Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: Someday Love #amwriting #flashfiction #nonfiction 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt on love

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Love is all you need? Whoever said that perhaps was in the first stages of love.They hadn’t seen the nitty gritty yet, what separates those we love and those who truly love us from those who are but memories or experiences in our lives. To be honest with you, I’ve realized what I’ve felt of being ‘in’ love was so short it was hardly there. But I know what it was because I know what love’s not. It hurts thinking back to that time even though it was barely real. 

I was also with a guy much longer and the love I tried to convince myself I felt, didn’t exist. In a sense I’m glad it wasn’t authentic because love is painful. It doesn’t mean because you’re in love with someone everything’s suddenly perfect. Love in relationships is a ton of work combined with trust which takes time to build. It’s a given your other half will do stupid and thoughtless things at times and so will you. Whatever the relationship, we’re all human and make mistakes and sometimes those mistakes are huge and hurtful. 

But in the spaces in-between are these perfect moments of sometimes physical but always heartfelt gestures of love, fleeting but memorable; these are the moments lovers live for. Love is being unselfish and it’s difficult for any human to consider someone else before themselves all the time. It would seem to me we need so much more than only love. But I know lasting love is possible because I know my Lord who says: “We love, because her first loved us.” With those words in my life, I feel this whole ‘true love’ thing might be a possibility someday. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Absolut Apeach – with Song and Dance


I don’t know what the future holds, it’s vapour and ash in the palm of my hand. I try to tell myself, time will tell, but my thoughts are a muse that inspires; the present feels like I’m singing an epicedium, a word that has meaning to mourn;

It’s so challenging to be sitting here and waiting for the funeral to end; hello, Adele, can you hear me crank up something with a beat and dancing feet will swarm. I am looking for that lamp that always guides my feet, to take me out of depressing hymns and into the feelings of the warm breath of dawn, and life, and being a part of something outside myself and my musings. 

Sing a cheerful song, grab a partner and make a connection, a reflection in the looking glass; the print of today’s paper is bigger, but so was last night’s complications, corrections, don’t be so dull or forlorn. I am waiting for such answers, a teacher marking tests, never finding the perfect words, until one student finally understands the form. And with all of this frantic writing, we need translation we need more words, slang, and hyperbolation is the night’s score;

A rhythm finally knocking, some tapping, the sound of a thousand voices humming, to the typing of a sentence, say the right words, let learning explode. Implosions are the stars delight, it implies a meaning that can be found, in the exestential crisis explained by all this science; faith is not only one word.

And you might go hopping quietly down the rabbit hole, but drink the tea and eat the cakes, now your bonkers it’s too late; in all the madness, and hats that we wear in life, to let the mouse out of the tea pot and bring peace to so much, guiless sneaks evil, in the form of mockery, and jesting — it’s just a joke that a cat can only understand.

If we pick up some beats, will slumber cease, can I find some elaboration? One time, on hellos, and goodbyes. I’m not coming back, the grass is greener here. Don’t you know that’s not always just some saying, to keep people from being escapists and running to the otherside.

Ground at our boots, lets let the melody unfold in loops, candy canes on parade, no Christmas yet; there’s snow to make us tremble, the semblance of the night is roughly raging and you can’t just go inside you need to stay and improvise; it’s a party for the roaring of the singing voices, and those that dance suggested.

I implore you listen and read into the gestures made awkwardly by the person talking; can you think for yourself, see the truth in motions, not emotion, that could be fake; no liars here, they can disappear. They are oblivious to these simple truths we hold so dear, keep the bell ringing for tonight we gain a truth; instead of lies, it’s a surprise, now appear. Bow low before the crowd you’ve enchanted with a voice so clear.