Fiction, Flash Fiction, Food/Recipes, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Sunday Photo Fiction, Triolet - ABaAabAB - 1,4,7 repeat and 2,8 repeat., Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 27 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/SPF: Poem – Triolet – “Taste of Spring” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is a “challenge . . . to write a poem that explores your sense of taste! This could be a poem about food, or wine, or even the oddly metallic sensation of a snowflake on your tongue.” Also thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. For the A to Z Challenge, today’s GoodRead’s letter is the letter X. 


SPF Tree, Vines
Credit: John Brand

“I could recognise his soul in mine as much as he could find me in his. Our sole existences seemed to have been for this very moment when nothing else mattered.” X. Williamson (Distract My Hunger)


They air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung,

Lilacs on my lips, flavor of crisp leaves.

In the garden, scent of spring on my tongue.

The air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung.

Inhaling soft florals, fragrance in my lungs.

Breathing in and out, tastes chase what I’m grieving.

The air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung,

Lilacs on my lips, flavor of crisp leaves.


img_3554-10

img_3552-19


©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. 

———

Credit: Anjo Beckers Photography

———-

” 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. 

——–


——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Animals/Pets, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Ninefold, Poetry, Quotes, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 9 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Ninefold – “The Fight for Air” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #poetry #amwriting #100WordWednesday


Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge is a nine line poem of any form. For A to Z Challenge were looking for a GoidReads quote beginning with the letter H (first or last name) and the picture below comes from Bikurgurl for #100WordWednesday.

——-

Credit: Bikurgurl

——–

I can’t say what my first thought was as I sunk below the surface, because it was mostly a string of four-letter words” —Rachel Hawkins

——-

I’ve always been scared to swim in lakes, 

Who knows, what’s creeping below? 

Something skims my leg, I shriek loudly. 

Yet I wonder if I’m feeling fish, 

Or if I’m imagining some creature,

Whose bite, takes me below the surface.

Then I’m struggling, lunging for air, 

If only I can make it towards —

Luminious eternity shocks. 

——–


——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Books, Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Collage Prompt: Poem – Rictameter – “Books and Cherries” #amwriting #poetry #collage


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


Collage MLMM
Credit: Shawn Van Deale the woman on the left: Johnny Palacois the woman/aloe vera plant on the right.

Humming,

As the bird who’s —

Thrumming in the air,

Struggling for each flutter so

Rapid; so utterly fast it’s blurring.

My wings in flight are haze to you,

You don’t see underneath;

Desperation,

Humming.

——

Darkness,

Arising in —

My stomach, spiraling,

To the surface out of my —

Broken soul that I mend in those worlds found,

In each and every story, novels —

Ending hiding; I’m no —

Crab in my shell’s —

Darkness.

——-

In dreams,

I writhe, I twist,

Tales of old and new —

Follow me when enters Sandman,

To calm adventures stripping me of sleep.

But just as I live in my books,

I live in nightmarish —

Tales at midnight,

In dreams.

——-

Awake,

Oh, sheltered one.

Let the black smoke rise, cleanse

Your body from your shattered self,

Set free your mind, let your spirit live,

Life’s the greatest adventure,

Stories read fill gaps;

Burst forth spirit,

Awake.

———

Cherries,

You’re sexy  as,

Women who curl cherry —

Stems into knots with skillful tongues.

Unafraid to bare your body,

When it’s appreciated.

With love, you expose your —

Soul; All for ripe

Cherries.

—-

As books,

Sweet red cherries,

From the Okanagan,

A valley of delicacies.

Driving through B.C. in summer, you —

Stop at every fruit stand,

Selling juicy fruit — truths;

Cherries savored,

As books.

—–

Smokescreen,

Floats up swirls as —

Papal smoke; the blackness,

Forgiven reading thousands

Of tales, every genre, every language.

Devouring ‘reads’ as cherries,

Demons gone; living with —

Wisdom taught, no —

Smokescreen.

——

Light’s glow,

In each tale read.

Nourishes souls; keeps me —

Aching to learn, wanting to know,

Of worlds, fantastic characters —

With hubris, compelling charm.

While some characters are —

Searching hard for,

Light’s glow.

—–

Writing,

It filled holes,

Torn in souls, in hearts wrecked,

The reader became author,

Discovering within her fingers lies a —

Haven, a solace of peace, rest;

Because the story grows —

In her, exposing —

Writing.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Fiction, LaCharta - aaaaabb ccccdd etc. - 8 syllables, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Collage Prompt: How Edges Are Smoothed #amwriting #poetry #LaCharta


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

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——-

Obscured by flowers she slumbers;

In restless sleep, dreams and wonders. 

Of every place she could be stumbling. 

She’s on a bus; she’s left and coming. 

Engaging, discovering the world, 

Hands in the air, gives happy twirl. 

—–

She knows she’s one of those shattered

Those broken people, hearts scattered. 

All she lost hurts her, still matters, 

She’s travelling, her soul battered

Wherever she feels she goes free —

Never having felt mindless glee. 

—–

In parks she discovers nature’s gifts, 

Rain falling down in healing bliss. 

Frost on the pine trees, light snow drifts;

Fall’s leaves hanging with an ice kiss.

Dew drops on the pine needles caught, 

Icicled and splendid shots. 

—-

Shuttering Nikon bright photos, 

Numerous, exquisite, with notes —

Written neatly underneath rows. 

Photos printed, memories wrote. 

Publishes first book from afar, 

Remains here; she’s seen lucent stars. 

—-

Gleaming, brilliant lights overhead, 

New home to heal, words yet unsaid. 

Forgets past, hangs laundry instead, 

Milk in jug for children, she’s wed; 

Life remoulded into her dreams, 

Someone loves her, he teases. 

——

They laugh with each other love spun; 

Knows her well but she’s cut him some. 

Yet he heals, heals her too; he proves —

Love is the balm, steady, true. 

Whenever her edges spike through, 

Holds her tight until she’s smooth, soothed. 

—–
LaCharta

“The LaCharta, created by Laura Lamarca, consists of a minimum of 3 stanzas with no maximum length stipulation. Each stanza contains 6 lines. The syllable count is 8 per line in iambic tetrameter and the rhyme scheme is aaaabb ccccdd eeeeff and so on. “La” is Laura Lamarca’s signature and “Charta” in Latin, simply means “poem”.”

Please see Shadow Poetry for further information.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneer, History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Ottava Rima - abababcc, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Rondeau - aaabba, aabR, aabbaR, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Fictioneer: Poem – Ottava Rima –  ” Beach Drive” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction #1920’s


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff – Fields for hosting FF. 

—–

Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

——

Can you put my pieces back together?

Make me whole again? I long for —

Air rushing against chrome, driver moving —

As fast as full throttle can go more

Fill me with people; fix my engine too. 

Put some diesel in the tank go for —

A day trip with your hands on the wheel,

Switching gears, we drive until I’m healed.

—–

Let’s go for a drive, to the seaside,

Find some entertainment on sandy beaches. 

Let the girls wear their Jantzen suits glide,

Into lake shallows, splash each other, each

Laughing, cloche hats tight; stockings gone beachside,

Honk my horn –it’s time to go; don’t screech —

My tires, they’re full of air, we’re driving fast,

Back in the days, driving was a pastime

—-

*Jantzen – swim suits more like swim dresses from the 1920’s made out of a stretchy thick jersey, not wool as many previous swim suits were made from.  Jantzen jersey swim dresses were stretcher than regular jersey material. 

*Cloche hats – swim caps with a strap under the chin to hold them on a woman’s head and worn in the 1920’s. 

See Sun, Fun, and 1920’s from the blog Vintage Dancer. 

——

© Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Ninefold, Nonfiction, Poetry, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Ninefold – “Snow and Spirit” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers 


The prompt for last week’s Tale Weaver is outside your front door. Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting.

—–

Credit: CJ. Mottley – http://www.deviantart.com

Outside the door, the snow blows so cold, 

Shivering turning our faces too bold;

Seeing beauty of the white world old. 

Here the winds bite at our skin, they turn —
Bare skin numb in seconds outside learn —

For now stay inside be warm discern

The soft fragility floating round air, 

Calls to our soul, beyond reason to care, 

Find peace and in Christmas spirit share. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Writing

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Escaping Society #flashfiction #amwriting


Thanks to the lovely and gracious Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW this last week. 

——

Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode
——
Violet read the letter her daughter had sent her in disbelief. To fathom a girl of Elizabeth’s quality of breeding would do this to her family was unimaginable

Harsh Victorian society could never know the truth of what Elizabeth had done and Violet wasn’t sure she could bear to keep in contact with her daughter.

She would focus on her other children. Violet’s sons had married well. Three of her daughters were also married suitably and having more children. Her two youngest daughters were courting wealthy gentlemen. 

Elizabeth if not cut-off from her family, could ruin them all. Violet reread part of her daughter’s letter once more in disgust: 

“Did you know Mama, there is such thing as a circus? Freaks of all kinds, but I love them because they’re genuine, not like the society you so desperately try to trap me in. Years of dance lessons have left me flexible. I pirouette far above the ground and dance in the air; I ride the elephants. 

It’s amazing travelling the world and I won’t be returning to London, except for an occasional visit of course. I’ve married one of the men who runs the circus. He is like me, gentry who has run away from a society of judgement. I love you and hope we can write, but I can’t be the woman you want me to be. . .” 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Poem – Day 19 – Lunes – “Light Endures All” #novembernotes #poetry #amwriting #writing 


Today’s prompt song is “Meaning” by Gavin DeGraw.

—–

“Meaning” – Gavin DeGraw

——

http://www.favim.com

——-
Simple words said in light, 

Reveal the truth;

In daylight our souls flourish. 

——

But you’re a memory now;

And I’ve no, 

Lights to see, darkness holds. 

—-

I learn my lessons well,

I’ve found experience, 

Teaches only for so long. 

—–

Life has heartbreaks and heartaches, 

I’ve experienced both, 

You’re reaching out, far away. 

—-

You reach blindly for air, 

Wish you’d see,

Me as more than faceless.

—–

Climbing a trail, a pathway, 

Life’s a journey, 

We’re not meant to trek alone.

—–

There’s a meaning in life, 

We’re meant to —

Love largely, with our entirety. 

—–

Our hearts can bear grief, 

Only so much, 

Let’s both share our burdens. 

—-

Love gives meaning to the —

World ; and love —

Hasn’t ruined me; I survive. 

—–

Through pain and hardship, loss —

I’ve managed to —

Go on –light endures all. 

—–

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Writing

November Notes: Poem – Day 10 –  Tanka – “Air Space” #amwriting #novembernotes #music #poetry


Today’s prompt song is “Air” by Rayvon Owen. 

——

“Air” – Rayvon Owen

———

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

Holding onto air, 

Nothing even their, it’s all–

Turning into air.

Can’t make something from nothing. 

Can’t take back time, do-over. 

—–

Your silhouette, 

It’s disappearing into —

Air so thin, can’t breath. 

All we have is a shattered–

Empty past, hanging by a thread. 

—–

We were never whole, 

The definition of good. 

We were always flawed, 

We never healed, didn’t —

Accept, when we saw the end. 

——

Splinters of glass hurt, 

When embedded in my skin, 

Pieces of the past, 

They’re a pain felt rawly, 

A pain that doesn’t improve.

——

The clock ticking by, 

You grasp for my form — I’m air, 

You can keep trying. 

You know your holding thin air, 

Us, we’re gone, invisible. 

——

Let the lights burn out, 

We can’t raise what’s  cold and dead. 

The past remains gone, 

Stop holding onto air, it —

Isn’t real; we’ve both dissolved.

——

Life’s not fair, I’m sure —

Later we’ll know we did right. 

Now we gasp for air, 

Let conversation cease, fade. 

Nothing to say, it’s been said. 

——

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016)All Rights Reserved.