Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 21 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /Music Prompt: Poem – Octaine Refrain – “Just Because You Can” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #MusicChallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt us “to write a poem that incorporates overheard speech, I’m using a part of song lyrics.” The A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s author’s Quote is for the letter R. Also I’m incorporating MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Music Prompt on the Dolly Parton Song “Jolene” performed recently with the a capella group Pentatonix. 

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Credit: http://www.bodybuilding.com Forums
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When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.” ― George R.R. Martin

——–

Please don’t take my man, just because you can, 

Your beauty is immeasurable, unique, 

I wish my man wasn’t who you were seeking. 

I know my request you don’t understand, 

You can love again and do it easily. 

I wish you didn’t make him feel so pleased, 

He loved me before your auburn hair strands, 

Brushed past his face, and made him so weak. 

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 
——

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 

Your voice so soft like summer rain, laughing, 

Your sense of humour for him attractive. 

You float through life a stunning star ambling, 

Not thinking of women like me you hurt. 

Your seduction done so freely, not worth —

The heartache you cause just because you can. 

I can’t love again, so value what you have, 

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 

——–

“Jolene” – Dolly Parton and Pentatonix

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©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. 

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Credit: Zhangjinga.com

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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. 

Actor/ Actress, Beauty, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Free Verse, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

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Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

——

As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

——

Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

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You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

—–

Credit: Laces and Tiaras

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

One-Hundred-Word Wednesday Flash Fiction: No Longer Lost #flashfiction #fiction #amwriting #100wordwednesday 


Thank you to Bikergurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesdays.

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Credit: Shaksome Gangwar via Upslash

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Cale ensured he arrived at the beach before sunrise. The sun peaked over the mountains in the distance. Then slowly the light crept in to highlight foam capped ocean waters. The light encompassed the night sky, turning darkness into a washed out pale blue accented by a wash of orange. 

The brilliant sunrise continued and Cale felt the welcome warmth in his limbs, humming in  rhythm with the tide. He was thrilled, filled with a buoyant happiness he hadn’t felt in ages. 

Shifting his backpack, he noticed the shimmer of gold dust raining down on him, as his body began to float off the beach. 

A radiant sparkle in front of him giggled: ” ‘Second star to the right , straight on ’till morning,’ right?” He smiled, no longer a lost boy. 

——–

” Lost Boy” – Ruth B 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Writing

We’ll All Float on, Okay.


I often find myself thinking about how I am progressing in life? I always had lofty goals for myself and no doubt that I would accomplish my goals with enough hard work. Now that I am cursed with a lack of energy I wonder how I will complete my personal goals. Other people have given me goals and I have risen to the challenge in the past but my worst competitor has always been myself. So meeting my personal goals is an issue for me, especially being as isolated as I am.

Life has seemed to slow down for me as getting a project done in 1 day has now become 3 days and that push in my head to carry on is drowned out by thoughts that are not clear and a dull tiredness that does not seem to get better anymore. Yes, I am the hardest on myself but when I see where other people in my life have gotten to at my age, what former University classmates have become, and what I had in mind for myself 5 years ago, I have not met my goals and this is frustrating.

My greatest goal is to be a writer and to be a recognized writer, someone who is excellent at her job and important in the writing industry. But I have found my goal to be a writer very challenging. First, going from someone who could barely write after a depressive episode to becoming someone who writes everyday of her life was a challenge. Now making sure my grammar and wording is correct, getting beyond the nay sayers who pick out mistakes in my work is difficult. I have never been a perfectionist but I know this is an area I require improvement in. I am really trying and I want my work to be good enough to stand on its own. But it is most difficult to keep moving past the people who would always point out your mistakes. Up to this point, the best techniques I have learned to edit my work is to read it out loud and to leave it for a while, sometimes a day. Then I see all the little mistakes and mis-wordings. But I can tell you now I do not see these little mistakes as easily as I once did and that’s what I am really hoping PR helps me to do – perfect my work. Make it more professional.

Another frustrating aspect of being a writer, is getting your work out there, getting it known. I try sites like GURU for instance, and it is very difficult to get your Proposals to be chosen. Near impossible I find. Despite all my examples of writing from Flurt, despite all my blogs, there is still so little that I know. There is the web side to writing that leaves me wondering if I should get some training there, there is also the creative side to writing that I am working on slowly, and there  is other types of PR type writing I’m hoping to gain experience in.

www.nicholasfergusan.org
http://www.nicholasfergusan.org

What is really hard, is falling so far. Going from someone who excelled at work and school to someone who is always fighting just to better herself, to stay awake all day, to earn a living by a skill that so many people think they can do. I know I have the raw talent but recognition remains difficult, so does perfection, so does saying what I need to say in the right way.  What I loved about working was I always had mentors, to fight by yourself is a really hard road to take. How do you make yourself stand out from the crowd? I’m not sure.

Everybody wants something different and it’s hard to tell what that is. But I am learning a thing or two. The most important thing I am learning is to keep writing anyways. Good or bad, grammar good or not, I write. Perseverance in any job or hobby is critical. The second thing I learned is that failing is good. If you fail a thousand times and do well just once, then you have done your job. Life is about failing although we like to think it is about succeeding, really it’s about rearranging our circumstances and making something good come out of the bad.

www.brainwads.net
http://www.brainwads.net

Life is also about seeing things relatively speaking. Maybe a good day for me is when I get 10 likes on my blog, or a comment on one of my articles. Maybe a bad day is when I realized I could have said a lot more about that subject but was too tired to write more. Everything is relative, because everyone has different tastes and audiences. But really in someway I think things turn out okay anyways. One day where someone says I really liked your article about . . . can make a hundred other not so good days seem fantastic.  As the band Modest Mouse sang ” And, we’ll all float on, okay. And we’ll all float on, okay. And we’ll all float on, okay. And we’ll all float on alright.” Everything is going to be okay.