Photo Challenge/Saturday Mix: “We’re Done” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to NELNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge and Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday mix on the theme of onomatopoeia and the three words rustle, thud, and hoot.


Credit: Google

Our balance as love-birds is precarious. We’re alike yet, so different. Holding our Adho Mukha Vrksasana‘ handstands, eyes closed; our breath mingling. It’s a habit of ours, mutual meditation of bodies and minds. We breathe deep, yet struggle to hold our pose.

A rushing sensation floods my brain. My blood pumps downward and dizziness threatens.

You groan. “Hold it five more minutes.”

I say nothing. You’re too close, I need distance. I’m sick of this arrangement. You take flight far from me; there’s never any communication, until you’re home. It’s as if I don’t exist for you until there’s no one else.

My muscles relax and I flex my feet, rolling my body through my spine, then my hips, until I’m in table top, and then, sitting cross legged. You’ve noticed nothing. Do you ever? I shove your side. Your spindle-legs flail in the air; you can’t right yourself. Thud!

“What the hell.” You glare and examine the scratches on your body.

I shrug. “Too much. I can’t keep this up.”

“Huh?”

“Everything.” My lungs ache; I feel caged. I want to scream.

“What’s wrong with you?” You cock your head and study me, hands on your knees. Your beady eyes send nervous chills.

“Her, all the hers. Cassandras and Stephanies. Kassies and Ashleys.”

“You’re the only Claire.”

I stand. The sun’s hot on my arms as I yank on yoga pants. Crisp spring leaves rustle above me in the river valley along with the some hooting bird. The breeze quickens, and I shiver, stretching high into mountain pose.

I peer at him, as he considers me. “I think I’m tired of peacocks like you. I don’t need your strutting or the women. The never knowing where you are, or if you care.”

You frown, run your hands through your hair, while your toes dig into the grass. “What are you talking about?”

“I need to concentrate on other things, not where or who you’re leaving here for next; the never knowing if you’ll return.” I turn, shoving my feet into pink Tom’s. My breath eases. I’m relieved that I said it, finally.

“Claire, stay. Please.” You twist your hippy-beard and your beady eyes beg.

I close mine and sigh. ” I can’t; no more.” You reach for your water bottle, gulp it before slamming it against a tree. Twigs crack, the bottle dents.

You swear, but don’t follow me as I hike back to the car. When I no longer see you, my body quivers, wracked with sobs. With each step I rid myself of your poison.

A few minutes later I rub my eyes with my hoodie sleeve. I don’t care that they’re pink and swollen.

That’s when it hits me –the silence of no drama, no worry weighing my entire being down as stones. I let the silence permeate me; a peace I haven’t experienced in years crashes over me. We’re done. My lips turn upwards and I smile. I haven’t done that in years either.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

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Sunday Writing: Poem – English Sonnet – “The Jungle Fight” #amwritingpoetry #SundayWriting


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this prompt.


“These mountains you are carrying, you were only supposed to climb.” Najwa Zebian


Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie


They’re mountains that weigh, on my heart to slay;

To grieve me despite, all that’s suffered mute.

Pains of malice crawling, with pincers raze.

My eyes wander, collide with yours for clues.

How can we escape this unending hike?

Death march, end unknown; follow the leader.

Or, slip away through vapid mindless might;

Catch melodic tweets, delight a dreamer.

Let not endless trees’ tangle– no ‘good-death’;

Let not poison Venus shrill;

wildcat’s bite.

Leave heat-exhaustion, shallow fettered breath,

Pincers lingering, swipe through brushes –fight.

For we’re warriors fierce, Amazonian’s who thrive;

Not aimless birds, astray in shallow wilds.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Fiction – Perpetual Hunger #amwritingfiction #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 300 Words for hosting #3LineTales.


Credit: Sam Lloyd via Unsplash


Lilly was 18-years old and despite turning a year older, hated she wasn’t able to leave their house on the lake for a city university, not the prep-college in town; Lilly’s family had for generations owned a winery near her current university in Napa. After a dull birthday party she swung to-and-fro on her treasured porch swing, and scowled at the lake — her charcoaled eyes brimming tears; Lilly wondered how much criticism she’d have to endure until she could attend any university she desired in Fall. She had achieved the SAT grades for a scholarship far from the winery and her Aunt’s persistent nagging and constant mention of Lilly’s waistline; she longed for the days could attend school far north in Canada without perpetual hunger.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse — “A Land of Peace” #amwritingpoetry


Wrote this a few days back. Edited it this New Year’s Eve. Sorry, it couldn’t be happier, but I hope you perceive the wish for that which is peaceful.


Credit: Seth Macey via Unsplash


I hear the blunt of your hammer,

Your riffle as it clambers;

If only to block out the ruckus,

While I’m tucked in flannels.

The world spins and stammers,

Your barrel it twirls, the gun’s reloaded.

I’m a maid of ages,

So, bring home my man, prisoner of war.

Life in medicine-hands, he’s grave and damaged.

No one plans life’s intense dramas, when they’re a blood-bath.

Bullots locked and loaded,

Zipping through air in motion slowed, air ripples —

As a surgeons hands riddle, shells from a civilian caught fleeing —

From a soldier he knows not, from a war he caused not;

From a visage of war, he’s not committed to fighting.

So, bring home my man, he’s the prisoner wounded,

The civilian in shackles; although, you’d never recognize their weight.

He’s the media image — the child crying enamored —

Of a wrinkled photo, the last of his mother.

Or, a soldier’s son’s tears dripping rivers,

Afraid and stammering, the stream of saltwater.

His sister caught snitching, but a morsel to spit-out.

And they’re all dying in masses,

But we peeped through fire-ball wreckage,

Rusted 3rd-world problems to obscene to believe.

We couldn’t perceive a media of glorified killers; crosses blunt ashes.

Of people left bawling as the bugle was calling —

Oh, bring home my man,

He is lost in bombs crashing, the stitching of wounds,

Tumors, fractures, and a machine gun’s destruction;

Stomachs bloated hungering, and cataracts gleaming.

Smoke-ridden eyes granted sight, now horrified —

To realize their home’s a wasteland of dreams.

Oh, bring home my man, he’s lost and he’s broken.

The terrors too much, pain scarred soul-deep,

And his child is weeping, no control is frightening.

Oh, bring home my man from your war of terror ageless,

Be you pagan or Christian, Muslim, or Jewish;

You still war with Aries and feed Jupiter innocent flesh.

Oh, bring home my man, no more cause him anguish,

Not the dreams of a ‘silent night’ lost.

Not another year ridden with gun’s reloading,

Gun’s we’ve packed centuries,

To a place mermaids once swam.

The memories paper-bag brown, curled;

Worn like faded leather; a letter disintegrated.

A story once told,

Where three sisters met,

As poppy red blows in lands long forgotten.

1st world woes, claim to expose,

3rd worlds implode, and no one knows;

Root of the evil, that grows and grows.

So, carry home my man, let his feet not in Opium fields drag.

He’s healed your wounded, your dying;

Now he knows he must leave, lest forever he sleep;

Support his weight, his shoulders slumped —

With night terrors, violent streams of woe.

As the new year comes upon us,

Think not of war’s carnage, let all children —

Of every age in existence,

Live in a land of peace.

Never a gun’s bullets ricocheting;

Never a nightmare, but a life of opportunity;

A day without weeping, words tucked —

In the pocket of a heart that beats, not bleeds.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes: Part One, December 2018 #notablequotes #pinterest #quotes


Welcome, this is late, better late than never I suppose. This week is my last Steeped Tea Event for December, except maybe Boxing Day. My last 2018 charity event is Monday, called the ‘Snowflake Ball’ for a children’s hospital wing, in the University Hospital in my city. I’m excited, but I know it will be a long one by the end of the night. Enjoyable too. There are so many worthy causes out there and I love that I can be apart of them. Looking forward to the fashion at this one too.

I have a couple of stops left to Christmas shop before the 24th, & also Christmas baking, cards, and special foods, those kinds of things to prepare once work is done for awhile. This year has turned out to be so different than many other years. Both, in ways I’m glad about and also in taking giant leaps — I’m still in the process of figuring life out. I wish this involved writing more, but I’ve gained experience in other areas I hope will be useful in the future. Here and there I get to write a poem, and comment. These are the most relaxing times for me. Sometime I will have a lot more to say then, what I can say right now. But it’s been a good year — answered prayers, and time to catch up on some quotes.


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©️Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Causebox Fall 2018: Intro Box #Causebox #sociallyconscious


I was super excited to receive this in the mail a couple of weeks back. Not only for the great items, but also for the charities and causes Causebox Supports. I loved that I could see the items I would receive, even if they had different styles or color choices I couldn’t choose as a new member. You can sign up as a yearly member too have this option.

Check out Causebox.com today as they have a great Cyber Monday special on, in the above link. The items in this particular box I loved, as they form parts of many Christmas presents!! The entire box is worth over $250, but since it is a membership, can be bought seasonally from $55 to $60 US. I had a coupon for my first box for $10 OFF.


Causebox searches the world for the best “socially conscious products.” They deliver these products seasonally to customers in a “beautifully designed” box. Each Causebox “highlights companies and products,” which put “people before profit,” and help make the world an improved place.


Artist Designed Postcard, Top Right.



From the October Causebox, this vegan-leather clutch was available in black or tan/cream & handcrafted by artisans in Jaipur, India. It’s magnetically fastens and has thoughtfully designed features such as roomy, open pockets, zippered storage, and a card sleeve. Jaipur unites chic, modern designs with timeless craftsmanship that empowers artisan communities located in central India. I love this for nights out, & the tan/cream vegan leather goes with any outfit. (Worth $54).


I knew right away, this scarf was the perfect present for my Godmom, Aunt J. It was also created in India, and loomed by artisans there. It’s the perfect staple scarf for fall/winter/spring and Causebox partnered with Bloom & Give, to sponsor tuition for 50 girls to attend the Dashak Camp in Rajasthan, India. They receive education and empowerment here, which has changed the course of their lives. (Worth $60).


These Soko Bow Earrings are gorgeous and timeless. They can be dressed up or down, and are handmade by artisans in Kenya. These artisans have been empowered with technological tools, which permit them to sustainably support themselves, learn, and develop as entrepreneurs. These are part of a present for a good friend. (Worth $42).


This beautiful eyeshadow pallet and brush — I kept. I adored the colors and the quality of the eyeshadow pigment. The brush is well-made and perfect for your crease of your eye or the corners. These nine eyeshadow colors are from the brand RealHer and are cruelty free. They are named with strong, empowering words for women/men to be their “own kind of beauty.” RealHer also donates a portion of their proceeds to charities that promote inclusion. (Worth $38.00)


I love Zoya nail polish, it’s such a great brand. The polish colors last a long time. I did not get the colors I wanted with these, but I know the right person will come along for this gift. Zoya is one of the first brands to come out with clean, long lasting nail polish. They are made in the US, but are without formaldehyde, toluene, dibutyl phthalate, camphor, and six other toxic chemicals, commonly found in conventional nail polish. (Worth $20)


Scentuals Grape Fruit and Turmeric Hand Repair Cream is made with 100 percent natural ingredients. It’s a rich and quick-absorbing hand cream that nourishes skin with Shea butter and Cocoa butter. It’s also enriched with Organic Argan, Sweet Almond oil, and Aloe. Besides being all organic in its product formulations, Scentuals also donates a percentage of their sales to the Canadian Cancer Society. (Worth $7.89)

PF Candle Co. began in a garage, and has become the “go to choice” for some of the trendiest boutiques across America. Their candles are hand-poured in L.A. with a love for “apothecary inspired amber jars.” Each of their candles is made with 100 percent soy wax and has phthalate-Free premium fragrance oils inside ( Worth $18).


One of the most popular and environmentally-friendly water bottle brands out there, S’Well water bottles replace plastic disposable water bottles, with ThermaSwell Technology that keeps drinks cold for 24-hours and hot for 12-hours. This bottle was 17 Oz, S’well also has a 9 Oz. Size and 24 Oz.

The latter, can fit a bottle of wine and keep it chilled. I have one of these from before, it washes well, and comes in a plethora of designs and finishes. I was excited to have this as a free add-on to the box, as in Canada the the 17 Oz. Bottles are worth $45 or more, depending on the design. What’s best about them, is that they’re durable, light, easily washed, and have the perfect top to drink from. I use them at home, on the go, in bed, etc. They never spill or break from dropping them. They prevent oceans full of plastic water bottles that don’t break down, and are made from recycled material (Worth $45).


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 18/FFtAW: Poem – Bop – “Vapid Princess” #amwritingpoetry #flashfiction


For OctPoWriMo Day 18 the Prompt is Once Upon A Time. I’m combining with Priceless Joy’s FFftAW Flash Fiction Challenge.


Castles, fairy godmothers, glass slippers, and enchanted roses. When you hear the words “once upon a time” these items might be what it brings to mind. Say those four words aloud and it might make you anticipate something magical, something ethereal, something beyond the ordinary. When was the last time you experienced a once upon a time moment?



Princess fair, you primp gold hair, unaware.

So caught in your image, you disparage,

The court gathered in hallway ambling.

Waiting for your attention, gamblin —

Their worth on your grace, pithy attentions;

Lashes flutter blank, fish-like retention.

Vapid princess you’ve no heart nor valor.

Vast over land with ship, you’ve no courage,

To taste the sea with the crew or emerge,

Into the bright waving your fan, vapours —

On hand, when you faint from paltry labors —

Few; you’re endurance floats away too soon;

Your characters a feather lost — you swoon.

Odd pupils, diamonds coal-zirconium,

Void smile, lips titter brash, without meaning.

Vapid princess, you’ve no heart nor valor.

A victim of aristocracy, raised —

Without the wisdom to think and weigh;

Rights and wrongs, only to oversee whims.

Fancies of a doll’s head, which sways and sins.

Punishes for nothing; rewards work not.

No soul here — she was taught to vainly rot.

Vapid princess, you’ve no heart nor valor.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Credit: Priceless Joy

#OctPoWriMo Day 11/Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem — Octelle — “Avoiding the Cracks” #amwritingpoetry #MLMM


For OctPoWriMo Day 11, the Prompt is falling through the cracks. Also, I’ve combined with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt based on a Rudyard Kipling Poem called “If . . .”


Your soulmate wasn’t supposed to be perfect. You were meant to see the cracks in her soul and fill them with what you have and she was meant to see yours. Together you would be complete.” Shannon L. Alder


“If . . .” By Rudyard Kipling


It’s difficult for men to see,
We’re all cracked with faults daft, costly.
It’s difficult to admit we fall,
That we can’t tread through life evolved;
Not noting where the sidewalk bends,
Without the aid of our good friends.
What makes a man, it’s hard to know,
What makes a woman, do you know?
*****
But for both genders, patience works,
When those near find fault in our quirks.
If you remain trustworthy,
Despite others doubt’s swerving;
And consider their judgment still.
If you forget their lies and wills,
Focused on themselves, and choose truth,
You’ll avoid sidewalk cracks; the uncouth.
*****
It’s easier to forget hate,
To face it, but act with graciousness.
To have wisdom, but not force —
With advice for others; ignore —
Their destructive plans, their schemes,
Learn instead to master dreams.
Think with discernment, avoid cracks,
Don’t get caught up in silly spats.
*****
Be wise in triumph, and stay calm —
When disaster imposes wrongs.
While others misconstrue words —
You’ve spoken; if they’re perturbed,
Ignore the traps of fools and knaves.
See as they fall through the cracks, waves —
That drown them, as you find shore,
Keep going, rebuild; them ignore.
*****
Hold on with all you have inside,
Life’s no elegant first class ride.
Things look up, than they swivel,
Until you’re trapped within riddles.
Hold on to hope, know all men count.
Let none slide through society,
Not without amiability
*****
Your are the sun; you are not cracked.
Those your glow touches, keeps you on track.
You’re the sun lighting the world,
Yours is the world as it fast whirls.
You are the stars sharing your sheen;
Nebulas bursting seams,
So, keep avoiding sidewalk cracks,
Keep gliding on air, and there bask.

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.
   
   
©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 9/Tale Weavers/Saturday Mix: Poem – Lunes – “Roaring Lies” #amwritingpoetry #TaleWeavers


For OctPoWriMo Day 9 the Prompt is based on what love is or could be. Also, thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weavers. This Prompt was based around the notion of doing your best.


Credit: Ted Kelly via Unsplash

Eyes focused, rod and reel,

Clasped tight, pulling —

Swath of muscled scales silver.

*****

It’s not about the fish,

Lakes’ waves lapping,

Hound dog rocked to sleep.

*****

Not a getaway, but hideaway;

Crazy woman erupted,

Her viciousness spat on him.

****

Apologies mumbled, yelling escalates until,

She’s gone forever;

He sighs, lungs breathing relief.

*****

Her memory a gag reflex;

False love hides,

Behind beauty, lies monster roaring.

*****

His shoulders un-tense, canoe rocks;

He tried; she —

Wasn’t worth her abusive behavior.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes: September 2018 Part Two #notableqoutes #pinterest #quotes


Welcome to September 2018 Quotes Parts Two. May you find inspiration and strength, and sometimes, a laugh or two.


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©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.