Current Events, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, November Notes, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Shakespearean Sonnet - iambic pentameter abab cdcd efef gg, Writing, Writing Challenges

#NovemberNotes Day 1/ Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – English Sonnet – “Take Me Back” #poetry #amwriting


Good Morning. For this month I will be finishing off OctPoWrMo and taking part in November Notes held by Sarah Doughty of Heart String Eulogies. For November 1st, the song is “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron. Also, I’m combining this prompt with Scribbler’s Dip Sunday Writing Prompt using the titles of 10 books (choosing 3) to describe. 


Raphael Fabricio Unsplash Night We Met
Credit: Raphael Fabricio via Unsplash

 “The Night We Met” – Lord Huron 

Book Titles:

Milk and Honey

The Sun and Her Flowers 

We’ll All Be Burnt in Our Beds Some Nights

My Husband’s Wife 

—-

Life in the land of Milk And Honey is sweet, 

Sweeter yet we’re the night’s we were complete. 

Lacing are hands and arms, dreams replete, 

So take me back to the night that we met. 

Sometimes I had most of you maybe not all, 

Sometimes bits and pieces holding their thrall. 

I wanted more of you — not your regret, 

So take me back to the night that we met. 

We’re [Both] Burnt in Our Beds Some Nights grieving,

Being your Husband’s Wife, you’ll never leave. 
But The Sun and Her Flowers call, daylight sets, 
So take me back to the night that we met. 

Once I had all of you, most nights confessed, 

So take me back to the night that we met. 

—-

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Food/Recipes, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Sunday Photo Fiction, Triolet - ABaAabAB - 1,4,7 repeat and 2,8 repeat., Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 27 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/SPF: Poem – Triolet – “Taste of Spring” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is a “challenge . . . to write a poem that explores your sense of taste! This could be a poem about food, or wine, or even the oddly metallic sensation of a snowflake on your tongue.” Also thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. For the A to Z Challenge, today’s GoodRead’s letter is the letter X. 


SPF Tree, Vines
Credit: John Brand

“I could recognise his soul in mine as much as he could find me in his. Our sole existences seemed to have been for this very moment when nothing else mattered.” X. Williamson (Distract My Hunger)


They air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung,

Lilacs on my lips, flavor of crisp leaves.

In the garden, scent of spring on my tongue.

The air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung.

Inhaling soft florals, fragrance in my lungs.

Breathing in and out, tastes chase what I’m grieving.

The air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung,

Lilacs on my lips, flavor of crisp leaves.


img_3554-10

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Poetry, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Day 4 – Poem – Octaine Refrain – “Set Free” #novembernotes #amwriting #poetry


Today’s prompt song is “Between the Lines” by Sara Bareillas:

——-

Between the Lines” – Sara Bareillas 

——-

“Leave unsaid unspoken / Eyes wide shut unopened / You and me / Always be / You and me /Always between the lines.” 

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

——

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

I missed the obvious closing my lids.

Was blind to what you were doing, and did.

Eyes wide opened, she appeared frustration! 

I never thought I was abandoning us. 

But was I? You turned to her, your voice hushed.  

Jealousy felt, her familiar name cuts. 

 Thought we were joined, in-between the lines. 

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

——

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

Weren’t we together in love? You’re now of me rid. 

Your life is calm; tears continueously drip. 

Abandoned me; you had hers and my trust. 

Hers meant more; glad you had time to inform, 

Not letting me know and leaving me torn. 

You on your side, me on mine, the cusp —

Grieving time wasted, never said, you hid.

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

——

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

I’ve learned much; I know where I stand amidst —

Games of the heart; I’m on my line, listen! 

Imagine telling me the truth — your lust–

Was your crime, you left me hurt, decaying.

But I’ve huge strength, I’ll find the path –my way. 

Forgetting how you treated me, threw crusts —

Of your time; set free –no longer your tryst

Happenings happening, eyes wide shut. 

——-

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Health, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Photo Challenge Prompt: Fiction – Wishing You’d Stayed


Thanks to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie for hosting this photo prompt.


Man Against Blue
Ronnie Garcia Moron

 It takes a great deal of pushing and a lot of poking to make me angry, but Yasmine knew which buttons to push. The neighbors never heard us fight, until that night in August.

“You always want to be together; I can’t be with you all the time. I’ve work and sometimes I need alone time, and occasionally, guy time.” I yelled.

Yasmine flicked back her long brown hair and laughed at my rage; she was far away inside her head again; I could tell.

“Look who’s upset,” she said softly. “It took me a long time to make you this angry, Logan. I thought you would never notice me. You’re always leaving me home alone.”

“Yasmine, I’m extremely upset at you, scared for your mental well being, and scared for our relationship. But you think my words are a joke.” I say.

She laughs and slids her arm around my shoulders. I shrug it off. Yasmine crosses her arms and says:”Calm down Logan. Stop being such an ass. Your married, you don’t get space anymore.”

“Being married doesn’t mean no space.You never used to be this way Yasmine. You did stuff with your friends and visited relatives. You also worked as a successful interior designer.” I told her.

“Now, you stay home all day and you lay in bed. I’m trying and I know you’re not well. But one of us has to work and support us financially. You need to look for ways to occupy your time. Read, write, watch TV, walk, or pretend you’re designing a new interior space.”

Yasmine gave a thin smile at my suggestions. “I suppose you want me to keep visiting the psychiatrist, the doctor who says I’m suffering from depression because I lost our baby.” Tears leaked out of Yasmine’s deep brown eyes. I wiped them away.

“I think it’s best for you Yasmine. The psychiatrist makes sense. You’re sad, tearful, and you can barely make it out of bed. You’re also anxious and you’ve terrible self-esteem right now. When I tell you you’re wonderful, talented, and beautiful, you don’t believe me. Yesterday, you said you believed you were a baby killer.” I said.

Yasmine smirked.”Before the baby died, I believed you. Now, I don’t believe you’re telling me the truth. I’m in awful shape and I think you’re placating me. I believe you’d rather by anywhere else and not with me.”

“Listen,” I told Yasmine. ” When I said I need space, all I meant was I need some time each week, where I can tye up loose ends from work. I also need a night away from you every week or two. For my own mental health, I need a few hours where I can forget and not deal with our issues.” 

“I talked to your friends Becca and Lynn,” I told her. “They said they’d love to take turns hanging out with you one night a week if you’re okay with that? You guys could go see a movie or go shopping, something along those lines?” 

Yasmine buried herself beneath the comforter on the couch.”I don’t want to see my friends, look at me? And I need you here Logan; I was thinking, we could have another baby?” 

“It’s not that I don’t want another baby with you sweet heart, ” I say carefully. “I keep telling you, it’s not your fault Jacob died. It happens to many woman with their first pregnancy. It’s just right now, you’re still recovering from losing Jacob.” I told Yasmine.

She covered her ears, “I don’t want to hear it Logan. Stop talking. It’s my fault Jacob died; I didn’t take care of myself. Now, I’m sick and I feel I can’t do anything. Everything makes me tired and I’m so mad at myself.”

I sat down beside Yasmine and rubbed her back.” Relax. We have time. Work on feeling better. Try to take a short walk, even around the block. Be in the sun on the patio to get more vitamin D and sleep whenever you need. However, you have to promise to take your pill.” I said.

“I don’t want to! I hate my med. It makes me feel foggy.” Yasmine complained.

“The doctor says in a month or so, when you’re used to the medication, the fogginess will go away. But you have to let your body get used to the anti-depressant. I notice when you take them, you’re much happier. You get out of bed. You make conversation. You sketch out designs for rooms,” I tell her.

“But Logan . . .”

“Please, for two-weeks, try taking your pill. If you don’t, the Doctor says you’ll have to go back in hospital, Yasmine, ” I begged.

Suddenly, Yasmine flew into a rage. She pushed at me and screamed. She grabbed her car keys before I could catch her and snuck in the elevator. When I reached her parking space, it was empty. I’ve never seen Yasmine again.


Yasmine’s my wife and it hurts me to know she could be anywhere and I can’t help her. I don’t know if she’s well or still suffering from depression. No one’s been able to find her, not even a private detective.

I grieved for Yasmine. It took me two-years before I started writing my stories down in journals. I thought, when Yasmine came back, she could read about what happened in my life after she left. I tried to make my journal entertaining for her to read.

Then, they found her body. Parts of me ached which I never knew existed, when I learned Yasmine was dead. I’m not sure how they can find out how she died now. But I’ve convinced myself I caused her to commit suicide.

I tear the pages out of my journals; I had had them bound and printed into volumes for Yasmine to read. Now I know she will never be able to read what I wrote. 

Broken and grieving, I destroyed all my journal volumes. All the typed pages scattered across the floor in my office. Broken journals, like my heart. 

How does one heal after hurting so long, believing their other half, couldn’t be dead? 


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Diamanté, Event, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Diamanté – “For Colleen, Five-Years Gone”


Diamente ———

Line 1: Noun or subject
Line 2: Two Adjectives describing the first noun/subject

Line 3: Three -ing words describing the first noun/subject

Line 4: Four words: two about the first noun/subject, two about the antonym/synonym

Line 5: Three -ing words about the antonym/synonym

Line 6: Two adjectives describing the antonym/synonym

Line 7: Antonym/synonym for the subject

——

Thanks to A Reading Writer, Rosema my talented friend, for information on how to write a Diamanté. And my apologies, these are supposed to have a diamond shape, but I have no patience for that! Also, the picture isn’t Colleen, I just thought this woman was beautiful, and so was Colleen.

——-

http://www.mv1.dromghd.com

——-
 Energetic Woman,

 Beautiful, Vibrant,

 Forming, Endearing, Unfolding,

Helpful, Engaging, Miserable, Depressed

Bursting, Sobbing, Disappearing,

 Sick, Anxious,

 Tired Woman.

——–

Beloved Child.

Fond, Enchanting,

Living, Travelling, Teaching,

Beautiful, Unique, Self- Hating, Forlorn.

Ending it, Choosing, Dying,

Exhausted, Haunted,

Lost Child.

——

Miserable Daughter,

Guilty, Confused,

Not Understanding, Not Knowing, Not Getting the Right Help,

Lost in Her Head, Stressed, Finding Peace, Forgiveness

Loving, Glowing, Comprehending in Heaven.

Serene, Tranquil,

Hope for Daughter.

——

Blessed Mother,

One daughter, best-friends,

Laughing, Talking, Sharing,

Happiness, Remembering, Sadness, Grieving.

Crying, Missing, Wishing,

Thinking, Hoping to See Her One Day, 

Lost Mother.

——

Talkative Father,

Advice Shared, Helpfully Wise,

Cherishing, Loving, Listening,

Memories, His Little Girl, Painfully, Mourned.

Grieving, Hurting, Reasoning,

Hope Filled, Praying,

Wondering Father.

——-
Discerning Grandma,

Wise, Experienced,

Thinking Back, Memorizing Moments, Praying.

Sturdy, Strong, Badily Hurt, Too Much Loss,

Tearing up, Remembering, Smiling,

Tough, Missing Granddaughter,

Heartbroken Grandma

——

Children’s Mentor,

Teacher, Beautiful, 

Concerning, Demonstrating, Advice Giving.

Stylish, Classy, Covering Sadness, An Image.

Struggling, Breaking, Supporting.

Tears, Regret,

Mentor in Death.

—–

Woman passed on,

Missed, Not Forgotten,

Remembering, Laughing, Crying.

Magnetic, generous, Beyond Life, Loved.

Wondering, Praying, Inspiring,

Living-on, Saved By Grace,

Woman of Memory.

——–

©Mandibelle. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Diamanté, Event, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Diamanté – “For Colleen, Five-Years Gone”


Diamente ———

Line 1: Noun or subject
Line 2: Two Adjectives describing the first noun/subject

Line 3: Three -ing words describing the first noun/subject

Line 4: Four words: two about the first noun/subject, two about the antonym/synonym

Line 5: Three -ing words about the antonym/synonym

Line 6: Two adjectives describing the antonym/synonym

Line 7: Antonym/synonym for the subject

——

Thanks to A Reading Writer, Rosema my talented friend, for information on how to write a Diamanté. And my apologies, these are supposed to have a diamond shape, but I have no patience for that! Also, the picture isn’t Colleen, I just thought this woman was beautiful, and so was Colleen.

——-

http://www.mv1.dromghd.com

——-
 Energetic woman,

 Beautiful, Vibrant,

 Forming, Viewing, Unfolding,

Helpful, Engaging, Miserable, Depressed

Bursting, Sobbing, Disappearing,

 Sick, Anxious,

 Tired woman.

——–

Beloved child,

Fond, loving,

Living, Travelling, Teaching,

Beautiful, unique, self-hating, forlorn.

Ending, choosing, dying,

Exhausted, haunted,

Lost Child.

——

Miserable daughter,

Guilty, Confused,

Not understanding, not knowing, not caring.

Lost in her head, Stressed, finding peace, forgiveness.

Loving, Glowing, Understanding, 

Serene, Tranquil,

Hope for daughter.

——

Blessed mother,

One daughter, best-friend,

Laughing, talking, sharing,

Happiness, Love, sadness, grieving

Crying, missing, wishing, 

Thinking, Hoping,

Lost mother.

——

Talking father,

Advice shared, helpfully,

Cherishing, Loving, Listening,

Memories, his little girl, painful, mourned.

Grieving, Hurting, Reasoning,

Hoping, praying,

Quiet father.

——-

Woman passed on,

Missed by all, not forgotten,

Remembering, laughing, crying,

Magnetic, generous, gone, loved.

Wondering, praying, inspiring,

Living-on, saved by Grace,

Woman of memory.

——–

©Mandibelle. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Flash fiction for Aspiring Writers: “Demonic Beauty”


Enclosed in the bar, eyes magnify; temptress in red, silk sliding on skin.

Sway in her hips, a tease of the senses. Men breathless consent, adoring sin.

Striding with ease, heels ruby with diamonds. Naked shoulders shimmer, anticipating.

Treading softly, fallen in red fire, elusive, and beguiling; illusion of flames sating.

Moving her hips, licking cherry red lips; coal glimmer in demonic eyes.

Sensations burning, engulfs her body; seething, writhing, building her disguise,

A vestige of power; she’s the tyger enticing, an allusion to Eden, of poisonus lies.

Decisive, sauntering closer, flicking hair, tar-black as the ash before Lent.

Peer into eyes, a glimmer of gold, metal men grieve for; silence, fire scent.

A vision, a curse, a whisper in vain — animating, the instrument on stage, 

Notes dance, music bleeding; breathing sweat, the melody of the enraged,

Fire rings, smoke engulfing; watch the woman despair, her voice entrances, beware–

Beauty enraged, a witch, incaged; performing she’s the beast, on stage no cares.

——-
 

http://www.pixebay.com
 

Thanks to Priceless Joy our wonderful host of FFfAW.

——

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.