learn what foods are filling and healthy to eat. I haven’t been able to drop to five hundred calories but about to 600 on fast days. I do yoga of twenty to twenty-five minutes for two and sometimes three days a week and I’ve been able to lose what the diet promises, about a pound a week. So for me after three weeks, three pounds and today was the first time I noticed my clothes fitting better. That’s my hope honestly, for my clothing that I own and like a lot, to fit well. Also, to be able to continue purchasing future clothing in regular sizing. (P.S. I have plans for some spring fashion and makeup blogs so we’ll see how things go later!!).
Once a person gets to their ideal weight on the 5:2 Diet, they can keep fasting two days a week or drop to one day a week to maintain. Out of all the programs/diets I’ve tried I love that this is safe weightless and healthy because it’s four or five pounds a month and about making choices to eat better and to exercise instead just for a little bit at a time.
You don’t receive that instant ‘wow factor’ as fast-diets promise but I believe this is healthier for you because it takes place over months and is doable for ‘life.’ If you mess up, choose another day that week to fast and after the first week you honestly are used to the fasts for the two days. Two days are easier than dieting for an entire week all the time.
I didn’t think it would work as I had read about it before with caution. However, the plan worked for a family member first who showed my some YouTube videos on it and they were quite convincing. He has lost the weight and maitained his level of exercise. So something to check out if you’re interested. I borrowed the book from the library and it’s a simple diet to be sure.
Also, I’m afraid my biweekly interview is going to be a day or two late this week as I’ve got to finish a project first. So apologies there. As for my lack of writing and commenting, I will do as much as I’m able.
So without further ado, here’s a poem I wrote a while back. It’s comforting but also sad. It’s based around, knowing a loved one is facing the end. It’s difficult for the person and their loved ones, but at the same time, relief because that person will never feel pain again in Heaven.
Thanks for reading!
” I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.” – 1 Timothy 4:7-8 (NIV)
One last mile, one more Christmas comes to pass,
Praying for ages, memories and lifetimes.
The quicksand buries, but light still yet shines,
A beacon, slowly immersed — death’s paid wrath,
We don’t know how long the present will last.
Keep wide the door, heaven’s gate you’ll enter,
All time converges, earth isn’t center.
We’re a blip, nothing’s linear, we’re the past;
Before glory, laud, and honour shown,
Is to God, in our eternal rest and home.
Someday you’ll go, tears mark your finish line,
But these days you run, pray you’re unconfined;
To be free of your burdens, what you dread,
Your time with us not taken — not the end.
You’ve run the race my friend, endured the course,
And all our memories are so dear, of your face —
Brightly lit, your smile, a fighter’s proud grace.
You kept it up, as long as you could, and would —
Have had a runner’s chance, enduring pain, stood —
Humbled but kept striding in all you faced.
Every hill with vision, pose, setting your pace;
Life, your race, needed winning; without fear —
Embrace theend engaged; approaching so near,
Throw yourself into battle you’ve waged,
Never to be a victor, not to be caged;
Instead found eternal rest, your end page,
Last word fin, your Lord called: “Come home dear one.”
“Wow, Dad. Look at that space suit. I want to wear it,” William said to Ben.
“Uh, no. Not happening.”
“This is major Tom to ground control / I’m stepping through the door/ [and] I’m floating in the most peculiar way.”
“Take the headphones from your ears and listen to your son,” Violet chided.
“I’m listening to William. He wants to wear the space suit and I said he can’t. What else can I say?” Ben asked.
“Just stop listening to your iPhone and be present,” Violet said rolling her eyes.
“But I have to finish this song. It’s a classic –the theme song to this museum moment.”
“What song Dad?” William asked curious.
“David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity.”
“Oh, I love that song, turn it up. Take the headphones out,” Violet said. William nodded in agreement.
They chuckled before singing out loud: “For here am I sitting in a tin can / [far] above the world / [planet] earth is blue / [and] there’s nothing I can do . . .” until they reached the end of the song.
When they had finished the three of them looked up surprised to have everyone present at the museum’s space exhibit applauding their singing.
I told them I couldn’t do it anymore because the hours were too long and even after twenty-years, I never felt recognized for my achievements. Management said I was a ‘nobody’ that there was nothing different about me from any other employee they dealt with, but then I found out other storm troopers felt the same way I did. Just because we’re clones doesn’t mean we do everything exactly the same, that some of us aren’t better workers than others –so here we are brainstorming ideas of how we can as individuals stand out in The Empire and to the Emporer; I’m excited things have gone this far.
I considered the colour red. How I’m equally attracted and repelled by it. How I pass by a red v-neck sweater in the right shade, but mix my acrylic colours, blend them until my instincts say stop; stop sign red. No wait . . . a bright cool startling red appears on my canvas. I think this is passion and passion is the boldest red. I think of how I not only crave to paint in vivid red, but in many vivid colours and textures. How I trace the feeling of layered paints with my fingers, and hunger for other colours with my eyes – blue, green, and purple. Though I adore all these colours, my favourite paintings are all in red.
As with my love for sexy heels, which I adore in red too. If red is passion, what more can I say about women and sensuality then red shoes. They’re expression and fierceness. Like Kelly Picklers song “Red High Heels” — “I’m about to show you just how missing me feels, in my red high heels . . .” Red for revenge, red for moving on, red for love. But I hate red for love, it’s memory is sickening. He looked good in that colour – almost the best.
Yet red is so many things more. It’s anger, hate, rage, hurt, demons dreaming — the beast inside who does not die. Red is sinful, delicious, and deadly. It’s sex and power; a primilness. It’s royalty and blood, red blood spilled for in the body it’s blue (hence bluebloods). I love how classic red is — nothing more classic then a cat eye and red Bridget Bardot lips. Nothing as classic as red Mustang.
I don’t wear red, the colour outshines me and doesn’t fit with such pale skin and blond hair. Please no red dress – I’d rather blend in and be a classic black or navy dress cut perfectly. But I seek out bits of red and cling to them, not wanting red to blind me. Only some sparkle and razzle dazzle to hold in my hand. Red nail polish is beautiful, with a bit of bling Red as some of the lights in Las Vegas and red fireworks; red stoplights.
Red is perplexing because it’s complex, not simple at all. Red is nationalism and red is internationalism. It’s a proud Canadian colour and I don’t mind wearing it on our Nation’s Birthday. Or cheering on our Canadian hockey teams in the Olympics and junior hockey.
As well, roses are so divine, so deadly pricking your finger. Red, passion and pain. Together swirled these colours of red, of love, and hate collide. There are many shades of grey, but even more shades of red. It’s more than a primary colour it calls as a siren, “Look see me.” No one hides in red. Red cars are often caught barely speeding and Red is a theme of many songs albums as in “Red” as T. swifts song and album and the Beatles album “Redone.” Red as “My love is like a red red rose.” Some choral song I cannot recall.
But I’m sitting here, music blaring trying to decide what to paint. I’ve that special shade of red and it’s mixing and melding with other colours. Shades and tones. I see, red on my canvas and it bleeds. Red blood, blood . . .life, the most prolific association. Red is blood. Blood is life. Red such as poppies, that we must always remember. Red for anger, red for hate, for war. Red to hurt, poor the droplets down a crystal glass. Red red wine. To drink away the blood and crippling thoughts. Red to forget. I like a Malbec with bite. A Zinfandel to make me chatty. A Merlot or Cav-Sav with some friends. Red sangria is delicious. Red strawberry margaritas because there’s real fire in tequila. Red is too many things, too symbolic, too self-contradictory. Red is life.
Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s Shadorma alternative a “Baker Street” themed after Sherlock Holmes and the popular show on BBC with Sherlock Holmes.
“The rules for this alternative to a Shadorma called “A Baker Street” are: Each stanza has three lines. Line 1: 2 syllables. Line 2: 2 syllables. Line 3: 1 syllable and includes a “b” in the word. You may choose to bend the rules and substitute any consonant or vowel for the “b” – so long as you use the same consonant or vowel in each third line. There are no specific rules regarding number of stanzas, rhyme, meter, linking stanzas, not linking stanzas, etc.”
Dorothy had a wonderful time with the munchkins in their village. She had been celebrated as the killer of the Wicked Witch of the East. The Good Witch Gelinda sent Dorothy down the yellow brick road with the deceased witch’s ruby red slippers adorning Dorothy’s feet.
The shoes were heels and uncomfortable. Dorothy soon regretted she could not take them off. She was leaning against a fence, resting her feet, when she thought the scarecrow beside her talked.
“What?” Dorothy asked the scarecrow, “Did you say something?”
The scarecrow continued making funny noises which was when Dorothy, a good Catholic, believed the scarecrow was possessed. She decided to burn the scarecrow and the demon out.
Lighting him afire she watched as the scarecrow screeched and fell in the middle of the yellow brick road, blackened hay and cloth all that remained.
Dorothy smiled to herself. Wicked witch of the East, check. Possessed scarecrow, check. Wizard of Oz here I come!
The sky was black and the woods silent. Even the stars seemed not to glimmer.
Rev. Jones was sweating hidden in the bushes. He could feel the shudders of fear coursing through his body. He held onto the cross at his throat.
Swish. Right near Rev. Jones head, an axe swung. Rev. Jones didn’t bother to look and see who was trying to behead him, he knew and he ran for the covered bridge, stark terror overcoming him as he tried to surpass the headless horseman.
It was to no avail, the horseman in his armour popped down from the top of the covered bridge as it ended. He twisted his axe, showing off, letting Rev. Jones know, there was no way to escape him.
Rev. Jones screamed as the axe hit his throat and his head was lopped off his body, eyes blinking a few moments afterward.
The headless horseman picked up Rev. Jones’ head and placed it in his bag. His mistress had three more heads for him to collect that night, and so he would.
Ichabod Crane stared at the headless body at the front of the covered bridge.It was really dark last night, (the stone mason who had found the body said). But he was sure this bridge was the place of the murder. Ichabod had done all the appropriate medical tests, and figured out Rev. Jones the Vicor, had been beheaded around 1:00 am last night.
It was no surprise, prominent members of the community were dropping like flies. But Ichabod wondered as he had before when this nightmare last occurred, who was controlling the headless horseman now?
Based off of one my all time favourite movies Sleepy Hollow with Johnny Depp and Christina Ricci.