100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

 Day 24 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Art of a Story and Death” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #100WordWednesday #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting last week’s #100WordWednesday flashfiction prompt. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by a work of art.” The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Prompt begins with the letter U. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl – Her Photograph and work of art for the prompt 🙂

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To write is to forget. Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life. Music soothes, the visual arts exhilarates, the performing arts (such as acting and dance) entertain. Literature, however, retreats from life by turning in into slumber. The other arts make no such retreat— some because they use visible and hence vital formulas, others because they live from human life itself. 

― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet”

(Sorry finding a Q name for this piece impossible but there is Q in Disquiet!)

———

The photograph is lovely at first, 

A brilliant blue sky, soft winds of cool breezes, 

The Atlantic still icy, but forgiving. 

Trees rise and guard the home, the lighthouse, 

Ancient ones in slumber as spring yet approaches. 

Rock walls prevent a fall below, to the unforgiving chill. 

Hypothermia comes quickly here, 

But the scenery makes up for the inherent danger. 

Bright pink of the house stands out and the tower above matches, 

Glows in the night when the boats pass by, 

Protecting and guiding ships. 

The long grass still waiting to be verdent, 

Not dry crumpled straw. 

And the owners of the house are silent, keeping to themselves, 

Their only sense of existing, is the light that glares, when outside the tower is dark. 

Spring is slowly birthing, but the ocean’s still freezing, 

And the danger is too real for ships too close.  

And a stranger walking watches from the dim, 

Holding back a dog barking in madness. 

The bulb has burnt out, now disaster is unhinged, 

The ship clips the cliff, the house crumbles and the ship sinks, 

Screams in the night, in the Atlantic’ waters cold numbness. 

And when all is said and done, only the lighthouse stands, 

With a burnt out bulb of fault. 

How can this photograph be a work of art? 

Is there art in dying? 

Or is art and death as a perception, to ambigious to be real? 

———



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©Mandibelle16. 2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Books, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, History, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 15 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Italian Sonnets – “Unbirthday Hell En Medias Res” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #taleweavers


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write poem in the middle of things en medias res. The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Quote is for the letter N. The Tale Weavers Prompt courtesy of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie is to write about an unbirthday. 

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Credit: Not on The HighStreet Enterprises – http://www.notonthehighstreet.com

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I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. — Pablo Neruda

———

Serve me tea and cut the cake quickly please,

Ensure my tea is cold with no odd hares. 

Or rabbit fur, or door mouse flees their. 

My unbirthday, she is here — the tease

She comes most everyday to say ‘breathe!’ 

You’re not old yet, many unbirthdays left,

Hold your years close to your beating chest.

You look like twenty-five, oh please

Each and everyday there is chocolate cake, 

Loud parties; a mad hatter who is weird,

Yes, the craziesness gets to me some days.

The party is brilliant, but I always peer,

For an escape home en medias res. 

Alice is happy with one birthday day. 

——–

So back to the town, back to my hills, 

No more unbirthdays? Mind left reeling;

Alice’s leaving Wonderland? Sad feeling. 

Pictures on walls here are hung straight — be still, 

To think on leafy forests dear, woods filled. 

The voice of the rain as it falls and it glows, 

But I’m too drawn to rabbit holes at will. 

Back amidst glamorous parties thrown, 

Having left peace a mere second ago, 

The town brook,  seems a mellenia’s dream.

Same crew in Wonderland serving tea. 

Too hot, too cold, to much cake makes me grow, 

Back to unbirthday hell — un medias res. 

——-


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Ghazal, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 13 – NaPoWriMo/ A to Z Challenge/Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Ghazals – “The Dragon Boat Returns to Shore” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #poetry #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a ghazal. The GoodReads Quote begins with the letter for the A to Z Challenge. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF as well. 


“A Ghazal is a poem that is made up like an odd numbered chain of couplets, where each couplet is an independent poem. It should be natural to put a comma at the end of the first line. The Ghazal has a refrain of one to three words that repeat, and an inline rhyme that preceedes the refrain. Lines 1 and 2, then every second line, has this refrain and inline rhyme, and the last couplet should refer to the authors pen-name… The rhyming scheme is AA bA cA dA eA etc.”

See: www.shadowpoetry.com


Dragon Boat SPF
Credit: Alistair Forbes – A Mixed Bag

“And though I came to forget or regret all I have ever done, yet I would remember that once I saw the dragons aloft on the wind at sunset above the western isles; and I would be content.” Ursula K. Le Guin, The Farthest Shore


The dragon boats arrive, the sea pulling them into shore,

Watching remotely from a distance, will he be on shore?

For many months they wandered, the boat their prized shelter,

Now they are home, the boat still floats, they’re at the shore.

I’m afraid to see them, brothers, their friends, so dear to me changed,

I wave, my kin they come forward their eyes remote, onto shore.

They’re gaunt, they’re battle worn, they need food, steaming hot baths to soothe,

Once they settle, they talk, thick coats warm them on the shore.

My brothers, my childhood friends, have lost part of themselves,

On the ocean suffered, in baren lands they smote on the cold shore.

They’ve treasures, furs, they’ve jewels, silver, gold — they lost their life spark,

Gazing at my love, his face coated in grime, eyes dead on shore.

The days pass by, the village returns to normal almost,

Except the men who left; returned forever remote to shore.

I talk to him, I talk to my brothers, hearing how each piece,

Of their self died, no matter we doated on them on shore.

Time passes, I think I’m seeing things when his eyes alter,

Warmth returns, he takes my hand, away from the boat on shore.


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Blank Verse - unrhymed Iambic Pentameter, Fiction, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Writing Prompt: Poem – Blank Verse – “Atlantis In Popular Culture” #poetry #amwriting #history #legend 


Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt. First we are to go to Wikipedia and go to the ‘Random Article’ Button, his is our title. Second we are to HERE and find a randomly generated picture. 

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Credit: http://writingexercises.co.uk/random-images.php

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Ring the bells ring them, sound organ pipes too, 

Atlantis sinks to obscurity

Earth trembles, calls with a tune sung, 

Ring the bells; last time you’ll hear them out loud. 

Artistic endeavour, artisan’s craft, 

Carved pipes; hear the organ it booms last. 

Earthquakes, rocks tumble, falling into time. 

A void in the earth barely felt until now. 

Modern humans are obsessed by her,

A lost city never found; for it’s day —

Full of vision, construction, art, thought. 

City that felt it was the greatest, 

The gods thought otherwise; earth swallowed, 

City Atlantis whole, taking everyone. 

Down to earth’s depths, in it’s belly kept, 

Here lies Atlantis hidden, there wasn’t —

Much difference between ‘us’ now and them.

Or hundreds of cities –past, present;

Civilization thousands of years old, 

It isn’t that the the ocean and land, 

Just ended a city; it’s the people

Inside who forget about decency.  

Treating each other terribly and —

No thought for tomorrow, hearts so, 

Cold, stone rigid; they sink themselves down, 

Into the water until they’re nothing

Nothing but a dream, not even memory, 

Just something modern people wonder of, 

Forgetting lessons as Atlantis did. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Poem – Synchronocity – “Beach Day” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: Roger Shipp

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Sand beach, I bury my toes,

Sand squishes between them, I sigh;

Happy.

——

Blue sky so clear, clouds like cotton, 

 Feel at home, reading trashy book;

Engrossed. 

——

Hearing waves crashing in and out, 

Aroma of salt, sea; sun streams;

Sunscreened. 

—–

Scents of cocoanut and aloe 

SPF 100 or I’ll burn quick;

Smoothed in. 

——

Floppy hat and Marilyn swim suit, 

Magazines read while the dog splashes;

Relaxed. 

——

Blanket soft with a bit of sand,

Jackie.O sunglasses worn; 

Content. 

——

Wet dog shaking everywhere, 

Angry crab in dogs mouth shook;

Laughing 

——-

Calm, tranquility; wading in, 

Ocean’s rhythm soothes, stops thinking;

Forget. 

******

 Sky fading purple; ocean green —

Dark and ominous, storm coming;

Watchful. 

——

Rain starts to fall, cold and loud, 

Taking umbrella down, packing;

Forced home. 

——

Perfect beach moment gone for now, 

Sitting in the cabin, storm roars;

Rain pours. 

—–

Sleeping in silken covers, dog stretching,  

She’s bathed, we’re napping, resting time; 

Cuddles. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

Blitz poem - 48 Lines, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry

Photo Challenge: Poem – Blitz – “Returning” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. 

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Credit: Mario Gervals

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Aurora-borealis paints the sky

Hues of light to charm

Charm the cold from old man winter’s grasp

Charm the sky hovering, colours delightful still

Still as the snow when it stops

Still as the young man in the living room

Room in a home where he’s troubled 

Room of the television — loud sports

Sports of the freezing weather

Sports loved best

Best loved is hockey

Best loved he watches, engrained 

Engrained in the screen

Engrained in the game 

Game on and he misses his wife as she drives away

Game of his wife searching for time

Time ended when she him left 

Time is new for her; he doesn’t care now

Now she moves on 

Now she is but thrilled

Thrilled, yet in a storm she drives

Thrilled to have escaped without another fight 

Fights always happen

Fights which got worse, never stopped

Stopped when she rethought her life

Stopped when she said, “I’m gone” 

Gone while the new sliver of a TV loudly plays

Gone, he knows it it, feels depressed

Depressed at the mess of his life

Depressed, slight lines etched into his face

Face with red eyes

Face with mouth stifling sobs

Sobs because she’s gone for good

Sobs because she gazed at him appalled

Appalled because he always yelled

Appalled because he’s why ‘they’re finished

Finished forever, she’s free

Finished, but she’s not safe in such a blizzarding storm

Storm outside flinging snow in his face

Storm outside, her car didn’t make it far

Far off and tired the look in her eyes

Far off but tears streaming ’cause she’s stuck 

Stuck in the bank of snow 

Stuck in her life, no escape

Escape life here, without him?

Escape yet, she’s glad, for her, he came 

Came, so she takes him back; he understands now

Came, so they return to times where they showed

Showed love, affection where no distance divides 

Now acts of love, little things, change the future

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Synchronicity Poetry - 8,8,2, -- surprise ending last 2 stanzas, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver: Poem – Synchronocity – “A Deadly Night” #amwriting #poetry #fiction #taleweavers


Here is last week’s  Tale Weaver prompt, held by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. The prompt is a story about being caught in a deep freeze. 

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Credit: Winter Wolly

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Stuck fast in this ice, no relief, 

Car pushed off he highway it’s —

Dark, cold

——-

We’re lucky we’re uninjured that, 

We’ve signals on our smart phones; night

Descends. 

——-

There’s no gas left in the tank from, 

Starting, then turning off the heat

Stars bleed

——

Giant glimmering balls, twinkle, 

Outside our windows; but we’re still —

Stuck here. 

——-

We called the AMA, come find —

Us because we’re frozen; minus 

Forty

——-

Nighttime is bitter, freezing we’re, 

Huddled beneath silver blankets, 

Wondering. 

——-

Then he starts shaking, lips so blue

Then he’s still; hypothermia

Induced. 

*****

But the sun is rising now; we’ve —

Made it through the dark; my friend he —

Yet sleeps. 

——

Hearing voices outside our car, 

Come to save us now, opening —

Our doors. 

——

Light leaks in, such needed warmth; I —

feel my hands, shaking you awake, 

You blink

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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

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


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

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

Outside the door, the snow blows so cold, 

Shivering turning our faces too bold;

Seeing beauty of the white world old. 

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

For now stay inside be warm discern

The soft fragility floating round air, 

Calls to our soul, beyond reason to care, 

Find peace and in Christmas spirit share. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Friday Fictioneer, My Thoughts, Nature, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Fictioneer: No Place Like Home #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff Fields for hosting FF.

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Credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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It was difficult living on the farm, being cutt-off from other people when there was a blinding snow storm for days. Marion felt the numbing loneliness deeply and her husband James only amplified her sense of isolation. 

They were still a relatively young couple but James made her feel as if she were old, dull, and boring. He barely acknowledged Marion except when he wanted food. He hadn’t actually conversed with Marion for what felt like years. 

She observed as James lived alone in his head, always ignoring her attempts to talk. As the harsh winds and snow isolated them in the farmhouse, James isolated Marion in their marriage. 

When the blizzard ended, Marion had had enough. She peered at James one last time and left. She drove to the nearest city and caught a flight home

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Not To Touch #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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A Mixed Bag

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I’m reminded of a science experiment my class did in grade five. We used chalk to grow crystals on them. The exact process I don’t remember, but I do recall feeling proud upon removing a piece of chalk from my container and finding various coloured crystals on it. 

I thought back to this day when I saw the trees begin to glitter with crystals. It had been extremely cold and blizzardy, so we all assumed it was naturally, the accumulation of ice crystals. But then the trees became covered in crystals of all colours.

 There were bright lavender crystals and cyan blue crystals. There were even bubble gum pink crystals. Everyone thought this was the most beautiful and unique oddity. Journalists came from every city across the country, to report on this rarity for themselves. 

Then, scientists in the area starting testing the crystals and while they were lovely on the trees, the were not so lovely attached to your skin. They crystals once fastened, would not unfasten from one’s skin until a person was completely covered in them. Until their body was frozen, stiff, and dead as the trees which never budded in spring. 

Our town was nearly deserted by the time the military took over. The colourful forest was burned to the ground. 

The most heart breaking aspect for everyone was that the small children were the first to touch the trees. They had the smallest bodies and didn’t last long. I think it’s the reason so many people started over, the unbearable misery they left behind. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.