Tale Weavers: Fiction – The Eyes of What Now? #taleweavers #amwriting #fiction #IdesofMarch 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weavers. The theme is the a tale on the lighter side of things.

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Credit: Gary Larson

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Steve walked into English 311 wearing a toga and a gold spray-painted crown of leaves.

Dr. Lawerence, their English Professor, laughed at the front of the room along with some of the other students.

“Why is what Steve wearing funny?” Ambrose asked Jen, “Its not like this is some party.”

“I think it might have something to do with Julius Caesar. What about you?” Jen said dryly.

“The play we’re studying?” Ambrose’s asked. His friend, sitting behind him tittered. “Shut up, Dan,” he said.

Dan kept laughing, “How can you be reading Julius Caesar in English 311 and not understand why Steve is wearing that getup?”

Dr. Lawerence overheard his student’s conversation. He chuckled, ” ‘Beware the Ides of March,’ Ambrose. Remember what I said in Monday’s class?”

Ambrose shook his head, “Eyes of what now?”

The student’s around Ambrose and their professor laughed. Jen sighed. ” Caesar was assassinated on the ‘Ides of March.’ The seer in the play told him to ‘beware’ of it, but he was still stabbed and killed.”

“I thought Brutus murdered Caesar? Now you’re saying a seer did?”

Dr. Lawerence peered at Ambrose concerned, “Are you sure you want to major in English Literature, Ambrose?”

He looked up and shrugged. The professor sighed and returned to the front of the room. There was always one in every class.

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©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: A Force of Life #flashfiction #amwriting #nature


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Tim Livingston of TheForesterArtist

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It’s the lushest rainforest I’ve ever seen. If one could say Mother Nature had a life force it would be here, hidden within this vibrant foliage. For me green is the color of life and I think of the exotic creatures found here and I understand why environmentalists are vehemently protecting a forest full of wild animals and their habitats.

To imagine this brilliant life force gone would be painful. There is an ache in my heart picturing the dustlands of a destroyed forest, where nothing can regrow because of how horibly the soil has eroded, stripped of trees. Seeing this century old car buried randomly makes me curious of how the car ended up here; I imagine it’s a fabulous tale. But there’s no one here to tell that story, only me, and miles of greenery. Here in the womb of Mother Nature, one could disappear.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Space Oddities #amwriting #flashfiction #music 


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: A Mixed Bag
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“Ground control to Major Tom.” 

“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. 

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“Space Oddity” – David Bowie

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Published: Poem – Free Verse – SpillWords – “Silver and Gold” #amwriting #poetry #spillwords #audio


Thanks to http://www.spillwords.com for publishing this poem today. This one I had published with an audio recording. It’s called: Silver and Gold.

Credit: Brad Kunkle

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Poem/Song: “You First” #music #amwriting #lyrics #poetry 


Something a little different for these words/lyrics. I’m no singer but my voice isn’t horrible.

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Credit: http://www.verywell.com – “Do You Dare to Take Off Your Mask . . .”

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Under her mask, she’ll hide behind it,

You’ll never hear the truth.

There are legends inside her,

But the truth can be a terrible thing.

Let her hide behind her mask in her makeup,

Let her be free.

*****

Because we all hide behind faces that aren’t really ours,

And oh baby, you’ll see, you’ll see

That the person who’s wearing a mask isn’t just her,

It’s you and me too.

Under her mask, she’ll hide behind it,

Reveal yourself first, you first.

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Under your mask, you’ll hide behind it,

She’ll never see the truth.

You have treasure buried deep down,

In your keep, it’s a difficult truth.

She’ll let you hide behind your mask unshaven,

She’ll let you be free.

*****

Because we all hide behind faces that aren’t really ours,

And oh baby you’ll see, you’ll see.

That the person who’s wearing a mask isn’t just you,

It’s everyone too.

Under your mask, you’ll hide behind it,

Reveal yourself first, you first.

——

Under their masks they’ll hide behind them,

No one will ever hear the truth.

There are stories locked in everyone,

Maybe there not all scarring ones.

Each person is hiding from starlight,

Let them now see.

*****

Because we all hide behind faces that aren’t really ours,

And oh baby you’ll see, you’ll see,

That the person wearing those masks isn’t just them,

It’s universally.

Under their masks, they’ll hide behind them,

Reveal yourself first, you first.

*****

Because we all hide behind faces that aren’t really ours,

And oh baby you’ll see, you’ll see 

That the person who’s wearing a mask isn’t just her,

It’s you and me too.

Under her mask, she’ll hide behind it,

Reveal yourself first, you first;

Reveal yourself first, you first,

You first.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Finish Off Fridays: Home #amwriting #flashfiction #finishofffridays 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting FOF.

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Credit: Lorraine – MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie
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“Clementine anxiously waited for the 5:40 out of the city, wondering if he would be on board.” It head been two-years since she’d seen Philip. He’d been sent out to fight the Nazis in France. She’d faithfully written to him but Philip hadn’t been able to send many letters back.

After the harrowing footage she’d seen of soldiers fighting on the beaches of Normandy, Clementine wondered if her Philip would be himself; how could he? The train arrived and she continued waiting. 

Seconds later Philip was holding her so tightly she couldn’t breath. He cried into her neck,”I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I had no doubt you would,” Clementine whispered back, stroking Philip’s hair as his tears dried.

It was almost as if he’d never been gone; in each other’s arms, they were both home.

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Phillip Phillips – “Home” 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Beat Feet – Life Of A 1950’s Woman  #amwriting #3LineTales #fiction 


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

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Credit: Clem Onojeghuo via unsplash

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I’m anti frantic today which is a wonderful, that man at the department store was really laying on the apple butter; I almost went ape, I’m a married woman you know. At least the ankle-biters are all in school now and I don’t have to deal with their bash ears, but I need to beat feet so I can meet the ladies at church, we’re having some used clothing sale of clothing in good condition to raise bread for the homeless. Some reporter from the paper is here too writing a book and he took my picture by the Reverand’s truck; I wish he’d beat feet, I’m a busy woman. 

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Please see Fifties Web here, for all definitions of the fifty’s slang terms used (in bold). 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Writing Prompt: Poem – Blank Verse – “Atlantis In Popular Culture” #poetry #amwriting #history #legend 


Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt. First we are to go to Wikipedia and go to the ‘Random Article’ Button, his is our title. Second we are to HERE and find a randomly generated picture. 

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Credit: http://writingexercises.co.uk/random-images.php

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Ring the bells ring them, sound organ pipes too, 

Atlantis sinks to obscurity

Earth trembles, calls with a tune sung, 

Ring the bells; last time you’ll hear them out loud. 

Artistic endeavour, artisan’s craft, 

Carved pipes; hear the organ it booms last. 

Earthquakes, rocks tumble, falling into time. 

A void in the earth barely felt until now. 

Modern humans are obsessed by her,

A lost city never found; for it’s day —

Full of vision, construction, art, thought. 

City that felt it was the greatest, 

The gods thought otherwise; earth swallowed, 

City Atlantis whole, taking everyone. 

Down to earth’s depths, in it’s belly kept, 

Here lies Atlantis hidden, there wasn’t —

Much difference between ‘us’ now and them.

Or hundreds of cities –past, present;

Civilization thousands of years old, 

It isn’t that the the ocean and land, 

Just ended a city; it’s the people

Inside who forget about decency.  

Treating each other terribly and —

No thought for tomorrow, hearts so, 

Cold, stone rigid; they sink themselves down, 

Into the water until they’re nothing

Nothing but a dream, not even memory, 

Just something modern people wonder of, 

Forgetting lessons as Atlantis did. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays Flash Fiction: Poem – Lunes – “Pushing On” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesday Prompts.

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Credit: Stephanie of La Photographie

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Gazing into my pretty face, 

Seeing mere woman —

No different than any other.

——

But if you peered deeper

You’d find a —

Woman greater than ‘classified’ gender. 

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I’m a person deserving equality;

Because I’m feminist

Doesn’t mean I’m against men.

—–

Required for me are but —

Same wages, salary —

For the same position worked. 

—–

Provide me access to healthcare, 

Birth control; doctors —

Of all specialities needed whenever

——

I’m a working woman, educated —

well; the Mom —

Driving her kids to hockey. 

——

Tidying the house and hoping, 

My ‘modern’ husband, 

Helps me because shared chores —

—–

Equal happier relationships –less fighting. 

Don’t talk trash, 

Hurt and abuse; I’m strong. 

—–

But your sexist comments hurt;

Our Grandmother’s mother’s, 

Began fighting for women’s rights. 

—–

Are they rights only in —

Writing? Yet I —

Push their battle on so —

——

One day my daughter doesn’t, 

Have to fight;

Ignored for being a female.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Florette – “My Daisies” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Mike Vore

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Daisy your coat is rough, rusted;

I’d restore your coat true, trust me. 

It used to shine an apple-red.
You’re engine won’t start; words unsaid they’re frustrating. 

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Daisy May you had your days like, 

The woman I named you for, my wife.

But she is gone now, you’ve decayed

Both of you leave me so dismayed; inside I’ve strife

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Daisy, I wonder should I send you —

To the scrap yard, or sell you? 

Should I restore you to glory? 

So those I meet know your story and my wife’s too? 

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Nostalgia overwhelms, memories —

Cloud my mind thinking too plenty —

Of back in the day of youth’s glow

When I had both Daisies, I drove through life, with them. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.