Animals/Pets, Black Out, Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo Day 18: Poem – Blackout – “The Cave” #amwriting #poetry 


For OctPoWriMo Day 18 I’ve chosen my own prompt of blackout poetry. 

——-


——— 

Go to places on Earth,

The most extreme environments. 

Track down Arizona in Death Valley, 

On the shores beneath iceshelf[s]. 

Desert some island north to find, 

[un]Imaginable trips to batt-ridden cave[s]. 

Studying environments where a human would, 

Cross the cosmos, other planets, 

Undeterred by the Face-smashing, 

By the constant wetness, the darkness.

The slight possibility that whatever, 

Exotic diseases, might enter, ask —

If encountering unknown.

We think it’s moderately unlikely. 

The cavefloor with water of varying depths, 

No transparency, walk[ing] gingerly,

To avoid discovering unmapped water. 

A walk in the park — no ropes, just some crawling, 

Eventually reach deepest chamber, 

Spun webs, bat’s zagged and zinged, 

Emitting their high pitch. 

Red rock walls with green slime, 

Gypsum paste and limestone in process, 

Dissolved by sulfuric acid. 

I was thinking, 

This cave resembled lobbying

To recognize.

—— 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
 

Animals/Pets, Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Memories/Childhood, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: What Does the Fox Say? #amwriting #flashfiction  


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

—-

Credit: Alastair Forbes – A Mixed Bag

——

Yelvis -“What Does the Fox Say.”

——
Geraldine giggled. “What does the fox say, Daddy?”

“Um, I think he barks.”

“Could I be a fox for Halloween?”

Brian shuffled his feet. “If that’s what you want, we can attempt to find a costume for you. You don’t want to be Belle anymore?”

“I like Belle but Elsa’s a better princess. But the best costume is a fox, like in the song.”

“What song?” Brian was confused. 

Geraldine shook her head making a show of sighing. “How can you not know the song. It’s on your iPad Daddy?”

“Mom put it there.”

Geraldine giggled again. She started laughing. “Your just saying that, Dad. Can you make the fox noises again, like in the music video?”

“Err, not here.”

“Yes, here now.”

“Well we’re in the middle of the Halloween costume store. I don’t want to embarrass myself, Ger. Let’s see if we can find your fox costume, okay?”

“No Daddy, sing it. Sing the whole song.”Geraldine’s doe brown eyes began tearing up. 

Brian sighed, flipping to Geraldine’s favorite song on his phone. “Do I have to sing, can’t I just play you the song.”

Geraldine sniffled and shook her head. 

Brian tried to breath deeply. “Okay, here it goes . . .” 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Books, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: A Touch Too Mad #amwriting #Wonderland #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF on August 27, 2017

——-

Credit: Dawn M. Miller

——-

“What’s this new game we’re playing?” Alice brushed back her hair. 

“You’re all out here with teacups balanced on chair legs. What’s going on?”

The White Rabbit checked his pocket watch. “It’s time for tea, right now.”

The March Hare laughed, “Such an interesting game. Good thing the Door Mouse is on hiding in a teapot.”

Alice stomped her foot.”Really, explain yourselves!” 

She heard a maniacal laugh. “Oh, Hatter. There you are. I was getting worried.”

The Mad Hatter bowed, “Yes, my girl, you’re right on time. Now where is your pistol?”

“Pistol? I’m twelve! What do I need a pistol  for?”

“To shoot the teacups and what’s inside them,” said the March Hare.

“This is even crazy for you guys. Wait! What’s inside them?”

The Hatter removed his favorite silk hat. “Oh, you’ll love it! We shrunk them down, put a drop in their tea.”

“What have you done, Hatter? Rabbit, you need to tell me immediately.”

The White Rabbit removed his pocket watch and vest. “We shrank the cards, three hearts, of course.”

The Mad Hatter laughed, “The best part isn’t the cards it’s the Queen.”

“The Queen of hearts?”

“Yes, Alice,” said Hatter. “Do you know what cup she’s in?”

Alice’s eyes grew round. She cringed as the March Hare took his first shot missing. Then the Mad Hatter shot his pistol shattering a tea cup. 

He handed Alice his pistol.”Here you are now. Only two cups left and a fifty- fifty chance you’ll hit the queen.”

Her face went white. Alice starred into the Mad Hatter’s crazed eyes and swallowed. 

When did Wonderland become so insane? 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, Beauty, Fashion, Fiction, Food/Recipes, Health, Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver: Poem – Lunes – “A Day Shopping” #taleweavers #poetry #shopping #amwriting 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting August 26, 2017 Tale Weaver prompt on shopping

——-

Shopping Loudge Unsplash
Credit: Loudge via Unsplash

——–

Much is proffered buying, selling —

Various types clothing, 

Makeup, perfume, jewelry, and scarves.

——-

If the price’s too rich, 

We’ll window shop, 

Try on Channel, Dior, anyways. 

——-

Perhaps we’ll wait until they’re —

Sales in stores, 

We can afford buying from.

——–

Buy what we love quality and —

Better priced, classic —

Natural fabrics, Aubrey Hepburn styles. 

—–

Maybe we’ll test perfumes floral, 

On papers, wrists, 

Apply thirty facial highlighters glimmering.

—–

Perhaps we’ll find the right —

Shade, skintone for —

Foundation that’s wonderful, covers perfectly. 

——

Maybe we’ll smother ourselves in —

Silk scarves with —

Rainbow colours; every size, shape. 

—-

Trying on high heels our —

Legs appearing long, 

Gorgeous, aching feet all night. 

—–

What about something delicate, silken —

To sleep in;

Matching five-inch Jimmy Choos. 

—–

Silk blue sweaters, wool coats, 

Little black dresses —

Hugging curves; cotton-stretch v-necks,

——-

Knee-high leather boots winter’s —

Calling; gold sandals —

For summer’s heat, beach vacation. 

——

Rose-gold necklaces polished, tangled, 

Pearls rings gleaming; 

Nail polish, pink blush, lipsticks —

—-

Matte or moisturizing, sparkling, holographed. 

Moisturizer, anti-aging —

Serums with Retinol, Vitamin whatever. 

—–

How about we stop driving —

Home; explore the —

Market, pet the dogs, purchase —

—–

Crisp baby carrots, fresh corn.

Peaches and cherries; 

Blushing nectarines, just-picked raspberries. 

—–

Homemade wine, high alcohol content —

Breath in reds, 

Touch of tartness, sweet white —

—-

Rieslings; homemade tequila or moonshine, 

Slushy strawberry margaritas. 

Apple-pies warm, mince-meat pie —

—–

For Dad; with shortbread that —

Melts slowly on,

Our tongue, gourmet chocolate gelato. 

—–

Dog treats for ‘good dogs,’ 

Organic peanut butter —

Grandma’s homemade raspberry jelly too. 

——

How about honey straight from —

Bee hives dripping, 

Into hot tea at night.

——-

They’re various heavenly delights,

But only so —

Much money in our pockets. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Lunes – “The Raven’s Kaw” #poetry #saturdaymix #photochallenge


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the prompt on flashbacks. And also thanks to NENEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menageriefor hosting this week’s Photo Challenge. 

——-

Credit: Laura Makabesku

——-

Such blackness here, wild fears, 

Cannot be helped;

Once I paused, and saw —

——-

His Raven eyes spellbinding me.

Tapping the window, 

Glass shattering, I’m breathless

——-

Bedroom door locked, all asleep —

But for I, 

Raven kaws, advances towards me.

—–

I’m prey, what he desires, 

Shapeshifting bird becomes —

Enchanting man, tapping tappered fingers. 

—–

“Stop playing games and come away,” 

But in my —

Dreams of week’s before I —

——

Dreamt the Raven ripped out —

My throat raw; 

I became his dark companion.

—–

Life was grand but I —

Lost myself, 

In him; was loved but —

——

Destined for a fate I —

Scarce imagined with —

No place of my own. 

—-

When his world became too —

Much, I required —

Thinking space, some breathing room. 

——-

So when the Raven man, 

Of my dreams, 

Arrived — I knew him well. 

—-

And while he stared with —

Fascination at my, 

Coffee eyes purple-bruised, I —

——

Begged, if he was going —

To love me; 

I required a quiet space. 

—–

I couldn’t be his mistress, 

His everything without —

“A room of [my] own.” *

—–

Without, I couldn’t function well, 

And soar with –

Him at night; unless he —

——-

Promised to stay outside my —

Head, my. mind, 

And leave my thoughts alone.  

——-

We both needed some privacy. 

So with shiny, 

Wings bold we together flew. 

——

Before our flight, he gifted —

Mint-sapphire ring,

Binding us both in our —

—–

Promises — me that I had, 

Quiet space; he —

That I was his companion;

——-

His forever mate; loved well —

Our life together,

Shapeshifters seek dawn — Ravens night. 

——–

*Virginia Woolf – A Room of Her Own 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Books, Bop - 6 lines, refrain, 8 lines, refrain, 6 lines, refrain, dVerse, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, History, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – Bop – “Another Wonderland” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this prompt. For the prompt I have chosen the theme “a trip behind the looking glass,” the male Z name “Zenith,” the female Z Name “Zephira,” the instrument of a “mandolin,” the scent of “vanilla,” and the verb “surrender.”  Also, I’m combining the Prompt with Grace from Poetic’s Pub #dVerse on boarders

———

Credit: Diogo Costta

——–

Mirror divides, boarders in this place from next,

She’s a second Alice, in blue, much perplexed. 

Her name, Zephira, born in distant lands. 

Fingers graze looking glass, ripples expand, 

Beyond here she knows lies Wonderland where —

She’ll meet talking creatures, rabbits, hares. 

Through the looking glass, Zephira finds new life. 

She’s read of Alice’s journey; though glass,

So she enters, vanilla an aroma that lasts; 

Invades her lungs as she breathes it in, 

This new reality, chance to explore freedom. 

Not to be forced to surrender to life’s —

Hypocrisy, marriage games played with spite. 

Alliance (loveless) to wealthy prospects, 

Zephira forgets, enticed with perspective. 

Through the looking glass, Zephira finds new life. 

Notes of the mandolin strummed lead her bare feet, 

To places wondrous where flowers her greet.  

Rising high, to top of mountain peeks, finds, 

Zenith, who’ll not control her, so she shines. 

Zephira surrenders to him, her choice glad, 

Holding hands in boarders of Wonderland. 

Through the looking glass, Zephira finds new life.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  


Animals/Pets, Children/YA/Family, Current Events, dVerse, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Travel, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Prompt -Free Verse – “Today’s Your Day” #poetry #dVerse #taleweavers


Thanks to Lorraine of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weavers #131 on the theme of “making it your day.” I’m combining this prompt with Lillian of Poetic’s Pub #dVerse prompt of “seeking some shade.” 


Hammock Summer Day Katya Austin
Credit: Katya Austin via UnSplash

Today’s your day,

Go outside, love it,

Take in the sun’s —

Pure golden rays.

Graze through,

Fresh markets,

Ripe fruit,

Crisp vegetables.

Today’s your day,

Make something of it.

Inhale,

Fresh air;

Grass blades,

From mowed lawns.

The scent of,

Salty ocean breeze;

Scent of sand,

Sunscreen lotion.

Aroma of forest,

Rot, decay,

Contrast with bloom,

Flourishment.

Today’s your day,

Laugh, love,

Profoundly.

Take photos,

Future memories.

Hold your honey,

Close.

Kiss your,

Children’s sticky cheeks.

Run, play —

With them,

Until you’ve exhausted them.

Chase your dog,

Doing zoomies.

Today’s your day,

Spend it, however,

You please.

Sit under shade,

Of oldest tree,

On soft blankets.

Read an —

Immersing book.

Drink sangria,

Secretly.

Snack on chocolate,

On fleshy pink,

Watermelon.

Today’s your day,

Live it vivaciously,

For there’ll  never,

Be another day,

Same as this —

One’s been.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, Books, Flash Fiction, History, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Horsemen’s Head #flashfiction #amwriting #SleepyHollow


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——–

Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

——–

Ichabode Crane was observing the dim forest when he noticed the bald head buried beneath the tree of death. Each morning it was Ichabode’s job to discover what the headless horseman had left behind from his nights decapitating helpless citizens.  

Today he found two headless corpses half-buried. He shivered thinking of the literal trail of blood that often followed the horseman. 

Though Ichabod was a medical doctor, he’d never found any heads attached to the bodies the horseman discarded. His heart pounded and he began to sweat as he clawed the head from the ground with his fingers. 

The hair felt dirty and greasy. The waxen skin was warm and he was sure the head had soulless eyes beneath its lids. While he stared, Ichabod’s hands shook. The blood running from the head’s eyes, suddenly, caught his attention as they began to open of their own accord. 

Coal eyes with pupils as red as poppies, alerted Ichabod this head belonged to the horseman. Ichabod drank from his trusty flask, whiskey and opium to numb him. 

But perhaps he drank too much. When he awoke, the head lay on his lap and Ichabod rested against the horrid tree. The moon exposed him and his opium veil faded. He felt too alert. The head’s mouth fell open revealing carnivorous teeth. 

Soon, the thundering footsteps of the black horse and the armed body of the headless horseman could be heard. He screeched as the horseman took one slice at his neck, but then, Ichabod offered the horseman the head. 

The horseman dropped his sword and went to his knees on the ground. He took the head in his gnarled hands and placed it on his neck. The horseman growled, a sound of rage in a demonic tongue. 

He gazed at Ichabod, “Run, go now. I will spare you for returning my head. Everyone else in Sleepy Hollow will join me in death.” 

Ichabod had never considered himself a coward but he ran anyways, never peering behind him as screams filled the night. 

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

Animals/Pets, Fiction, Interviews, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Writing

‘Rewind Interview’ with Writer, Blogger, & Poet Ryan Stone #amwriting #interview #nonfiction #poetry


Welcome to another ‘Rewind Interview =” in my now weekly interview series. Ryan is a talented Australian poet, extremely amazing, so I’m excited to reshare his interview with you both on my own blog and now on the Go Dog Go Cafe. The Cafe is a writer’s hangout and you can even submit your work there for publication. Here is the link to do that here: Go Dog Go Cage Contact Page.

Originally, I was doing this as a bi-weekly feature, only on my own blog. So in order to do this as a weekly feature on both my blog and on the Cafe, I’m going to be sharing some ‘Rewind interviews” as I think these writers are equally due recognition on both sites. Just to mention, since this is a ‘Rewind Interview’ some of the info might not be current.

Today, I’m excited and pleased to share with you the talented writer, poet, and blogger Ryan Stone of ‘Days of Stone’. Please visit the link provided to read more about Ryan and read his superb poetry.


Ryan Stone Image
Ryan Stone

1. Please Tell Us About Yourself? 

The blood of the Irish runs deep in my veins but I’m an Australian born and bred. I was raised in a ‘man’s land’ of karate, fast motorbikesheavy metal guitars, and football with Aussie rules.

My love of reading and writing was not readily accepted. Instead, I was forced to indulge my interests under my bed covers by torchlight. But the poets Seamus Heaney, Kenneth SlessorWalt Whitman, and Maya Angelou  — all have a way of asserting themselves in my writing.

Although I have no real love of uniforms, I’ve worn a few in my life so far: the combat fatigues of a soldier in the field and driving a battle tank; the torn black denim of a metal guitarist; and the turnout gear of a firefighter. I’ve been a rank-and-file cop, a detective, and a member of a plainclothes special duties team. When all the uniforms are stripped off, I like to think it is the writer who remains.

I have no formal credentials, only an observer’s eye and an insatiable appetite for books. I’m rough around the edges, but the right turn of phrase will stop me dead in my tracks every time. I love MetallicaTed Kooser, and with equal passion, my closest friend in the world, my German Shepherd (don’t tell my wife).


 “When all the uniforms are stripped off, I like to think it is the writer who remains . . . the right turn of a phrase will stop me dead in my tracks every time.” – Ryan Stone 


 2.  When Did You Begin Writing and Blogging?

The first time I considered my writing to be writing, was towards the end of high school. I was blessed with an incredibly passionate English teacher who managed to channel a teenage boy’s angst and anger into something less destructive. When one of my poems earned me a kiss from a pretty girl I had a crush on, I knew writing was something I’d stick with.

I’ve never been much of a social media fan. But I reached a point where I became sick of waiting several months for editors to respond to my poetry submissions; I turned instead to WordPress. Along with all the great writing and posts, I’m able to read from other writers.

However, I’ve developed a wonderful, supportive group of friends, and readers, who offer feedback and advice in a much shorter time frame than editors. While I still submit to poetry journals, my year of blogging has given me a huge amount of enjoyment and satisfaction.


 3. What Does Poetry Mean To You? Why Do You Write?

To borrow from my favorite quote by Anton Chekhov: Poetry isn’t being told the moon is shining – for me, it is being shown the glint of light on broken glass.

I love the way a poem can capture more than a photograph, can carry an image or emotion over time and space, and let me experience someone else’s worldview for a moment. I also like the way reading one of my own poems years after it was written can transport me back to a previous ‘headspace,’ for a moment.


” . . .Poetry isn’t being told the moon is shining – for me, it is being shown the glint of light on broken glass.” – Ryan Stone (borrowing from Anton Chekhov)


4. Where Do You Find Your Inspiration and Motivation To Write?

Nearly all of my poetry begins while I’m running with my dog through the rain forest beside my house. Usually, a thought, a memory, or an observation takes root and nags at me until I jot it down. Sometimes, an unusual word or phrase will catch me the same way.

My dog has developed his very own here we go again’ face which he pulls each time I pause during a run so I can tap out a note or two on my phone.


 5. Do You Find There Is a Time of Day You Most Like To Write?

Predominantly, I write at night, when my boys are asleep, and the house is quiet. I am frequently awake into the small hours of the morning and find my 2:00 am mind is quite adept at slipping out of the shackles my daytime mind imposes. During these hours, I can most effectively explore and develop the notes I jot down during the day.


Writing Night Ryan Stone
Credit: Andrew Neel via UnSplash 

” I am frequently awake in the small hours of the morning and find my 2:00 am mind is quite adept at slipping out of the shackles my daytime mind imposes.” – Ryan  Stone


6. What Are Your Most Current Writing Projects? 

I have two fantasy novels I’m working on at present. One is about a princess who becomes a pirate queen after her parents are murdered, the other is about an orphan boy who becomes a magician and later, a king.

Both novels began as short stories which expanded and grew during a couple of National Novel Writing Months (NaNoWriMo).  As well, both novels are over hundred-thousand words and in need of serious revision. As with everything, time is a killer.

Poetry wise, I’m writing a chapbook with one of my closest internet mates (Ajay) who lives in India. It is loosely based on flowers and cultural differences. I’m currently editing a collection of my Senryu (5-7-5) poems, with the intention of self-publishing a small e-book of one-hundred Senryu poems, in the next few months, unless a publisher comes along sooner.


 7. Have You Published Any Writing or Are You Planning To Publish Works Of Writing In The Future?

I’m fortunate enough to have had many poems published in a number of online journalsprint anthologies, and poetry magazines. I never thought anyone other than my mum would enjoy my writing and rarely submitted my writing anywhere until recently.

A few years ago, I wrote a poem called “Unburied Hatchet,” which I thought had a chance of being published, so I submitted it to a couple of places and was rejected each time. On a whim, I sent it into the monthly competition in Writers’ Forum Magazine (a magazine in the UK to which I subscribe).

I was blown away when my poem won first prize and £100 (quite a lot of money with the Australian exchange rate being what it is). That first win gave my confidence a much-needed boost and I’ve been submitting ever since.


“I wrote a poem called “Unburied Hatchet” . . .I sent it into the monthly competition in Writers’ Forum Magazine . . .and was blown away when it won first prize and £100.” – Ryan Stone


8. Can You Briefly Describe The Process You Went Through To Publish or Are Going Through To Have Your Writing Published?

All my publishing to date has been by submission, so I’ll talk about publishing by submission. Whether it’s a print journal, online review, magazine, blog, or something else, the rules are always the same:

  • Read the publication first, to gain an idea of what style of writing they publish. While it doesn’t hurt to offer something fresh, I usually have a fair idea of an editor’s likes and dislikes before I submit.
  •  Read and re-read the submission guidelines before you hit sendAn improperly worded subject line can be enough for an editor to discount the submission without even reading the poem. Some publications request everything in the body of an email, others prefer attachments. Decent editors are inundated with submissions which meet their specific requirements and most, won’t waste their time with substandard submissions.
  • Take rejections gracefully. Analyze any critiques subjectively and apply critiques if you think they are warranted. BUT DON’T GIVE UP – submit, submit, submit. There are a million homes for poems out there and because a poem isn’t right for one editor or magazine certainly doesn’t mean it won’t be a prize winner for another editor or magazine. While I’m realistic about my own writing, I generally look at rejections as a case of a bad fitnot a bad poem.

 


 

 9. What Is Your Writing Process Like?

Almost exclusively, my writing begins as a note or two on my iPhone (often while I’m running) and later develops on my iPad. My writing environment is incredibly vital to me and the Mac/iPad writing program — Ulysses — puts me in an excellent creative ‘headspace.’ I tend to write the first draft quickly once idea forms and then I’ll put it aside for a week or two, before returning and revising a poem over and over and over…

I am incredibly fortunate to have found a brilliant first reader. She’s an amazingly talented poet in her own right as well as possessing editing skills second to none. For some reason, I’ve yet to understand, she seems to enjoy my writing and conversation and has nurtured and developed my poetry to no end. My first reader’s input is a huge part of my process in developing a poem from initial idea to finished piece.


“I tend to write a first draft quickly once an idea forms and then I’ll put it aside for a week or two, before returning and revising a poem over and over and over . . .” – Ryan Stone


10. Do You Prefer Certain areas of Writing or Reading Styles or Genres?

When I’m reading a novel, it is usually fantasy and almost always a seriesStephen King’s Dark Tower collection is a favorite, as are Game of ThronesMagicianThe BelgariadLord of the Rings, and Bernard Cornwell’s Arthurian books.

I also play a great deal of electric guitar which draws me to music biographies as well, anything rock or metal is fair game. Additionally, I love short story collections: Italo Calvino takes first prize there, and I read as much modern poetry as I can get my hands on.

Originally, my love of poetry was nurtured by Maya AngelouKenneth SlessorJim Morrison (The Doors), and Jewel Kilcher. When I first discovered Ted Kooser a few years ago, my own poetry made a huge leap.

Kooser’s book, The Poetry Home Repair Manual, was full of ‘Aha!’ moments for me. Most recently, I’ve lost myself in the brilliant Buddy Wakefield and Richard Hugo’s: The Triggering Town.


 11. Do You Have Any Helpful Advice For Other Writers?
 

I’m not really big on dishing out advice, as everyone writes uniquely. What works for one person, won’t always help another person; but I can certainly share what works for me.

  • The important thing is to write, write, write and keep writing. It doesn’t have to be good. I have loads of writing which will probably never see the light of day; however, once the first jumble is out of my head, the writing that follows is much better.
  •  I don’t edit my first draft as I write. I write it all down and worry about cleaning it up later. If I’m only editing a word or two, then I’ll delete and replace. If I’m editing a whole line or large section, I cut and paste in a new version – v1, v2, v3, (etc .) and keep each version in the same document. I find it’s much easier to revise without the fear of losing words or ideas I may want to later reinstate.
  •  Once I’m happy with a version of my work, I put it aside for a few days and return to it later with ‘fresh eyes.’ I find it much easier to spot weak pointssticky spotsdoubled up words, bad rhythm, (etc.) when I’m reading it fresh.
  • The poem is more important than the truth. When I’m writing a poem based on an actual event, I find it easy to place value on a thing because its memory is significant to me. Often, I don’t want to let the thing go from the poem. This can become a weak point as the particular thing doesn’t make the poem better and doesn’t hold the same value for the reader. Once I let the poem dictate what to keep and what to cut, rather than trying to stay one-hundred-percent true to my memory, my poetry comes together far tighter.

“Once I let the poem dictate what to keep and what to cut, rather than trying to stay one-hundred-percent true to my memory, my poetry comes together far tighter.” – Ryan Stone


12. Is There Anything Else You Would Like The Share With Us Which You Think Is Pertinent To Writing or Yourself?

An honest first reader who will tell me what works and what sucks without worrying about my feelings is worth her weight in gold.


 13. Can You Please Share With Us Few Links Of Your Favourite or Most Loved Pieces?  
*****
“Unburied Hatchet”
by
Ryan Stone
*****
Axe
Credit Markus Spiske via UnSplash
*****

Until I saw those wasted hands,

brittle as chalk, I hadn’t thought

how fast the years make ghosts.

*****

I heard them once called brawler’s paws.

For me, they were always more:

cobras, poised to strike.

*****

But his brawling days are gone now;

I could kill him with a pillow,

if I cared enough to try.

*****

Thin sheets press tightly to a bed

more empty than full, his body broken

like the promises of childhood.

*****

Haunted eyes betray last thoughts

of a dim path, spiraling down.

He hopes to make amends.

*****

“Forgiven?” he croaks,

barely there, as always,

and I’m wishing that I wasn’t.

*****

With the last rays of day as witness,

I turn my back with purpose

and hear the silence roar.

*****

In a late-night bar, I catch my reflection

swimming in a glass of bourbon;

but I’m staring at a ghost.

*****

First published in Writers’ Forum Magazine issue 163, April 2015 – first place

 


Please Find More Links to Ryan’s Writing Below:


Thank you so much to Ryan Stone for doing an interview for me. I appreciate his time answering the interview questions a great deal. I would love to interview you too. Please let me know if you’re interested in sharing yourself and your writing on my blog. You can reach me on my Contact Page.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – Free Verse – “Lady Hawk” #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to Scribblers Dip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Sunday Prompt. P.S, for the purposes of this poem a falcon has cleverly transformed herself into a hawk. 

———

Credit: Scribblers Dip – Collage, Quote – Oscar Wilde

———

Lady hawk, 

Brilliant feathers flocked. 

Climbing unfathomable —

Heights. 

Swoops down low, 

Prey cannot run. 

Has no safe place. 

Cannot see —

In pitch blackness, 

Stars guiding, 

Ignoring for —

Threats from above; 

Cause anxiety, 

To triple. 

The solace —

Of illusions, 

Never enough. 

Lady hawk, 

And her sins; 

Indelible, 

Cannot be erased. 

We yearn for, 

We think we’ve forgotten, 

Fondness for crimes. 

Evil inside us, 

A lure; 

Turning Rights, 

To bitter Wrongs. 

Though we think, 

All people —

Have innate goodness;

Rather, I say —

Innately we —

Forever choose,

Crimes, 

‘Neath delicious —

Sinful starry nights. 

It’s only those, 

Who pray 

For alteration, 

We choose to do, 

Well for others —

Where goodness, 

Can be found. 

Not only self-serving, 

Serving others, 

Above all else, 

Not afraid, 

To aid, 

Though we’ve, 

Forever been, 

Put out, 

Into the night, 

Mice running, 

From Lady Hawk, 

For goodnesses’ —

Freely done. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.