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Day 29 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Photo Challenge: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Arbitrary Blackness” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #SylviaPlath


Thanks to NEKEEREJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. For NaPoWriMo the prompt is ” to take one of your favorite poems and find a very specific, concrete noun in it. . . After you’ve chosen your word, put the original poem away and spend five minutes free-writing associations – other nouns, adjectives, etc. Then use your original word and the results of your free-writing as the building blocks for a new poem. The last letter of the A to Z Challenge is of course the letter Z for a GoodRead’s quote. 

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Credit: Andi Abdul Halil

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All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.” — Sun Tzu, The Art of War

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Noun – “arbitrary blackness” 

– “drops dead, “head,” imagined you”, come home, never did, lost love, war, hoping, never returned so he was lost in the war, she becomes this blackness, because he is gone, “Satan’s men” – the Nazi’s in Germany, exit, dreamed was with him in bed, dreams always, but she is mad, he exists no longer, never returned so never was? 

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They say this is no war for girls to fight in,

The men go off to fight their battles, estranged.

For everyone, life’s callous rearranged.

If he’s out there, he’s changed, sick as sin. 

Everyone, everywhere drops dead, there’s no win.

In cities, in ghettos, wars collide. 

Drop dead, silly head, mad but I’m alive. 

Gone for all time, years ago in air thin

Arbitrary blackness fills my soul. 

Satan’s men on trial, live in soul’s holes. 

With those from the camps, fuel for fire.

Haunted dreams, PTSD now respired. 

Mad to love you, but I wait and desire.

Arbitrary blackness still encloses.

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Credit: Sylvia Plath – http://www.pinterest.com

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Blank Verse - unrhymed Iambic Pentameter, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 6 -NaPoWriMo/ A to Z Challenge/ Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Blank Verse – “Coal Dust for Sunlight” #poetry #amwriting #flashfiction #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem that looks at the same thing from various points of view.” The corresponding GoodRead’s quote for the A to Z Challenge is the letter E. 

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Credit: Yarn Spinner
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“It’s one of those things a person has to do; sometimes a person has to go a very long distance out of his way to come back a short distance correctly.” ― Edward Albee, The American Dream & The Zoo Story

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Down in the swamp, down in the bogs there’s —

Mud sucking at my feet, at my soul

Everyday I journey here and fight, 

The elements, the giant rocks, gnarled trees, 

Worst of all the swamp, pulling me in. 

There are days I believe I shall let it, 

But my wife she sees, working here means, 

In such a short while, we shall both be free. 

She says, we’re educated, we have more —

To us than meets the eye, we’ve wisdom

To work in horrible conditions, 

Because we know two years from now we —

Can leave this wretched bog behind, with all —

The tortures of the tormenting tree limbs, 

Nightmares left, there’s better; we’re going —

To the City, where education’s worth —

Something and I won’t have to hate each day. 

Mining for fuel, this coal coating my lungs, 

My wife’s happy, delighted, she is life

So I listen to my fathers last words:

“Don’t stay in this town all your life, move on. 

Take your girl, your college education, 

Leave this foul place behind, don’t be me, 

Coal dust in your lungs is misery and —

A cancerous death is what awaits you.” 

So, I worked and she and I, we left here

To the bustling city, with peaceful parks, 

We breathe, ‘neath blossomed trees, reading in light. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, May Day Prompts, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Maydays: Poem-Free Verse – “Burning Him Down” #Maydays #amwriting



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Thank you to K.L. Caley of new2writing for hosting #Maydays prompts. This prompt has to do with fire or anything relating to fire.

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http://www.pinterest.com

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He peeks at her below a baseball hat,

He’s plays with a match; he doesn’t even —

Realize he’s heading for the flames and —

He’ll be consumed by an inferno fast.

Her lips are scarlet sin, and she is —

Sucking back her whiskey; burning down —

Her soft white throat, it smokes and his gaze means–

He’s buying her next round, with Diet Coke.

Her eyes are amber flashes, synging with —

Coal black and thickened eyelashes; she is —

Fluttering at him; sulphurous voice sings.

Dissolving smoke; she’ll set fire rational.

(Any he had) until he’s choking ashy smoke —

Second -hand; a dangerous demon, 

Sitting on his knee; his fantasy he —

Inhales and she’s blackening his weak heart.

She’s burning through his defence and he is–

Lusting for her skin; white ash torching within, 

He’s never going to win; she’s hell —

Burning him for sin; passion ignited, 

A red lighter starts the desire smoking.

She’ll go through him; like cigarettes lit, 

Feeding her ire, her desire; he’s on trial.

Pointed heels lost, fire engine red toes peek, 

He worships at her feet, and she consumes him.

She stands flames enveloping her; within her.

Enthralling curves and eyes seeing inside him, 

Thawing out the cold; she’ll burn him down.

Raging inferno of heat, flames will kill him.

A pile of ashes she leaves in his stead.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Event, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

NaPoWriMo: Poem – Earth – Etheree- “Caretakers Beware”


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And now for our (optional) prompt. Today’s prompt comes to us from Gloria Gonsalves, who also suggested our prompt for Day Seven. Today, Gloria challenges us all to write a poem in honor of Earth Day. This could be about your own backyard, a national park, or anything from a maple tree to a humpback whale. Happy writing!

For more information please see NaPoWriMo. The poem form is Etherees, repeated, and turned upside down, and written as they are.


Mother Earth
http://www.fitfitmagazine.nl

Calling her Mother, created in beginning,

Adoration is hers, our provider,

Gods hands formed, but yet she falters,

He said be her caregiver,

Taking more then we’re meant,

Using her until she —

Is broken, torn,

We gouged,

For fuel,

Earth.

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Child,

of her,

Beginnings,

Forgetting our place,

Nurture her as she,

Nurtures her caretakers,

Ignorance destroys beauty,

Creator so lovingly beheld and,

Let us name earth’s creatures — disappearing.

Don’t forget, protect earth, greed consumes her.


Through thousands, perhaps, millions of years past,

She’s shifted and shook, born massive waves.

Mother’s rage, brings disastrous tears,

Volcanoes spewing lava,

Mountains losing their face,

Forests, fires, and ash.

Tornado wound,

Earth torn

Lost.

Our,

fault true,

Had we not,

Eaten forbidden,

Earth would be perfect,

Sin infects entire world,

Blame ourselves for her eruptions,

Our Forefathers, corrupted nature complete.

Earth’s damage repair, or she self-destructs.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.


 

 

My Thoughts, Writing

Writing 101: Day 1 – I Write Because…


Prompt: Why do you write? This is a question you can answer again and again, as your response might evolve over time. You may have already addressed it in a previous blog post. Some bloggers also use this question, and variations of it, to shape their bios and About pages. Why am I here? Who am I? Why do I blog?
Sorry, I’m a bit late starting Writing 101, but here is Day 1.

Writing is as breathing. It happens without me being fully aware of it. An idea strikes across my mind, something is triggered. And I go onto my blog and I write. I often write a poem. I think for me that is my most free writing of all. But I like writing about picture or word prompts. I enjoy it when I am prompted by some experience I am having in life, or an idea I read about in the paper or on the Internet, or what I see on the news. I am prompted by other writers and their exquisite pieces or blogs. 

I love that in writing you are always learning. Learning to make connections to your audience, to reach out to them on a subject. I love what you perceive from their responses to your writing, and I love how with time one’s writing improves. I have learnt when to cut my writing to a couple hundred words or less in flash fiction. Often, this is difficult because you have to make every word you write mean what you want it to mean. I have learnt to “show” not “tell” my reader what is going on. I still struggle with that. I have learnt to be descriptive, to widen my vocabulary. And I just love to play with words as if they were puzzle pieces you are desperately trying to make fit into a puzzle. Words are also like chess pieces and only you know how to move your pieces to reach your final masterpiece and take the King. 

Writing is living, it’s a way to see a situation clearly. It’s a method of purging myself of sorrow or frustration. It reminds me of times past when I read over it again. It inspires me to try out things in life because with writing you need experiences to talk about it. Writing has allowed me to meet people all around the world. Writing is how I make it through the day and what keeps me up at night. Writing is truly breathing. If you want to know what’s in my heart, see what I wrote, it’s more apparent then my spoken words. I am the fire, and the written word fuels me.