Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Rictameter – “The Angel” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry  


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode

——–

Here’s she,

His sweet angel,

Wearing her frothy gown,

She’s beautiful, elegant,

A wife any man could love or desire.

She’s the epitome, the standard,

What women should be like,

Humming music,

Here’s she.

——–

Her hair,

Perfectly coiffed,

Mother of six children,

Few lines on her face, she holds up.

Although, life’s pressure can be confining,

Her lips smile a gesture rehearsed.

What’s underneath in her —

Boarding school mind,

Her hair?

——

Model,

She’d wants all to —

Perceive she’s the perfect wife.

Society expects her to —

Set perfect example because —

She’s upperclass, the lead in the charade.

Acting as the moral —

Center, she must

Model

——

Portrait,

Of the great dame,

Her family, pride, joy,

Madame’s smile is slipping because,

Performing all the time is exhausting.

She wonders if she might sit with —

Port to sip, not thinking,

Herself; not a —

Portrait

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

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Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Poem – Rondeau – “Playing The Part” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction #fiction


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: http://www.unsplash.com

——

You may not notice, I’m a work of art

My body my canvas, I define my part;

My vision for my world; Mad Max who darts,

From posers surrounding; their judgment.

Skull rings which frighten, mean I’m them nudging, 

To think outside what they perceive; cold remarks. 

They’ll swear vindictively, “That punk, upstart;

Who’s he think he is? His ink such a lark.”

I’ve tuned them all out, their words toxic sludge,

I’m reckless, I’m fine; I’m a work of art. 

I’m older now, I’ve forgotten their darts

Aimed to hit my stillrock hard diamond heart.

Dress shirts, ties, hide tattoos; I’ll not begrudge,  

Rough nights aided, their beauty never smudged. 

I know too well, what it’s like, to play a part.  

I’m reckless, I’m fine; I’m a work of art. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
 

Photo Prompt: Poetry – Shakespearean Sonnet – “A Stage”


Thank you to Mind Loves Misery’s Menagerie for this weeks photo prompt:

—–

Unknown

——-

The whole world is our stage, the bard, Shakespeare —

In As You Like It, wrote: we‘re all acting.

Our flaws from our image perceived, not clear. 

Perform each day, we say words not exact.

——-

Our fear, our doubt; such lonileness confides,

All our truths to another’s sad eyes,

On rocks we stumble, we cannot stay; reside.

We could beg for help but we act, more lies. 

——

Curtains about to part, they hide stage fright,

White billowing clouds, pulled by ropes they show, 

Each person performing their role, their life. 

Hoping they bloom, become more then this –grow. 

——

The world’s a stage, what wisdom to impart,

We’re merely players, to soon to depart. 

——

For more info on Shakespeare’s famous lines from As You Like It, visit here

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Free Verse – ” A Day in the City”


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And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, I challenge you to fill out, in no more than five minutes, the following “Almanac Questionnaire,” which solicits concrete details about a specific place (real or imagined). Then write a poem incorporating or based on one or more of your answers. Happy writing!

 

 

 

—–

Edmonton at Night
Edmonton at Night (www.pinterest.com)
——

Warm Spring Day at fifteen degrees,

In our pretty bungalow near the River Valley,

Gerber Daisies on the table, warm colours please,

Resting on a tablecloth, Easter pastels gladly.

—–

The dog lies under the table in my art studio,

I’ve tried to paint her, but she never sits still long.

Driving downtown to immerse myself, with dog go.

Bask in the presence of the farmer’s market’s throngs.

—-.

Dog walking beside me, enjoying all her doggy friends.

Conversation with some guy about Hockey playoffs,

Not many Canadian teams made it, no matter in the end.

Many Canadian players, play for American teams, so layoff.

——

Walking down the street past ancient buildings,

Observing the walls speckled, thoughtless youth wrote graffiti.

Some call it ‘art’ while others would say ‘you’re dreaming.’

Obscenity scrawled haphazardly, done messily.

——

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Asks the aged vendor selling peaches.

I give him a smile, saying: “I’m happy to be single right now.”

Subject change, “Have you seen my new puppy?” Subject now out of reach.

Old guy is comfortable, complains of gas prices and frowns.

——

Oil prices particularly  bad, so I let him know gas prices are low.

He doesn’t understand; when he was young gas cost barely anything.

Ready to move on, I don’t want to be rude; dog barks, “time to go.”

He talks more, the Terwilliger Park Foot Bridge opening this spring.

——-

The new bridge has an amazing minimalist design,

I tell the vendor about biking there with my Dad,

When my brothers and I were younger, biking was fine.

Following closely, didn’t want to get spanked as we had.

——-

Then slipping away I wander to other booths,

Comfortable in leggings and thin white sweater,

The dog wants to run, I can tell; We leave, dog approves.

Down to the river valley on the off leash trails is better.

——-

We have to watch out for the Beavertaur — a mythical animal,

But some say they have seen it on the prowl.

Both beaver and minotaur; a creature quite unimaginable.

For those walking river valley trails, the situation could be foul.

——

My friend has sworn upon Wayne Gretzky’s statue,

That he barely escaped the Beavertaur with his life.

Made me laugh; today the dog and I are fine, no snafu.

We went on home and we had a nap, long day but no strife.

——

Gazing out my window, to the brick patio below,

Think we need outdoor furniture, to enjoy in the sun.

Remembering family friend, left life’s flow.

Gone for five-years already, in heaven’s quiet hum.

——

She babysat me when I was small, thirteen years my senior,

Reading Appley Dapply Nursery Rhymes; beloved childhood book,

Then settling in bed I sleep for a moment, no dreams either.

Hearing cats screeching, the dog barking, awake I’m shook.

——

In alley, a neighbour’s trash bin — scattered garbage,

You can’t leave your trash out, the cats will make a meal of it,

Neighbours leave their bags in the open always unguarded,

I’m annoyed, but I roll my eyes and think, ‘forget about it.’

—–

Vacation thoughts stir my mind in other directions,

A trip in Canada, much easier then going through US border.

Maybe, Quebec City or Montreal, thoughts and reflections.

Killing a large spider with a block of wood; restored order.

—–

It’s good luck to kill a spider, he won’t end up in your house.

Dog is whining; she wasn’t outside with me,

That’s just life I tell her; TV on, channel browse,

The debate: aren’t we the City of Champions? Can’t you see?

—–

Or does the Oiler’s last ten-seasons make us champions not?

It’s more than merely about playing hockey,

It’s a way of acting, some people don’t understand that talk.

Being a champion in the heart, it’s  Edmonton’s image worthy.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

 

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Fan Letter – Septolets – ” Dear Jennifer Lawrence.” 


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Yesterday, we wrote portraits of families. Today, let’s turn our vision outward, and write fan letters. I challenge you to write a poem in the form of a fan letter to a celebrity. Now, this could be a celebrity from long ago, and needn’t be an actor or singer (though it could be). You could write to George Washington or Dorothy Dandridge, Marie Curie or The Weeknd. Happy writing!

For further information please visit NaPoWriMo.

——

 

http://www.geeknation.com
 
——-

Dear Jennifer 

Lawrence, I’m —

In awe;

Such —

Talent,

You have,

Acting, singing;

You’re classy.

———

And you’re,

Hilarious sometimes,

Your roles,

Are —

Strong —

Women who,

Are shamelessly 

Themselves, truthful.

——-

The Hunger

Games, one 

Of my

Favourite,

Series,

Where Katniss, 

‘The girl 

On fire,’

Won finally.

——

And in, 

Mockingjay Part

One, you

Sang

About

“The Hanging

Tree;” haunting

Voice sung.

—–

Before that, 

Was Silver 

Linings Play

Book.

Showing,

Us a women

Depressed could 

Be Amazing.

——

You’re beautiful

But you’re 

Real, not

Fake.

I

Admire that.

In public;

You’re authentic.

——

I see,

Many years,

Of acting,

Ahead,

Your,

Talent shines —

Through and,

You’ve character.

—–

In Joy,

You are 

A determined

Business —

Woman,

Feeding your,

Family, while —

Becoming successful.

——

In X-men,

You play,

The nearly 

Dark,

‘Mystique.’

All blue,

With curves,

Becoming others.

——

I was 

Glad in,

Days of 

Futures

Past,

You stayed, 

Playing for,

What’s right.

——

In X-men —

Apocalypse next, 

You’ll be,

True,

‘Mystique,’

Mutant striving,

for life,

On earth.

——-

I’m in

Awe of

Your abilities

To–

Cause,

People to,

Feel emotions,

You’re timeless.

—–

You’ll be —

A strong, 

Woman remembered.

Witty,

Sharp,

Thank you, 

For sharing,

Your talent.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.