Notable Quotes: Special New Years Edition – January 2018 #pinterest #quotes


Happy New Years! As I put this piece together we have about ten minutes to go in Alberta, Canada. Mother Nature, as she did in many parts of the world, decided to make it more than minus forty degrees Celsius with the wind chill so most of the New Years events here were cancelled.

The fireworks, I believe were still happening, but they were supposed to be earlier this year for families and kids, but I didn’t hear any fireworks popping and crackling yet. I usually do from where we live. Anyways I hope you enjoyed your New Years celebrations tucked snug in your home, at a party, or at New Years events. Wishing you all much happiness and joy.

So, here we go . . . Oh the fireworks have started. ūüéČ Some of these quotes are a bit cheeky, as well.


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© Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 26/Tale Weavers: Poem – Free Verse – ‚ÄúNever Again‚ÄĚ #taleweavers #poetry #amwriting


OctPoWriMo 26 has a picture theme today, so see below. I‚Äôm combining with Tale Weaver Prompt #141 from  Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. The Tale Weavers Prompt is on the legends of unicorns. 

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Credit: Piotr Siedlecki – Public Domain

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie from Michael

—–

Magic and myth collide, 

Rare, blissful; 

Amazingly significant. 

Hooves strong enough, 

To gallop up on dove white wings. 

Of Pegasus ‚Äė lineage, 

Eyes blue,

Lapiz Luzili crystals. 

Gentle and mild, 

Unicorn horn of ‚ÄĒ

Ivory as elephants; 

Kin of narwhales. 

Shadowfax at the dawn, 

Galloping in the light. 

Awe and realization, 

A tiny hope blossoms, 

As the fire around us burns, 

On your back, 

I‚Äôm not even singed. 

My legs hold me close, 

Bareback riding, 

Feeling muscles, 

Awe inspiring strength. 

Hot breath labored, 

To safety we fly. 

In the clouds above the moon, 

Where the sun rises, 

Droppimg on the softness, 
Of the Pacific‚Äôs wet sand. 

Then you are gone, 

Unabashed of ‚ÄĒ

The stories strangers will tell.

Feeling your history, 

The loss of your kin, 

Your presence is ‚ÄĒ

A rarity. 

Noble and elegant, 

Completely authentic. 

Like no other, 

It‚Äôs why we call what‚Äôs rare, 

A unicorn, 

For it and you, 

 Will never be again.

‚ÄĒ‚ÄĒ-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: A Thousand Was Not Enough #fiction #amwriting #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. 

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Credit: Dev Benjamin via Unsplash

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Scattered in vivacious colors, a thousand was not enough, but would’ve a thousand paper cranes healed you, done anything? I guess they weren’t for you, they were for me, to keep my hands busy as your eyes glassed over and the pain meds kicked in; they stopped me from crying out from asking, why you didn’t even try to heal, for you, for me. I leaned over your bedside the paper cranes around us and you gave me a half grin with your dimpled cheek, somehow there when all other reserves of flesh were gone; then you were gone before I could  memorize your last smile. 

——-

¬©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Prose Poetry – “Chop, chop. He Chops” #amwriting #flashfiction #lumberjack #prosepoetry


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Loretta Notto

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Chop, Chop. Chop the wood. Repeat. Chop. Chop. Day ends — Supper. Shower. Sleep too deep. Jarring alarm, awake again. Breakfast. Shower. Sore muscles hurt. Heat eases. More coffee. Uniform and axe. Greet the guys. Say hello — going off. All directions on the forest grid. Each with a partner. Nick is with me. A cadence of chops. Echoes. Chop. Chop. Chop the wood. Split it. Chop, chop. Chop the wood. The trees are felled. Grinding buzzing. Giant chain saw. Felling trees. Cutting logs. Then we chop. Chop, chop. Chop the wood. Lunch. Hungry. Seconds. Chop. Home. Shower. Supper. Eat. Sore muscles. Sleep and dream. Standing there. In her T-shirt. Sweet lips. Short shorts. Gentle laughter. Stroke of hand. Touch. So real. Chop, chop. Chop the wood. Dreaming. She’s gone. Three hours. Then, chop, chop. Chop the wood. 

——-

¬©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 26- NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – “Under the Same Moon” #poetry #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #future


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write about wondering what “future archaeologists, whether human or from an alien civilization, will make of us . . . exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.” Thanks to Michael of last week’s Tale Weavers from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie¬†who provided a prompt about the moon.¬†As well for A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s quote the letter today is the letter¬†W.¬†


The Moon
Credit: Michael – MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie

” . . . All that is now / [a]ll that is gone/ [a]ll that’s to come / and everything under the sun is in tune/ but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

“There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it’s all dark.”
‚ÄĒ Roger Waters


Gazing into the future, ‘neath a pale moon gleaming bright,

Hard to believe, people who were, saw the same moon’s shining light.

They had houses, electricity.

So many ethnicities.

It’s different now, the gene pool changed,

Those who look unique all estranged.

All look like us, all brown eyes, dark hair, and medium skin too.

I can scarce picture blond, red-haired, green eyes, or eyes so blue.


Genetic defects they called them, so now we’re all plain, the same,

It’s weird to think, they dyed their hair, all colors, none went gray.

How was it to be individual,

Not for the whole good — sacrificial.

What makes a person now is,

Incredibly different knowing this —

Society of people who fell as those before left their cities,

Frames of what once was, rusted metal, not all that pretty.


Their language full of slang, we cannot pin down lingiustics,

Cannot find words, spoken globally, their lyrics I sing.

But their music is strange, listened —

To some and our technology it fits.

Technology they had weird, but we —

Discover strange things, sound gleaned.

Words not understandable but melodies clear and bright,

 Music is forbidden, I sing in secrecy to ancient tunes light.


Some days we watch their stories, their films, when the moon is round.

My favorite days, those brilliant plays, words with lovely sound.

And we find little toys, scrapbooks, phones,

While in the distance the guns drone.

Each man, each woman a soldier,

Controlled by who knows? With no souls.

No hope as those gone far ago had, of a war ending soon,

Gazing into the future, we lived under the same moon.


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Day 23 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Photo Challenge: Poem – Elevenie – “The Mending Woman” #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #photochallenge¬†


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write, “an elevenie. An an eleven-word poem of five lines, with each line performing a specific task in the poem. The first line is one word, a noun. The second line is two words that explain what the noun in the first line does, the third line explains where the noun is in three words, the fourth line provides further explanation in four words, and the fifth line concludes with one word that sums up the feeling or result of the first line‚Äôs noun being what it is and where it is.”

The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s prompt is for the letter T. Also thank you to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo challenge. 

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Credit: Source Unknown

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“[F]abrics doesn’t make exquisite dresses, it is the stitches. — Treasure Stitches

———

Seamstress,

Sewing powerlines, 

Deserted highway dusk. 

She fixes everything she’s —

Skilled. 

—–

Highway, 

Snowy, windy,

Middle of countryside 

A giant needle weaves, 

Stitches.

——-

Seamstress, 

Never pausing, 

Amidst winding roads, 

Fixing energies flow, she’s 

Wired. 

——

Fixer, 

Forever career, 

Barren places found,

Mending for others but —

Forlorn.  

——

Belongings, 

In backpack, 

Town to Town, 

Igniting power’s wicked spark, 

Gone.

——-

Hitchhiker, 

Purposeful steps, 

Melting snow puddles, 

Spring follows, winter mended, 

Warmth. 

Mender, 

Stitching problems, 

Walks estranged roads, 

Sewing all problems, she —

Disappears

—–

Gone, 

Out of —

Sight of strangelands, 

Goes where the wind, 

Blows. 

——–



——-

¬©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Collage Prompt: Poem – Rictameter – “Books and Cherries” #amwriting #poetry #collage


Thanks to¬†MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie¬†for hosting this week’s Collage Prompt.


Collage MLMM
Credit: Shawn Van Deale the woman on the left: Johnny Palacois the woman/aloe vera plant on the right.

Humming,

As the bird who’s —

Thrumming in the air,

Struggling for each flutter so

Rapid; so utterly fast it’s blurring.

My wings in flight are haze to you,

You don’t see underneath;

Desperation,

Humming.

——

Darkness,

Arising in —

My stomach, spiraling,

To the surface out of my —

Broken soul that I mend in those worlds found,

In each and every story, novels —

Ending hiding; I’m no —

Crab in my shell’s —

Darkness.

——-

In dreams,

I writhe, I twist,

Tales of old and new —

Follow me when enters Sandman,

To calm adventures stripping me of sleep.

But just as I live in my books,

I live in nightmarish —

Tales at midnight,

In dreams.

——-

Awake,

Oh, sheltered one.

Let the black smoke rise, cleanse

Your body from your shattered self,

Set free your mind, let your spirit live,

Life’s the greatest adventure,

Stories read fill gaps;

Burst forth spirit,

Awake.

———

Cherries,

You’re sexy¬† as,

Women who curl cherry —

Stems into knots with skillful tongues.

Unafraid to bare your body,

When it’s appreciated.

With love, you expose your —

Soul; All for ripe

Cherries.

—-

As books,

Sweet red cherries,

From the Okanagan,

A valley of delicacies.

Driving through B.C. in summer, you —

Stop at every fruit stand,

Selling juicy fruit — truths;

Cherries savored,

As books.

—–

Smokescreen,

Floats up swirls as —

Papal smoke; the blackness,

Forgiven reading thousands

Of tales, every genre, every language.

Devouring¬†‘reads’¬†as cherries,

Demons gone; living with —

Wisdom taught, no —

Smokescreen.

——

Light’s¬†glow,

In each tale read.

Nourishes¬†souls; keeps me —

Aching to learn, wanting to know,

Of worlds, fantastic characters —

With hubris, compelling charm.

While some characters are —

Searching hard for,

Light’s glow.

—–

Writing,

It filled holes,

Torn in souls, in hearts wrecked,

The reader became author,

Discovering within her fingers lies a —

Haven, a solace of peace, rest;

Because the story grows —

In her,¬†exposing —

Writing.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Tale Weavers: Poem – Free Verse – “Without You” #taleweavers #poetry #amwriting


Last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt was to use the code pictured below, in telling a story. Thanks to¬†Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie¬†for hosting.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

 

——

Your garbled words, they don’t make sense,

They were the last words you wrote, then;

You disappeared, no trace of whence,

You’d return, so explain again,

Why you left me alone heart so rent? 

Why you can’t explain our¬†past tense?

You’re not weak, but through aged lense,

Disease stole my gentlemen.

You were young, full of life intense;

With passion for dreams, no pretense.

The man you were is gone; he’s distant,

Lost, his last thoughts code absurd.

I don’t understand, things he heard,

Why he aged quickly; ill concerned,

For someone who used direct words.

Now your life is finite, deterred.

You aren’t who I knew, you’re gone, turned;

Alzheimer’s stole you — who you were,

I’m the woman left behind blurred;

A ghost — now we’re both unheard.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Poem – Synchronocity – “Beach Day” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: Roger Shipp

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Sand beach, I bury my toes,

Sand squishes between them, I sigh;

Happy.

——

Blue sky so clear, clouds like cotton, 

 Feel at home, reading trashy book;

Engrossed. 

——

Hearing waves crashing in and out, 

Aroma of salt, sea; sun streams;

Sunscreened. 

—–

Scents of cocoanut and aloe 

SPF 100 or I’ll burn quick;

Smoothed in. 

——

Floppy hat and Marilyn swim suit, 

Magazines read while the dog splashes;

Relaxed. 

——

Blanket soft with a bit of sand,

Jackie.O sunglasses worn; 

Content. 

——

Wet dog shaking everywhere, 

Angry crab in dogs mouth shook;

Laughing 

——-

Calm, tranquility; wading in, 

Ocean’s rhythm soothes, stops thinking;

Forget. 

******

 Sky fading purple; ocean green —

Dark and ominous, storm coming;

Watchful. 

——

Rain starts to fall, cold and loud, 

Taking umbrella down, packing;

Forced home. 

——

Perfect beach moment gone for now, 

Sitting in the cabin, storm roars;

Rain pours. 

—–

Sleeping in silken covers, dog stretching,  

She’s bathed, we’re napping, resting time; 

Cuddles. 

——-

¬©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

 

Photo Challenge: Poem – Blitz – “Returning” #amwriting #poetry¬†


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

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Credit: Mario Gervals

——

Aurora-borealis paints the sky

Hues of light to charm

Charm the cold from old man winter’s grasp

Charm the sky hovering, colours delightful still

Still as the snow when it stops

Still as the young man in the living room

Room in a home where he’s troubled 

Room of the television — loud sports

Sports of the freezing weather

Sports loved best

Best loved is hockey

Best loved he watches, engrained 

Engrained in the screen

Engrained in the game 

Game on and he misses his wife as she drives away

Game of his wife searching for time

Time ended when she him left 

Time is new for her; he doesn’t care now

Now she moves on 

Now she is but thrilled

Thrilled, yet in a storm she drives

Thrilled to have escaped without another fight 

Fights always happen

Fights which got worse, never stopped

Stopped when she rethought her life

Stopped when she said, “I’m gone” 

Gone while the new sliver of a TV loudly plays

Gone, he knows it it, feels depressed

Depressed at the mess of his life

Depressed, slight lines etched into his face

Face with red eyes

Face with mouth stifling sobs

Sobs because she’s gone for good

Sobs because she gazed at him appalled

Appalled because he always yelled

Appalled because he’s why ‘they’re finished

Finished forever, she’s free

Finished, but she’s not safe in such a blizzarding storm

Storm outside flinging snow in his face

Storm outside, her car didn’t make it far

Far off and tired the look in her eyes

Far off but tears streaming ’cause she’s stuck 

Stuck in the bank of snow 

Stuck in her life, no escape

Escape life here, without him?

Escape yet, she’s glad, for her, he came 

Came, so she takes him back; he understands now

Came, so they return to times where they showed

Showed love, affection where no distance divides 

Now acts of love, little things, change the future

—–

¬©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.