Fiction, Health, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: A Thousand Was Not Enough #fiction #amwriting #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. 

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Credit: Dev Benjamin via Unsplash

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Scattered in vivacious colors, a thousand was not enough, but would’ve a thousand paper cranes healed you, done anything? I guess they weren’t for you, they were for me, to keep my hands busy as your eyes glassed over and the pain meds kicked in; they stopped me from crying out from asking, why you didn’t even try to heal, for you, for me. I leaned over your bedside the paper cranes around us and you gave me a half grin with your dimpled cheek, somehow there when all other reserves of flesh were gone; then you were gone before I could  memorize your last smile. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Health, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing

Notable Quotes June 2017 Part Two #pinterest #quotes


More quotes for you again, hope you enjoy and remember that just because some quotes say “she” doesn’t mean they can’t apply to “he” in many situations. 

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1. 

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5. 

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13. 

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14. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) 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

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Poem – Day 17 – Italian Sonnet – ” Wish I Was Brave” #amwriting #poetry #music


Today’s November Notes Prompt is “Brave Enough” by Lindsay Stirling and Christina Perri.

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“Brave Enough” – Lindsay Stirling and Christina Perri 

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Brave enough to love you, it’s a wish, 

Instead I ran away, heart kept safe;

I should’ve had courage, but wasted —

Little moments, your precious kiss.

The walls in me, fell down wistfully, 

I didn’t know what you were doing, take —

My words as truth, it’s hard to make —

A coward, brave enough to love, wish —

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I had brave within me; us two would —

Hurt less; it would blunt pain acute, 

Could be brave, it takes two not mute.

I wish I was, I wish I’d been less, could —

Love you completely, rife with truth, 

Now, I know well to do, as I should. 

—–

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Health, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – ” Yaya Mockingjay” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s photo challenge: 

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http://www.pixebay.com

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Have you cast all your doubts? 

Decided what’s best? 

An old women has regrets, 

There is no life without them. 

It’s difficult, knowing what’s right, 

I just tried my best. 

Listened to my elders, 

As my mother always said.

But there are days I know, 

My best is not enough.

I’m pushing and pulling,

No strength in my bones. 

I’m yelling and shouting, 

But my words aren’t enough,

“We don’t speak your language Yaya.” 

My grandchildren laugh. 

They always need more,

More than dry-bones can provide. 

I feel drained and drowned, 

In lost potential. 

Yaya down and she can’t raise herself up. 

Drenched in such evil, 

Of those with no conscience;

Their knowing looks, eyes that know nothing.

They’re missing my years, my wisdom learned, 

But I’m stuck in thick sticky mud, 

And no one helps an old woman up. 

There’s no hand to help comfort Yaya, 

Her life was tough and unsparing. 

The mud is the only spa I know or ever have, 

A facial mask of sludge and worms. 

An archaic beauty mask. 

Somebody hear, what I’ve learned — listen: 

Your mistakes and your ills you repeat, 

Each day I try to tell you but it’s not enough. 

You smile at me empty eyes, 

My words pass through your ears, 

The wind blows loudly there.

What’s enough? 

Until I’ve drawn my last breath? 

Until I’m lying here still — dead, 

Knowing some journeys such as mine, 

Must be made alone and for naught. 

A solo expedition, my entire culture lost, 

Must I stay on the roads of antiquity? 

Can I grow with the changing world? 

Give me a reason to deviate: 

I must stop the mudslide from coming.

Spitting sludge from my lips, 

Lord, why don’t they hear? 

The roar of doom and pain approaching. 

It will wash them away, 

When I’m safe in the heavens. 

Does being old make me invisible? 

The crevices of my face are a map, 

And my eyes the lights to yesterday. 

Learn from the past, I pray. 

Where is the light? 

Where is the hope? 

I’m just an old bird, a simple sparrow, 

How do I become a Mockingjay? 

I saw her fight in the movies, 

We need a Mockingjay today, 

A bird of pray who acts, 

Not sleeping through each day. 

How do I bring hope, become a symbol? 

How do I teach my young, 

To mimic a wisdom long past. 

You won’t like what I have to say I know, 

But you would hear, a Mockingjay. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) 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. 

Fiction, My Thoughts, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Tanka - 5,7,5,7,7 syllables, Writing

#OctPoWriMo – Day 9 – Tankas – “Spiralling Nightmares” #amwriting #poetry


Day 9 Prompt – SPIRAL

“I love that you can find spirals from the tiniest places (our DNA) to massive expanses (the Milky Way) and everywhere in between. Free write about spiraling and see where you go – do you spiral up or down? Find where this word takes you and go from there.” 

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http://www.thebuzzfeed.com

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Whispy visions form, 

In our minds, in dreams, in sleep;

Foggy images, 

Are we us in our dreams so real? 

 Perhaps, we’re who we desire? 

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Perfected, ideal. 

No flaws, idiosyncrasies, 

We save the day and —

Our wishes come true and life, 

Is exactly how we would want. 

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Then again most dreams, 

Are ghastly and confusing.

People don’t make sense

You’re chasing someone or you’re —

Being chased — there’s no escape.

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You’re afraid and lost,

Your dreams, colourful, and vivid. 

Childhood friends are here, 

People you’ve seen only once —

Nightmares spiral, ripe with fear.

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Facing an enemy, 

Bully from school, or those you —

Loved, or part of you does? 

What’s real? Will you remember? 

Why do your friends hide and yell? 

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Or perhaps, you dream, 

Much more serenely and feel, 

A peace never felt,

 In waking hours never found, 

Tough living life; then you sleep . . .

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Do you sleep enough? 

Perchance to dream, feel refreshed

Or do you thrash and —

Scream, spiralling nightmare, 

Taking ahold preventing —

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No waking, no sleep; 

Twisted and caught inbetween, 

What’s real and what’s not

The savage territory, 

Our mind’s fears torturing us

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Resevered. 

Fiction, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Word High July, Wrapped Refrain, Writing

Poem: Wrapped Refrain – “Hers” #wordhighjuly #poetry #amwriting #makisig



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http://www.katemcelweephotography.com

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He steps out of the shower wearing, 

Towel around waist, torso bared.

Appreciation in her gaze, 

Still lovers in morning’s rays.

He’s shaving at the mirror now, 8:00 am shadow;

Hand caresses his face dear; whiskers bare skin loved so.

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She adoringly watches; he does his —

Hair; style enough to say he actually gives; 

Because, he matters to her; he’s attractive, 

Features cared for; laughs, she’s pensive.

He’s putting on a show for her; pulling up his dark jeans, 

Strip show reversed; he stares into her eyes, her dream.

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A button up shirt, match his eyes blue, 

No suit today; just hers to amuse.

A watch on his wrist; one she bought, 

Ring on his finger; him she sought.

There’s a song which was sung, about a ‘sharp dressed man.’

He thinks of it smirking; she grins impressed; his fan.

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He’s comfortable; she blinks and stares, 

His heart thumps; she likes what he wears.

She likes his bare skin; his heart beat, 

She likes his brain; he’s smart, sweet.

He maybe flawed, she loves him still; everyday he

Steps out of the house; holding her hand and he’s hers.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Travel, Writing

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: A Place To Sleep


Thank you to Nortina from Lovely Curses for hosting Moral Monday’s. Today’s moral is: “There is no place like home.” 

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http://www.123rf.com

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When I take a vacation, I like to have a nice room to stay in. I like a clean hotel or AirBnB room/apartment, with a comfortable mattress and enough soft blankets and pillows.

 This has been vital to me in the last eight-years as it never was before because my body can’t handle an entire day out. In the mid-afternoon after walking around and exploring, I need to rest before evening activities. I need to crawl into bed and sleep or watch TV. 

To be honest, the best bed in the entire world, is my bed in my room at home.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Daily Prompt, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Tanka - 5,7,5,7,7 syllables, Writing

Poem: Tanka –  “Inevitable Farewell.”


Thanks to The Daily Prompt for the word prompt inevitable.

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Tanka is a classic form of Japanese poetry related to the haiku with five unrhymed lines of five, seven, five, seven, and seven syllables. (5, 7, 5, 7, 7)

The 5/7/5/7/7 rule is rumored to have been made up for school children to understand and learn this type of poetry. For an in depth description of Tanka, please visit the Shadow Poetry Japanese Poetry Tanka section.

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information on this form of poetry.

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http://www.favim.com
 
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Certainty, feeling,

Occurrence will transpire,

Gut instinct forming,

You’re not healthy for me dear,

Harmful, inconsiderate.

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Attempted, I hoped you —

Would be permanent, each day.

Realization,

Dawned in my mind you’re not —

Dependable, not mine.

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I am my own self, 

No cookie-cutter woman,

Not as the others,

Kind, support, gave you a shot,

Dinged crossbar, not close enough.

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We’ve journeyed to here,

Both of us together must part,

Inevibility,

Some relationships don’t last,

Changing my direction, farewell.

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©Mandibelle16.wordpress.com