alouette, dVerse, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Alouette – ” Waterways, Rubies, and Light”  #saturdaymix #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to Sarah of Weejars on MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. Here theme as ben homophones and this week’s homephones are: straight – not crooked, strait – narrow waterway, and discussed – talked about, and disgust – sickening. I’m combining Sarah’s Prompt with Lillian from #dVerse Poet’s Pub birthstone Prompt. My birthstone or a ruby from July. 

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Credit: Jeremy Bishop via Unsplash

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Roads aren’t all straight

They’ve crooked places. 

Thin trails where water travels, 

Areas you trip, fall. 

Afraid to be mauled, 

Waterways fast cause rabble. 

—-

Trapped at a strait

Sharp-toothed bears await,

For you to give in and cry; 

Say, “Life isn’t fair, 

And you weren’t aware, 

Of suffering,” safety’s lie. 

——

Waters bring life, save, 

They can also enslave

Us within straits to suffering, 

You’ll drink fresh water, 

You’ll can drown, falter. 

But often, whirlpool’s they bluff

——

Your mind discusses

Escapes; swim through roughs. 

Don’t permit whirlpool’s giant waves —

Their narrow streams ire. 

Hard days don’t linger, 

Swim for your life, you’ll escape

——

Many times we see, 

What we think, believe —

Is an end, ’cause beginnings —

They disguise themselves, 

Self disgust us tells. 

We’ve not an ending, so swim. 

——-

We can fight despite, 

Life’s times of great spite. 

We are survivors living, 

To see another year. 

Monthly birthstone here —

Once more; rubies mark swimming —

—–

Through, surviving dark. 

Bright vivid lights hark. 

Another year not unfulfilled. 

A year we that we thrived, 

Sadness subsiding. 

With Ruby’s energy, strong will.

——–

Tres on through life’s thin, 

Narrow straits to swim, 

In glorious lakes and oceans. 

In heat of hot springs. 

As life always brings —

Light; healing not to bemoan. 

——

“The Alouette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following set rules: Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7 and Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b.” 

See Shadow Poetry for more details. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Fairy Tale Themed, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Dragon Keeper #amwriting #flashfiction #dragons 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF last week! 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alastair Forbes

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Leisbeth crooned to her pet dragon, Brand. She had raised him from when he was nothing but a babe, pushing his way out of his golden egg. 

Brand would never be a huge dragon, but he was worth a lot of money to many people.  His scales, his wings, and his teeth were valuable so Leisbeth protected him. She cared for his wounds from hunting for large animals and after locals injured him.

Despite being gentle, Leisbeth could be fierce. She knew she was fragile, but she possessed a gift, sorcery not even Brand knew she possessed.

In turn, Brand was Leisbeth’s protector. He knew she was a soft woman, her voice small and melodic. Her hands uncalloused and her long blond hair shiny and flowing. All these traits of beauty put her in danger. 

She knew nothing of the cruel world, that men spilled blood, both dragon and human for small amounts of silver. Brand still remembered the screams of his dragon parents slaughtered, as he fought his way from his golden egg. He was tiny then, but he remembered their terrified roars. 

However, Liesbeth had saved him so they would always be together. Brand would protect her inherit gentleness while she would guard him with her magic. Those who would hurt her intelligent companion would regret it. 

To Leisbeth, Brand was her friend who in private, loved to be held and stroked. Both their abilities would keep the other alive for thousands of years. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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. 

Blitz poem - 48 Lines, Fiction, My Thoughts, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 22 – Blitz Poem – “Chances Anew” #amwriting #poetry


Day 22 Prompt: Dangerous
“Some things are obviously dangerous, like walking too close to a cliff, and other things, not so much. Free write for ten minutes exploring what is obviously dangerous, not so much, and what dangerous means to you. You could turn this into a rant poem, especially given the times.”

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http://www.getaway2thegods.com

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There is always present danger

There is always a need for caution

Caution is necessary 

Caution keeps us alive

Alive isn’t enough

Alive means we need to be safe

Safe is a cloudy dream

Safe is an illusion

Illusions we love because they hide cold hard facts

Illusions keep us content

Content is all we can ask to be 

Content not to be in danger

Danger hides and danger runs

Danger is wicked and tricky

Tricky because danger is not not upfront

Tricky because danger bides its time

Time waiting to harm us 

Time waiting to strike and destroy

Destroying lives with vengeance

Destroying hearts with humourless mirth

Mirth –does it exist in harsh circumstances? 

Mirth is it possible when tomorrow could be–

Be the end of life’s dreams? 

Be the end of life without heart sight? 

Sight to see the world shatter as glass

Sight to see how lost we are in the world 

World where we wander feeling hopeless

World where we’re crushed by despair 

Despair slips in and brings us to tears

Despair is a weapon danger employes

Employes to target are last reserves

Employes as those serving him as soldiers

Soldiers, mercenaries, to do the bloody work

Soldiers blinded by their own greed

Greed for money until it’s set a flame

Greed for money, not seeing  –it’s only paper

Paper, the German Mark in the 1930’s, in suitcases 

Paper marks, thousands were worthless

Worthlessness, don’t ever feel unwanted

Worthful, you’re as precious stones

Stones judgemental people throw

Stoning the accused sinner

Sinners we all are, it can’t be helped

Sinner –let he with the least sin cast the stone first 

 First you must smile and gather your hope

First be glad, life has new beginnings

Beginnings are new chances 

Beginnings are for real, life arises anew

Chances . . . 

Anew. . . 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.