Three Line Tales: “Small Steps” #amwritingfiction #flashfiction


Thanks to Sonya for hosting #3LineTales.


Credit: https://unsplash.com/photos/e5eDHbmHprg


His foot padded on terra firma and his heart squeezed; lunar dust floated in the vacuum of space. Inside the space suit he sweated bouncing, taking careful but ‘small’ steps for ‘mankind;’ he was a history-maker, a hero. Still, part of him wondered if the effort had been worth it as the specs of lunar dust in his gloves floated; he contemplated whether he was nearer to his maker here or on the cerulean orb below.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

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Photo Challenge: Fiction — “Sea Dragon” #amwritingfiction #flashfiction


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge.


Credit: sound-dream tumblr.


The freeway lights gleamed in the darkness, blending with celestial blurs of stars. Giselle drove home, bit by bit across the bridge. The air was tinged with sea salt, while impatient drivers honked their horns. Giselle was amazed that each night people never tired of the cacophony. A ship horn blew across the sky and she edged her car forward.

Then, a harrowed screech from the bridge had her and other drivers screaming. In another second, the bridge swayed and cars slid towards each other. Giselle bit her lip as a roar thundered and the bridge swayed.

A massive yellow eye blinked, and the ancients lizard’s tongue flicked against reptilian lips. Giselle lay her hand against her beating heart; it was only the local sea dragon. He’d swum under the bridge and his ridged form had scraped the bottom. Giselle stepped out of the car as did many others, to watch the monster swim on into the sea amidst the starry light.

She noted others stepped out of their scraped and battered cars. It wasn’t uncommon for the dragon to hit the bridge, it was built to handle his force. No one had more than minor injuries; the police and national guard kept him tranquilized.

Now and then, the dosage was too much and the dragon was woozy as he hunted small creatures in the sea. Giselle stepped into her vehicle, and the traffic moved again, quicker this time. A part of Giselle ached for the dragon, too prehistoric ( perhaps, medieval) for the modern world; the only sea dragon left.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Fiction – I Need You Anyways #amwritingfiction #photochallenge #mindlovemiserysmenagerie


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge.


Credit: MLMM — Gabriel Isak


Grey, bleak, fogginess floods through summer light. An icy breeze whipping hair in my mouth, as the gulls chirp overhead and my last bottle shatters; no more messages in a bottle, carried in the waves. Paper airplanes glide in the breeze, one after the other. Will the breeze carry these words far enough? To the next island, the next ship? Or will these bottle–less messages be pounded in the wild storm, in the coast? Will they be understand? Will they be heard? Or, will it be too late to say the words that are never easy to say, never were: “I need you anyways.”


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Haikus — “Yesterdays End” #amwritingpoetry


Credit: Ihor Malytyski via Unsplash.


Evenings end July’s crackling,

Sparklers glimmer, night comes,

Friends close the evening.

*****

Another summer passes,

Red and white, so glorious;

Freedom, acceptance.

*****

But, you’re gone, tomorrow still;

Before our eyes emptiness,

Solstice without you.

****

A nightmare, a mercy too,

Still, there’s no you,to greet near;

Go on despite — live —

****

As you did, with grandpa’s death;

Later, maybe better words —

Can hark tearful tunes.

*****

For now you’re gone, passed but this —

Is your beginning blooming;

Neither is it our end.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 30: “No More Anger” #amwritingpoetry


Credit: NOAA via Unsplash.


I’ve put to rest my anger, resigned —

Unrest cast away with dislike, judgement.

I can’t do it anymore, let God judge.

As for me no disquiet, no more riots.

I’d rather love life, be judged for what’s true,

Not words or assumptions misconstrued.

I’ve worked hard to be healthy, to brew —

Something good from poison, eleven-years through.

Because you think it, doesn’t mean it’s me —

Doesn’t make it true, doesn’t give proof to words.

Quiet space’s essential, sorry for the hurt.

I’ve no reason to slight anyone; no one.

All I know are bits, pieces some words curt;

It’s not about me, I don’t hate; heal this how?


©️Mandibelle16.(2019) AllRights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo Day 29: Free Verse — “Healing Splinters”’#amwritingpoetry


For NaNoWriMo Day 29, Used my own prompt again.


Credit: Marinka Vinkman via Unsplash.


A perfect pane of glass, and all seen is crystal clear,

A rock chip fractured the perfection, and something broken won’t ever be the same.

The fracture lines still show, and slivered splinters ache.

Tiny diamonds to pull out; you can’t remove the pain yourself.

So, you sit and someone you don’t know, pokes and prods; it looks easy to remove,

The shard, the sliver, the hurt.

But, they dig around and hum a tune, as if these moments are nothing;

Small agony, plastic smiles in the end — as if a person’S brushed past.

Then, all of the paint, and the thickening mediums flood the canvas sky.

The masterpiece peeling paint, blotched lines, trailing wet drips, paths down a wall;

A damp foggy space and you keep cutting yourself, unable to see ten-steps ahead;

Day-by-day, you learn to let your wounds be, to reform pottery takes time — to heal with precious metal.

What’s the price, what’s the damage?What’s the favor or end game; what are the lies?

But then everyone’s suffering slivers, there’s glass on every road;

Popped tires, cars skid, windshields stunned; windows battered.

Eyes close, too many slivers slice, each somedays,

What’s the method to remove them without prodding half-healed scars?

Change a thoughtless habit, change the world; change only need be small.

No one asks for slivers, embedded glass in their hand, scar tissue that makes tiny wounds bleed;

When any human, no matter their background cries, mercy should be given without fail;

Care and concern without a price as sometimes there’s help — but then there’s help —

Precarious day’s where both you and I’ve done untold damage — but I’m learning we must repair wounds despite.

Tiny or gaping, the hurt matters not when it can be healed — be it with ease or struggle.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo Day 28/ Photo Challenge: “Blazed Flowers” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Photo Challenge. For NaPoWriMo as like the last few, it’s my own poems.



Drama, flashy scarlet blazed flowers;

Smeared paint exposed,

But, their witherings coming soon.

*****

Imagination is everywhere, flourishing in —

Whatever time lives;

In the humid horizon’s pull.

*****

In secrets, great mischief before,

Moves past brilliance —

Glittering, sky drops ambient stars.

*****

And white-noise dulls senses;

Wasp-words, tales,

Tones, of misunderstanding– play.

*****

Wilting begins, scarlet blooms remember,

Not the hurting,

Just words unsaid; say it.

*****

Inane games, rolling eyes; chatter —

Time fades so,

Say what you mean — say.

*****

Let the petals of yesterday,

Blow listless away;

Today’s a new dawn lit.

*****

Forget the yesterday’s —

No one knows,

The truth of each other.

*****

Next Spring we all re-blossom,

Poets words, views,

Are never what you’d think.

*****

People aren’t poetry, symbols are —

Obvious or not;

Red of blazed flower’s laugh.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

NaPoWriMo Day 27/ Three Line Tales: Lune – “Stalled” #amwritingpoetry


Thanks to Sonya of Three Line Tales.


Credit: Les Anderson via Unsplash.


She’s stalled, shapely yellow dress;

Lips scarlet, cheeks —

White heels; dazed diamond eyes.

*****

Hands clenched, lashes flicker midnight;

He’s there again,

Lies snicker, smoke daylight — fake.

*****

As if his fist slipped,

Bruised purple without —

Admitting truth; he maimed her.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 26: “Growing Aches” #amwritingpoetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 26, my own poem from a few weeks back.


Credit: Bruce Mars via Unsplash.


I am weakest (so you say),

That is when your strength defines me.

When I’m meekest and I ache and hurt,

When everyday problems snowball, regular sickness amplifies.

When I was used to doing whatever,

More than I’ve been in a long time ever.

Now, I fall into the pit,

Can’t reach out, the water swallows.

Double-hurt, such a good day then —

Did I overdo it?

I tried, to make a goal; to do just that.

It’s hot, hazy, beautiful outside,

But, the sunshine’s too bright,

Cars revving, pumping music; my ears pulse, some pain.

Am I an older person, in a 30-some body?

I try to be positive, today I cannot.

But I suppose, I must take time to heal,

That little flares, must be sealed to avoid a violent storm.

The process slow and agonizing, but I wait for tomorrow’s fun.

I wait, and I know not for what —

To be at that place where I can be independent,

Help more people and forget the ache — rocky roads tripping, ankle snapping,

Yesterday was as lost as today.

Now, I’m upset that I couldn’t do what I set out to do.

Oh, the plans of mice and men they say.

They’re rather meaningless in the scheme of things;

When health is mostly everything, because it connects to so much more;

And what was once given, is now, lost.

But, I will smile anyways;

I will push beyond these cracks and snarls in the dark.

I’ll find the suns jewels even if it’s an eternity spent aching to smile,

To return to a world of vivacious delight, despite.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 24: Poem – Sevenling – “Choosing Right” #amwritingpoetry


For #NaPoWriMo Day 24 using the Sevenling form again.


The elements of the Sevenling are:
1. a heptastich, a poem in 7 lines made up of 2 tercets followed by a single line. metered at the discretion of the poet.
2. unrhymed.
3. composed with 3 complimentary images in the first tercet and 3 parallel images in the second tercet. The end line is a juxtaposed summary of the 2 parallels, a sort of “punchline”.
4. the poem should be titled “Sevenling: (first few words of poem).


Credit: DeviantArt

Cold tentacles, the octopus‘, beady eyes blink;

Forgiveness, understanding maimed, vermilion sky’s bruised.

Deep purple chills, I — sea witch, clamber in grim slime.

Wind screeches, gusts as glass spikes; no harm do I wish.

Confession –I stole her voice, her sweet tune’s mute.

At moments, we’re all witches, change calms the violent storms.

There’s power overcoming spite, choosing right.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.