Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Lies to Tempt Lies” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftW.

——-

Credit: Kecia Sparlin

——–

“So saying, her rash hand in evil hour [ 780 ]

Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck’d, she eat:

Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat

Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe,

That all was lost. Back to the Thicket slunk

The guiltie Serpent, and well might, for Eve [ 785 ]

Intent now wholly on her taste, naught else

Regarded, such delight till then, as seemd,

In Fruit she never tasted, whether true

Or fansied so, through expectation high

Of knowledg, nor was God-head from her thought. [ 790 ]

Greedily she ingorg’d without restraint,

And knew not eating Death: Satiate at length,

And hight’nd as with Wine, jocond and boon,

Thus to her self she pleasingly began.” – Paradise Lost (XIV. 780 – 794). 

———-

“Such fruit is sweet scrumpciously divine, 

No better you’ll ever taste, dripping, 

From your most beautiful lips lick, 

Every last taste, let not on your face lie. 

Taste, devour, Lotus flower’s guided, 

To the mouths of pagan gods, and rip —

All flesh from this heavenly fruit sip.

For such knowledge it gives, opening eyes, 

Now you’ll see;” the serpent slithered past, 

Back to the thicket slunk, lies and tricks —

Enough to make dear, Eve, believe lies, 

A talking snake had ate the fruit, so she —

Ate, since the snake conversed; not seeing the facts, 

Black Serpent granted humanity dark death.  

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Advertisements

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Italian Sonnet – “Sonnet of the Milk Cow” #poetry #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——

Credit: majesticgoldenrose

——-

I am a cow, a cow I am; don’t think —

I don’t know you’re using me for my milk.

My friends out their in the pasture they think,

They’ll never be rendered into meat.

But the older cows who you milk don’t blink,

They know where fattened cows go too soon.

I’m told not to worry, with a wink,

I am a milk cow, that isn’t my fate.

I’ll live a long life as long as I give,

Thick liquid to use in many foods ate.

As long as there’s butter, yogurt I live.

As long as there’s cream, cheeses galore.

I’m a free cow until old age arrives,

Then I’m certain I just might be beef.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Eat or Be Eaten #amwriting #nature #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

——

A Mixed Bag

——-

A handsome hawk watched as a sparrow spreading its impressively small wings, approached the birdfeeder. This fellow was piggish and fed on the seed a while. His red-brown back and tail with dark black mixed in with red-brown, made him highly visible. 

After a while, the male sparrow flew away from the feeder back to his nest, and his mate appeared to come eat. She also ate an amazing amount of birdseed before flying back to her nest. The mama sparrow was plump but her feathers in comparison to the male, were dull to keep her and her chicks hidden. If his eyes weren’t so sharp, he would have barely noticed her. 

The hawk watched the couple from far above, his eyes sensing and studying their every momevement at their nest. He knew there were baby sparrows in the nest. Mostly, he was concerned about the fat sparrows. The babes he heard peeping were too tiny and shrivelly to eat. 

The hawk screeched, his loud cry deafening as he swooped down, his reddish feathers gleaming, a nightmare on wings. When the plump sparrows each returned to the feeder to eat more seed, the hawk mercilessly crunched them between his sharp razor beek and ate them one at a time. How they never suspected he was close, he didn’t understand. 

This was the natural world taking place, the food chain in action; though it might seem unfair and harsh it was how it was. But as the daylight darkened into night and the well fed hawk flew back to his own nest, a great horned owl swooped in for his own dinner. 

In the morning, a mother sparrow, having lost her own brood, landed near the nest where she heard the tiny birds chirping. She looked into the nest and chirped back and then sat among the chicks; she realized they were abandoned. 

Wary of of predators from her own past experiences, she waited to gather food until when she was sure it was safe. Perhaps nature sometimes made up for its treachery, even if the truth if the food chain was ‘eat or be eaten.’ 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Writing 101: Simple Acts – The Mundane Demonstrates Love. #everydayinspiration


This writing 101 prompt is to experiment with word count. I usually, don’t limit my posts unless I have to. Some of the hardest pieces I write can only be 100 words long. But since I have a choice, I’m going to write and see what comes out.

——

http://www.spoonsandstilettos.com

——–

There is a beginning and and an end to a story. Then there is the inbetween. Often, the inbetween is the part of the story we skip over, we miss the everyday mundane details of our characters lives which would bore many readers. But it is fascinating that in real life, the simple and mundane acts in life can be the most meaningful: 

——-

Everyday for the past three or four-years, my Dad cuts up a bowl of fruit for me in the morning. He started to do it when a Chinese student was staying in our house to finish her last two years of highschool and later attend University where we live.

Sometimes, the student didn’t eat her fruit, so I would eat it when I woke up later in the morning. One day I ate a bowl of fruit left on the table and my Dad came back from his run:

“Did you eat the bowl of fruit on the table?” he asked me.

“Yes, I thought it was Cristina’s and she didn’t have time to eat it,” I said feeling like a little child being scolded.

“I don’t mind cutting you a bowl of fruit Amanda but that was my bowl of fruit. I cut it so it would be ready when I came home from my run.”

“I’m sorry,” I said alarmed. “I wouldn’t have eaten it if I knew it was yours.” 

“It’s no trouble; I’ll cut an extra bowl of fruit it the morning. It’s not any extra work for me.” My Dad said smiling.

——

Cristina (the student) has moved out but almost every morning when I wake up around 10:30am, there is a bowl of fruit waiting for me. 

As my Dad allows his grown-up daughter to live in his house (on cheap rent) because of her health, he cuts this same daughter fruit for breakfast. They’re both simple things, but they let me know to him even though I’m an adult, I’m still his little squirell and he loves me a great deal. They are mundane acts which demonstrates my Dad loves me more than any grander gesture could.

How many times do we go by those we love in our lives, not demonstrating our love? Yes in their hearts our loved ones know we love them. But it’s small gestures each day which truly show what we feel for our loved ones. Hugs and pats on the back; saying you love them or appreciate something they did out loud; little treats such as baking or buying them their favourite cookies or ice cream; doing something to make a loved ones life easier; or doing things they appreciate. Simple mundane tasks and moments of thought. The inbetween is where life counts.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

13. How Was Last Night For You: Injuries and Memories


Read Chapter 12 here.

Chapter 13: Injuries and Memories.

John was searching for Nina beneath debris inside the farmer’s market. He was worried about Nina and he couldn’t find her. He had lost her and their bags when they had dived for the floor as a booth had blown towards them.

John could see other people searching for friends or family in the warehouse. He watched a grey-haired man aid some other men caught underneath a table. Everyone at the farmer’s market was injured someway. The worst were broken limbs and large abrasions. John hoped Nina had escaped with nothing but a few scrapes. John’s breathing stopped for a moment when he saw a soft pile of pink fabric out of the corner of his eye.

Nina was lying on the cement floor of the warehouse her right hand covered in blood. John carefully removed the items that had landed on top of Nina from the wind. He removed the bags with some of her purchases from her slack hand. John gently shook Nina. When she didn’t wake up he realized Nina was unconscious.

John ran his hand gently through Nina’s hair and was startled when his hand came out dripping blood. He grimaced at the awful wound Nina had acquired on her head. She was going to need stitches and John wouldn’t doubt it if she had a concussion. He unwound the the pink scarf around her neck gently and pressed the scarf to Nina’s head injury. The scarf was ruined but hopefully it would stop the remaining bleeding.

Oddly enough, the storm had only affected a small area of Adare, close to Sirene Lake. It didn’t surprise John. He was sure Tia drew her power from the water as a sea witch. She was the one who had caused Nina’s head injury he thought hatefully.  John grabbed Samsung and called 911. Ambulances were no doubt in the area assisting people from the market because the paramedics were helping Nina in a flash.

John watched worriedly as Nina was put onto a stretcher. A brace was put around her neck and the paramedics put bandages on Nina’s head wound. John gathered Nina’s bags and rode in the ambulance saying he was Nina’s fiancé so he could accompany her to the hospital. On the way, John found Nina’s phone in her purse and called Jasper to help Rianne bring some of Nina’s clothes and toiletries to the Adare General Hospital.

John told Jasper Nina had hurt her head. Then he mentioned that Tia had returned. Jasper was aghast.

“After all this time?” Jasper wondered.

“Yes Tia’s back Jasper and she’s vengeful. She wants me, but she wants to hurt me too. She’s nothing like the sweet girl I used to know. Who laughed and partied with us years ago.” John said.

“The best way she can hurt me is through Nina. Tia’s jealous of her. I’m positive it was Tia who hurt Nina drawing power from the water of the Sirene for the storm. Nina said Tia was at the fundraiser last night dating a guy named Malcolm, one of our editors from Mergers. Tia called herself Talise. Nina ran into her at the farmer’s market today too.  Tia hurt Nina on purpose today.”

“Are you sure John?”

“Yes, Jasper. She told me ‘my heart or Nina’s’ I don’t think she could be much clearer. I think she wants one of our hearts literally.”

John ended the call as the ambulance pulled up to emergency. The wait in emergency was painfully long and Nina remained unconscious the entire time. Doctor Kenner eventually examined Nina’s head and said she would be out for awhile. Nina had a nasty gash on her scalp and the doctor stitched up the wound carefully. Doctor Kenner noted that Nina would need three or four weeks to heal from what he thought was a mild concussion.  Dr Kenner ordered  a CT scan and x-ray to be sure of Nina’s condition.

John set Nina’s shopping bags down by the window sill in her hospital room. He saw there were some different spices in one bag and a beat up apple pie in the other. He was starving and managing to procure a plastic fork,  John ate half the pie. It was delicious, and was well worth the necklace he bought Nina. John had never bought a woman such a personal gift before, except Tia. He remembered having bought her a bracelet with an opal stone. Tia’s favourite colour was teal. She had been ecstatic when John given her the bracelet years ago.


 

“John it’s gorgeous. It reminds me of the ocean and the waves.” A young Tia had said to him admiring her wrist. “You have good taste.”

” I saw it and knew you would like it. It was in Tiffany’s.” John remarked, his hands tangled in Tia’s blond waves.

“Tiffany’s wow, it must have been expensive John. I love it. And I love being here on the beach with a bonfire and only us. No one for you to do business with. No brothers for you to rough house with and meet clients with. Just us, when we get married promise we’ll go to Greece, somewhere the water is santorini blue. . .”

“Oh, umm,” John said nervously. “I have a heaping pile of work to do for the next while and building Mergers right now is exceptionally important to my brother’s and I. It’s our dream you know. We’ll have to wait awhile. We can always have a good time as we are. I don’t need a piece of paper to say we’re a sure thing. We don’t need to be married yet.”

Tia sighed sadly, “If you say so John. In a year or two right?” Tia said holding up her bracelet and looking adorable.

John kissed her wrist, “Sounds about right, Tia.” He kissed her slowly by the bonfire.


 

It wasn’t long after Tia cursed John because Tia thought John was using her. Despite searching the lake for her in his sailing boat and inquiring about her from Tia’s old friends, John hadn’t seen Tia in eight years. When John saw Tia at the market she looked almost the same. Her skin was smooth and dewy and her hair was a sun-kissed blond. Only, her personality was colder. She was devious. She wasn’t an innocent girl anymore. John had helped cause her Tia to become hateful what she was today — vengeful. He felt guilty, despite how irate Tia made him feel for the curse she had caste on John.

John clasped the less expensive but beautiful pearl on the gold necklace he’d bought for Nina. The necklace lay around her neck as she slept. When he bought it for Nina he knew it was a gift for Nina which had more meaning to him then Tia’s expensive bracelet. He wanted Nina to be his ‘beloved’ as the charm on the necklace read. He wanted to do better with Nina and work was no longer such an interference in his life. He had enough money that he could take time off when he needed. In that moment, John realized he wanted a future with Nina. If he had it his way — a lifetime.


 

Rianne and Jasper arrived when visiting hours were almost over. Rianne wasn’t looking to well with her arm in a cast and sling. She was in pain but tried to be cheerful with Jasper at her side. Jasper had helped Rianne gather some clothes and personal items Nina would require in hospital for a few days. Rianne kissed Nina’s cheek and she brought home Nina’s spices from the market. John had finished the pie refusing to leave Nina before she woke up.

Nina awoke from unconsciousness later in the night. She was groggy as he took her hand and kissed her cheek.”John… is that you? I couldn’t find you. I looked but you were gone and this table it hit me and then my head was bleeding.”

“It’s okay Nina,” John said “I called an ambulance and you’re in a hospital room now. Doctor Kenner has ordered a CT scan and an x-ray but he thinks you should be yourself in a few weeks if you’re careful. You have a little concussion, that’s all.”

“Oh” Nina said softly,”I don’t feel good at all…so queasy.” John quickly grabbed a bedpan and Nina threw up. She wiped her mouth with some Kleenex John gave her.

“It’s going to take some time for you to heal Nina, take it slow, honey.” Nina smiled at the endearment and weakly brushed John’s hand with hers before letting her hand drop and resting back in bed.

“I intend to…” Nina whispered. She was going to sleep again when she mumbled, “Call my Mom. Call Heather –”

John sighed. Talking to Nina’s Mother for the first time to tell her Nina’s injured, great…

Please Read Chapter 14 here.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – The Grey Lady 


One day I went walking, my bestfriend and I. We went down the trails where the Autumn forest lies.

My friend the ‘Grey Lady,’ a husky with silver fur, crashed through debris and drank from the river, thirsty and content. 

I walked on the pathway, while the Grey Lady sniffed and crossed to a tree. Four one-eyed monsters stared back; terror froze me. 

The leader was a one- eyed red blob. He tried to talk but a space language burst from his tongue; his friend, a female, with a thickly lashed eye, starred melovently at the Grey Lady. 

Grey howled,  barked, and jumped on our colourful foes; to them she was as alien as they were to me. To them she was danger. So to us, were they.

The blue and yellow aliens were deep in discussion, then tried to attack me with futuristic guns; but the Grey Lady kept guard; a deep growl pierced the silence. 

And it’s a good thing Grey was fierce. Such innocent monsters they appeared, like a child’s toy. But despite their looks, they wanted to cause me harm.

They were super flexible,used mind tricks, and tried to steal me away; but the Grey  Lady wouldn’t budge. Of her they were afraid. 

Grey growled, bared her teeth, with stealth attacked those ruthless monsters. She could sense the danger in their comical appearance. For she was bred  from wolves and I was her pack. These colourful creatures were her treat, her tasty snack. 

  
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting! 

Writing 201 – Paradise Lost – The Fall of Man 


So saying, her rash hand in evil hour

Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck’d, she eat

Earth felt the wound; and Nature from her seat

Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe,

That all was lost. Back to the Thicket slunk

The guiltie Serpent, and well might;for Eve

Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else

Regarded; such delight till then, as seemed

In fruit she never tasted, whether true

Or fancied so, through expectation high

Of knowledge; nor was Godhead from her thought

Greedily she ingorged without restraint

And knew not eating death: Satiate at length

And hight’nd as with wine, jocund and boon,

Thus to herself she pleasingly began,

When I first studied Paradise Lost by John Milton, I hated in first year university. But when I took a course on Renaissance literature in my fourth year, I loved it. It’s an amazing piece of work, an epic, but also with fantastic poetry. I love these lines where Eve plucked and ate the fruit off the forbidden tree in the garden of Edan. Adam later follows suite and eats the fruit as well. Did God create us knowing that man would fall? Yes, but he still created us, created us with free will. And even though Adam and Eve did the one thing God asked them not to do, he loved them enough to send a saviour one day. 

Poetry: Some kind of Grace


Tried to put my life together one more time.
The advantage of time, you’ll just turn it to ashes again.
There’s no such thing as perfection, just a rejection.
Please don’t let me dig a hole I can’t climb out of this time.

Money is power and money is king.
So hard being a material girl, when you haven’t much treasure.
But we survive the days of little wealth, and find in comfort
“I can survive on my own, I can live on what I have, and that makes it okay to
Want what you often must turn your back on.”
But digging holes is what I do daily.

Your choking me now with the thickness of black smoke
That acrid taste that leaves fire in my mouth.
I’ve burnt another bridge, How long before I burn?
You can be forgiven a million times, pray to heaven,
And be replete and renewed in forgivenesses’ blissfulness.

But sometimes you beg for contrition and it’s not a pretty sight.
Pray to not sin those sins again, but sin works in “spirals”
And takes the sinner from “pride”to “despair,” and there is nothing in the middle.
For no one can contain the soak of poison into our veins.

Vanity, is a place I often lie, and think about the beauty that values things
More makeup, more contour, more glitter, more perfume.
Live the life of luxury or step down from your tower and just be human
Pretty and forget to be vain, but vanity and pride sit together as twins
Dig another hole, die another day, live and let live oh but for the propensity of sin.

To touch everyone and everything.
Make them mad again, play my hand again, lose their trust again.
I can only make right what I have confessed, else I’m caught in wrong doing.
Else, I’m sucked in by the twisting of what is good.
When Eve took the apple she sucked and “she ate,” I ate it with her, she should have known, mother of all. That witch!

And I aim for a life where I can have more control because I have less of it.
I aim for a life where it’s okay to smudge your face and pick yourself back up.
Be a little kinder, help a little more, and I find God in the strangest places,
Coaxing me on, let go of everything, come follow me.
And I stumble along contrite for a minute until I twist my ankle in some unlikely hole.
I should know where it is, I was the one who dug it.

And I know moments of grace, undeserved and glorious,
But I’m always searching for that little bit of hope.
Where grace clothes me and I’m adorned, a creature of sin,
Once rejected and torn, now I sit at my father’s heels and I’m content.
No longer forlorn. I am accepted a stranger no more.
For my time…and in eternity forever.

Works Cited

– Milton, John. Paradise Lost.