100 Word Wednesdays, Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: Poem -Free Verse – “He Flew” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays 

——–

Credit: Nicolas Picard

———

Doing tricks, 

On his skateboard, 

Young boy. 

On banana board, 

Travelling fast, 

Down paved roads. 

Swerving before cars, 

Smashed him. 

On the Merry-Go-Round, 

Flying off, 

Into the afternoon sun. 

On ground, 

Never crying. 

More stitches;

He didn’t mind. 

Snowboard, 

Flipping, turning, 

Off half-pipes. 

Black diamond hills, 

Rushing towards. 

Bright-white powdered snow. 

Matress softening, 

Terrible falls. 

Breaking legs, 

Collar bone, arms. 

On his bike, 

At the skateboard park, 

Flying as a new robin. 

Wings wavering, 

Into unforgiving air. 

Didn’t care if he, 

Landed on his head. 

Concussions, 

Some awful, 

Even with a helmet. 

Bruises deep purple, 

Fractures, sprains —

All painful. 

Wherever he went, 

Whatever he did, 

He flew. 

No one ever, 

Expected him, 

Not to. 

He should’ve been, 

Born with wings, 

But he wasn’t. 

He flew, 

Just the same. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quatrains – “Tale of The Floating Bride” #poetry #amwriting 


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

—–

Credit: Zhangjinga.com

—–

Enchanting child in slumber keep, 

Red hair surrounds you as you sleep. 

I wait for you to wake from your dreams, 

No longer a porcelain doll preened. 

*****

A wedding gown white lace so frothy, 

Mother hoped your match was lofty.

That you’d found your life partner, 

Your prince, your man, for life to start.

*****

But day by day you grew sad, 

When pressed with his kisses ran. 

Empty feeling inside you grew, 

Like a butterfly away flew.

*****

Mischievous child, pain grew, 

His fist at your face straight-on flew. 

Hiding the bruises with powder,

Not even concealer shrouds

*****

Pride vital to you, tiny doll, 
Escaped; no one to catch your fall.
Fly in dreams with delicate wings, 

Winter ends, it’s soon your spring. 

*****

Gather your courage –call it off;

Don’t marry him, don’t be soft.

In front of the crowd, show each cut, 

Let them see bruises, you must. 

*****

So they know an abuser, 

Isn’t good enough, he’s a loser. 

He broke your velvet wings, 

Your sanity held by strings. 

*****

But it was too late even then, 

The lake too close; so your end.

Now you float, butterfly who swims, 

Eternity of light your win. 

*****

We tried to save a doll of glass, 

But on death she shattered, passed. 

Down below the water’s dark depth,

She’s tranquil, free; although, she leapt. 

*****

Mind too distorted, destroyed, 

Lover’s hands threw her like a toy.

World tough; his madness changed them both, 

In Heaven she smiles free to float. 

*****

He mourns her death each day, each drink, 

Pretty soon his rage him too sinks. 

Accidents happen to the unaware, 

She pulled him in, drowned his despair. 

—– 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Fiction – Spectre of Death #amwriting #fiction #death


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt: 

——

Credit: “Minutes to Midnight” – http://www.hunternif.deviantart.com

——-

Time’s clock is forever ticking above death’s throne. The clock’s glass face absorbes the colours of the landscape where death resides. The greyish-green of the stone mass, a floating island, and the pinky-red fire of the sky above and below, reflects on the clock’s face. 

The figure of death sits soberly in his throne. The stone carved form a perfect fit for his lanky tall body. Beneath death’s left and right hands, the leering skulls of his first two victims sit. They are from our first two ancestors, people who lived exceptionally long compared to the humans living in modern times. Adam and Eve had tried to evade death, even though they knew he was coming for them. They had been ignorant and had no idea what death actually meant until they breathed their last. 

Their souls he’d had to let fly in heaven, gold birds with giant wings exploring their freedom and return to painlessness. He had kept their skulls, though one day he knew he would have to return them. For now, Adam and Eve’s skulls peered eerily out onto whichever soul was before death seated on his throne. Together with the dying person, death watched their last seconds of life tick away. He towered over them in his realm and let their soul sour to heaven or to hell, there was no inbetween except him. 

Some souls who stood before him were not afraid. This always amazed death. He was an imposing figure, giant and fearsome, his red hair as consuming flames, and his eyes burning coals. Some humans gazed up at him with what frightened death as wisdom, something they had gained, which few knew, not even him. Their souls flew away and he knew he would never see them again. Other people crumbled before him and he took time to torment them whether they went below or above. He was death after all, a fearsome being. 

Yet, he had no control where a soul went. Death had no power to choose or to do as he wanted. He had a job, a task. He was death, he killed; but he was not merely an end. He was also the beginning. What he valued most of all, freeing those souls trapped in decaying bodies or in bodies injured profusely. Death was a contradiction of terms, both good and evil. Souls of faith went above and souls of disbelief went down to hades. Even death was afraid of what lay far beneath him in the abyss. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Licentia – “Without A Sound” #amwriting #poetry #love


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt:

——

Credit: Rich Howman

——–
Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

Swing her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift;

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All to happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Perserved in time the clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

Years slide forward, what can you do but, 

Move forward too, memories cause a rut. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found, 

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—-

Swept her up into your arms, because it —

Felt like the thing to do, she’s dear and swift. 

Wiggling and giggling in your —

Arms; begging to have legs on ground restored

She thought she was too heavy for your back, 

You just laughed and kept her close, said “Relax.” 

You were walking barefoot on the cool —

Wet ground, the grass made you slip, such glad fools. 

Drop of joy harnessed in a crystal glass

Kept to hold, make the precious moments last. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found,

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound.

Her punch on your arm, painful kind of bliss

All too happy to meet with a wet kiss. 

Lovers as close as lovers can be, rolling —

On the blanket, on grass, after strolling.

Gleam in her eyes promising heaven, 

Twist of her smile taking you to Never —

-land of pirates, lost boys, and she, Wendy, 

Picking up a sword, fighting for her when —

Pirates attacked; shoeless running in real

Life; time ceasing again, treasures for feels. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

——

Perserved in time, clock keeps ticking fast, 

Moments gone, looking back, it never lasts. 

The truth is hard to swallow, to remember

Years pass, euphoria is dismembered

Harsh realities, sickness, health; sickness wins, 

She flew away my sparrow with the wind.

Such disease sucks the life from a body, 

Hope, a religious dream from pain prodded. 

A new eternity to love, swing round with —

Dirty bare feet and love despite death’s grip. 

Laughter in the moment, golden hour found

Hearts beat as one, time stops, without a sound

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Fiction, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quatern - four quatrains, line a repeats moving down each stanza line until it's the last line of the last Quatern, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem – Quaterns – “You Are Not The Girl” #poetry #amwriting


Credit: Marcus Baccatti – http://www.pinterest.com

*****

You are not the girl I always knew,

The person I was most like, you flew –

No longer my number two,

You’re the girl I defended too. 

—–

At every step abandoned I grew, 

You are not the girl I always knew.

You say one thing, you’re actions show,

You’re not a dependable though.

——

I disattach so you won’t hurt,

Make the marks of neglect so curt.

You are not the girl I always knew,

I relied too much on you it’s true.

——

You’re not such a good person, though —

I put you on a pedestal, so –

I took care of you, and trusted you,

You are not the girl I always knew.

******

You are not the girl I always knew,

Life it changed, with it we both grew –

Forced apart at first by you, then thrown,

Hurt so much, but I’ve always known –

—–

I can’t completely trust you through –

You are not the girl I always knew.

So involved in yourself, stopped thinking,

Stopped caring, it made my soul shrink

——

To think of where life takes us, knowing —

One day you’ll leave, forever going.

You’re not the girl I always knew,

You just look like her, there are few –

—–

Who could ever replace this girl,

But she is stuck in her own world.

Changes, hoping friendship renews, 

You are not the girl I always knew.

*****

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing

Flash Fiction for The Purposeful Practitioner: The Price


When I removed the contents from my tote-bag, I was perturbed to see a tattered book inside.“I could see the corner of folded yellow parchment sticking out of the torn lining of the battered book.” 

“What’s this?” I whispered. Instantly, I heard chanting. In my mind I pictured two woman murmering magic with candles in a circle around them. It was as if the image had been placed in my mind.

Suddenly, the parchment opened in front of me. Oddly, the symbols on the parchment made sense to me. The parchment was a spell for immortality. I had no time to think, the words of the incantation flew from my lips:

Live forever, consequences well known,

Speak the words, let your time now cease flow,

Your string never snipped, fate overlooked you,

Alone, you will wander, the cost is many souls.

When I stopped chanting, the parchment and the book had disappeared. My boyfriend stomped in the front door. Before I gave him a hello kiss, he said: ” Something about you is different.” Then I kissed him hungrily and he disintegrated in my hands. I burst into tears and I learned the price of eternal life — my kiss was the kiss of death.

——-
 

http://www.publicdomainarchives.com
 

——

Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting this Flash Fiction challenge.

——-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.