100 Word Wednesdays, Free Verse, Health, History, Interior design, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Sing me a Melody” #amwriting #100WordWednesday #poetry 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday’s on August 16, 2017. Poem for Oneta Hayes of the blog: Sweet Aroma

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Credit: Bikurgurl

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Sing me a melody, 

Write me a song.

Songs of celestial glory. 

Of love that’s deep sweet. 

Save me from the dark, 

Inner demons disguised. 

Write for me, 

Crystal clear notes,

Ones angels simply respire. 

Sing me a melody, 

Calm and serene. 

Of the cereulan blue sky, 

Of hope in eternal life, 

And time past misery. 

Sing notes cascading, 

Sung lentement with —

Unbending trust; 

That those in “[D]arkness

Have seen a Great Light.” 

Sing me a melody, 

Tear drops on cheeks. 

Of joy, deliverance —

Of liberty, and grace. 

Sing harmoniously, 

Or in a caphella. 

With light’s pure —

Luminescent brilliance —

Never snuffing out. 

Sing me a melody, 

As light as air that trills. 

Glimmering with sunbeams, 

Ringing with care for hope. 

Simg of vivacity, 

Surpassing the dark of night. 

Sing me a melody, 

Of healing that restores. 

Sing songs of bravery, 

Of endurance. 

Songs overcoming shadows, 

And landing in the dawn.

Sing me a melody, 

Bring me sweet relief. 

Among beauteous architecture, 

For all those times gone by. 

Sing me a melody;

Surrounded by the skills, 

Of artists and writers 

So profound there work, 

Sings me alive. 

Sing me a melody, 

For all I wish for is peace. 

In sleep to hear, 

Sonorous songs. 

Transcendent, complex, 

Yet, utterly simple as —

Those words that say, 

“Be still.” 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

dVerse, Fiction, Free Verse, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Music Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Where My Demons Hide” #poetry #dVerse #musicchallenge 


For this prompt I’m including MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Friday Music Challenge song “Demons”by Imagine Dragons. Also, I’m writing for Mish’s Poet’s pub #dVerse writing a poem from a musical muse, lines from “Demons” for this piece. 

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Carter Gomez Angel via UnSplash

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Imagine Dragons – “Demons”

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“When you feel my heat/ Look into my eyes / It’s where my demons hide / It’s where my demons hide. / Don’t get too close / It’s dark inside. / It’s where my demons hide / It’s where my demons hide.” – Imagine Dragons 🐉 

——–

Where my demons hide, 

Where my demons hide. 

Reflected in orbs of fire, 

I can’t escape their growl. 

You’ll have to lead my steps, 

Don’t mean to singe your brows. 

My Hellbound heat radiates,  

Demon-man on prowl. 

No escaping, you’ve seen them, 

Here with us, demons all to foul. 

Temperamental, disreputable, 

Repellent, sharp teeth and jowls. 

How do I escape this now? 

Set me free of this prison’s chilling howl, 

Screams in pitch black, 

I’m absorbed by demon’s marrow, 

They’re liars deep inside my eyes.

No more sweet kisses now, 

They’ll eat you alive if you stay. 

My inner demons restless still prowl, 

Their lizard-like skin grates; 

Eyes as red pits burn unsound. 

Horrors of the dim; you’re too close, 

When such desire through me pounds. 

Sins of the flesh, love denied, 

Demons reside, dank cavarns found. 

Don’t get to close, 

Darkness is eternal, unprofound.

Here my demons settle, 

They screech, drink rounds —

Of fireball liquor, Whiskey hot heat. 

So I’ll let you easily down,

Don’t want to hide the truth, 

It’s up to you now. 

We try to breed love sweet, 

But miserly greed endowed, 

My last gift, cinders of the mess we’ve made. 

Didn’t know my fate was found, 

Demons with pandamonious desires. 

Masked beneath brimstone.

Don’t look into my eyes, 

They’re black as tar, don’t get close; 

Red fire ignites, tried to save —

Your light, but in fire it drowned.

Flames so high I dreamed, 

Life would be luminously profound. 

Such a bleak soul you’ve left, 

I’ll never forget, I’m beaten down. 

Couldn’t even save your light 

You peered into my eyes — drowned.

Unless you show me how, 

I can’t escape this now. 

Where my demons hide, 

Where my demons hide. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, History, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: Her Perfect Vocation #100WordWednesday #amwriting #dystopia


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday August 9, 2017.

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Credit: Photo by Jane, Twitter

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 Lacey shook out her golden hair. Deborah eyed her daughter,” We’re here Lacey, this is where you’ll find out your vocation.”

“But I don’t even know what I’ll wear tomorrow. I’m not even sixteen.”

“The judges decide. Since long ago, each consecutive group of them provides citizens with the right jobs.”

” I’ve many interests. Not one.”

“Life isn’t fair, Lacey.” 

Deborah smoothed her skirt down three times.”They don’t know your thoughts. But the rigorous testing you’ve done, your DNA, genetic lineage, your social interactions, and other scientific data guides the Judges.”

“But you said they don’t know my thoughts?” 

“They’re not going to ask for your opinion. They know.”

“That’s the problem, Mom. There’s more than ‘knowing.’ There’s that feeling that tells you your purpose deep down.”

“They Judges don’t consider feelings or emotions. They don’t see people beyond their job skills.” 

Deborah shushed Lacey. Her hands trembled. “Whatever they say, Lacey, that’s your vocation.”

“Outcasts don’t last long, your father’s one and that life’s harsh. They’ll watch out for that ‘rebellious spirit’ in you.”

“I can’t keep my true-self masked. I’ll be miserable.”

“No one’s happy here,” Deborah whispered. 

But Lacey didn’t hear her. Deborah watched her daughter ascend the ancient silver staircase and knew her daughter would be searching for her father soon. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Health, My Thoughts, Nature, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Peddling Back to Life #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to the lovely Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW August 8th, 2017 Edition. 

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Credit: Dorothy

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Mike peddled with little effort yet his face was dripping sweat as a hot candle dripping wax. Each peddling motion on the tandem bike was agony.

“We have to stop, Tommy.”

“Nope, I promised you we’d get you fit.”

“What if I don’t want that? And why hills?”

“Hills are the best for doing intervals which burn fat better.”

“Who cares?”

Tommy frowned. “I care because I’m your brother.  I realize you’ve been depressed, that finding the right medication has caused you significant weight gain.”

“I also know antidepressants make you extra hungry and that eating makes you feel better since Beth’s death.”

Mike halted the tandem bicycle. “Don’t ever talk about her.”

“I will, someone needs to tell you the facts. The Doctor phoned you and I answered your phone, thinking it was important.”

“I was right. The Doctor’s concerned your blood pressure has skyrocketed. He says you’re quite obese and that if you don’t eat well and exercise you’ll get diabetes.”

Mike growled, turning to glare at Tommy behind him. 

Tommy shoved him. “The Doctor told me so I could help you. Beth chose death so your healthy daughter could live. Tira is two and being raised by her grandparents. That isn’t right.”

“I’m in no shape to raise, Tira.”

“That’s sad. Remember your therapist said, in our family session, that most of your problems are set behaviors, that can be altered? Depression isn’t to blame for everything.”

Mike shook his head, disagreeing. 

“I’ll help you, Mike. We’ll take it one day at a time.”

“Todsy’s day one, right?”

Tommy grinned, “Yep, and stop whining. I’m doing most of the peddling, not you.”

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Notable Quotes: August 2017 Part One #amwriting #quotes


Good Morning! Some August quotes. Sorry if some of them are repeats. I’m trying to clear my iPad and usually I delete the ones I use on here, but sometimes I forget. Nevertheless, great quotes anyways! Enjoy! 

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1. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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2. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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3. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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4. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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5. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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6. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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7. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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8. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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9. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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10. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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11. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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12. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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13. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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14. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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15. 

http://www.pinterest.com 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poetry – Rictameter – “Streets A New” #amwritimg #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: J. Hardy Carroll
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Empty, 

Thoughts with empty —

Dreams; never meant to inflict,

Such pain, no anxiety, hurt —

done unintentionally

Not considering, 

Empty. 

——-

Bare streets, 

Abandonment, 

No one comes here, danger —

Lurks in sun’s zenith and night’s chill.

Lost lonely souls wander, 

Hopeless; shifty —

Bare streets. 

——-

Broken, 

Boulevard with —

Dreams in smithereens; pieces —

Of what could’ve been, deserted. 

Littered streets, none tread 

Improvements left, 

Broken.

——

Why fix? 

Somewhere no one —

Ventures? Bring beauty to  —

Dank tenements abandoned? 

Some people still live here, 

Shuffling through, 

Why Fix? 

——-

Broken, 

I can’t hull stones, 

Nor restore past glories, 

I’m no architect with dreams of —

Organic design where the 

Forgotten dwell, blurry —

Eyed and hopeless, 

Broken. 

——

Hope means, 

Skilled developer, 

Notes potential in ruins, 

Will see masked brilliance beneath the —

Treachery; Boulevard —
Where someone sees, 

Hope is. 

——-

Anew, 

I can’t remould, 

Your splintered heart, pristine, 

I can stitch the pieces together, 

So in time, stitches fade,  

Heart heals almost, 

Anew, 

———

©Mamdibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Fiction, History, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Collage Prompt: Cascading Etherees – “The Light Keeps Burning” #amwriting #poetry #stories 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Collage Prompt.  

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Credit: Window- Andrey Bobir: Fruit Center: Kevin Sloan: Woman- Christian Schloe

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I’m a story, my life overarching,

Tale that tells of my unique journey. 

Places I’ve travelled, things I’ve seen,

Until the day comes and these —

Memories imprint, 

Silt, dust, and smoke. 

Characters lost, 

Not even, 

To be, 

Known. 

—–

Gone,

Can’t be! 

Actions done, 

Wild nights, regret;

My authentic talents,

And a muse who knows, 

Histories repeated —

Memories of pen and ink. 

Thoughts hidden, lock and key, they close. 

Masking the truth of such characters, 

Building worlds through words, disconnected. 

——-

Sly as a fox, I’ve learned fruitful ways. 

These days go by, can’t halt the clock’s tick,

Don’t forget time’s ever so short. 

Juices dribbling down small chins,

Organic pears sweet with —

Raspberries too. 

Spiritually, 
Ripe fruit ate, 

Becomes soul —

Food that —

Heals. 

—–

Just, 

As Tales, 

Brilliant and — 

Warm soothe the heart, 

But reality —

Doldrums work to dull minds. 

An anasethic addictive, 

Sickness in body, soul, and heart. 

Too much berries here for birds who —

Wobble discordently drunk, stagnant. 

—-

Become a person who finds windows when, 

All doors are shut, locked up tightly. 

Find your dreams, your goals define them, 

Persevere, strive in —

Life as it happens; too —

Fast for my liking! 

Absorb moments,

Choose to, 

Live. 

——-

No,

Matter,

That we will, 

Be forgotten,

As stories or part,

Of nastolgies devised.  

Obscurity as time —

Moves as the rabbit with his —

Pocket watch; we’re perpetually late; 

Wherever we end; hope it’s paradise.

——

One where we dwell on stories of truth, 

Body’s age, decay; but our gifts stay. 

Forever they are our tasks.

Someday we each face ends.

As Dylan desperate wrote, 

Of the light’s dying, 

Don’t fear for it; light’s

Forever, 

Guiding 

Home.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 



100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: “Heart Break” #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday! 

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Credit: Jennifer Pallian

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Everything had to be perfect. Kayla didn’t want this to be a one time affair. It was 1:00 p.m., and Tye had awoken hearing noises in Kayla’s kitchen. 

He lumbered in, taking a seat at the island where Kayla had prepared a tray with ‘hair of the dog.’

“Morning Tye, you probably have a killer hang over at your age,” Kayla teased.

Tye drank both drinks from the tray. “Feeling much better now. Where’s your brother? Did he crash here too?”

“We, no Tye, it was just us. Christian stayed at Mimi’s last night.”

“He’s a lucky guy. Mimi’s a fine woman.”

Kayla frowned, “What about last night? Aren’t you a ‘lucky guy’ too, Tye?”

“What about it?”

“Does it mean anything to you? You told me you loved me.”

Tye was silent, “From the moment I saw you in that short black dress . . . I don’t remember much. I drank a lot. It can’t mean anything, Kayla, even if I’ve always had a thing for you. You’re Christian’s sister, he’d kill me.”

“Not if you actually loved me. If you felt the way I feel about you.”

“Doesn’t matter –”

“It does matter because I’m twenty eight-years old, a grown woman. If last night meant nothing, just say it. Because I’m damn sure you’re lying when you say you don’t remember.”

Tye rubbed his face his eyes dazed. He lumbered back to the bedroom and began dressing.

He wouldn’t look at her and Kayla confronted him, catching him off guard. She pushed him hard and kept pushing, attempting to get a reaction from Tye when he grabbed both her hands holding her still. 

“I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. You may have not loved me then, but I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since I turned twenty-five. You like me a lot and you know it,” Kayla cried. 

She struggled, but Kye wouldn’t let go of her hands. He pressed his lips to hers, brushing them back and forth before pulling back. “This can’t happen again, Kayla. You know that, I’m engaged.” 

” Lisa doesn’t love you. You don’t owe that harpy anything.”

“I do owe it to her, we’ve been together five years.”

Tyler brushed his thumb against her lips and let go of Kayla. He left her bedroom to put on his dress shoes at the front door. “I wish I could be with you. But Lisa’s pregnant. If I don’t marry her she’ll never let me see my daughter, ever.” 

Kayla blanched. She tried not to burst into a crying jag as she held her throat feeling her breath constrict. She gazed at Tye, “Please tell me I wasn’t just some girl you slept with.” 

“I wasn’t that drunk, Kayla. I lied. Last night meant the world, but that’s why we have to both forget it.”

The door shutting echoed long after Tye left. Tears dripped down her cheeks as Kayla sat on the floor, a ferocious pain eating her alive inside as she wept. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Actor/ Actress, Fiction, Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Writing: Poem – Licentia – ” Plastic Drowns” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to ScribblersDip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this last Sunday’s Writing Prompt quote/collage.

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Credit: ScribblersDip MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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“Stuck in a generation where loyalty is just a tattoo, love is just a quote, and lying is the new truth.” 

——-

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Games insane, thinks she’s Queen, now breath wanes. 

Her long voluminous eyelash extensions sweep, 

Dyed hair weeps silver strands on botoxed cheeks. 

Ingenuine smile teeth veneers and braces;

Blond bombshell Marilyn’s plastic twin races. 

Against the clock to keep her youth, nips tucks —

Child’s facelift, brow lift microbladed must. 

Hearts and flower tattoos, she’s loved a few but, 

Never many, not one recalled past lust. 

Queen Bee, they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 

——-

Her long voluminous eyelash extensions sweep, 

Dyed hair weeps silver strands on botoxed cheeks. 

Today she thinks she’ll dye her hair as red, 

As the hair on princess Ariel’s head. 

Red, red with gown to rival ocean’s surf, 

Sea-green, topaz-mint silk fabric unearthed. 

Some taffeta so dress floats, one-strap to bare, 

More skin, her bodice diamond encrusted layers. 

Lenses to make her eyes seafoam green dots, 

Corset pulled tight, plastic chest pulled up-top. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 
——

Ingenuine smile veneers and braces;

Blond bombshell Marilyn’s plastic twin races. 

Thought of need for actual dental design, 

Never entered mind, pristine teeth inclined. 

No thoughts of cost, credit cards, her wealth, 

All for looks, a beauty drowning herself. 

Procedures, weekly treatments, face, body; 

Hair coiffed, eyebrows plucked, tinted; applauded —

By those like her who in shallowness confound. 

In ankle deep depth succumb and all drown. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane game, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 

——

Against the clock to keep her youth, nips tucks —

Child’s facelift, eyebrows high microbladed must.

Could one drown, sputter, choke on water just —
Because they’re steeped in procedures, a must?

Plastic to fill the cracks where natural beauty, 

Flourished; sweet, beautiful, but not enough, 

Now fakeness hides inner trauma, no trust. 

Grew up in the snake pit of Divas; ‘subtly — 

Enhanced,’ language unknown, tears burn eyes, flood —

Place she can’t be saved, where the cost is blood. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes

——-

Hearts and flower tattoos, she’s loved a few but, 

Never many, any one recalled past lust. 

Her love was herself, no one else mattered, 

Life reveals and such vanity shatters. 

Until she realizes the heart must be built, 

For the body ages becomes as ash, silt. 

She can fake youth or be classically

Lovely, elegant, forever dazzling.

Graceful aging,with minor repairs, 

Youth found in caring, she’ll not drown despaired. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes
——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Bop - 6 lines, refrain, 8 lines, refrain, 6 lines, refrain, dVerse, History, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Poem: Bop – “For A Spark” #poetry #dVerse #amwriting 


Thanks to Paul Scribbles of Poet’s Pub for hosting the #dVerse prompt on “the end.” 

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Credit: Roksolana Zasiadko via Unsplash

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The end is never the end. It’s always the the beginning of something.” ― Kate Lord Brown, The Perfume Garden

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There once was a beginning, but for us, I think;

We never were, until we were, created in a blink.

Once upon a time there was the Word, 

The Word was God; It was with Him to be heard. 

All was darkness but the Word was the light 

The Word was the cure, it was omniscient insight.

Every spark becomes darkness, but His fire brings dawn. 

In the first beginning, his light lit uncountable sparks, 

That eternal, all-knowing ‘start’ burning through the dark. 

Where beginnings take place; journeys are revealed, 

Where life is born, ideas form, the masked are unconcealed. 

Beginings that inspire and conspire to grow and leap,  

Sparks choosing to expire, or to burn on in the deep.

There is the ‘lighter’ of the spark and the ‘spark’ itself;

Knowledge too that sparks turned cinders, have eternal help. 

Every spark become darkness, but His spark brings dawn. 

Who knows of endings but that they’re already won, 

The ‘Candle-snuffer’ futile fights, his end already come.  

He decided his ending forever, when our spark was new, 

He’s the one temptation slithered, damnation to all construed. 

The eternal light is present, no cinders who ask will end up ash, 

Faith is fuel that forever burns, so the term ‘end’ has passed.   

Every spark becomes darkness, but His spark brings dawns. 

 ——–

©Mandibelle16 (2017) All Rights Reserved.