Day 3 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – Elegy/Couplets – “The Traveler Reaches Home” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is  poem type called an elegy – a poem that mourns or honors someone dead or something gone by. Center the elegy on an unusual fact about the person or thing being mourned. ” An elegy generally combines three stages of loss: first there is grief, then praise of the dead one, and finally consolation.” Please see Literary Devices for more information.

I’ve paired this prompt with The A to Z Challenge quote, having the author/quoter’s name begin with the letter C. 

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Credit: Danika and Peter via UnSplash

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“We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.” Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

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Here we gather, today it finally hit —

Me, you won’t be coming back; such grit

You displayed, at the crux, as death grew near.

There was no “going gently” for you dear.

I always admired that you were strong,

At the finish you groaned your last song.

The pain was so great, it hurt us to see,

A candle flame who flared, flickering free.

Death was not easy, nor was your young life.

But you always shouldered through the strife.

A kind, giving person — philanthropist,

With death, you became a minimalist.

Objects hold memories, the Stone’s song we know —

well: “You Can’t Take It With You When You Go.”

As we remember, we wonder why —

Three-years ago you left, disappeared wide —

Across the world, sending postcards to —

Us all, as you adventured across through —

Every country you could see with no —

Face Time, Skype; we were scared you wouldn’t come —

Back; but you knew how sick you had become.

That’s why you left, returned, with all of your —

Stories to share as you withered, poorly —

Weak and fragile, all your living used up.

No matter we were so afraid it’s just

We didn’t understand your reasons ’til —

You said, “I’m dying fast, I have no more will —

to live, my time is drawing near, I see —

God’s blessed glory shining, in front of me.”

We forgive you for leaving twice; we know —

Your Heavenly home, will now shelter you.

It’s hard how it ended, but we’ll see you —

Soon — in the peace, Heaven granted for you.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.


Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – ” Bye Bye American Pie” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.


Credit: Sunayana MoiPensieve


 

He sings the song, he knows so well, “American Pie” resounds,

A story “a long long time ago” the lyrics found,

On the lips of those passing by,

Throwing coins for memories sighed,

Thinking of “the day the music —

Died,” a plane crash in history mused.

Brought into the present, the “music [that] makes [him] smile.”

Singing talent innate: “Bye, Bye Miss American pie.”

———

He sings of the “good old boys . . . drinking whiskey and rye,”

Of the day they thought “this would be the day that” they’d up and die,
He breathes life into Rock and Roll,

Thinks music can save “mortal” souls.

His sonorous voice knows he has —

No luck; but he’ll sing for the past.

For “Miss American pie;” she drives her “Chevy” to the dry —

Levy;” all passing, know the lyrics “the day the music died.”

——

He’s a hit, his voice similar to Don McLean of past,

He drives home the point as if it were shards of sharp glass.

As history occurred, passed,

“Dirges in the dark” that collapse.

Of forgotten heroes, music lost,

Of times forgotten, with cost.

Singing for the “kings” and “queens” who walk on by, listening,

He sings the song he knows so well “Bye Bye . . . American pie.”


Don McLean – “American Pie” 


Wrapped Refrain (Form No. 2), created by Jan Turner, carries some similar aspects as her Wrapped Refrain form, with further advanced techniques. It consists of 2 or more stanzas of 8 lines each, with the following set rules:

Meter: 14, 14, 8, 8, 8, 8, 14, 14
Rhyme Scheme: a,a,b,b,c,c,d,d

Refrain rule: In each stanza, the first 10 syllables in the first line (incorporating a phrase) must be the last 10 syllables at the end of the last line (line #8).

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Collage Photo Prompt: Poem – Inverted Refrain – “Let Her Be Pretty” #amwriting #poetry 


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

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie
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Sunlight dies on the western skies, 

Skyscape of red ignites horizon. 

Hid indoors she inhales, won’t cry;

Phoning him still, though her heart’s torn. 

        He’ll never believe a word cried,

        Poisonous woman; he’s forlorn.

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Night brings blackness; fades the red, 

Setting sun was a sinful fire.

Flaws thrown in her face so she dreads —

Him; so embarrassed she’ll expire. 

         She’ll never believe his word again. 

         Venomous man conspiring. 

——

Out of anyone she should know, 

He’s not trying to hurt her, but —

He couldn’t stay quite, told her so. 

The fight ended; he’s caught and stuck. 

            No good faith, lost love, she runs, goes; 

           Days pass, he knows he lost her trust. 

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She wonders, “What’s high-maintenance?” 

Doesn’t he want her to look pretty? 

Tries to change her, their relationship, 

No hair-stuff, cream; bet he’ll regret. 

        Let her be; care and maintain, 

        Lipstick her therapy; don’t spit. 

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What of self-esteem; for at work? 

He doesn’t get, looking fine is work. 

She needs to keep up, she’d prefer —

He wouldn’t judge her, for her quirks. 

       More than makeup, clothes; she’s hurt, 

       Does he love her? Off he flirts. 

——

He didn’t think such a little thing, 

Could grow so big she’d leave him first.

Taking the dog, breaking some things, 

Remote broke; busted flat screen, irks

        Awake all night sunrises’ bring, 

        Some hope, she’ll return; for he learned —

——

Never to judge a woman by her looks, 

Let her get ready for too long. 

Let her spend cash, don’t brook, 

On small things that make her feel strong 

         She’ll come home; she’ll smile, haircut book, 

          He who is wise benefits long.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
         

Finish Off Friday’s Flash Fiction: Speechless


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Finish Off Friday Flash Fictions prompts:


finish-off-plant
Credit: Lorraine

women-in-red-dress-and-umbrella
Credit: http://www.paper4pc.com – Woman Dress Artwork Image #1

When Mark and Pat renovated their [home,] they discovered an old bicycle hidden under the [back deck]. 

“I wonder how long it’s been down here?” Mark said removing the bike from the remains of the deck. He washed off the grime, finding a cheery red bicycle beneath.

He was sure the bicycle would ride well once he oiled the chain and made a few repairs. He had spare bicycle parts somewhere in his garage.

When he tipped the bike over he found a small pouch hidden under the bike seat. Opening the bag, Mark removed a picture of a brilliant red head.

“Come see Pat,” Mark called to his wife. Pat came running, although, her husband was annoying her.

” It’s a photograph of modern art, Mark.The colours are vivid and the style of the woman’s dress is recent. Where did you find it?”

“In this pouch, underneath the bicycle seat. How can that be?”

Instantly, the clean red bicycle began to glimmer. A portal opened up and the bicycle disappeared into the vortex, the photograph soon to follow.

Mark and Pat were speechless.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: A Wild Horse #flashfiction #fiction #amwriting


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Ian Kelly

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Shadow the horse was spirited and wild; the same could be said of her mistress Evelyn. Although Evelyn’s parents tried to tie her down to a man of prosperity and ‘good breeding‘ at twenty-one, she had refused their efforts. More than a decade later she was a renowned Dermotologist and still fiercely independent. 

Evelyn had expected to be alone with her thoughts riding Shadow in the morning. Then, Ryder had appeared on his chestnut horse. He was the neighbour’s son who had left home at twenty-two to become a successful artist. He was as attractive as ever. 

He cut Evelyn off with his horse, so she was forced to ride Shadow in the ocean surf. Ryder tipped his riding hat to her, his brown-eyes glimmering at Evelyn with challenge. 

She had never been a woman to back down, so she raced Ryder back to the stables on his property and won. Ryder had grinned at her with charm and Evelyn for once, allowed herself to be affected. She remained with Ryder long into the following day. 

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“Back In The Saddle” – Matraca Berg

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Poem – Day 22 – Ninefold – “Free Fallin’ Long Gone” #amwriting #poetry #novembernotes #writing 


Today’s song prompt is “Free Fallin’ ” sung by John Meyer. I adore the original classic by Tommy Petty so that’s the video I’m going to post! 

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“Free Fallin'” – Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers 

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Good girls, so gorgeous don’t know beware; 

Long brunette locks, emerald eyes flutter.

Curves and hips swaying, breasts thrust up high. 

He feels the wind through his hair, smells the pine, 

Their bitter perfumes oversprayed gone. 

Road trip –he’ll never return to her. 

Good girls crush his spirit, expecting —
He’ll remain; he’s long gone, free fallin’

Never hold him down, his soul must soar. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 


Poem: Shadorma – “Sleep When You’re Dead” 


Thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt word Saga.

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Norse Sagas (www.medevilists.net)

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A saga

Harrowing epic,

Adventure, 

Legends live, 

Norse stories of old reborn, 

Each night by firelight. 

——–

But times change, 

Now it’s a detailed —

Story with depth, 

Assortment, 

Words you wish a person kept;

Instead they went on.

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A saga

I wish you would say, 

What you need —

To say in–

Fewer words.

Time is wasting away friend;

I love to listen —

———

But you’ve breadth, 

I need brevity.

I care what — 

You say to —

Me; but I space out when you, 

Can’t cut your tale —

———–

Down from the —

Length of an epic.

Hook me or —

Don’t; now my —

Mind wanders and I want to —

Be a good friend too.

——–

I haven’t —

Ages to sit by a fire;

As our kin–

Folk eons —

Ago; there is work to be —

Done; I’m responsible.

—–

Love your tales, 

Adventures lived large.

But I have–

My own fights. 

My own epic sagas to —

Live through and survive.

—–

So you’ll please, 

Excuse me when I drift, 

Full of thought.

For your tales, 

Remind me, all I must do;

One can never rest.

——

Was it the

Vikings who said, 

“You can sleep–

When you’re dead.” 

A realistic saying, 

I’ve found it too true.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Story Continuation Prompt: Nonfiction – Mother Going Out


Thank you to Wandering Soul for hosting the Story Continuation Prompt Challenge. This week’s theme is Mother.


 

Coat - Mother and Child
http://www.gettyimages.ca

 

My Mother walked out of her room in heels. She was wearing her soft teal wool coat she only wore when she was dressed up to go out with my Dad. Behind her the scent of floral and baby powder drifted. I knew her perfume came from a glass pearlized owl which sat on her dresser.

The owl’s sculpted feather could be felt when I held him, but it was his glittering crystal eyes that fascinated me the most. They hinted at the mystery of being grown-up and of an elegance my Mother carried herself with.

Before she went out, my mother reached down to hug me and I was engulfed by her perfumey scent. Her soft long teal coat would brush my face. My Mom’s  teal coat was a piece of clothing she only wore on a date or special occasion. Her small curvy figure was hugged by this tailored jacket. It gave my Mom, a woman who dressed in leggings, t-shirt, and sweatpants at home, a classic and graceful quality.

My favourite aspect of this coat was the ruffle that went down the front edge of the coat flaring and fluttering out. The ruffle was pretty. Something splendid and beautiful to a little girl. The ruffle made this coat a fashion statement. It was a coat Barbie would have gracefully worn if Barbie was a petite 5’2″ woman. The belt of the coat synched my mother’s small waist in and the bottom of the coat floated around her.

I dreamed I would inherit the coat one day as a small girl. But my mom donated the coat to Goodwill in the early 2000’s. They style, however, came back ‘ in’ again soon after. Mom wouldn’t have fit the coat anymore at the time, but probably would now as she  lost weight a few years back. I know the coat would look as stunning on her now as it did back in the early 1990’s.

Mom’s teal coat was a piece of beauty. Together with the scent of flowers and baby powder, it cast my mother in this ethereal light where she appeared as if she were an angel. She would leave for the night and the babysitter would arrive, some student from my Dad’s High School where he taught, and I would feel utterly bereft without my Mom.

She was an angel dressed-up, somehow, not my usual Mother. She wasn’t the woman who yelled at me to pick up my toys, but a figure of elegance which illuminated the glow of a woman in her prime. A young woman who for one night left her children at home and was able to be a girl, to be free.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Poem: Rondeau – “Rise Above it All.”


A Rondeau is a French form, 15 lines long, consisting of three stanzas: a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet with a rhyme scheme as follows: aabba aabR aabbaR. Lines 9 and 15 are short – a refrain (R) consisting of a phrase taken from line one. The other lines are longer (but all of the same metrical length).

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.
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quotesgram.com
 
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1 Aspire to rise above it all; dream,

2 Only the rise and fall of breath seem,

3 Real, vital, required, live a song,

4 Perhaps, we can do more than long,

5 Believe, sip, drink shifting sun beams.

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6 Shadows hover, light inside gleams.

7 More of your tight hugs, I can dream.

8 Shifting darkness, your lies wrong.

9 Rise above it all.

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10 Crossing rapids in waters, I glean.

11 Useful thrilling of sights unseen.

12 I can wish, time apart not long,

13 Time enough to echo what is wrong,

14 Time, brings together, a seem.

15  Rise above it all.
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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: Through a Skeleton’s Eyes. 


Surprise! I’m the skeleton in the classroom where you have Anatomy. An interesting aspect: the top half of my skull isn’t mine, it’s fake. 

Once I was a pretty girl of nineteen named Iris. I ran up to the dorm to watch movies with a bunch of the guys from the hockey team. My guy was the goalie. Travis made everyone laugh. But I stopped laughing when I went to see him in his dorm room when he was sick.

I opened his door and there was this fake and bake cheerleader on top of Travis moaning. I shrieked and I dragged the naked cheerleader by her hair to the door.

Suddenly, the cheerleader became free and hit me hard on my head with Travis’ favourite hockey stick. I could hear my head crack, distantly. The cheerleader hit me again viciously. I remember Travis crying but doing nothing to stop her.

So, Yes. This was my skeleton, but I’m not tied to it. Only, my spirit  hangs about here. I’m stuck on campus where they covered up my murder. The cheerleader slut and Travis went free. They didn’t live long. 

 

http://www.pixebay.com
 
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting. Feel free to participate by checking out the above link.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.