Sunday Photo Fiction: Der deutsche Holzschnitzer (The German Woodcarver) #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting this week’s SPF.


Credit: © C.E. Ayer


Jacobus was a talented Holtzschnitzer (woodcarver) as his Papa and Opa had been before him. He gazed at the fine ritter (knight) he had geschnitzt (carved) on the remaining panel of set of doors in the St. Mary Magdalene’s Kathedralen (cathedral). He was greatly pleased by his relief die Schnitzereit (carvings) and the subject matter. His Opa would have been proud, he had been the most exceptional Holtzschnitzer of his time.

When Jacobus was four, his Papa taught him everything he knew then, sent him around Europe to train under Meister der Holzschnitzerei (woodcarving masters). At the prime of life, Jacobus was in Paris working on Holzschnitzereien (woodcarvings) for the king of France, schnitzen (carving) reliefs and figures for a generous wage.

Jacobus was even more talented than his Opa had been and enjoyed that the subject matter in many French Kathedralen weren’t so limited due to the Renaissance influence in art. His next project was a die Schnitzereit of Mary Magdalene. Not a relief but a carefully schnitzen (carved) contrapposto* figure with a rounded body, full breasts, and hips.

These were the Holzschnitzereien found in Italian churches and not the old Gothic churches of his homeland in Deutschland. Jacobus grinned as plans for the Mary Magdalene took shape. He grabbed etwas Pergament (some parchment) off a table nearby and began to sketch.


*Contrappasto – “Is an Italian term that means counterpoise. It is used in the visual arts to describe a human figure standing with most of its weight on one foot so that its shoulders and arms twist off-axis from the hips and legs (Wikipedia.com).”


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: “Da Truth” #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.


Credit: @any1mark66


“Why do ya drive out here all da time, Jaron?”

“Ta clear me head. Especially after it rains, I love de scent of de damp earth and when dat rainbow appears I feel rapt. The storms out here are terrible. But der is truly a calm after da storm when a rainbow ‘appens.”

Dave scratched his beard. “I always wondered why such a lovely event occurred. Da scientific expla’tion of refracted light or someden’ like dat, never feels to me like I’m gettin’ da full deal.”

Jaron laughed. “You neva heard da story of Noah, mister well-read.”

“Yeah, a long time ago. Da rainbow was a promise ta never destroy da earth again by flood. But I always thought, there are worse ways ta go dan by drowning.” Dave shook his head and sighed.

“What were ya thinkin’? Fire, volcanoes, earth quakes or worse?”

Dave shrugged. “I prefer nat ta think about it. Besides we’re nat talking about a rainbow anymore jus’ da end of ta earth. Revelations, I think.”

Jaron pulled out a cool six pack from the trunk of his car. He tossed a can to Dave. “I think right now I jast prefer ta look at dat rainbow and focus on hope. Whatever comes will come but better dat I don’t know about it or dat I’m already dead.”

“Dat’s da truth there, Jaron.”


©Mandbelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales/ Saturday Mix: Pricelessly Worthless #3LineTales #SaturdayMix #flashfiction #amwriting


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. Thanks to Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix’s double take prompt using the words presence – the state of being present/ presentsgifts and holy – with religious significance/holey – perforated, with holes/ and wholly – fully, completely.


Credit: Emily Mortar via Unsplash


The variegated violet sky was an odd site in winter as rain was dangerous this time of year, an ominous icey presence; Jane turned the ring her boyfriend Finn had given her as a Christmas present and her engagement ring. His holy and reverent attitude towards his Great-Grandmother’s wedding ring was strange, Jane thought, as she gazed at the large gleaming diamond and the holey pinpoints around the central diamond filled with tiny white diamonds too. She turned back to the window, staring at the sky outside and recalled telling Finn that all she wanted was a small purple diamond; Jane did not desire this heavy weight of history and duty that hurt her finger; it made the love she once wholly felt for Finn feel cheap and worthless — her preferences did not matter to him, she realized they never would.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: A Fading Welcome #3LineTales #fiction #amwriting


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


Credit: Bogdan Dada via Unsplash


I love turquoise and I wonder where these vivid doors lead to and if inside the home the family’s living space is as vibrant and flamboyant as their doors; but then, I also see the lock across the door and it puzzles me. I wonder why someone whose doorway had such architectural character, would make such an effort to keep people out. Perhaps, as the paint peeling off the doors’ bottom, the family’s cheer and welcome has peeled away to worn fatigue and age.


©Mandibelle16 (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Published Poem: Free Verse – Spillwords.com – “Giants of Hypocrisy” #spillwords #poetry #history #NewColossus #amwriting


So blessed to have another poem on http://www.spillwords.com. This poem is based off the poem “New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus and is a commentary on current immigration policies in the U.S., now, and in the past, but particularly, in the late 19th century where many Europeans immigrated to the U.S. to escape poverty, persecution, and starvation. Unfortunately, the U.S. was not much better than where they came from. But it was better enough that they could survive even in neighborhoods such as the brutal and famous 5 ‘Points District’ in New York City.

The poem was published in late November and I missed it. But here it is now for your thoughts and enjoyment. It’s called “Giants of Hypocrisy.”


Credit: SpillWords.com


©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

#NovemberNotes Day 14/ Saturday Mix: Poem – “Don’t Speak” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix


November Notes Day 14 has a song Prompt Calle “Don’t Speak” by No Doubt. It’s one of my favorites from when I was twelve or thirteen years old and is one song that launched No Doubt and Gwen Stefanie into Star-dome. I’m combining with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix Prompt on not using certain words including, meet, look, any, draw, fly. The idea is to find other words that mean the same thing.

Oh and P.S. NovemberNotes well continue for me into December until I’m finished all 30 days of songs.


Credits: Cristian Newman via Unsplash


Don’t Speak” by No Doubt


You and me used to be, we were always,

But it appears as though we’re parting ways,

Yet if it’s real, I don’t want to know,

You’ll only try to soften every blow.

I’ve lost my best friend, he fell in love with —

Her; he forgot about me, no goodbye kiss.

Don’t speak, I don’t need reasons they all hurt.

I don’t need your explaining, don’t speak,

Keep locked tight your sad excuses so weak.

Words of lies repeated, don’t speak, don’t speak!

You and I, we’re dying in the bleakness,

As your words are altogether frightening,

My blackened sky flares up with white lightening.

So telling of my anger, dark, loathsome,

It seems as though I’m actually letting go.

Don’t speak, I don’t need reasons, they all hurt.

Don’t tell me because it stings as rain,

Becoming thin needles, intense sharp pain.

Don’t speak, don’t speak, I don’t need your reasons,

Stop trying to talk for merely pleasing.

I believe we had our time now are connection ends,

Your soaring, sketching delusions to spend.

Don’t speak, I don’t need reasons, they all hurt.


© Mandibelle16 (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#NovemberNotes Day 12/Saturday Mix: Poem – Rondeau – “We Don’t Stand A Chance” #amwriting #poetry


November Notes Day 12 Prompt song is by Sam Smith and called “To Good At Goodbyes.” For this Prompt combo I will combine the song Prompt with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix Prompt on homophones. For this week the homophones include bolder – more courageous and boulderlarge rock; and two of, flew – past tense of fly, flu – short for influenza, and flue – chimney pipe.

———

Credit: Cristian Newman via UnSplash

———-

Too Good At Goodbyes” by Sam Smith

——

I’m never gonna let you near my heart,

I’ll let you subsist in-between the bars;

Where we’re both near, yet feeling the flu, starved.

Not letting you close, though you mean the most,

I’m brokenness, you’ll never get closer.

Opening up is like chocking on barbs.

I’m not someone bolder, willing to fall hard,

Your here, but I see clear, we’re the departed.

Not letting you close, though you mean the most,

Chained to a boulder we don’t stand a chance.

A simple sincere truth, I’m good at parting,

Every time I hurt you, you hurt me too; dark —

Eyes forgetting, when we weren’t sickly ghosts,

Not seeing, together we flew the most.

Not letting you close, my tears fall imparting,

Chained to a boulder we don’t stand a chance.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#NovemberNotes Day 9/Saturday Mix: Poem – Shadorma – “Be a Riser” #amwriting #poetry #hope #saturdaymix


For November Notes the Day 9 song is called ” 1-800 – 273 – 8255″ Logic featuring Alessia Cara and Khalid. I reversed the songs for Day 8 and Day 9 so Day 9’s actual song was completed yesterday. As per usual combining prompts with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Saturday Mix Prompt of a shadorma form poem about emotion.

——-

Credit: Ricardo Gomez Angel via Unsplash

——

“1-800 – 273 – 8255” by Logic featuring Alessia Cara and Khalid

—–

“The Shadorma is a Spanish poetic form made up of a stanza of six lines

(sestet)  with no set rhyme scheme.

It is a syllabic poem with a meter of 3/5/3/3/7/5.

It can have many stanzas, as long as each follows the meter” (Popular Poetry Forms).

——-

You’re on the —

Low of life that’s fine,

Just take time,

Realize —

No one can see the future,

Sit down, stay awhile.

—-

Take your time,

Value the time you have,

So your low,

Many more —

Are deeper in dirt than you,

So, rise another day.

——

If you’re here,

You matter a lot,

Building life —

Takes much time,

Nothing is perfect, it hurts,

Rise to the challenge.

—-

You don’t want —

To be alive but —

You don’t know,

What it is

Truly breathing free, inhaling —

Life is tough, rise up.

——

Find your help —

Seek out others to —

Stop the thoughts;

Those anxious,

Murmurs insecure and bleak,

Rise you are not weak.

—–

Emotion’s bleed,

Guy or girl life hurts.

Healing is —

A process.

Don’t quit, don’t give in; fight on —

Sun always rises.

——

Your life is —

Precious but, —

You hear what you feel;

Alone with —

No hope or —

Reason to survive, find faith —

God cares, she cares, rise.

—–

You matter,

You’ll see put down your —

Weapon, don’t inflict —

Dying wounds.

Breath, seek help,

There are phones beyond no home,

Let her in and rise.

——

She wants you —

To feel the light’s glare,

Sunshine with,

Delightful —

Rays of hope; fight on, don’t end —

Your life, rise up, swim.

—–

You don’t want —

To try anymore,

But there’s her,

Heart beating —

Next to yours, so hope, believe,

Rise for tomorrow’s.

—–

Tomorrow,

Never dies, the —

Words are true.

Life is yours,

Your legs tremble so walk on,

Rise, you’re valuable.

—–

Innately you;

Irreplaceable.

If you left,

Her heart would —

Shatter; others too would wonder,

Why such promise fell.

—-

Let them in,

They can’t see inside,

Thoughts rolling,

So fast, get —

Their attention, ask ’til —

Taking their hands you rise.

—-

You want life,

You choose it crying,

Not easy —

To admit,

You want to be alive, not dead,

Rise up, live well.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#NovemberNotes Day 6/Saturday Mix: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Wildness Imparts” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix


For November 5th, The Prompt song is “Wild Heart” by The Bleachers featuring Sarah Bareilles. Also combining the prompt with Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie double take Prompt. It uses homophones so words that are pronounced the same way but are spelled and mean something different. Here are Sarah’s two sets of homophones:

——–

draftpreliminary version

draughtgust of wind; a depth of water needed to float a ship

findlocate something

finedto have to pay a penalty

——-

Credit: Keyang Zheng

——-

Wild Hearts” – The Bleachers Ft. Sarah Bareilles

——-

Life’s one draft, no perfect words imparted,

Not even the winds strong draught or gale un-fashions,

Beauty in the eye’s fake without passion;

All we need is a path to our wild hearts.

I’m not unique, observing those a part,

The wretched, disabled shown no compassion.

No coins, bills, but offensive reactions,

We all need a path back to our wild hearts.

So blaze trails ‘cross sun’s fire and find wildness.

There’s steep fines for our thoughtless mindlessness.

When we stopped talking we neglected,

Cutting off conversing without focus.

It’s why I ask you to find your wild hearts,

We’ll connect face-to-face when talking starts.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

#NovemberNotes Day 2: Poem – Free Verse – “Of Abuse” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


For November Notes Day 2 the song is “New Rules” by Dua Lipa. I’m combining this prompt with Björn from #dVerse Peet’s Pub on defining a monster you fear. 
—-

Credit: Miranda Whiperfurth via Unsplash
—-

Dua Lipa – “New Rules”

—-

I saw him walk, 

Saw him fire randomly. 

Searchimg for specific victims, 

Fear was palpable, hanging heavy —

In the sunlit air, deceptive for the scent of blood. 

Pungent, stinging my lungs, 

As if breathing in a mustard gas. 

No one should ever have to know —

Deaths putrid scent. 

See it pooling, 

From a loved one or friend. 

No one should have to see, 

How medicine cannot always heal; 
By knowledge or by quickness. 

That the scariest monsters are the ones, 
Seemingly kind, normal, 

Even attractive humans. 

Those who cannot function, 

Losing control by illness, 

Or by self-indoctrination. 

Breaking to pieces, 

Flipping their humanity switch. 

Or lost in a terrifying nightmare, 

Blurring into their edges.

They’ve nothing soft left, 

No heart remaining, 

In cold blood or insanity. 

He may have been a gun man, 

Or perhaps, he was a manipulator? 

A lesser monster whose pain, 

Transformed into rage. 

A monster stealing peace of mind, 

Security and safety. 

Through vile methods. 

He’s the twenty phone calls your ignoring, 

Sleeping with him anyways, 
Just so he’ll go away. 

Because you don’t feel anything, 

Cringing at his touch. 

Under him it’s all to clear,

Your never over him; 

Until you don’t let him return ever. 

But he enjoys the tatters,

While regret knots in your stomach, 

Grows agonizing when he —

Doesn’t hear all your “No’s” and “Stops.”

But you stay with him, 

You let him believe, 

Because has the power to harm, 

A craziness in his eyes. 

Different bullets than the gunmen, 
Bullets just the same. 

Ban the ballots, the gunpowder, 

Save those trapped, 

By gun toting diehards,

And fools who take advantage —

Wielding obsession and abuse. 

—-


—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.