Current Events, Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 25 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Writing Prompt: Poem – Cascading Etherees — “The Urn, Death, and the Light” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #WritingChallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is a “challenge you to write a poem that explores a small, defined space.” For A to Z Challenge the GoodRead’s Quote author has a name beginning with letter V. Im going two work in the Prompt from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Prompt from last week of a letter to death

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Credit: Tomb of Wayfaring Soul

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It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

———

Such a tiny space I’ve ended in,

No satin lining, pillow, or light. 

Shelved next to others kept, 

Hear in this wall, directed, 

The family not to pay for, 

More than an urn, 

But why, ask I, 

Am I in, 

This wall, 

Left.

—–

It’s, 

Easy,

To understand, 

You didn’t want me —

Reminding  you, who I —

Used to be alive and whole. 

That my ashes in an urn could,

Easily fall, ending up on the floor. 

I’m wondering death, if you laugh at this? 

——

If you comprehend my annoyance clear, 

That my ashes weren’t scattered far  —

Into the park, the Off-leash trails, 

Or into the water, 

To a place of peace. 

No walls for me, 

Take my remains, 

Death, cast them —

To the, 

Wind. 

——-

At, 

First I, 

Had many, 

Questions, 

But I knew you took, 

All you needed of, 

What was left of me. 

And we’re no longer foes who are — 

Bound to time; so you explain the whys,

Fill in the wherefores, gazing ahead soft. 

——

Kingdom of light, love, facing the Heavens,

Death says this is the right place and —

I pray he isn’t wrong, for all —

Is revealed here in the —

House me Father built. 

His mansion with —

Many rooms for —

The faithful, 

Those souls, 

Won. . 

——

So, 

Death you —

Have not your, 

Victory. 

Death you have no sting, 

And in eternity, 

All questions are answered, 

Tranquility comes knowing, 

The reason for everything —

The cross on Calvery, God’s love divine. 

——–


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

 Day 24 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Art of a Story and Death” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #100WordWednesday #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting last week’s #100WordWednesday flashfiction prompt. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by a work of art.” The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Prompt begins with the letter U. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl – Her Photograph and work of art for the prompt 🙂

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To write is to forget. Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life. Music soothes, the visual arts exhilarates, the performing arts (such as acting and dance) entertain. Literature, however, retreats from life by turning in into slumber. The other arts make no such retreat— some because they use visible and hence vital formulas, others because they live from human life itself. 

― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet”

(Sorry finding a Q name for this piece impossible but there is Q in Disquiet!)

———

The photograph is lovely at first, 

A brilliant blue sky, soft winds of cool breezes, 

The Atlantic still icy, but forgiving. 

Trees rise and guard the home, the lighthouse, 

Ancient ones in slumber as spring yet approaches. 

Rock walls prevent a fall below, to the unforgiving chill. 

Hypothermia comes quickly here, 

But the scenery makes up for the inherent danger. 

Bright pink of the house stands out and the tower above matches, 

Glows in the night when the boats pass by, 

Protecting and guiding ships. 

The long grass still waiting to be verdent, 

Not dry crumpled straw. 

And the owners of the house are silent, keeping to themselves, 

Their only sense of existing, is the light that glares, when outside the tower is dark. 

Spring is slowly birthing, but the ocean’s still freezing, 

And the danger is too real for ships too close.  

And a stranger walking watches from the dim, 

Holding back a dog barking in madness. 

The bulb has burnt out, now disaster is unhinged, 

The ship clips the cliff, the house crumbles and the ship sinks, 

Screams in the night, in the Atlantic’ waters cold numbness. 

And when all is said and done, only the lighthouse stands, 

With a burnt out bulb of fault. 

How can this photograph be a work of art? 

Is there art in dying? 

Or is art and death as a perception, to ambigious to be real? 

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©Mandibelle16. 2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Elevenie - 1 Word - Noun, 2 Word - describes 3 Words - Place, 4 Words describe, 1 Word ends, Fiction, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing

Day 23 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Photo Challenge: Poem – Elevenie – “The Mending Woman” #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #photochallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write, “an elevenie. An an eleven-word poem of five lines, with each line performing a specific task in the poem. The first line is one word, a noun. The second line is two words that explain what the noun in the first line does, the third line explains where the noun is in three words, the fourth line provides further explanation in four words, and the fifth line concludes with one word that sums up the feeling or result of the first line’s noun being what it is and where it is.”

The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s prompt is for the letter T. Also thank you to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo challenge. 

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Credit: Source Unknown

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“[F]abrics doesn’t make exquisite dresses, it is the stitches. — Treasure Stitches

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Seamstress,

Sewing powerlines, 

Deserted highway dusk. 

She fixes everything she’s —

Skilled. 

—–

Highway, 

Snowy, windy,

Middle of countryside 

A giant needle weaves, 

Stitches.

——-

Seamstress, 

Never pausing, 

Amidst winding roads, 

Fixing energies flow, she’s 

Wired. 

——

Fixer, 

Forever career, 

Barren places found,

Mending for others but —

Forlorn.  

——

Belongings, 

In backpack, 

Town to Town, 

Igniting power’s wicked spark, 

Gone.

——-

Hitchhiker, 

Purposeful steps, 

Melting snow puddles, 

Spring follows, winter mended, 

Warmth. 

Mender, 

Stitching problems, 

Walks estranged roads, 

Sewing all problems, she —

Disappears

—–

Gone, 

Out of —

Sight of strangelands, 

Goes where the wind, 

Blows. 

——–



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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Children/YA/Family, Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Nonfiction, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Rondel - ABba abAB abbaA, Writing Challenges

Day 22 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /FFftAW: Poem – Rondel – “Wheat Fields” #poetry #flashfiction #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem called a Georgic focused on taking care of the earth and agriculture and initially written by Virgil. For the A to Z Challenge the GoodRead’s writer’s quote will begin with the letter S. Also I’m using this poem for Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy

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Credit: Yinglan Z

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“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

———

In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

The threshing machine worked, farmer in his seat, 

Radio loud as wheat full grown ceases —

No longer for a glorious view reached. 

Becomes the meals of many now to eat. 

In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

An old wagon rotting by the house leased. 

Visions of yesterday, horses released. 

No burden for harvest to pull and meet. 

Times have changed, technology entreats. 

In fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 21 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /Music Prompt: Poem – Octaine Refrain – “Just Because You Can” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #MusicChallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt us “to write a poem that incorporates overheard speech, I’m using a part of song lyrics.” The A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s author’s Quote is for the letter R. Also I’m incorporating MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Music Prompt on the Dolly Parton Song “Jolene” performed recently with the a capella group Pentatonix. 

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Credit: http://www.bodybuilding.com Forums
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When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.” ― George R.R. Martin

——–

Please don’t take my man, just because you can, 

Your beauty is immeasurable, unique, 

I wish my man wasn’t who you were seeking. 

I know my request you don’t understand, 

You can love again and do it easily. 

I wish you didn’t make him feel so pleased, 

He loved me before your auburn hair strands, 

Brushed past his face, and made him so weak. 

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 
——

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 

Your voice so soft like summer rain, laughing, 

Your sense of humour for him attractive. 

You float through life a stunning star ambling, 

Not thinking of women like me you hurt. 

Your seduction done so freely, not worth —

The heartache you cause just because you can. 

I can’t love again, so value what you have, 

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 

——–

“Jolene” – Dolly Parton and Pentatonix

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Books, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 20 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/SPF: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Dragons and Quiditch” #poetry #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to “write a poem that incorporates the vocabulary and imagery of a specific sport or game.” The A to Z Challenge GoodReads quote author’s name begins with the letter Q. 

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Credit: Jade M. Wong

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“Time present and time past are both perhaps present in time future. And time future contained in time past.”  ― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

———

Quidditch played above the ground below, I zoom, 

Avoiding bludgers on my sleek broom stick. 

The beaters nearby to keep me safe, I’m slick. 

No one thought to ask why the dragons so loomed, 

Why there coming pronounced such grave doom. 

The chasers zoom ’round, to find the quaffle, 

While the keeper guards the goals, I waffle. 

Snitch in view, I, the seeker on my broom. 

But the roars and the fire reach closer, 

We’re becoming antsy as such fearsome —

Dragons fly into the field, some they screech. 

No one sees, how short a lifetime is made, 

When you’re flying for your life, no exposure, 

If revealed, dragons will take you to keep. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Blank Verse - unrhymed Iambic Pentameter, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Flash Fiction, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 19 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Blank Verse – “Mythology Not Lost” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #100WordWednesday 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to recreate a myth in a poem. The A to Z Challenge quote from GoodReads has an author with a P in their name. Also, thank you to Bikurgurl for hosting last week’s #100WordWednesday. 

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Credit: Anjo Beckers Photography

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” I moan with pleasure.

“Did you just have a foodgasm?” he asks, wiping ricotta from his lips.

“Where have you been all my life?” I ask the beautiful panini.” 

― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

———

There are those who believe the Greek gods left, 

Went away, didn’t return, disappeared. 

Where there was greed, pride, avarice, lust, and war, 

There was no longer, because these gods were, 

Never gods, more like spoiled children who were —

Tolerated for a while until the —

 God who is the God, decide that they, 

Need find another place to play, beyond —

Olympus, and Athens, and Rome — and then, 

Came the Popes and the Cardinals, more sin. 

They had always been there, but now they —

We’re warriors and wise men, judges and —

The Greco-Roman gods and goddesses, 

We’re invisible, ethereal, just air. 

It’s what becomes of beings that ‘are,’

But aren’t real, they’re missing a certain —

Quality that means that in some form they’re —

Alive; full of heart, blood, bone, marrow, soul. 

But these gods were but mythology so they, 

Faded as much mythology does.

Legends of all kinds and all cultures who 

Have been, before and after them, or so —

I was told, ’til I began to see such surreal —

Things in town, at dinner talking with —

My dad, about life, and school and then, 

Beside us was this old man; and his eyes, 

We’re blue and twinkled, he had such, 

Vigor for his age, he smiled at me while he —

Talked to his friends, other gods he said. 

Not the God, but gods, he said who had been,

To me they were all invisible; he said —

Long ago in Greece and Rome, he was king. 

As Zeus or Jupiter, but now they —

All blended into humans, they had their —

Special places where they could go, greeting —

Their old friends and eating what gods do. 

He ate panini, talking loudly, 

Today it was Aphrodite, he also —

Said he was eating Ambrosia, the food, 

Gods required, and an extra plate lay, 

Near his hand, licked clean; he said that his son, 

Apollo, had been there, eating with him. 

He calls me granddaughter and one day —

The old man gave me a small piece of his, 

Panini he loved, saying it was ‘good.’ 

Said it was in my blood, so I ate and —

The amazing delicious panini, 

Became a hunger inside me for more and —

More, until I no longer visited the, 

Restaurant with my folks or my friends, 

But to eat with the old man and our kind. 

Who no longer rule, but have special spots, 

In restaurants such as this, where myth, 

And reality meet, somehow they reform. 

Because at tonight’s feast I find them all, 

Gods, goddesses, of mythology lost. 

——–


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Flash Fiction, History, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Terzanelle ABA bCB cDC dED eFE fAFA (fFAA), Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 18 – NaPoWriMo/Ato Z Challenge/Saturday Mix: Poem – Terzenelle – “Memory-Keeps” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #saturdaymix 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for the Saturday Mix challenge. I chose the three words: collector, approach, and anchor for the Abecedary challenge. The NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem that incorporates neologisms or a made-up word! Your neologisms could be portmanteaus (basically, a word made from combining two existing words, like “motel” coming from “motor” and “hotel”) or they could be words invented entirely for their sound. Probably the most famous example of a poem incorporating neologisms is Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky, but neologisms don’t have to be funny or used in the service of humor.” For A to Z Challenge the letter P will be used for the GoodRead’s quote.

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Credit: Hieu Photography – Westminster, CA, USA

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“When it comes to memories, the good and the bad never balance.” ― Jodi Picoult, Handle with Care

——

What do you memory-keep, in hiding? 

Is it shot glasses or dream-chains?

What do you memory-keep in hiding? 

Mind-shells, collected in the ocean claimed? 

Is it silver spoons, photographs?

Is it shot glasses or dream-chains? 

Do you keep ticket stubs, find-maps? 

Do you keep a journal or postcards?

Is it silver spoons or photographs

Do you approach life, to be a live-hard?

What objects hold your memories dear? 

Do you keep a journal or postcards? 

Do you buy rings, anchoring thoughts clear? 

Or do you have a photographic mind?

What objects hold your memories dear?

Do you think of those who’ve been kindlings

What do you memory-keep in hiding? 

Or do you have a photographic mind? 

What do you memory-keep in hiding? 

________


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 17 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/ First Line Friday FF: Poem – Free Verse — “Full Moon of Neurotic Night” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #FLF #poetry 


Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie‘a First Line Friday Prompt. The first line from last Friday was: “I’m going to tell you how I lost my inheritance.” For NaPoWriMo the prompt is to write a nocturne which is a poem/song about the night. For A to Z Challenge, today’s letter is O for a GoodRead’s quote.  

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Credit: Arial Estrulin – Travel and Landscape Photography

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“You don’t have to be dead to leave a legacy. — Onyi Anyado”

——-

I’m going to tell how I lost my inheritance, how my legacy rides in tides as the full moon rises, 

How the night stole my humanity and hammered my soul a blow. 

The dusk covered the light, liquid tar blanket bestowed, 

The sun hid himself away, way down in western wilds of woe. 

A sinking feeling settled in and a certain chorus began to ring,

A range of notes, a rising crescendo of riveting lyrical prose. 

A poet’s words possessing her, when she knows full well, 

The powerful pull of the midnight hour. 

And the pressing provocative lure as the moon glows, 

A white orb that won’t warble, a strong luminious light, 

Residing over all as every full moon does. 

To be host over the howling wolves, the healthy youths as they prowl, 

The dark delights of the night distend into the dimest parts of every soul. 

A choir of banshees brazenly taking souls salaciously, the maids from their beds,

The hour of the demons drawing back to their victims with wet bloody lips;

The incubus raging and awaking the wild within their prey. 

And all is a lure, an image not clear, all this is imagined, 

All this is frightening, foretold in nightmares. 

The affected awake in the morning from the pleasure and pain,

From satisfied appetites, appalling in the dank aptitudes of night. 

Night swells and swallows herprey wholly, partaking and doping with her starry glow, 

Inviting the worst from the wise, even ill from the innocent. 

Yet a moral being cannot mean to say, night has had her way and ‘I’ had no say; 

It’s easy to give in with ease, to isolate one’s self to enthralling entertainments, inscribed darkly now on souls. 

And what’s done in the night when the moon is full and fat, cannot be told for it stays hidden on those nights, when the wildest ones escape.

The vampires and the wolves, the creatures we know not of, and humans do not stay humble ether — they choose to fly with the fallen. 

A nocturne of night will tell you what power presumes to hide beneath an inky black veil,

It’s not pure evil, it’s the usual kind, who chooses to dance with the devil, and forget their choices their choosing for charm and wine. 

For tequila and vodka, for him and her, and whisky burning down your throat as the howls of the night combine with a loss of memory; 

And we all awake mid-afternoon, no one knowing the peculiarities of such a night, a full out frightening moon. 

Only a feeling, a shiver, a prayer, as the moon fades from brilliance, she is trapped, unwillingingly held as she wanes us back into morality. 

The light of the sun salutes from the east and all is forgiven in harmony and health, angelic nebulas, skys of blue birds, and Bambi deers galloping. 

Woe is the wicked night on the full moon, but how much greater is the morn after malevolence is perpetually destroyed,

Yet oh, how we miss the fun of bliss in the dark — no thoughts, no reason, just acceptance to absorb the pleasures of night’s nocturnal nightmares. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Published Work, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Works Published, Writing

Published Poem: Rictameter – “Foresight” #amwriting #poetry #published


Sharing with you another poem from http://www.spillwords.com. They have been so good to me. You may remember this from a week or two ago, but here it is again on their website: ” Foresight ” by Amanda E,  Happy Easter! 

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Credit: http://www.spillwords.com

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.