Day 24 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Art of a Story and Death” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #100WordWednesday #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting last week’s #100WordWednesday flashfiction prompt. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by a work of art.” The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Prompt begins with the letter U. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl – Her Photograph and work of art for the prompt 🙂

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To write is to forget. Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life. Music soothes, the visual arts exhilarates, the performing arts (such as acting and dance) entertain. Literature, however, retreats from life by turning in into slumber. The other arts make no such retreat— some because they use visible and hence vital formulas, others because they live from human life itself. 

― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet”

(Sorry finding a Q name for this piece impossible but there is Q in Disquiet!)

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The photograph is lovely at first, 

A brilliant blue sky, soft winds of cool breezes, 

The Atlantic still icy, but forgiving. 

Trees rise and guard the home, the lighthouse, 

Ancient ones in slumber as spring yet approaches. 

Rock walls prevent a fall below, to the unforgiving chill. 

Hypothermia comes quickly here, 

But the scenery makes up for the inherent danger. 

Bright pink of the house stands out and the tower above matches, 

Glows in the night when the boats pass by, 

Protecting and guiding ships. 

The long grass still waiting to be verdent, 

Not dry crumpled straw. 

And the owners of the house are silent, keeping to themselves, 

Their only sense of existing, is the light that glares, when outside the tower is dark. 

Spring is slowly birthing, but the ocean’s still freezing, 

And the danger is too real for ships too close.  

And a stranger walking watches from the dim, 

Holding back a dog barking in madness. 

The bulb has burnt out, now disaster is unhinged, 

The ship clips the cliff, the house crumbles and the ship sinks, 

Screams in the night, in the Atlantic’ waters cold numbness. 

And when all is said and done, only the lighthouse stands, 

With a burnt out bulb of fault. 

How can this photograph be a work of art? 

Is there art in dying? 

Or is art and death as a perception, to ambigious to be real? 

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©Mandibelle16. 2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Poem: Free Verse – “Windows, or Opportunities”


Thanks to The Daily Post for the word prompt window.

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http://www.pinterest.com
 

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Windows, or opportunities?

Soft winds blowing in, kiss your cheeks,

Tangle through your hair, airy fingers.

Wind chimes jingling, every slight gust.

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Windows, or opportunities?

Walking a certain path, changing direction.

At a crossroads, which trail to take?

Each road leads to whimsy, grace, ideas.

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Windows, or opportunities?

She saw a warm soul beneath his icey cold,

They nurtured the tiny flame as it grew,

There were fireworks and heat to enliven them both.

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Windows, or opportunities? 

It wasn’t her dream, not the one she pictured.

But life moves, people change.

Dreams, our desires, can change in an instant.

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Windows, or opportunities?

He cheated on her, too many times to count.

She tells herself, ” I stay for the kids.”

The greatest gift she gave, taking them all away.

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Windows, or opportunities?

A window is a second chance,

When a door shuts before you, look to the side,

A window awaits, but you have to decide to climb out.

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Windows, or opportunities?

One in the same, you’re climbing down to the unknown.

Leaving locked doors on your way.

Outside is a ethereal magnificent place

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Opportunity and new beginnings await.

Don’t forget to look for the windows in life. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: One Thing at a Time


When you see a tire lying emeshed in ice and snow by a frothing icey river, you don’t think much about what you’re seeing. What would a random tire say if it could talk?  Would it tell you the story of the SVU it was apart of? There were two young children in the vehicle.

How fast was their mother driving on the slick roads? Sally wasn’t paying attention and was texting and talking on her phone while driving. She was too busy having a conversation with her friend about a playdate.  Sally was too busy texting her husband to pick-up milk on the way home. Tom and Isla were playing; they were giggling and laughing in the back seat and were hushed by Sally.

Then the SUV started to hydroplane and Sally tried to break, but the vehicle was spinning and slipping down the side of the road and she couldn’t hault the SUV against the slush and snow. She couldn’t stop it from driving into the river.

Sally remembers the screaming of her children. She doesn’t know how she got out of the SUV, only that she had been crying out for Tommy and Isla from the moment she was dragged from the river. Sally keeps asking for her children. She wants to go back to the river to look for them.

Finally she sees them, white faced with  blue lips, eyes closed, and peacefully frozen; they are sculptures. She waits for their tiny chests to rise, to breathe. Even adults who are experienced swimmers can’t survive in raging winter rivers. But Sally waits, tears frozen to her face.


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting!

Go Eskimos Go! Bring the Greycup to Edmonton!

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Weekend Realizations


It’s 7 pm and I am sitting on the couch in my snazzy 3 ” leather knee high boots waiting for A to come pick me up for the weekend. The boots smell like wonderful buttery leather and I think with leggings and the tank top I’ve got on they will look wonderful at Hudson’s tonight.

But A has other ideas. We decide to go to WEM instead, our giant mall here in Edmonton, and A would like to do a little shopping for a coat. I agree to go along to spend time with A and because I require a couple of items at Sephora. When I don’t require items at Sephora who knows but I did actually really need the face wash. But these damn boots. Walking around WEM at a decent pace in 3″ heels is not my idea of fun. Now, I decide, I need flat good looking boots because who knew I couldn’t walk in my brand new boots. They actually are only for dress.

A doesn’t find his coat and even though I only look a bit I am fast waring out between my 10 pound purse and boots. Luckily, A is not a guy who is embarrassed to be carrying my purse. But my feet feel like they are teetering in my boots. I just need to build the right muscles up. But the next day I fall over beside A’s car, nearly underneath it between the boots and the ice. “They look sexy,” A tells me and they do look good. I just wish they felt good. These were expensive boots, shouldn’t there be more support on the bottom of my foot.

Somehow, I make it home and get back to A’s carrying my over night bag and 10 pound purse. The boots come off, nighty goes on. We’re vegging on the couch until 1 am when A suggests a snack. He has left overs from cooking class and he has the beef stew and shares some vegetables with me who has the roast beef. So good! And it hits 2 am. A has left briefly to pick up some friends at the bar. I decide to go to bed but find it is hard to sleep this late or early depending on your view, and I don’t sleep well. A does ,however, and we are both up by noon for breakfast which he cooks: eggs easy over, this tortilla looking thing that rises that I eat with cream cheese, green tea, and to top it all off, a chocolate croissant. Not the most healthy breakfast but so good just the same.

A has been super this weekend and he even drives me home taking me to the pharmacy first by my house. Those boots almost land me under the car then, thanks to the ice and I carefully teeter on them getting my stuff out of his car and survive getting to my house to take the now deemed special occasion non-walking boots off. I fall into bed at 4 pm and sleep until 8 pm. I get up have a shower and go to sleep again until 10:30 am the next day. My bed is just more snugly. Time to buy A a duvet and I think I have a brown cover that is in good condition or I’ll find him a cover that’s more manly. But at least we can do cozy at his place I think.

Today I somehow think Valentine’s Day is this weekend. Then I remember 50 Shades isn’t out until the next weekend so it can’t be Valentine’s Day. But I got A my present some yummy Valentine’s Day hedgehogs at Purdy’s and a pair of big lips in chocolate, kisses! But I order them online and send them to his apartment because as I discovered at Christmas for less than I can get to the mall I can order from Purdy’s with standard shipping and viola besides a card, Valentine’s done early.

Well gotta sleep getting my hair done tomorrow at some place called Fluid. I am excited to go there I have never been. It’s near Whyte Ave. Oh, and wearing my mini boots with the small heel. Thee boots can stay at home.