dVerse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quadrille - 44 Words, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quadrille- “Celestial Wings” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. Thanks to MISH of #dVerse Poet’s Pub for hosting this week’s #dVerse poetry prompt. The meaning of a particular sign or symbol. 


Credit: Axcy via Deviantart

Credit: Misha dVerse

 

Dawn’s effervescent brilliance,

Twilight’s ease to ink.

Stars, indulgent jewels,

Delicate glass traced.

Universe brimming,

Nebulas gleaming.

Celestial diamonds.

Drifting where signs,

Vibrate without liberty.

Forget repression,

A soul weighted;

Ethereal form found.

Torn Chinese lanterns,

Flight imminent.

No more signs,

Imprisonment or labor.

Be done,

So I can glide,

Fingers stroking,

Celestial wings humming.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quadrille - 44 Words, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

dVerse: Poem – Quadrille – “The Sweetest Gift” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to Lillian from dVerse Poet’s Pub for hosting today’s poetic prompt. Today’s prompt is a gift or present in whatever context. 

———

Credit: Picture Correct – Smoke Photography Tips

———

An ungift, poisonous —

Vapid utterance. 

Putrid alleys, 

Unimaginable  stench. 

Monstrosity of curses, 

Needles pricking, 

Drugs without euphoria.

No blissful visions, 

No ethereal weightlessness. 

Only a voracious appetite, 

Incantations of demons. 

Should’ve kept, 

Your pitch black prayers. 

Piercing flames of candle flicker, 

Enlightens fractured hearts. 

Smoke of holy incense. 

Healing through illumination, 

The sweetest gift.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

100 Word Wednesdays, Blank Verse - unrhymed Iambic Pentameter, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Flash Fiction, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 19 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Blank Verse – “Mythology Not Lost” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #100WordWednesday 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to recreate a myth in a poem. The A to Z Challenge quote from GoodReads has an author with a P in their name. Also, thank you to Bikurgurl for hosting last week’s #100WordWednesday. 

———

Credit: Anjo Beckers Photography

———-

” I moan with pleasure.

“Did you just have a foodgasm?” he asks, wiping ricotta from his lips.

“Where have you been all my life?” I ask the beautiful panini.” 

― Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

———

There are those who believe the Greek gods left, 

Went away, didn’t return, disappeared. 

Where there was greed, pride, avarice, lust, and war, 

There was no longer, because these gods were, 

Never gods, more like spoiled children who were —

Tolerated for a while until the —

 God who is the God, decide that they, 

Need find another place to play, beyond —

Olympus, and Athens, and Rome — and then, 

Came the Popes and the Cardinals, more sin. 

They had always been there, but now they —

We’re warriors and wise men, judges and —

The Greco-Roman gods and goddesses, 

We’re invisible, ethereal, just air. 

It’s what becomes of beings that ‘are,’

But aren’t real, they’re missing a certain —

Quality that means that in some form they’re —

Alive; full of heart, blood, bone, marrow, soul. 

But these gods were but mythology so they, 

Faded as much mythology does.

Legends of all kinds and all cultures who 

Have been, before and after them, or so —

I was told, ’til I began to see such surreal —

Things in town, at dinner talking with —

My dad, about life, and school and then, 

Beside us was this old man; and his eyes, 

We’re blue and twinkled, he had such, 

Vigor for his age, he smiled at me while he —

Talked to his friends, other gods he said. 

Not the God, but gods, he said who had been,

To me they were all invisible; he said —

Long ago in Greece and Rome, he was king. 

As Zeus or Jupiter, but now they —

All blended into humans, they had their —

Special places where they could go, greeting —

Their old friends and eating what gods do. 

He ate panini, talking loudly, 

Today it was Aphrodite, he also —

Said he was eating Ambrosia, the food, 

Gods required, and an extra plate lay, 

Near his hand, licked clean; he said that his son, 

Apollo, had been there, eating with him. 

He calls me granddaughter and one day —

The old man gave me a small piece of his, 

Panini he loved, saying it was ‘good.’ 

Said it was in my blood, so I ate and —

The amazing delicious panini, 

Became a hunger inside me for more and —

More, until I no longer visited the, 

Restaurant with my folks or my friends, 

But to eat with the old man and our kind. 

Who no longer rule, but have special spots, 

In restaurants such as this, where myth, 

And reality meet, somehow they reform. 

Because at tonight’s feast I find them all, 

Gods, goddesses, of mythology lost. 

——–


——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Wrapped Refrain, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Wrapped Refrain(2) – ” The Perks of Floating” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the photo prompt challenge.


Credit: Josh Hayes

 

I have a great deal of trouble staying straight up grounded,

If you got to know me, you’d see at times I feel confounding.

I don’t understand it myself,

But imagination is wealth.

So I know it’s okay to fly,

Up into the grayish sky.

Because I know how to make black and white turn colorful,

I can make a life of gray tones light so wonderfully.

——

It’s not that I’m anything unusual, different,

Then anybody else or even those who write proficiently.

But anyone who inks the page,

Knows what writers create engaged,

It’s exciting, magical,

Uplifting, and illogical.

The writer illustrates, cuts, folds, does the restitching —

Of stories; ripping out seams until what is left enriches.

——

It’s not easy to comprehend the scribbles and —

You find delicious cake baked, chocolate rich and grand,

Icing so sweet, flavor melding,

A creation vivid felt.

Picture perfect, read with pride,

And more delightfulness resides,

Hidden inside these golden words so captivating,

Intoxicating, ethereal, rising enraptured.

——-

Perhaps it’s not clear, why I let a balloon carry me floating,

It’s just, I’m seduced by language, writing, hopeful words wrote.

So protecting myself from —

Life’s elements thrumming,

Inside me, around me — I’m safe,

Despite trolls, odd notes of hatred.

I keep honing my craft, in my prettiest flats,

My comfortable wool coat; the writing it lifts me enwrapped.

——-

I let the fates lead me where the wind blows me, knowing,

I could be entrenched in editing woes, left moaning.

But I keep going with my muse,

Taking all of her abuses.

‘Cause they teach me burying —

My secrets, is so worrying.

My inspirations keep the balloon drifting, rising,

I have a great deal of trouble, but my writing makes me smile, surviving.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Poem – Licentia – “Some Magical World” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Last week’s Tale Weavers prompt was for us to write about a magical place. Thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting. 

—–

Credit: Adventures In The Wild

——

Place I drift when life hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling.

A magical place where the grass stands high,

Lush ’round my legs, where Gerber daisies spy.

Tipping towards the sun, technicolor,

Bright, inspiring, blue of sky discover.

A hole in the ground or Wonderland? 

Pixie dust sparkling in my hair, Neverland? 

Is this my own magic kingdom I’ve found? 

Place my mind travels inspired profound.

Place I drift when life hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling 

——

A magical place where the grass stands high,

Lush ’round my legs, where Gerber daisies spy. 

A hiding place where I often prefer,

Don’t search for me in my valley secure. 

I’m riding raindrops, kissing the sun,

I’ve never had so much freedom or fun. 

Gentlemen here, always decent and sweet, 

A wink in their eye, naughty whispers keep.

They’ll treat a girl well, hold tight if she weeps, 

And if you would like, they’ll love you to sleep. 

Place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling.

——

Tipping towards the sun, technicolor,

Bright, inspiring, blue of sky discover.
Gerber daisies everywhere with roses, 

Brilliant vivacity, colors exposed. 

Pixies trailing their dust eternally, 

Wings of lace light night, give hope certainly. 

Everything’s first bloom, so never spurn, 

This place humbles beautiful; with tears yearn

No contacts, surgery needed to peer, 

With clarity of soul, all vision clears. 

Place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling 

——-

A hole in the ground or Wonderland? 

Pixie dust sparkling in my hair, Neverland? 
Here is my land, I’m caregiver among —

Faeries with animals exotic, young. 
In their best-years forever, conversing —

Plainly; furry adore cuddles, nothing terse. 

A tiger cub sits by me so befuddled, 

When wolf pup becomes part of our den.

When I cheer because each word I’ve written —

Makes sense; stories flow unrestricted

 A place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling 

——

Is this my own magic kingdom I’ve found?

Place my mind travels inspired profound.
A comfortable place where I sit typing, 

Art studio where brush strokes have foresight.

Friends visit often, chocolate’s water

No weight gained, eight squares a day should be sought. 

Parties like Gatsby’s with flapper clothing, 

Each night unique theme, we don’t bemoan. 

As if we’re happy drunk with extra spunk,

Able to keep life in moderation’s trunk. 

A place I drift when life it hurts, inspiring —

Ethereal dreamscapes adventures beguiling.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing

Tale Weavers Challenge: Poem – Lunes –  “Talismans or Superstitions?” #taleweavers #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie forhosting this week’s prompt on Talisemans:

” Talisman weave stories of our hopes, our fears, our dreams, our pasts, and our futures. Weave a tale about a talisman – perhaps one of yours, and let us into the sometime secret worlds talismans represent and protect.” 

——

Tale Weavers

——-

Tale Weavers

——

It’s not an exciting story, 

It’s not a —

Huge secret, I’ve few talismans. 

—–

Save a cross, if one —

Would call crosses, 

Talismans; but I’m not superstitious. 

—–

When the dead are gone, 

They’re good and —

Gone; to another place sent.

—-

Perhaps there exists wandering ghosts, 

Lost wailing spirits, 

But maybe, they’re demons deceitful.

—-

There’s no inbetween, no purgatory, 

No nothingness, only —

Eternal life or eternal death. 

—-

I don’t consider much is —

Coincidence or luck, 

Mostly, there are miracles –hope. 

—–

Prayer is beyond this realm, 

Something spirititual; ethereal, 

Unexplained, mysterious, but for faith. 

—-

Yet, I think superstition is —

A human creation, 

If we cannot explain something, 

—–

Make up stories, so we’ll

All feel better, 

When logically truth is quite clear. 

——

A conundrum itself, 

Faith mixed with, 

Reason explaining what we fear.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction, Writing

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Part 2 – A Whisp in the Wind


Even as a spirit, Bernice told stories well. Bernice’s hands circled her own throat miming a squeezing action and then her eyes rolled back in her head as if she were dying. 

” I get it Bernice, I understand someone killed you but who? Please talk!” Jackie heard the whisper of her sisters ghostly voice finally in the wind, “Davey . . .” 

” Davey killed you Bernice? I mean he’s a prick but he hasn’t got the smarts, has he?” Bernice began to cry and pointed to Jackie. The wind howled and the bell of the old church down by the park began to ring. In the howl of the wind and noise of the bell she could barely hear the force evident behind her sister’s ethereal voice” HE WANTED US BOTH DEAD!” 

Bernice’s concern was evident as she curiously began to fade into thin air. It was daylight and the park was now empty. Bernice had come at an odd time in the day as Jackie was walking. Then, Jackie looked towards the church bell which had rung its last ring and she realized she was vulnerable.

Word Count: 176

  
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting! If you want to participate go to:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/author/pricelessjoy/

Flash Fiction, Writing

Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers – A Whisp in the Wind


Can you see her? Gesturing to me and wringing her hands desperately trying to make me understand something. “Well spit it out Bernice,” we always use to tell her and she’d laugh, shrug, and with a giggly sunshiney but quiet voice explain a funny story.

Bernice and I always use to go to the gazebo in our favorite park and talk the situation out when she or I had a problem. The last time she spoke to me she was concerned about my new husband Davey. ” Jackie” she sighed, ” he’s just not right for you. There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on . . . and he hates me, seems threatened by me as your sister.” I shrugged off Bernice’s accusations, although, she had been right that Davey wasn’t for me. 

Bernice doesn’t talk to me anymore or meet me anywhere but at the gazebo. She gestures and flails her hands and I beg her to talk. My sister is a pale ethereal figure who tries to make me understand something. What? I don’t know. Plus, there’s this funny dark bruising around her neck. She won’t explain. It’s as if she’s a ghost. . .

Word Count: 193

  
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting! If you want to participate go to:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/author/pricelessjoy/

My Thoughts, Relationship, Writing

When I Awoke


Waking up to reality can be a cold splash in the face or a more subtle realization, as if you have been fighting your way through cotton cobwebs that never end and suddenly, you are as Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Your entire perception has changed and you are awaking to a world of colour and a place where the rules of reality don’t apply. My friends and I would call this feeling ‘floating in the pink clouds’ or ‘existing in your own bubble.’ Now that I’m here, I would call this place wonderful and enchanting. I would call it a reprieve from reality and my everyday problems. I would equate this place with a profound sense of love, peace, and tranquility although, it isn’t always about these terms. But it is a place I feel grounded and safe, connected to my significant other in a way I have felt with no one and can barely describe. Some people might call this phase untruthful and that it is not how things actually are between couples. But I believe there must be some truth to it as John Donne wrote about the connection among couples being a world unto itself. In The Good Morrow Donne writes ” If ever any beauty I did see, / [w]hich I desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee” (6-7). These lines suggest that to the poet that the finding and receiving of the most beautiful things is not nearly equal to finding the person you love. In fact, all good things before the speaker found his love become hazy and obsolete as if the speaker was in a dream before he found his love.

Perhaps, this is an overalls romantic and unrealistic thing to feel, nonetheless, it is something I am experiencing. I think the feeling I get around my boyfriend is rather odd actually and I doubt a lot of my family understand it because of his religion. But we both walked into this relationship knowing it was a practical difference between us and many times I have pondered over it and the reason I love someone who has these beliefs I feel are untrue. But it doesn’t seem to make a difference I just love him more. I have come to believe that no matter our beliefs it is my job to love him throughout this life. And maybe somehow God will allow me to reach Him in ways that just aren’t possible now. I would like to love him forever, but this lifetime is enough if need be. I know loving your first boyfriend can be a laughable ideal. But I am not 18 or 19 years old either. I know we have details to work through and that there will be challenges between us. But I know what I know, that this is real and worth the hardships I probably will endure for it.

I became quite sure of this this past week. It was like I was slowly waking up and the warmth from the sun finally hit me and when I awoke it was into that ethereal world of colour and sharp realization, that I had everything in front of me and was in need of nothing.