Current Events, Event, Fiction, History, La' Tuine - A, B, C, D -last lines all same rhyme for each stanza 9,8,9,8 syllables, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Wrapped Refrain, Writing

Day 26- NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – “Under the Same Moon” #poetry #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #future


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write about wondering what “future archaeologists, whether human or from an alien civilization, will make of us . . . exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.” Thanks to Michael of last week’s Tale Weavers from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie who provided a prompt about the moon. As well for A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s quote the letter today is the letter W. 


The Moon
Credit: Michael – MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie

” . . . All that is now / [a]ll that is gone/ [a]ll that’s to come / and everything under the sun is in tune/ but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

“There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it’s all dark.”
Roger Waters


Gazing into the future, ‘neath a pale moon gleaming bright,

Hard to believe, people who were, saw the same moon’s shining light.

They had houses, electricity.

So many ethnicities.

It’s different now, the gene pool changed,

Those who look unique all estranged.

All look like us, all brown eyes, dark hair, and medium skin too.

I can scarce picture blond, red-haired, green eyes, or eyes so blue.


Genetic defects they called them, so now we’re all plain, the same,

It’s weird to think, they dyed their hair, all colors, none went gray.

How was it to be individual,

Not for the whole good — sacrificial.

What makes a person now is,

Incredibly different knowing this —

Society of people who fell as those before left their cities,

Frames of what once was, rusted metal, not all that pretty.


Their language full of slang, we cannot pin down lingiustics,

Cannot find words, spoken globally, their lyrics I sing.

But their music is strange, listened —

To some and our technology it fits.

Technology they had weird, but we —

Discover strange things, sound gleaned.

Words not understandable but melodies clear and bright,

 Music is forbidden, I sing in secrecy to ancient tunes light.


Some days we watch their stories, their films, when the moon is round.

My favorite days, those brilliant plays, words with lovely sound.

And we find little toys, scrapbooks, phones,

While in the distance the guns drone.

Each man, each woman a soldier,

Controlled by who knows? With no souls.

No hope as those gone far ago had, of a war ending soon,

Gazing into the future, we lived under the same moon.


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©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. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Free Verse, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 12 – NaPoWriMo/ A to Z Challenge/FFfAW: Poem – Free Verse – “The River’s Course” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #poetry #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo is to “write a poem that explicitly incorporates alliteration (the use of repeated consonant sounds) and assonance (the use of repeated vowel sounds).” For A to Z Challenge the GoodReads quote is from the letter L. As well, thanks to Pricless Joy for hosting FFftAW.


Water and Rocks FFftAW
Credit: Maria of Doodles and Scribbes

“The thing about love is that you will never run out of it. It’s an ever-flowing river. So go ahead and LOVE. What are you saving all this love for — death?”
Kamand Kojouri


 

The river she flows fluent, flourishing in her mad descent,

Rapids, water reeling past rocks leading her to a path of providence.

Fast, and fleet, a river rivaling; I’ve experienced —

On the weary trail, the river cutting, crushing the rocks.

She carves her path, ploughing silt to the shore,

Debris of dramatic, erosion deciding on the the crooked carved path.

The water, she must flow, finding her fabulous spark in the light of —

Lumionous sunlight, searing in the afternoon heat.

For this river runs through the desert, the orange, organic trails,

Mixed with red-rock, rizing in the Arizona afternoon.

Cliffs creating a canyon so deep and wide, where the water dances through.

No one to stop her destruction of rock, her pounding so hard it hurts,

But the river rivals all, keeps on carving her way —

Through the canyon cringing, when she chops off more silt.

Off its brilliant fire, she finds a place where the —

River rests in waterfalls crashing and carniverous,

Then she wanes as she reaches shore and and lays back breathing,

At ease, she is pleased and settles,

Against the sand of some beach, somewhere; she’s oblivious —

Simply sliding against sand,

No more cutting of solid rock required,

Tranquility is in the tide, easing in and out,

The river finds, rests with her lover,

Her and the shore are silent heart beats.


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Are Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poetry – Octain Refrain – “Three Lights” #amwritng #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——

Credit: A Mixed Bag

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

A night deep, the black ink deftly hiding, 

Criminals, the lost, truly evil find. 

Misdeeds better performed where every sound —

Is a nightmare calling, no justice found. 

Unrevealed secrets proffered, ungrounded, 

Realization of innocents expounding

Out here ‘neath stars, curse of night, hurt resides. 

Three light in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black ’round, 

Presence of luminescence, rats scatter . 

Lights are strong, don’t flicker, they matter. 

Bring attention to the wounded, those drowned

All their sorrows piling-up —burdens

Shine your light thrice, save them for certain. 

Demonstrate there’s another way clattering

Sing songs of broken hearts; at last they’re found. 

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round.

—–

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round.

Though we may fear darkness, here there’s no need, 

As long as there’s light radiant, just heed. 

Never let your fears overcome, light resounds, 

Washes out creepersshadows; it centres.  

Gives hope for tomorrow, transformed life mends

Malevolence abounds, stay grounded

Light always wins —brilliance all precedes. 

Three lights in the darkness, pitch black all ’round. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.


alouette, History, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality

Poem: Alouette – “The Past Dying”


 

womanmulticolourface
Credit: Tory K Webb

To you who chips at

My heart who just sat,

With your friends drinking coffee,

Not paying notice,

I guess I’m not quote:

‘A girl who cares you’re lofty.’

*****

I’m not a step near,

For you to but snear.

My presence unwanted your,

Affect forever,

Something severed.

Piece of me died you deploring.

*****

Not all experiences,

Are helpful; hence,

They’re moments disregarding,

All I’ve learned,

Thoughts which make me squirm,

My insides, wretched, I’m left scarred.

*****

You don’t feel so wrong,

Moving to your own song.

Admitting it was about looks,

How attractive you were,

I the ‘disturbed‘ girl.

Went home; didn’t return took –

*****

Other roads, castles

Of sand, no hassle.

I’ve nothing from you I want.

You’re but old history,

Learning experience stripped.

Walking my paths, undaunted.

*****

You’ve gone, gone gone; I’m —

Just swell; days ‘neath time,

Never fully heal, but let —

Old days die in past,

Wither at a glance.

Survivor, blessed delighter.

*****

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts, Poetry, Shadorma - 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Word High July, Writing

Poem: Shadorma – “Worry Not” #wordhighjuly #introtopoetry


The prompt for Poetry 101 is water. I’m doing a Shadorma with 3, 5, 3, 3, 7, 5 syllables. It is Day 2: July 2 for Word High July.

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——–

http://www.picturequotes.com

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A glass of, 

Water poured is clear, 

We drink it.

Leave water, 

Half-way in the glass, half-full?

Half-empty?

—–

You never, 

Replied, never said why?

My vantage, 

Of water, 

Mattered to you so much; you’re mad.

Pessimist.

—–

A fight breaks, 

It’s only water and, 

I can pour, 

It back in, 

The sink, an empty glass.

Your glare smarts.

—–

Argument, 

Just water hon; not, 

As if we, 

Are without

It; as in some countries, 

They are parched.

—-

Where’s your thought, 

When you speak angrily,

It’s me here.

And I drink, 

Entire glass, leaving drop not.

I’m quenched.

—-

Yet thirsty, 

For you to,

Have self-control and, 

Not be mad, 

Offended, 

By my optimism.

I’m realist.

—–

I’m telling, 

You the truth, relax.

Half-full or —

Half -empty, 

It’s all in the timing of —

Life lived.

——

Timpi, calm,

Whatever storms rise, 

We’ll overcome, 

Control thoughts, 

Don’t worry of unlikely,

Scenario.

—–

Let the wind, 

Summer breeze and heat, 

Relax your,

Tense soul and —

Think of each day as it comes, 

Be tranquil.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Beauty, Daily Prompt, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Shadorma - 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Shadorma – “Beauty Reveals All” 


Thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt word Sing. Today’s poem will be a Shadorma. A Shadorma poem is a sestet with no set rhymes. But there is a syllable pattern of 3/5/3/3/7/5 in each sestet. Thank you to Manan and Rosema for information on this type of poetry. Check-out their Shadormas in their links provided.

——–

http://www.nextshark.com

———

Only when,

You see the proof will —

You believe.

You do not–

Believe inside; with your heart,

You’ve no vision there.

—–

I sing about, 

A day when I will —

Finally–

Reveal all.

Maybe the day will never —

Come; maybe you’ll grow up.

—–

You can be —

Childlike and innocent, 

Be young at —

Heart and laugh, 

But you’ve a complicated–

Way of showing youth.

—-

You’re not young, 

You’re older then mountains, 

Crumbling,

You’ve gone soft, 

There’s no back bone in your body, 

Perhaps, you’re a snake.

But maybe, 

This is only rage —

Passed down from, 

All the years, 

I’ve thought, what to sing,

Attractive face hides.

—–

Don’t you know, 

It’s what I’ve learned from —

You and them.

A handsome —

Face, can mask, multitude of —

Sins; dishonesty.

—–

I’m not sure, 

Who I will meet one —

Day; the liar? 

Or a man, 

Learn-ed from, mistakes in life; 

Beauty sings, reveals.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Nonfiction, Poetry, Rondel - ABba abAB abbaA, Short Stories And Serial Stories

Poem: Rondel – “Couldn’t See the Writing.”


Thanks to The Daily Post for the word prompt handwriting.

—–

 

http://www.youtube.com

——-

You couldn’t see the writing,

Handwritten on the stoney wall.

It was obvious to us all.

You didn’t think it was inciting.

—–

Ignoring the truth, kept fighting.

The handwriting marks your fall.

You couldn’t see the writing,

Handwritten on the stoney walls.

—–

No chewing the hand, biting —

The hand that feeds you at your call.

Stop being stupid, no more walls.

Look cursive hand it enlightens.

You couldn’t see the writing. .  .

——

In the past I wrote an article on the most recent James Bond film Spectre and it’s theme song “The Writing’s on the Wall” by Sam Smith. I went into the background of the saying. You might find this piece interesting. Please visit the blog post here: Writings on the Wall.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Minute - 8,4,4,4 aabb ccdd eeff, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Writing

Poem: Minute – ” The Same”


Thanks to the Daily Prompt for the word prompt contrast.

—–

Colours contrast, art and design;

Red, green –resign.

Orange,blue–engage.

Purple, yellow — wage.

—-

Entirety of contrast beams,

Nature can seem,

All opposite,

Mother Earth split.

—-

People, studied in contrasts too.

Different, you?

Just be human.

In that the same.

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved. 

Poetry, Writing

Poetry – Disappointment


If you could feel a quiver of what I feel,
You wouldn’t feel anything at all, there’s a numbness it’s spreading like quicksilver.
And there is wonder as I question why I keep letting you back in to break the newness, the vitality, the stability I have gained while you were away.
And I wonder what I’m feeling now because it’s a strange ice cold feeling akin to fear.
This numbness is humbling and it’s showing me, you say you’ll change, but your actions show differently.
And I’m not willing to put up with your fumbling anymore, I know what I need.
Maybe it’s time you grow up little boy before the end of your nose grows Pinocchio.
Time to stop the cycle and fess up. We’ve been here a long long time and we still sit as still as cats waiting to pounce on their prey, but you never pounce — where’s your bounce?
Where does a relationship fit into all your plans, why can’t you just tell them to me?
Have pity, I’m exhausted pulling the wool from your eyes, I’m to tired to put together the puzzles you would have me fit together.
And the voice of a future drowns, gurgling as you chew your food down.
I’m still numb to everything. I thought you learned.
Silly child that is me, don’t you know men don’t change their always little boys at heart.
Silly girl, life’s a game, and your losing at this game of thrones.
You might get to sit on a stool and quietly contemplate better days or dream of days when birds had wings and eagles flew us over banks and rows, casting rapid eye and talons as claws, and gently lifting up those of us that fell.
A muted caw saying, ” I understand all.”

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