#OctPoWriMo Day 16/Tale Weavers: Poem – Free Verse – “Me Too” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Tale Weavers prompt on circles or wheels in life. For OctPoWriMo Day 16 with a prompt on tears and fears.

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Carli Jeen via Unsplash

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I didn’t mean to break the teacup, 

I didn’t know it was so sacred. 

That porcelain so fine,

Meant to last generations, 

Passed down from mother —

To daughter. 

But Great Gran hated her China pattern, 

It wasn’t to her taste; 

It wasn’t used, 

At each meal for supper; 

It would’ve shattered,

Much sooner then. 

Great Gran knew like people, 

China is delicate, 

Especially if it’s shatters, 

And re-pieced. 

And you can’t possibly tell me, 

Fragility is permanent. 

That those who are broken, 

Remain that way, 

Once you break someone,
They’re never whole again;
They’ll heal and they’ll form, 

White scars gleaming.

But you cannot make anew,

What must be glued together;

Fragment by fragment. 

You can’t expect it to maintain, 

Indelible strength.

You don’t know what defines beauty, 

True beauty is brokenness. 

That those not in their entirety,

Are destined to chip and crack. 

Perhaps their outer designs and artistry,

Masks their flaws. 

But fault lines are visible, 

Places one could dig deep, 

Exploiting pains throbbing echo, 

Across generations, 

And unwanted China. 

You’d think we’d be afraid of shattering,

We’re all terrified until we find,

Someone to help us, 

Someone who doesn’t see the cracks. 

Love blinds us in many ways,

Some that hurt, 

Some that heal and bind wounds. 

It’s a cycle, a circle, 

Despair and rapture, 

Too much or too little.

And I think Great Gran, 

Would’ve smiled, 

Seeing your beloved teacup scatter; 

It’s just a cup, 

One she despised. 

For she wanted a reality for us,

Beyond teacups, of lady’s serving tea;

She didn’t want our suffrage,

Our call to feminism,

To remain at the price,

Of “me too,” where —

Every woman,

Has had a close call,

Not one she wanted; 

A narrow escape,

Or a constant nightmare, 

Where pleas meant nothing.

“Me too,” she would say, 

Staring with disgust, 

At a patterned teacup, 

China gifted from the husband,

Who perpetually, 

Reminded her of wifely duties, 

With or without, 

Her blessing or consent. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Notable Quotes July 2017 Part Three #pinterest #quotes


Welcome to Notable Quotes for the end of July 2017. ——-


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Notable Quotes April 2017 Part One #pinterest #quotes #books 


Happy April! Here are some more quotes. I think you’ll like them, they’re book quotes again for the most part 🙂

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Good Juju #amwriting #flashfiction #magic 


Thank you to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: Dawn Miller
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“So what are those exactly?” Todd asked Cheryl.

“Maybe the shop owner can tell us more. . . Hello Sir, what are these pottery items used for?”

“Little stoves. Keep you warm through winter’s night and keep the dark ones away.”

“Dark ones?” Todd and Cheryl asked in unison.

“Yes,” the man said, ” The evil spirits. The ones you don’t see. These stoves are good juju.”

“Juju?”

“They’re for candles. See venting in top lids. You leave them on when you sleep because bad ones will only leave then; it’s when they come out.”

“But what’s juju?” Todd asked the shop owner perplexed.

He sighed, frustrated, “Juju are items of magic. Can be magic for good or magic for bad. A curse or a blessing.”

Cheryl smiled. “That’s neat actually. I’ll take two, I don’t know about leaving them on at night . . .”

“Madam must leave them on this night or it will be too late.”

“Pardon?” Cheryl said nervously. She gazed at the shopowner thinking he was off his rocker.

Todd noticed the agitation of the shop owner and seeing how inexpensive the simple candle holders were, paid for four.

“Best choice. Spirits will flee,”the shop owner said bowing.

That night Cheryl awoke and to her terror she saw dark shadows such as dementors surrounding the bedroom ceiling above their bed.

Her eyes flew towards the candle holders nearby and she was relieved to see the dementor-like beings stayed away from the candle light. They left via the window which somehow had been opened.

Getting up Cheryl closed the window shivering both from cold and fear. 

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©Mandibelke16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Tale Weavers: Crossing the Veil #amwriting #taleweavers #fiction


Thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt: A tale which takes place beyond the veiled mist. 

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Credit: Adventures In The Wild

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Kyria had been warned since she was a small child, beyond the veil was dangerous. Her older siblings had told her monsters lived there, that there were witches waiting to eat a young child. 

What the adults said wasn’t much better. Her Grandma Iris said she’d lose her soul if she was caught in the veil beyond. She talked about shape shifters and immortal creatures of the dark such as vampires and werewolves.

One day hanging the laundry on the line at her grandmothers, Kyria gazed at the veil nearby. She hadn’t thought of it for a long time and she wasn’t sure why it called to her now. She’d never admit she could hear the whispers of the creatures which lived their. They were tempting her and she knew it.

 Did everyone in the village see the veil as she did? Kyria believed they had no idea where it physically was, that to them it was was only folklore for children and not a real thing; it was extremely real to Kyria and she knew for her grandmother as well. 

Kyria was twenty-four and long past the age of adulthood. Her parents lived together and her siblings with their families. She hadn’t found a suitable man to marry so her father decided she should move in with her ailing Grandmother and care for her. He thought she needed to be of use somewhere since she hadn’t married quickly as her sisters did. 

The more Kyria thought about the veil and the mist shrouding it, the more she thought about how she’d never put herself out there in life. She’d always done what she was told and when others failed she was the one who took their place, who filled in so everything went smoothly. 

It was how she made up for her so-called “selfishness,” still being single and not having children for her family and village. She wondered why she had never pushed her boundaries and was tired of being ruled by her father’s and her grandmother’s whims.

Kyria loved her Grandma Iris the most because she understood Kyria better than anyone. But her grandma still cautioned her to never cross the veil daily. But grandma was inside sleeping and Kyria heard the whispers from veil more and more these days. They were a sirens call to her. 

She ignored all she had been told by her grandma, her family, and her friends as a child. She decided today she would cross the shrouded veil into the other world. Dropping the laundry Kyria walked towards the veil and into the mist surrounding it. The veil shimmered as she came closer and sonorous voice could be heard singing on the other side. 

When she reached the line where the spiritual and natural worlds met Kyria stopped for a moment and stood. She smiled and with both hands raised in front of her she was able to feel the mystical energy she was about to pass through. 

She stepped into the shimmering fog and breathed deeply. Her long blond hair flew out behind her and it was the last thing her grandmother saw as she watched her granddaughter cross into the other world. 

Grandma Iris sighed in frustration but she knew as it had been with her, the veil had been too much of a temptation for Kyria. She knew that adventure and discovery awaited her sheltered granddaughter. As it had been with Iris, the veil and it’s magic was in Kyria’s blood. Grandma Iris was the only one besides Kyria who actually could see the veil, she had made herself guardian of the gateway and hoped Kyria would take over for her one day. 

But as the last of Kyria’s blond hair slipped through veil and disappeared, Iris couldn’t help being thrilled for her granddaughter. What awaited Kyria would shape and change her. It would motivate and hurt her, it would be an experience far beyond the scope anyone in the village would ever experience. 

Iris blew a kiss towards the veil and whispered a blessing for Kyria. The feelings of excitement in Iris were so intense it was as if it were fifty-years-ago and she herself was crossing the veil. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Favourite Quote


Prompt: Do you have a favorite quote that you return to again and again? What is it, and why does it move you?

Life is much like writing in ink. All you can do is read over your past and look forward to a blank page for your future that will soon be filled with words that can never be erased – Unknown

This particular quote appealed to me as I  have always enjoyed writing and found myself gifted in the area of writing. I acquired this quote when I was fourteen-years-old and ‘My Space’ was the big social network. I have had it on my profile on FB for years.

The quote makes me think, and continues to make me ponder life. What I realized after thinking about this quote was that you can read over the past and remember your memories, but you don’t want to become stuck in the past. You may have had interesting events and fun times you would like to remember but there are also parts of people’s lives in the past which were painful and difficult. 

For this reason, it is a wonderful gift to have a blank future in front of you, a blank page every single day of your life. You cannot change the past but you can shape your own future. There are always unknowns who will have you write things you wished you hadn’t and make you wish you’d never experienced an event. But you, as a writer of life, are the one writing in ink. You write in life what you decide, therefore, it is best write about what a terrific life you had. How you dealt gracefully in most times of hardship. Make yourself have a life you are excited to write about and look back on.

 It is up to us to react to life in a way that is compassionate, caring, understanding, and helpful to others. And when life becomes problematic for us, that is the time to lean on others and write about them in your blank pages too. We all exist with the guidance of other people and their experiences in our lives. As John Donne wrote “no man is an island.” The experience of life is one we live together and that is a blessing from God.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.