November Notes: Poem -Day 9 – Blitz – “The Darkest World” #amwriting #poetry #novembernotes 


Today’s prompt song is “Cupid Carries A Gun” by Marilyn Manson.

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“Cupid Carries A Gun” – Marilyn Manson

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Credit: http://www.steamyrainingcards.wikia.com

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Witch drums pounding

Witch drums, I’ll escape your hell

Hell is the death in your eyes

Hell is the blankness in your stare

Stare at today, world has changed

Stare at today, yet we’re all here afraid

Afraid of your spiders

Afraid of your mangled crowns

Crowns are for glory

Crowns aren’t for the gory

Gory I predict your future will be

Gory I predict as your trigger finger pulls

Pulls into hate

Pulls us into helplessness

Helplessness, you say hold your hand 

Helplesssness, if I give in, I am damned 

Damned by your words

Damned by your voice

Voice of sultry sin

Voice of evil intent 

Intent of voice to charm 

Intent of voice to bring pain and shoot 

Shoot your arrow through the hope in me

Shoot your arrow through the hope in this world 

World you’ve with your private hell

World is not yet without hallejeuhs 

Hallejeuhs set me free

Hallejeuhs have more power

Power greater than the wretched Cupid you’ve become

Power greater than your hand scrunching tight my own 

My own prison in your grasp

My own hell is you, on earth

Earth which you blacken 

Earth which you pollute 

Pollute our minds with lies

Pollute our minds with lyrics

Lyrics sung, no love song, you’re no Cupid 

Lyrics screamed, you’re the pitch of dark

Dark of night without hope

Dark of night unfolds its wrath

Wrath so great, I hold my Halo

Wrath so great I stutter my prayers

Prayers so intent, my Halo is safe

Prayers so intent, your tar-black is smothered by light

Light washes away your petrude charade 

Light shines upon your malicious deeds

Deeds should be done to bring light, not frighten

Deeds should be done to bring light, not frighten 

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©Mandbelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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Sunday Photo Fiction: Part 2 – Nineteen-Years-Later #amwriting #flashfiction


Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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A Mixed Bag

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“What are you writing Uncle?” Chad asked Sam.”And why’re you using a calligraphy pen? Carry that in your back pocket?”

“Chad, you shouldn’t be joking.You’re going to give this letter to a trusted bicycle courier. My friend I’m writing can help us; he knows my writing. Pretend the courier outside the hotel side entrance is a buddy.” Sam instructed.

Chad grabbed the letter. “I have a lot of questions Uncle Sam, about my Dad and about why we’re in trouble.” 

Sam nodded. “Go meet the courier, then we’ll talk. I’ll sweep the room for bugs while you’re gone again. I don’t think they’re any, otherwise . . .” 

Chad gulped, quickly leaving the hotel room. He walked to the side entrance of the hotel expecting a guy his age on a bike. 

Instead, he found a trashed bicycle. There was no courier, only drops of blood.

Chad ran as fast he could back to his hotel room terrified. He thought he had taken the right turn, but when he turned around he saw he was at room 395 and not 305. 

“Are you lost hon?” A smiling hotel maid asked him.

“I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not. You are definitely not fine Chad.” A deep voice said.

Chad peered behind him to see his Uncle Sam standing there. Sam shot the maid through the head and collected a gun the maid had hidden in her uniform.

“You can’t trust anyone.” Uncle Sam told Chad harshly.

Chad followed his Uncle out of the hotel, clutching the calligraphy written letter in his hand. 

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Please see Part 1 here.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Cleave – Revenge and Too Much Wine. 


A Cleave Poem is in two halves; “one should be able to read the left column (what’s in regular font), right column (in bold font), and each line across as a combined thought giving you three distinct poems.”

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http://www.singlediary.com

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She took the life out of my eyes when she shot me in the head; it never occurred to me that there was any other way to end our situation.

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I could feel myself slipping away after an intense moment of suffering; staring at a point in space, I barely realized what I’d done. 

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I heard her come in the door, not making a sound; slipping in the house quietly, silently, a ghost of vengeance.

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I knew she would come someday, her husband was my lover; chapped berry lips trembling I thought of all the things life might have been.

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I couldn’t blame her for coming here enraged and drunk on wine; Cabernet from the grocery store, liquid courage to even the score.

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She was his wife for twenty-years, I was Sam’s girlfriend for five-years and he was divorcing her; not going to let Sam win, to have his perfect life and woman.

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The moment the shot rang out I knew death had come calling: I’d never shot a gun more than twice. The kick-back hurt and the bullet struck home. 

—–

Sam heard the shot from the bedroom and arrived to face death and enraged screaming; seeing Sam there, I shuddered not even realizing it when he lay dead; dead as I felt. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Cinquin – “No Regrets.”


A Cinquin is an unrhymed poem consisting of twenty-two syllables distributed as 2, 4, 6, 8, 2, in five lines. It was developed by the Imagist poet, Adelaide Crapsey.

For more information visit Shadow Poetry here.

 

http://www.superiorplatform.con
 
I thought,

Snow falling would,

Would cover the evidence.

But the cops are not stupid they–

Found him.

——

Gasping, 

I wonder when,

They will come to my door,

And take me away and finger print–

My hands.

—–

They’ll search,

In my dresser,

They’ll find something of his,

The gun he carried trying to–

Force me.

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I fought

I wouldn’t let–

Him hurt me, not my body.

He injured me with his body first.

I cried.

—–

Lurking,

I saw him here,

He wanted me again, 

So, I picked up his gun and I,

Shot him.

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They’ll lock,

Me away when, 

They identify him, 

No one knows how he hurt me first.

He’s dead.

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I’ll go,

To prison because he,

Was a monster and I,

Killed him when he tried again, I’ve

No regrets. 

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: A Sordid Affair


Apology: I’m sorry, this is way too long for Flashfiction but the story just developed and formed. I tried to cut it down and it’s still too long 😦

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I am sitting by a government building and admiring its interesting architectural elements. I am waiting for my contact to arrive. 

It’s fall and I can feel the nip in the air as winter approaches. It’s why I have chosen to wear my new coat. It’s long, hits me mid-calf, and is made of a silk-lined pink-wool with black buttons.  My makeup is flawless down to the lipstick that matches my coat and my hair is curled artfully. I’m anxious, but I need to appear in control. 

My contact ‘Winston’arrives. He is dressed impeccably in a tailored suit and expensive shoes. He could be any government businessman. Winston looks at me and  I can tell from his calm expressionless demeaner he knows about ‘intrigue’ well.

“Do you have it?” I ask him curtly “you’ve had plenty of time.” He looks at me sternly, “time is money” Winston says and I hand him a small bag filled with twenty-thousand dollars. 

I stare up at Winston and hold out my gloved hand. He places a small memory stick in the leather of my palm and passes me a hard copy in an envelope. “It’s pretty obvious” Winston murmers matter-of-factly, ” Senator Smith’s wife is cheating on him. She has been for seven years. Two years after he found out, he began his own affair.”

“And before?” I  question.

 “He was faithful for the five years they dated. Since the day he meant her, he never slept with another woman until five years ago. Before Ashley, um you…  he was miserable. He channeled his energy into his work and became a young Senator.” I shook Winston’s hand,”anytime, Ms. Taylor.”

I stare at the memory stick with the evidence of Linda’s affair. I knew about the affair of course. Jamie’s wife Linda was the one who first cheated. He had loved her deeply. She had wounded him and he hadn’t recovered until he meant me. But Jamie was still married to Linda. A piece of his heart hung onto her, even though she was always with Daniel (Jamie’s cousin) and hardly spoke to Jamie. 

Slowly, I walked away from the ornate government building, walked down the street past some trendy shops, and into a restaurant called Linguini, where I met Daniel, Linda’s boyfriend. 

“She gets a divorce or she disappears,” I tell Daniel. Daniel’s face turns pale when I present him with the envelope Winston gave me.”Why does she string Jamie along Daniel? You and I could both be free to be with who we love, if only Linda would sign the divorce papers.”

Daniel sighs, “she won’t sign the papers because she gets almost nothing. Just a million for twelve years of her life.”

“But she cheated first and she hates him now. Jamie didn’t start seeing me until two years after Linda first cheated. She had her chance.”

“It makes me angry too, Ashley. I have lots of money, but she gets hysterical when I ask her about signing the divorce papers.”

“If she doesn’t the media will know what a whore she was. How she ripped apart her marriage with the senator, cheating with you. If that’s not enough I’ll have her sent away. She’ll never see you again Daniel.”

A growl comes from Daniel, ” I’ll get her to sign the papers. I wish you would have came to me and we could have worked out a better situation for both our lives, Ashley. You didn’t have to play dirty.”

Daniel left the restaurant quickly and I sipped my Mascoto deep in thought. Jamie arrived soon after, his eyes sparkling at me  serenely.” I have missed you so much,” he tells me kissing me softly and then deeply as we get lost in each other. 

Jamie sits down beside me and puts his arm around me while we order food and drinks. “I have something to tell you,” I start talking nervously. I tell Jamie the whole story of me highering Winston to dig up proof of Linda’s indescretions. When I’m done talking a tear escapes my eye and Jamie wipes it away with his thumb. 

“Ash, I wish you’d told me sooner. We both would have felt better if I knew what you were doing.”

“Are you mad?” I manage.

“No, not mad at all. This proves to me what I know; you love me and are faithful to me. You’re also a smart and savvy woman. I told myself I’d never be fooled by a woman like Linda again. That’s why I sent her the divorce papers and that’s why she’ll go to trial and get the death penalty if she doesn’t sign the divorce papers.” I gasp. 

Jamie’s face has gone rigid and I can tell it is difficult for him to say the next words:”We did have a child once. A little girl named Amber. She was sweet and only two when Linda strangled her for crying loudly when they were home alone one night. Linda said the noise was driving her crazy. . .” I huddled into Jamie stunned. With a vacant look in his eyes Jamie whispers,”she was my wife. I kept her secret. I thought she was depressed. Then I found out she was cheating.” 

“That’s terrible Jamie. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this inside you all these years.” I whisper. 

He smiles at me, “two years later I met you and you made me feel whole again. I promised myself I would cut ties with Linda. She wants more money but I won’t give her a cent. She killed my innocent daughter, and I have all the evidence necessary to put her in jail on death row.”

The food arrived and Jamie and I ate hungrily keeping us from saying more about the situation. Although, I wanted Linda gone, apart of me wondered whether she had struggled with postpartum depression; maybe she was still dealing with a mental illness untreated. She did seem volatile.

One instant I was eating and the next I heard a commotion in the restaurant. Linda was standing at our table screaming at Jamie. Daniel was close behind her trying to calm her down. I guessed his discussion with her based on my threats hadn’t gone well. 

Linda threw the divorce papers on our table and shouted, “I want more money! If you don’t give me more, I’ll shoot the skank.” A handgun was pointed at my chest. Daniel and Jamie were carefully, attempting to settle Linda down and obtain the gun when Linda cracked and pulled the trigger. People screamed as the shot rang out. 

I felt a burning in my chest, then extreme pain. I saw the blood on my hands as I tried to stop the steady oozing with my thick wool coat. Everything was happening quickly. Then Linda held the gun to her own head and despite pleading from Daniel, and the sounds of horror others were making in the restaurant, the gun went off. I briefly thought about how many people at Linguini would be traumatized by this shooting;  not only Daniel, Jamie, and I. 

I shrieked, surprised I still had a voice. My head was cloudy and I ached in pain as Jamie was trying to stop the flow of blood on my chest and call 911. Daniel was a mess as he cried over Linda’s body. There was blood everywhere and I registered the noise and panic of the people around us from a distance. 

I slept fretfully for ages. I dreamt awful scenarios and I almost woke up before tumbling back into a nightmare. When I finally awake, I’m at a hospital and I can see out a window to the government building below. My memory is pricked but Jamie is asleep beside me, his head on the bed. I adjust my position on the bed as carefully as I can without hurting myself and waking Jamie. 

The funeral for Linda was weeks ago. Daniel was devastated, especially when Jamie told him about his past with Linda. He felt Daniel had a right to know the truth. 

I had been in the hospital a month in semi-consciousness. I almost died and Jamie had spent most of his time waiting for me, (while taking a leave of his senate responsibilities)to wake up and live the life we wanted together. “We’re free Jamie,” I tell him when I am allowed to leave the hospital. He grins and my pulse increases.

 “I thought I’d lost you Ashley. The doctors told me it was a long shot you’d recover. ” I held Jamie’s hand in solidarity. I was done with intrigue and blackmailing people, for now…

  
Thanks to Alistair Forbes for the prompt picture. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: A Tidy Yard


I’m playing in the leaves with my two nieces in their front yard. They have this enormous tree with leaves that turn to bright orange and yellow in the Fall. My brother-in-law Mike hates raking them up. But there is something to be said about keeping a tidy yard. Nothing can hide beneath leaves that are put in bags. 

 I was staying at my sisters for the foreseeable future. But I kept a different schedule then her family did and I often came home late at night.

One night I was a little tipsy and tripped over a pile of leaves. I got up and looked down to see a body half covered in leaves. A boot and leg in jeans was sticking out. The man’s chest was covered in blood, leaves clung to the wetness. I screamed and ran inside. I had myself convinced I was imagining things. 

I stumbled back into the house, tears in my eyes. Mike was in the kitchen eating a snack. “What’s wrong Carrie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“There’s a body, there’s…a man out in the yard under the leaves. He was starring at me and he was dead.” Mike grinned.

“Awe, Carrie you’ve just been drinking, you’re hallucinating. We’ll go check together and see if there’s a body out there. Will that make you feel better?” I nodded, wiping up the tears of panic leaking from my eyes with my hand.

Mike and I went out to observe the state of the leaves under the tree in the yard. The night was black and ominous all around me. I don’t know what I was expecting, but when we got outside, there was indeed a deadman there and next to him a woman. She had a hole point blank in her forehead, and her skin was waxy. 

I turned to Mike and we looked at each other. My heart was beating outside of my chest I was so anxious. Suddenly, Mike sneered and grabbed my shoulder, hiding us under the tree. 

“Carrie you’re too curious, now I’ll only have three bodies to dispose of.” My mouth gaped open. I was sweating, I was so scared. “Yes, you’re the third.” Mike said his eyes grey and distant. Then, he raised the gun to my head. I could only think of my nieces and playing with them under that same tree. Yes, there was something to be said about keeping a tidy yard. Especially when falling leaves were used to hide bodies. 

 
Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting! 

Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers – Our House


Theo and Vanessa are sitting in their car smoking a joint and looking at attached houses.

Boy, Theo I’d sure love to live in one of these places one day. They’re gorgeous! and imagine what the insides look like.

Yeah that’d be pretty cool. I like the light blue one. There’s a little white BMW parked in front of it that could be us. You know when we’re doctors or lawyers or whatever the hell we want to be.

 I like the blue one too. I think that’s our place.

Yeah we could have a kid or two there and make out nicely. 

Kids? What the . . .

Suddenly, the car doors are shoved open the joint is thrown out the window and gun is pointed at Theo’s head. Vanessa is in the back held by two burly men. “Drive, drive now!” the man with the gun pointed at Theo says. With tears in his eyes Theo starts the car and begins to drive. Who knows if it will ever be their house now.

Words: 174 words

Theo and Vanessa's house in Light Blue
Theo and Vanessa’s house in Light Blue