#OctPoWriMo Day 15/Photo Challenge/Saturday Mix: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Higher Ground” #amwritingpoetry #SaturdayMix #PhotoChallenge


For OctPoWriMo Day 15 the Prompt is based around Umbrellas. Also, I’m combining with NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Photo Challenge and Sarah from MindLoveMisery’s Saturday Mix based on Opposing Forces and the opposite word-pairs: harvest and plant, and lower and raise.


Credit: Kayla Erin.


I meant to use an umbrella — I failed,

The rain kept pouring, I couldn’t escape.

Thought this flood a dream raised; it was too late,

To escape the rising waters’ cold, and hail.

Our harvest, sea enveloped; I was pail.

Adrift in the Atlantic, no sails;

Waves engulfed all we planted, none were safe.

I bawled, darkness swallowed our home place.

I prayed, I shouted; the whole of me railed.

No umbrella could save a girl from disaster.

I swam swift as I quivered, believed —

In myself, hoped I still had a chance.

To survive despite wretched nature’s dance.

Then, on higher ground, flooding lowered, I —

Grabbed a steeple, a cross; prayed my thanks, sighed.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Music Prompt #6: Poem – Free Verse – “Not My Defeat” #amwriting #musiccprompt #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Friday Music Prompt. This week’s song is “The Cave” by Mumford & Sons. 

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Credit: Rosemary Valadon

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“The Cave” – Mumford & Sons

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Your broken walk, your deceptive talk, 

You meat-eater, man-eater,

Frigid walls of your heart echo without beat. 

Cowardly harlot of bitter teeth,

Take all your bites, 

Leave the bones picked clean.

Starving the peasants,

In your shallow retreat. 

Malice, miscalculations, 

Your sins they visit your neighbours. 

The harvest is barren,

No fruit bursts eaten. 

Devouring the land,

You think no one knows,

But I know your shame is complete. 

And for some odd reason,

I pity the weak.

I pity your barren soul attacking, 

Then, retreating.

I’ll not be the swimmer,

Drowned by your weighted pulls, 

Clawing acrylic fingers. 

——-

So I will hold on to hope, 

No noose will scrap your delicate throat. 

I’ll find strength in pain, 

I will change my ways. 

My name will be no whisper,

You will not be my defeat. 

——-

My faults, my fears,

Pummeling my face.

But I am numb, 

I weather the war. 

The suffering you’ve caused, 

Tears droplets from heaven. 

You are not forgiven,

You cannot make me deaf, 

I see all your faults and all your fears,

You cannot mask wretchedness, 

Not change until it’s admitted. 

——-

So I will hold on hope, 

No noose will scrape your delicate throat.

I’ll find strength in pain,

I will change my ways.

My name will be no whisper,

You will not be my defeat. 

——

I’ll invade the darkest cave,

Find your hiding place. 

There’s no safety in your chambers, 

Come out walking on your hands.

Do you comprehend,

The nature of dependence

When you see the Creator’s plans

The makers hands? 

So much mightier than your, 

Waifish fingers wringing. 

Crawl and then arise,

I’ll ignore your Siren’s call,

Your voice a hollow sound,

Wounds my ears. 

Aches my heart, 

Heart of diamond rock.

Freedom’s a melody that calls to me,

A treble cliff in the sky, 

Floating music notes that speak of remorse. 

Your siren’s lure,

Has been escaped. 

The magician knows, 

Reality’s illusions. 

——

So I will hold on hope,

No noose will scrape your delicate throat.

I’ll find strength in pain,

I will change my ways. 

My name will be no whisper,

You will not be my defeat.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 22 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /FFftAW: Poem – Rondel – “Wheat Fields” #poetry #flashfiction #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem called a Georgic focused on taking care of the earth and agriculture and initially written by Virgil. For the A to Z Challenge the GoodRead’s writer’s quote will begin with the letter S. Also I’m using this poem for Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy

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Credit: Yinglan Z

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“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

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In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

The threshing machine worked, farmer in his seat, 

Radio loud as wheat full grown ceases —

No longer for a glorious view reached. 

Becomes the meals of many now to eat. 

In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

An old wagon rotting by the house leased. 

Visions of yesterday, horses released. 

No burden for harvest to pull and meet. 

Times have changed, technology entreats. 

In fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

——-


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Finish Off Fridays Flash Fiction: Small Miracles #flashfiction #amwriting #fiction 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this prompt:

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MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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“Overnight, giant snowballs of hay appeared in the field.” Ed was absolutely shocked. There had been little snow last winter and summer and fall had been abnormally dry. 

Martha’s blue eyes were huge when Ed came into the house. “Eddy what’s wrong? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an expression on your face. Did something happen?” 

Ed gazed at his young wife, noticing how pretty she was. He hadn’t told her so in many months.”You’re a beautiful woman Martha. I knew I was lucky when I married you. You are my miracle.”

“Eddy, what’s come over you?” Martha said pleased. 

“Hay, giant snowballs of hay all over the barren fields. More than enough to feed the animals so we don’t have to remortgage the farm.” 

Martha peeked out the door and gasped at the sight of hundreds of hay bails in every direction. Then, as of life couldn’t get any better, it began to rain. It rained every second day for two-months. Then as December approached, the rain became snow and it snowed until April. 

Everyone else in the area, including in the nearby city, were appalled by the weather and constant precipitation. But all the farmers who had mysterious bails of hay in their fields celebrated because next harvest there would be plentiful crops. 

Ed attributed these continued miracles to Martha; she was his first miracle. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Three Line Tales: The Farmer and His Thoughts. #3LineTales #amwriting #thoughts


Thanks to Soya of 100 Words Or Less for hosting 3 Line Tales.

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Emiel Molenaar

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1.A  tired day dawns; I rose early so I could start mowing the fields, making hay before the sun shines; the morning air is crisp and there is a slight breeze wafting from the house, apple pie; how can I smell such a scrumptious flavour out in the fields?

2. In late morning, my stomach hungers for pie and for more food, something filling and some coffee; I find myself lost in my head, tired and eyes drooping from waking up at 4:00 am; there are still more fields to mow; shading my eyes, I observe the sky, such a clear brilliant blue; the beautiful sky illuminated by bright sunlight shock me, and I feel awake again.

3. It’s near the end of the day and my body is weary from mowing and all my other chores on the farm; I plan and ensure next year their is a bountiful harvest and more cows for milk and beef; yet I sigh, I dream a career change in my future ; but what does a lifetime farmer do? A man who didn’t graduate high school, how does he start a new? 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101: Day 12 – Being Thankful and Shopping Sales.


Prompt: Critique something.   
I know that Black Friday is coming. Last year I avoided it, most of my Christmas shopping was done by that point. But from online shopping emails,  I noticed how great the deals were from both Canadian and American stores. I remember going to Banana Republic Canada’s website and seeing all clothes were 50% off. That hardly ever happens at Banana Republic! The best price you can get is 40 % off and that’s not often. In fact, it was odd to me that Canadian websites and stores were giving deals that were so good on Black Friday and they were better then the Canadian equivalent, Boxing Day deals. I like to shop, that’s not a lie. But I also have this part of conscience that is telling me that whether we are shopping crazily on Black Friday Week or Boxing Week, we are missing the point of the holidays these shopping marathons are based around.

The largest difference between Canadian and US Thanksgiving is when we hold our festivities. Canadians celebrate the second Monday in October and Americans the third weekend in November. But I know for both nations, it is a time for us to be thankful for all God has provided us with in our lives. For the plenty we have in our wants and needs. We remember so many do not have ‘plenty’ in other places in the world. We give thanks to be alive and for the relative peace we find living in our countries, especially when places so close to our hearts such as Paris, are attacked by terrorists. We eat large meals and see our family, whom we may not see all year. But to be specific, Wikipedia tells me, the first thanksgiving was celebrated in the US after the pilgrims first harvest in the New World in 1621. The feast lasted three days and in attendance were fifty three pilgrims and ninety Native Americans. In Canada, we simply celebrate the harvest and other blessings of the past year during our Thanksgiving celebration. But I wonder how such a time of thankfulness has become a shopping race, to find the best deals. To think of all we ‘want,’ instead of all we have. 

Every Black Friday or Cyber Monday we see Americans literally fighting over electronics and grabbing items from each other as if they were toddlers. People are pushy, loud, and not nice to each other. They think that if they act how they act, they’ll get all the items they want. It is all about “me” and “I” or “my family.” I have to say it is worse on Black Friday in the US, worse then it ever gets in Canada even though Black Friday is gaining force here. But I’m not sure deals will be as great this year with the fall of the Canadian dollar from near parity.

 What ever happened to being a decent person, sharing, and being thankful for what you have? You may get a great deal but at what immoral price? What are you teaching the younger generations when you gorge on food, say that everyone should be thankful, then push and shove in Victoria Secret over a bra, of which you have ten or more? Or, was it worth it to battle through bodies and buy a TV at a hundred dollars saving?

I know some of you Black Friday shoppers are kind. And that every person just wants nice things for their families or theirselves at a good price. Maybe you can only afford certain items on sale, so these shopping days are important. Things are pretty tame in Canada but there is always the exception. And it’s just my point of view, but I wonder how being thankful and all this merchandising, advertising, and worked up shoppers fit together.

 In Canada, we celebrate Boxing Day after Christmas. It’s origins lie in people boxing up their leftover food from Christmas meals for the poor. But instead, we shop with our gift cards and Christmas money for more of what we have, for stuff, instead of celebrating family and Jesus’ birth; instead of celebrating people being together. I just find it a bit difficult, putting Christmas and shopping hauls together. I still shop and I still celebrate with my family. But I try to remember that when I’m out buying merchandise there is a way to treat other shoppers with respect, not like they’re the competition. I remember that buying stuff is fun but only temporary. “You can’t take it with you when you go,” as the saying goes.Whether you can buy a lot of things or hardly afford any, in death we leave all our junk behind.  We need to remember that there  are people who can’t afford are grand celebrations at Thanksgivings and Christmas. We need to give money and our time to those in need. To give presents to kids whose parents can’t afford, or food to the family who can only go to the food bank.

 I think if we were more thankful we could see how it is for some people to have so little, while we have a lot. For some people a tiny gift or a helping hand is worth so much. Little things like God, family, good friends, and health should matter the most. Without them all the ‘things’ in the world are worthless. So, be happy if that is what you have and if your basic needs are met. Happy Thanksgiving Americans and start of the holiday season for many of us. May you be thankful and gentle when you shop and generous with your time and donations to those less fortunate. May you cherish the life you have because you’re a priceless person to many people you know and loved very much. 

  

Writing 201 – prose/internal rhyme – Oranges and Napes


You love the smell of oranges. That sweet tangy delicious citrus flavour; it’s something to savour. You peel off an oranges thick pebbled skin and reveal the oval shaped raw fruit within; oranges remind you of summer scrapped  from spring’s cold paw. Summer is a season with no reason if you can believe. Sometimes it just rains and it’s a pain but the farmer’s need it for harvest. There are a variety of skins that fruit and vegetables hide in. Squash is orange with blemishes; and egg plant purple and posh;peaches have a fuzzy skin. You love eating peaches it’s such a sin. Or maybe it’s baking them into a crisp; there’s also cherries — black, dark red — swallowing their pits is a risk; and baby carrots that are nubby, you need to wash them with a little scrubbing. 

There are all kinds of skin, but the most delicate skin is human. Think of baby thighs and tummies – the most precious skin of all. Or the skin at the nape of your neck; that spot is hot, with a thousand sensory spots which a man can follow playing connect the dot and make a shape. But then you are reminded, you are in the kitchen peeling off orange skin while his lips graze your neck ending with a feeling filled peck. You’re at a loss  as you eat your orange slices thinking of vices and lips at your nape when he leaned over you whispering words you never suspected.