Poem: Free Verse – “Just Go”


http://www.blogingleinternational.com

—–

I want to just go, 

Travel somewhere,

Where waterfalls splash,

And swimming is the norm.

—–

I want to just go,

See the Duomo in Florence.

Walk the streets of Milan.

See so much art, I’m blinded.

—–

I want to just go,

View waters so blue.

See Coral reefs glow.

Relax in the sand.

—-

I want to just go,

Shop silk scarves, leather shoes,

Barter and buy,

Even though I’ve been taken.

——

I want to just go,

Drink bellinies and Margaritas,

Do a few shots straight tequila,

Sit on the deck, by the pool.

—–

I want to just go,

Hike the trail through fiolage,

Pretend I’ve no allergies,

See the sunset at night.

—–

I want to just go,

But limitations stop me,

Energy and time,

Money and people too.

—– 

I want to just go,

Someday I’ll break free.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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“Oh The Places You’ll Go” – A List of My Dream Destinations 


1. France

a. Paris

 

Paris, France
 
b. Lyon

 

Lyon, France
 
c. Capri

 

Capri, France
 
d. Nice, France

Nice, France

——–
2. Italy

a. Florence

 

Florence, Italy
 
b. Rome

 

Rome, Italy
 
c. Venice

  

Venice, Italy
 
d. Milan

 

Milan, Italy
 
e. Tuscany

Tuscany, Italy

—–
3. Greece

a. Athens

  

Athens, Greece
 
b. Santorini

Santorini, Greece

—–
4. Spain

a. Madrid

 

Madrid, Spain
 
b. Grenada

Grenada, Spain

—–
5. Hawaii

a. Hawaii

 

Hawaii
 
b. Maiu

Maiu

c. Oaha

 

Oaha
 
——-

Thanks to Le Duchesse D’Erat for her list writing prompts.

Sunday Photo Fiction: A Perfect Wife


I never thought I would be one to travel a great deal but I had been all around Europe this past year. Now, I was staying at a hotel in Amsterdam. On my way to get coffee, I noticed a man following me. He was dressed well and reminded me  of a how the Italian`s dressed, very sharp and expensive.

I remained in the crowds trying to lose my tail and I worked my way back to my hotel room. I thought I was safe in my hotel but my hands were grabbed and tied behind me as  I opened my suitcase. I was pulled over my stalkers shoulder and eventually placed in the back seat of a car.

” Sit back, Natasha, relax. I would never hurt you,”  my kidnapper reasoned.

” Then why would you kidnap me?” I yelled at the stranger.

” Mama says I need a wife and I want a pretty Canadian wife. I have lots of money. Plus, look at me? I’m hot you are lucky to have me for a husband.”

I tried the locks on the doors.” I want to go back to my hotel now. I have a fiance, I don’t need a husband.” I lied.

The man laughed at me and reached back to pat my arm. “I will make you forget about him.”

” I don’t want to be your wife!” I scream.

The man shrugged. ” My Mama and I picked you out in Florence. You helped a little boy find his lost parents and Mama said ‘She’s your wife.’ Mama is never wrong.”

I shuddered.

Dutch House

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting!

 

 

 

 

 

Writing 101 – The Red Sweater


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http://www.optimalchiro.ie

A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.

Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view: from the perspective of the man, then the woman, and finally the old woman.

 

He hadn’t always wanted  a child. Michael found them messy and loud, a disturbance to his peace of mind. Then, Natalie became pregnant and the way he thought about a child changed. He could see her belly grow and feel the child kicking, a life force all her own saying, ” It’s me Dad. It’s me Mom. Are you out there?” Then the day came when Natalie started having large contractions and he drove her to the hospital excitedly proud that he would be a new Dad soon. The labour took hours and when the baby was born Natalie and Michael waited for it to give that first piercing cry of life, but the little one never cried. She didn’t move, she was still and remained still.

Walking through the park that day with Natalie the tiny red sweater reminded him of their lost baby and he wept. Was it his fault because he hadn’t wanted a baby in the first place that their little girl died?

Natalie watched her husband cry and at first, she didn’t know why. Mike was not an emotional man, she had rarely seen him cry except for maybe after she had given birth to a still-born child in the hospital. Then Natalie saw the little red sweater an old women was knitting and she understood why Michael wept. He was remembering the baby. She grimaced. Hours of labour and she had give birth to a lifeless doll. She didn’t understand why but the baby episode, all the preparations, the looking forward to the baby, the labour, had all made her feel numb. Natalie felt as if she didn’t exist as if her and Michael were 2 completely different people since that time 2-years ago. Mike had wanted another baby as soon as possible, she had shaken her head sadly at him and said, ” Maybe in a few years.” But Natalie didn’t know if a few years would ever come.

Grandma Florence sat happily knitting a little red sweater for her first grandchild. She was ecstatic and had even thought that none of her kids would have grandchildren, since they were all in their late 30’s anyways. She held up the tiny red sweater and a man walking by her with his wife begin to cry in earnest. Florence wondered why she holding up a little red sweater, would make anybody cry? Babies brought joy the world. They were the promise that life, that the world would continue with a piece of you in it. She shook her head absently, noticed she had goofed up the last stitch and went back to finishing the sweater on the bench. Her sparkling eyes and ruddy cheeks gave her the look of a grandma who was extremely happy and had never experienced what Natalie and Michael went through. She had other things to focus on.