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.

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#OctPoWriMo Day 31/Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem — “Plain Sight” #amwritingpoetry #SundayWritingPrompt #MLMM


For OctPoWriMo Day 31 the Prompt is the word endless. I’m combining with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt based on the Sylvia Plath letter quote: “I talk to God, but the sky is empty.” so glad to be done OctPoWriMo two-months later. It took awhile, but I’m happy it’s done in time for Christmas. Lol.


Credit: Paulo Brandao via Unsplash


Words in the tumbled breeze,

Chatter of birds in early light;

Blinding my ears to fright.

Intense azure glows, I cover my eyes;

It burns, it burns,

What a fright, what a fright.

Restless, my ears ringing as if I’ve spent all night,

With giant speakers, there jarring blare.

And oh, my eyes how they sting,

Such terrible light blinds me in fear.

How can such gleaming light be wonderful?

For me, it’s a curse.

No afternoon delight, but hellish nightmare.

The hammer’s swift; I the rock pit —

It’s pulsing, the rhythmic pain seething.

Lips moaning pleas,

Make it stop, but its unceasing.

Not after strong coffee as my stomach lurches,

Nor over toast I spit-out disgusted.

My skin, elephant tusks envy such paler.

No wine or liquor could cause,

A tinge so blue as the veins in my wrist.

Such hopelessness,

A putrid cycle of faithlessness.

Once I believed, now I am lost;

Lamb to the slaughter, must I too sputter?

Have my heart carved,

Gurgling water, blood in the tide.

But the tawny bird near my ear,

He flew inside my broken pane.

He cocks his stubborn head,

Eyes rapid; he mutters, words pained.

His left wing slops,

Tossed from the nest, now he rests near me.

I’ve not the heart to twist his neck,

Though his wing be his death.

But oh, he chirps, eyes rapid,

He sings despite his tepid clawed-steps.

Tiny talons gripping my pillow.

He sings, peers outside,

Aware he can’t fly;

We both can’t.

So, we stare in confusion,

Peering at each other, eye to eye.

Both defenselessness,

We know will soon be cut down.

Yet, while I groan, bird tweets,

The funniest chirps, as if conversing.

He’s livid until I arise, bring him a saucer;

Sups his water, munches sunflower seeds.

He try’s to flutter, my heart leaps —

He flails to the floor.

His eyes see cerulean horizons,

Not wretched revolt.

I’m mad at God,

He made the bird disabled.

But as I curse — bird’s tawny head shakes, beak twerps.

It occurs to me,

He sees more than ‘something’ out there.

If he can chatter at me unperturbed by my size,

Then, fling himself towards the sky —

Only to fall,

Perhaps than, faith can also fly again?

If God can mend my wounded heart,

With nails, grit embedded deep,

Can my feathered mate,

Have his wing set straight?

Perhaps, yes?

Then we can both soar,

And peer to the azure, the Heavens.

Recognize that this ‘something,’

Isn’t intangible, isn’t hiding,

It’s in plain sight,

Crystalline truth sudden,

In opulent morning breeze.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo 2018 Day 1/ Sunday Writing Prompt/ #PhotoChallenge: Poem – “Death’s Twilight” #amwritingpoetry


For OctPoWriMo Day 1 the theme is surrender. I’m combining with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt on the poem, “Lady Lazarus” by Sylvia Plath. Also, using a photo prompt from NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie.


Credit: Natalia Ruka

She rises, you think she’d shrink,

Lose her footing with knobby bones, bloody footprints;

But, she’s a miracle and survives despite —

The annihilation of her heart.

No surrender, no train cars full of the sick and dying;

No camps of death will kill her.

She won’t surrender, she’ll paint you a dream,

A masterpiece of despair and scribbled features.

A portrait or less, no seashell rocking shut;

She rasps, vapours of her lost innocence.

Herr who?

With battered purple sockets.

Herr who?

A dream or nightmare trawling.

I have no dreams of innocence, only a suffering spitefulness for your hate.

Words that shattered the cracked mirror,

Seventy times seven bad luck.

Herr who?

Miss Plath, your words are riddled traps.

Herr who?

She fakes death, blood and bone snapped;

Flesh from hands shredded.

Your terror camps and eyes of sunken sin,

Can’t make her alive, though she’s not yet, dead.

Be on guard for those caught in-between;

Those who aren’t afraid as the breath in their lungs rattles.

Beware of those who see death and leave life;

The exact meeting of one leaving the elevator, while the other travels home.

Beware of hair as hellfire, she the angel of death;

No surrender, for none was given her.

Beware her yawning grin,

And hollow eyes as she devours men like air;

Destiny with her twisted wings,

Her opalescent fluttering, a sheen that hides the bitter.

Her charcoal hands twitching as they sketch the twilight of death.


“Lady Lazarus” by Sylvia Plath

*****

I have done it again.

One year in every ten

I manage it——

A sort of walking miracle, my skin

Bright as a Nazi lampshade,

My right foot

A paperweight,

My face a featureless, fine

Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin

O my enemy.

Do I terrify?——

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?

The sour breath

Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh

The grave cave ate will be

At home on me

And I a smiling woman.

I am only thirty.

And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.

What a trash

To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.

The peanut-crunching crowd

Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot——

The big strip tease.

Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands

My knees.

I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.

The first time it happened I was ten.

It was an accident.

The second time I meant

To last it out and not come back at all.

I rocked shut

As a seashell.

They had to call and call

And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying

Is an art, like everything else.

I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.

I do it so it feels real.

I guess you could say I’ve a call.

It’s easy enough to do it in a cell.

It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.

It’s the theatrical

Comeback in broad day

To the same place, the same face, the same brute

Amused shout:

‘A miracle!’

That knocks me out.

There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge

For the hearing of my heart——

It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge

For a word or a touch

Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.

So, so, Herr Doktor.

So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,

I am your valuable,

The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.

I turn and burn.

Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—

You poke and stir.

Flesh, bone, there is nothing there——

A cake of soap,

A wedding ring,

A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer

Beware

Beware.

Out of the ash

I rise with my red hair

And I eat men like air.


©️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.

Interview with Christine Ray: Writer, Blogger, Poet, and Barista from the Go Dog Go Cafe #amwriting #interview #nonfiction


Welcome to another Tuesday edition of my interviews series. Today I have another new interview for you, a talented writer, poet and a Go Do Go Cafe  Barista, Christine Ray. 

I hope you love her blog I have found it fascinating. You can check out some of Christine’s wonderful writing on the topics of Poetry, Erotica, Spoken Word,  and for you newbies out there, B & R Advice for New Bloggers.

Before we go any further, I need to introduce Christine’s blog as a whole, it’s called: Brave and Reckless.


Christine Ray
Credit: Christine Ray

1. Please Tell Us About Yourself, Christine? 

My name is Christine Ray and I’m from Havertown, Pennsylvania (outside of Philadelphia). I blog at Brave and Reckless. I feel as if sometimes I should call myself the ‘accidental blogger!’ I came to the WordPress blog site to do one piece of writing called: What Every Woman Knows. The piece is based on rape culture, sexual harassment, and sexual trauma and is, sadly, more relevant now more than ever.

Writing that one post literally changed my whole life. I rediscovered that I loved writing. I also love to write poetry and I’m thrilled to be part of an active writing community. My blogging goals include continuing to grow and strengthen Secret First Draft, the Go Dog Go Café and Blood Into Ink, all projects that are very near and dear to my heart.


2. Do You Have Any Particular Blogging Goals or Things You Want to Accomplish? 

My first goal is to simply improve my writing skills maintain writing as a daily habit.  When I started blogging, the deal I made with myself was simply to write 10 minutes a day. I had the option of writing a new piece from scratch, working on an ongoing project, or editing a piece of writing.

The idea was that I develop discipline and prioritize my writing. I am involved with a lot of other collaborative blogs. And sometimes my own personal writing keeps moving further down the priority list than it should be moving.

Additionally, I’m registered for a course about writing child and young adult literature in the Fall that I’m really excited about.  The thought of a low-residency program to earn a Masters in Fine Arts has crossed my mind a time or two (or maybe ten!!).


“My first goal is to simply improve my writing skills maintain writing as a daily habit.  When I started blogging, the deal I made with myself was simply to write 10 minutes a day. I had the option of writing a new piece from scratch, working on an ongoing project, or editing a piece of writing.” – Christine Ray


3. When Did You Begin Writing or Blogging and Why? What Does Writing Mean to You? 

I honestly can’t remember how old I was when I began writing but I was definitely scrawling short stories into dog-eared notebooks in middle school. As well, I started writing poetry as a teenager.  I was also the editor of my high school newspaper and my senior yearbook.

Nevertheless, I have taken long breaks from writing when life has become busy but it has always been something I come back to when I’m in transition. I turned fifty-years-old in 2016 which was a major life reassessment period for me. Writing became a primary method for me to work through my feelings. 

Finding my voice again as a writer has been really powerful, though to be honest, I think other people took me seriously as a writer long before I did.  There were most definitely several months where I transitioned from when I thought about myself as a middle-aged woman (who happened to write), to identifying myself as a writer and a poet, being who I am today.

Writing has become, and honest, always has been an essential part of my identity. As well, began my blog: Brave and Reckless on October 8, 2016.


4. Where do you Find Your Inspiration and Motivation to Continue Writing? Why is it Significant for you to Continue Writing and Blogging? 

I find inspiration everywhere. Music is a big part of my writing process and song lyrics frequently inspire my work but I’ve also been inspired by movies (Paterson is amazing); TV (you’d be amazed how much poetry there is in American Gods); beer menus, conversations with other people, and currently, a collaboration with Aurora Phoenix inspires and motivates me. The collaboration began in the comments section in one of my blog posts.

This sounds silly when I say it out loud, but when I started this particular blog in October, I had no idea that I had anything to say! The vast majority of my writing is inspired by exactly what is going on in my emotional life, in the moment. Sometimes I approach writing about those things obliquely, but often what you see is a direct reflection of my experiences during the day.

One of the most transformative experiences of blogging for me was realizing my writing resonates with other people. Every time someone writes to me and tells me that I captured exactly what they were feeling, but couldn’t articulate it, is an incentive for me to keep up with my writing.  

Every time someone writes to thank me for writing openly about depression, suicide, PTSD, or trauma, it is incentive to keep writing.  Feeling like I can still make a positive impact keeps me writing and blogging. I feel that I can make a positive impact on other people by continuing to write and blog because it helps other people, not only myself. 


“Every time someone writes to thank me for writing openly about depression, suicide, PTSD, or trauma, it is incentive to keep writing.  Feeling like I can still make a positive impact keeps me writing and blogging. I feel that I can make a positive impact on other people by continuing to write and blog because it helps other people, not only myself.” – Christine Ray 


Rawpixel.com UnSplash
Credit: Rawpixel.com via UnSplash

5. Do you have any Particular Writing or Blogging Habits? What do you Enjoy Most About Writing? Is there a Time of Day you Prefer to Write?

I have a busy life and have discovered that the only way to fit writing and blogging into my life is to awake at 4:00 a.m. From 4:00 a.m to 6: 00 a.m. I write, I answer blog related comments and emails, I record ‘Spoken Word’ versions of my writing, and see to editorial duties.

As well, I have been known to write whole pieces in the Google Docs app on my phone during my commute on the bus or train. I also eat lunch at my desk, at work, and try to catch up on reading other people’s blogs.  At times, I’m still awake at 10:00 p.m. doing blog related activities and tending to my own writing. I must admit that I’m tired right now. However,  I expect things to calm down a bit over the upcoming summer months.


6. Can you Tell us About your Most Current Writing Projects on your Blog or Outside of it? 

In addition to writing and publishing daily, I’ve been running various writing challenges on my blog.  This week I challenged readers to write about a life experience using ten objects and will be publishing my favorites on my ‘Brave and Reckless’ blog. I’ve already committed to two Writing Prompt Challenges and have my third occurring now using the prompt: “I Am More Than Breath and Bones.”

I do publish some of my work, the pieces I call “the softer side of Christine”—on Poetry Corner. I’m also happily involved as a Barista at the Go Dog Go Café.  It’s been fun to put the site together and to work with a  lovely cadre of writers, some of whom I’ve met and some of whom are new to me. The Cafe has a wonderful community vibe and brings out the best in writers.

My most recent project was launching Blood Into Ink  (with a group of writers from WordPress and off of it).’Blood Into Ink’ has a safe and respectful environment for stories of survival to be told. It gives a home for stories from those who have lived through sexual abuse, rape, physical abuse, emotional abuse, child neglect, domestic violence, and other forms of trauma. The focus of the blog is to discover our ‘warrior voices’ by telling our truths. 

It is open to men and women and already features some pretty fierce writing.  I am proud of this project and hope that it encourages many writers to tell their stories and aids them in receiving the support and respect they deserve for their stories of survival and dealing with them after the fact.

Also, I’m working on a project called Whisper and the Roar, a feminist literary collective site. I am still an author for Whisper and the Roar. All of the writers on this site are feminist but the content is not overtly feminist. I piece I wrote for this particular site is called “Ode to a Black Eye.” Such as many of my pieces, this post is autobiographical (my childhood friend Wendy had the black eye and we finally talked about the incident when we reconnected on Facebook.


Blood Into Ink’ has a safe and respectful environment for stories of survival to be told. It gives a home for stories from those who have lived through sexual abuse, rape, physical abuse, emotional abuse, child neglect, domestic violence, and other forms of trauma. The focus of the blog is to discover our ‘warrior voices’ by telling our truths.” – Christine Ray


7. Have you Published any Writing or Poetry outside of your Blog? If not do you plan to in the Future? 

I recently had a couple of pieces of poetry published in Felan Magazine which has lit a fire under me to publish more writing into print. Felan centers its issues around a particular feeling so it was easy to pull my best pieces about Anger (Issue 10) and Love (Issue 11). 


8. Can you Briefly Describe to us Your Writing Process? Are there Certain Genres of Writing and Reading You Prefer? 

The vast majority of my writing happens on my PC in the early morning hours with music playing in the background. Some of my work happens on my phone on the train.  Some it is sprawled into notebooks until I have time to type it up. I’ve been known to write a poem or two during long and dull meetings at work (hopefully none of my co-workers are reading this).

Poetry is definitely my primary form of written expression but I do write some prose, some short fiction, and essays. As a reader, I tend to joke that I will read the back of a cereal box if nothing else is handy! I’m obsessed with Jane Austen (I’ve got a Jane Austen quote as a tattoo) and I’ve read the Harry Potter series a ridiculous amount of times.  I love psychological British mysteries,  Young Adult literature, as well as, science fiction, and fantasy. All in all, I’m a serious book nerd!


“Poetry is definitely my primary form of written expression but I do write some prose, some short fiction, and essays. As a reader, I tend to joke that I will read the back of a cereal box if nothing else is handy!” – Christine Ray


Nicole Jones UnSplash
Credit: Nicole Jones via UnSplash

9. Do you have any Wisdom for Other Bloggers and Writers?

Make writing a daily habit even if you can only dedicate ten minutes a day. Write what you like to read! Find writers whose work you like and follow them too! Check out those who follow your blog—you may like their blog too!

Also, don’t obsess about numbers. Fifteen extremely engaged followers are more rewarding than two-hundred disengaged writers. Be brave and leave thoughtful comments on other people’s writing. I have picked up a lot of followers this way. Most vitally, I have made excellent friends by commenting on the writing/blogs of other people. 

In addition, I recommend subscribing and responding to the Daily Post. I want everyone who writes and/or blog to know that their voice matters and their truths matter too. Don’t worry about your audience, worry about what you need to say.

There are twelve million people on WordPress—your people (your followers) are out there. You may need to look for them, but there is someone out there who wants to read what you have to say.


10. Is there Anything Else you Want to Share, something you think is Pertinent to Writing or Yourself? 

One crazy thing that happened to me in May is that one of my pieces was chosen for featuring as WordPress Discover blog called: Brave and Reckless Advice for New Bloggers – Part One.  I went from 164 views on May 1st to 2,439 views on May 2nd. It was thrilling and terrifying all at the same time!

Things have calmed down a little but I spent three days replying to all the comments I received! I still don’t know how the WordPress editors found me or that piece. However, I try to use my newfound readership for good and give lots of other really good writers exposure on Brave and Reckless (I feel like I should be quoting Spiderman or something here)!


“Make writing a daily habit even if you can only dedicate ten minutes a day. Write what you like to read! Find writers whose work you like and follow them too! Check out those who follow your blog—you may like their blog too!” – Christine Ray


11. For fun, do you Have Any Especially Favorite Bloggers that you Love to Follow? 

There are so many blogs that I love! My big writing crushes are:

  • The Feathered Sleep — Candice Louisa Daquin’s writing is elegant, exquisite, and emotionally resonant.
  • A Journal for Damned Lovers — Nicholas is gritty and dark and never glamorizes life, love or himself.  He takes you on journeys into the human psyche that you didn’t even know you wanted to go one. He appeals to my darkness and I want to grow up and write like SK someday!
  • The Lithium Chronicles –Nicole Lyons and the other poets she highlights on her site are badass warriors! There is an electricity to Nicole’s work, a buzz that gets under my skin, and into my blood. Some of her writing is similar to what could be pulled from own diaries.
  • Additionally, all of the writers at the collectives I work with are amazing and deserving of a read.

12. Can You Please Share with us a few of Your Favorite Pieces from your Blogging? 

Poet’s Love Song

by

Christine Ray

*****

Christine Ray = MM photo
Credit: From Christine’s Ray’s Blog ‘Brave and Reckless” for this post.

*****

I see you

Yes, you poet

You who lives

Behind the misty veil

Dwelling in the border

Between this world

And a hundred other

Shadow worlds

*****

see you

*****

see those ink-stained

Fingers

That hold your pen

Like a lover

That fly across the keyboard

In a torrent

Before stopping, hesitating

Waiting

For the flow of words to resume

*****

see the permanent rings

Countless cups of coffee

Have left on your writing table

The chip in your favorite mug

I see the frayed fabric

On your cuffs

Of your favorite writing shirt

The fabric worn thin at your elbows

*****

see those mesmerizing eyes

That seem to simultaneously

Be looking through me

Straight into my soul

While studying the cosmos

And gazing inward

All at the same time

see the contradictions you are

Your eyes are haunting

Full of knowing

Full of pain

Full of longing

*****

see the dark smudges

Under your otherworldly eyes

Reminders that poets

Are night dwellers

Insomniacs

Who haunt the still hours

Who understand the depth

The texture of darkness

Who can capture the qualities

The acoustics of silence

*****

see the way

That words spill out of

Your sensuous mouth

Like pearls, like diamonds

Beautiful treasures

Embedded with your tears

Your sweat, your blood

*****

Yes poet

see you

You who makes me fall

In love with language

Over and over

Whose words

Stab me in the heart

Punch me in the gut

Jangle my nerves

Bathe me in your radiance

Soothe my weary soul

Take me on a journey

I didn’t even know

I wanted to go on

*****

And you are beautiful

*****

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved



Thank you so much to Christine Ray for being so detailed and open sharing her writing and poetry with us on my blog and on the Go Do Go Cafe. If you would like to be featured as a writer, blogger, or person who is blogging/writing about a cause please reach out to me through my contact page. Next week`s interview will be a ‘Rewind Interview,’ a blogger I’ve interviewed in the past.


©Mandibelle16. (2017). All Rights Reserved.

Interview With Deborah Glover #interview #nonfiction #writer #amwriting #blogger


Welcome to another edition of my bi-weekly interviews. I’m sorry this is a week late but better late than never eh? Anyways, I’m excited to share with you the beautiful, kind, and talented writer and blogger, Deborah Glover from the blog: BookyGLover.


Interview DebGlover
Credit: Deb Glover

1. Please Tell Us About Yourself? 

 

My name is Deborah (Booky Glover). I am from Ondo state, Nigeria, but I live in Lagos. I am a Choleric/Melancholic, my parents first child,  and with that position comes responsibilities. I am a teacher by profession and a writer by passion. I’m also a Christian. and a foodie who reads, writes, listens to music and loves to make new friends. I began my blog writing for my eyes only in 2005 but began blogging for anyone to visit starting in July of 2015.


2. What Does Writing and Blogging Mean To You? 

Writing is a means of expressing myself. Whatever I am feeling, thinking of, or going through, I can write about it. Writing became more important to me when I began to experience unpleasantness in life. It became my means of surviving. I wrote down my pain and anger and all this writing made me feel better. It helped me see that the things I was going through were not quite as bad as I thought. Writing my thoughts down also gave me understanding about my situation and a different perspective.


“Writing became more important to me when I began to experience unpleasantness in life. It became my means of surviving. I wrote down my pain and anger and all this writing made me feel better.” – Deb Glover


3. Where do you Find Your Inspiration and Motivation to Write? Do You Find There Is A Time of Day You Enjoy Writing Most?

Life is my motivation. I see people, I listen to their tales and in the stillness, the words come to me. After I start writing, I don’t stop writing until I feel my flow of thought is cut off. Music is inspirational as well. 

I don’t have a particular time I prefer writing. There are times when I wake early in the morning with the intention of writing and nothing comes out. At these times, writing becomes a chore and I write a lot of nonsense.

But, there are times when I’m walking down the road and a line comes to me, or many words rush into my mind. In those times, I pick up my pen and book and scribble beside the road. Other times I write in the receptionist office while I wait for a job interview. I write at odd times and I’ve learned to keep a paper and pen with me at all times, even at my bed side.


4. What is Your Most Current Writing Project? Have You Published Any Writing or Are Your Planning to Publish Any?

I’m working on a book. It’s a novel. I have been really lazy in working on it but in good time I’ll finish it. I have a complete Novella. It needs editing work, a book cover, and then publishing. However, I feel skeptical about it. I completed the novella back in 2014. 


“Life is my motivation. I see people, I listen to their tales and in the stillness, the words come to me. After I start writing, I don’t stop writing until I feel my flow of thought is cut off.” – Deb Glover


 

InterviewDebGlover2
Credit: Deborah Glover

5. What Kind of Publishing Are You Considering? What Is Your Process of Writing Like? 

I have books I have read on publishing a book and I’ve chosen to self-publish online before publishing paperback novels. The first book I publish might be free.

 My writing process begins when a thought drops into my mind and I write until the flow of ideas stops. Then I leave my work for a while — a few hours, a day or more — then I return to it to edit or see what can be made better in the story. For the stories or poems I write on my blog site, they are mostly unplanned. I write as the inspiration comes. I write for myself and hope that someone out there can relate to what I am feeling or what my feelings manifest as.


6. Do Prefer Certain Areas of Writing or Reading? Do You Have Favorite Genres? Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers? 

I like reading historical romances, detective books, poetry, African writers (mainstream), and sometimes I read Christian books. Apart from these genres, I read pretty much anything as long as it is a book. I only fling a book to the corner of the room when I’m halfway through the book and it is not making sense yet. I like to give every book I choose to read a chance.

Advice for other writers would be: Write. Write to please yourself. No one has written the exact way you write, no one has seen the world the way you see it. No one will put it down the way you would.


  “My writing process begins when a thought drops into my mind and I write until the flow of ideas stops. Then I leave my work for a while — a few hours, a day or more — then I return to it to edit or see what can be made better in the story.” – Deb Glover


7. Is There Anything Else You Would Like to Share With Us Pertinent to Writing or Yourself? 

Every writer shares bits and pieces of herself/himself. We are after all everyday people. I find out that when those bits slip into my work, I produce something beautiful. A work that makes me ask myself, ‘Did I really write something that good?”


8. Please Share With Us Your Top Three Favorite Blogs:  

  • Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha — Jacqueline’s posts vary from poetry, fiction, personal issues, to photography. She hosts blogging parties and I’ve always enjoyed meeting new bloggers through them.
  •  Sweet Aroma — Oneta Hayes is a great-grandma who is passionate about life, living, Christianity, humanity, and most importantly, she shows me how to be a better person through her comments on my blog posts. She’s one awesome woman!
  • Adebisi Olatunji FeminineMaterz — Adebisi does not write so much poetry but she shares the reality of our world in regards to the viewpoints of a woman. She dabbles in story writing and so far, it has been fun following her blog.

 P.S – Most of the blogs I follow are awesome and I could talk about each of them and tell you how beautiful they make my day.


9. Please Share With Us Some of Your Favorite Links from Your Blog:

Keep Moving Forward

By Deborah Glover

*****

“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

One-Liner Wednesday.

*****

Thank God, I’ve been a lot better. I am taking each day with all the bravery and courage my little heart can muster. I recently have had issues with my phone and this makes blogging, writing, or reading a chore. I have abandoned my e-books for paperbacks and long hours of chatting has changed into hours of reading my Bible and reading books I have not touched or opened in two years.

The words of Martin Luther King Jr. keep ringing in my heart. I have to keep moving forward. This quote has been my father’s favorite. We have had tough times in the family and he always said the quote below to me. He would quote Martin Luther King Jr words.

I won’t give up. You shouldn’t give up too.

Until next time,

Blessings!


“Booky, I won’t say there are problems so I won’t make an effort to be better. I have to keep investing time in my career, my vision and you have to do the same. If you can’t run, you walk….” — Mr. Glover (Deborah’s Dad)


Here Are Three More Links from Deborah’s Blog to Read:

 


Thank you so much to Deborah for sharing her writing and bits of her life with us. I appreciate her wanting to be interviewed and hope she is happy with the results. I am looking forward her novella and current novel, being published through self-publishing or otherwise. Here is the link to Deborah’s blog one more time: BookyGLover.

If you are a writer or blogger who would like to be interviewed for my biweekly interview series please contact me through my contact page HERE.  See you in a week, I’m going to try to get the interviews back on their every second Monday schedule. 


©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for The Purposeful Practitioner: Fiction – Her One #fiction #amwriting 


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP. 

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Credit: http://www.pixebay.com

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(I truly meant for this to be Flash Fiction, but the story just developed. Sorry about the way – over word count.) 

Grandma June huffed at Natalie, her granddaughter visiting her at home.”You’re not getting any younger, you’re thirty-eight. You can’t barely have babies anymore!” 

Natalie rolled her eyes at Grandma June,”Gran, I’m an elementary school teacher. I like going home and not having to worry about kids.” 

June sighed,”It was that man, you were supposed to marry. He’s a thief and stole your heart; I’m right aren’t I?” 

Natalie ignored June’s question. She hated when her Grandma or anyone, talked about Christopher. She’d never admit he was her one. 

He had been since she was in grade ten and Christopher an attractive senior in high school. It was when he had first asked Natalie out. They’d broken-up, having had incompatible lives with Christopher away at university soon after. 

Then, seven-years-ago, they’d ran into each other and started talking and dating again. Natalie had convinced herself this was finally it. Sadly, a few weeks before the wedding, Christopher had disappeared; the memories were agony for her. 

—–

Two-week’s later, Grandma June called Natalie up to invite her to a wine and cheese night she was hosting for her neighbours. She had tried to decline but June was adamant Natalie attend. 

She arrived at her Grandma June’s surprisingly lively wine party, in jeans and a white t-shirt. She had barely bothered to apply makeup as Natalie had come from the gym and was worn out. 

“Oh you came,” Grandma June said excitedly, approaching Natalie as she let herself inside. She hugged June and kissed her cheek, as June poured Natalie a large glass of red wine and filled her plate with bread and cheese. She winked at Natalie and left her alone in a small sitting room to rest before joining the other guests. 

“Natalie?” A deep voice said. She turned on the sofa towards the sitting room door. Christopher’s voice shocked her, she had almost doused herself in red wine. His familiar timber filled Natalie with great pain. She peered up at him feeling raw, as if he’d only left her yesterday without explanation. 

Tears began dripping down Natalie’s cheeks; she was crying and couldn’t stop herself. Christopher immediately sat down on the sofa beside Natalie and pulled her close; he wiped her tears away with his thumb. She tried to jerk out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her move. 

“I’m not letting you go, ever again,” Christopher swore.”I can’t explain much about why I had to leave you, only that I didn’t have a choice.” 

Natalie shoved him hard, “You have nothing more to say, nothing at all?” 

Christopher was noticeably upset, “I told you I worked as an IT consultant. But I could never tell you or anyone who I worked for until recently. I worked for Special Forces in the army and I was called out to a job. It’s the only thing I can’t about. The job lasted years, and I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. We saved countless lives, but it was awful what I did to you and being without you. I’m sorry.” 

Natalie rubbed her swollen eyes, “You’re a liar Christopher. You could’ve mentioned something, anything. What do you want now? To stay for a while and then leave?To rip me apart again?” 

Christopher buried his face in his hand, before gazing up at her: “I’m out now Natalie. I swear to you I work for regular businesses now, nothing to do with Special Forces or the army. I’ve no more secrets other than experiences of war and blood. I came back here for you, I even moved into a house on your Grandma June’s street. I hoped somehow, you and I could be together again. I love you.” 

Natalie made a sound of frustration. Emotions of both anger and feeling relieved assaulted her. Despite her anger at Christopher, Natalie knew inside, there would never be another man for her but him. 

To Christopher’ surprise, Natalie moved to sit in Christopher’s lap and be closer to him, to breathe in how delicious he smelt. 

“Marry me now and we can do whatever celebration our families want later. I’m still mad at you Christopher but you’re it for me. I’ve always loved you and always will. If you can be with me and never leave me like that again, I can forgive you.” 

Christopher nodded at Natalie, saying: “I promise.” He held Natalie tightly and kissed her lips hungrily

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the sitting room door and Grandma June walked in, a smile on her face. June’s boyfriend Nigel was with her and so was the local United Church minister. 

Natalie looked at Christopher, “Did you do all this?” 

Christopher shook his head, squeezing Natalie tight and kissing her cheek. He pulled out a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring set from his pocket. He slid the engagement ring on Natalie’s finger, and Grandma June handed Natalie a ring which had been her Grandfather’s wedding ring. 

June smiled at Natalie and Christopher, a gleam in her clever blue-eyes. All was at it should be, she thought as her and Nigel witnessed her granddaughter’s wedding ceremony. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

The Complexities of Red #thoughts #amwriting #nonfiction


Credit: Giovanni Licea – YouTube

I considered the colour red. How I’m equally attracted and repelled by it. How I pass by a red v-neck sweater in the right shade, but mix my acrylic colours, blend them until my instincts say stop; stop sign red. No wait . . . a bright cool startling red appears on my canvas. I think this is passion and passion is the boldest red. I think of how I not only crave to paint in vivid red, but in many vivid colours and textures. How I trace the feeling of layered paints with my fingers, and hunger for other colours with my eyes – blue, green, and purple. Though I adore all these colours, my favourite paintings are all in red.
 As with my love for sexy heels, which I adore in red too. If red is passion, what more can I say about women and sensuality then red shoes. They’re expression and fierceness. Like Kelly Picklers song “Red High Heels” — “I’m about to show you just how missing me feels, in my red high heels . . .” Red for revenge, red for moving on, red for love. But I hate red for love, it’s memory is sickening. He looked good in that colour – almost the best. 

Credit: Sam Roloff – “The Big Red One”
Yet red is so many things more. It’s anger, hate, rage, hurt, demons dreaming — the beast inside who does not die. Red is sinful, delicious, and deadly. It’s sex and power; a primilness. It’s royalty and blood, red blood spilled for in the body it’s blue (hence bluebloods). I love how classic red is — nothing more classic then a cat eye and red Bridget Bardot lips. Nothing as classic as red Mustang. 

I don’t wear red, the colour outshines me and doesn’t fit with such pale skin and blond hair. Please no red dress – I’d rather blend in and be a classic black or navy dress cut perfectly. But I seek out bits of red and cling to them, not wanting red to blind me. Only some sparkle and razzle dazzle to hold in my hand. Red nail polish is beautiful, with a bit of bling  Red as some of the lights in Las Vegas and red fireworks; red stoplights. 

Red is perplexing because it’s complex, not simple at all. Red is nationalism and red is internationalism. It’s a proud Canadian colour and I don’t mind wearing it on our Nation’s Birthday. Or cheering on our Canadian hockey teams in the Olympics and junior hockey. 

As well, roses are so divine, so deadly pricking your finger. Red, passion and pain. Together swirled these colours of red, of love, and hate collide. There are many shades of grey, but even more shades of red. It’s more than a primary colour it calls as a siren, “Look see me.” No one hides in red. Red cars are often caught barely speeding and Red is a theme of many songs albums as in “Red” as T. swifts song and album and the Beatles album “Redone.” Red as “My love is like a red red rose.” Some choral song I cannot recall. 

Credit: Jeannette Mattson – “Red Rose” – Fine Art America

But I’m sitting here, music blaring trying to decide what to paint. I’ve that special shade of red and it’s mixing and melding with other colours. Shades and tones. I see, red on my canvas and it bleeds. Red blood, blood . . .life, the most prolific association. Red is blood. Blood is life. Red such as poppies, that we must always remember. Red for anger, red for hate, for war. Red to hurt, poor the droplets down a crystal glass. Red red wine. To drink away the blood and crippling thoughts. Red to forget. I like a Malbec with bite. A Zinfandel to make me chatty. A Merlot or Cav-Sav with some friends. Red sangria is delicious. Red strawberry margaritas because there’s real fire in tequila. Red is too many things, too symbolic, too self-contradictory. Red is life. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Poem – Day 27 – Laurenelle – “Both to Blame” #poetry #novembernotes #amwriting #music


Today’s prompt song is “The Night” by Black Lab

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“The Night” – Black Lab

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Credit: Jay Johansen Studio – Flickr Hive Mind

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Night calling and it bleeds with today’s pain, 

Your words, riddles linger, we’re both to blame;

Shower of diamonds, your words cut, blood rains.

It’s the anger you give me, my heart strains
To feel the comfort, the closeness, not this hate;

Can I forgive? Your inner monster reigns. 

He doesn’t hit; he’s inside you unsated
He’s your temper, you destroy us, words dwell

Lips sting abusive words, past ignites, lost faith. 

You think I won’t forgive; I’m your lover, a shell, 
I don’t want to live as Belle, trapped in prison. 

I know beast’s heart; goodness hidden in hell. 

This nightmare, sleeping alone, nothing given, 
Brought us down, broken paths, this our last night? 

You want sleep, you want peace — but I’m livid. 

I’m tired of the bore, this game playing, our fight, 
So I’ll wrap the sheet around you, I’m stupid

I care you’re warm, your sight gives me hope — light. 

My soul’s battered, yours is too, let’s erase —
Our problems; your eyes lift, I stroke your face. 

Night calling and it bleeds with today’s pain, 

Your words, riddles linger, we’re both to blame. 

——

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Collage Prompt: Poem – Florette – “Such Guests” #amwriting #poetry #writing 


Thank you to MindLoveMosery’s Menagerie for hosting this collage prompt:

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MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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My guest house, resides within

But I don’t feel right allowing–

Just anyone inside my own home

Guests like to roam, to destroy where they now reside. 

—-

My favourite friend is joy visiting, 

She shines brightly and never winces.

Anger comes in with wretched face

I tell him grace, will calm his raging –fire he spits

—–

Sorrow sacks the house, with no words, 

Brings anger and hurt with her to purge. 

But I serve them tea; she cries with tears,

Cries out all fears, sets the house right with kindness emerge.

—–

All these emotions come and go, 

Cathartic it feels, clearing my woes. 

Honouring them all, realize

These woes humanize me, make space within my soul. 

—–

Malice and shame, they wound the most, 

Ridicule my manners as host. 

Hate my guest house, demand refund. 

But they’re both numb; I learn from such awful ghosts. 

—–

My inner guest house is free for —

New glories to stride in and pour, 

Grace and mercy within my life

Now relieved strife fled, created much in me —more

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.