Photo Challenge: Poem – Quadrille – “Orange Crushed Tangerine after Nightmares” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to NEKEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo challenge. I’m combining the prompt with the #dverse Quadrille prompt hosted by WHIMSYGIZMO at the Poet’s Pub. The theme this week is storms. 

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Credit: NEKNEERAJ

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Drowning in puddles, 

Forgetting undertow, 
Choking up waves, 

Coughing salty water. 

Betrayed by thirst, 

Middle of nowhere. 

Threatening typhoons, 

Weeping salt, 

Soul forgotten.

The nightmare’s, 

Encompassing, drowning, 

Until you awake. 

Orange crushed tangerine bleeds;

Vivid dreams cracked. 

Dawn rescuing,

Stranded heart beats. 

Birds on power lines,  

It’s glorious morning,

Just breathe. 

——–

©Mandibele16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Day 23 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Photo Challenge: Poem – Elevenie – “The Mending Woman” #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #photochallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write, “an elevenie. An an eleven-word poem of five lines, with each line performing a specific task in the poem. The first line is one word, a noun. The second line is two words that explain what the noun in the first line does, the third line explains where the noun is in three words, the fourth line provides further explanation in four words, and the fifth line concludes with one word that sums up the feeling or result of the first line’s noun being what it is and where it is.”

The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s prompt is for the letter T. Also thank you to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo challenge. 

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Credit: Source Unknown

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“[F]abrics doesn’t make exquisite dresses, it is the stitches. — Treasure Stitches

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Seamstress,

Sewing powerlines, 

Deserted highway dusk. 

She fixes everything she’s —

Skilled. 

—–

Highway, 

Snowy, windy,

Middle of countryside 

A giant needle weaves, 

Stitches.

——-

Seamstress, 

Never pausing, 

Amidst winding roads, 

Fixing energies flow, she’s 

Wired. 

——

Fixer, 

Forever career, 

Barren places found,

Mending for others but —

Forlorn.  

——

Belongings, 

In backpack, 

Town to Town, 

Igniting power’s wicked spark, 

Gone.

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Hitchhiker, 

Purposeful steps, 

Melting snow puddles, 

Spring follows, winter mended, 

Warmth. 

Mender, 

Stitching problems, 

Walks estranged roads, 

Sewing all problems, she —

Disappears

—–

Gone, 

Out of —

Sight of strangelands, 

Goes where the wind, 

Blows. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction – The Impressionist Sunrise#amwriting #saturdaymix #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bastet at MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie  for hosting Saturday Mix this week. Today’s prompt is a 100 Word story on a spring photograph using descriptive writing.


Spring Image MLMM
Credit: Edgewood Garden, Washington State; MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie -Bastet

At this early hour the sky is grey and misty. Fog creeps across the water hiding its blue-green brilliance. The mist veils all, yet in the distance, luminous rays of sunlight glance across the sky. I can see the mist disappate as the eastern sunlight envelopes the gray with golden rays, paint strokes of orange and pink. 

The robins tweet joyfully and the trees are bursting with green buds, the promise of white blossoms soon. I’m enthralled by the dawn and the once dank becoming intensly vivid. Something inside me relaxes as morning awakes. It feels as if I’m in the middle of an impressionist sunrise. 


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Friday Fictioneer: The Mystery of the Chair in The Middle of The Lake #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.

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Credit: Ted Strutz

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“Hey Liz, what’s your kitchen chair doing out in the middle of the lake?” Barb asked.

Liz was perplexed, “My first thought was that my boys had done this, thinking it would be funny. But this is just the type of thing their Dad would think was hilarious too.”

“Maybe Mark did it?” 

“No he was out like a light at 10:00 pm. The boys were genuinely surprised about the chair and ran to the window to see it. I actually believe they didn’t do it,” Liz said. 

—–

The next day the snow was blizzarding, the temperatures so frigid the lake froze thickly. When warmer weather returned Liz saw her Dad outside fishing through a hole in the ice. 

She smiled walking out to the ice where her Dad sat:”Dad, did you move this chair outside for fishing?” 

Liz’s Dad laughed,” I did not. But it was just sitting here so I figured why not use it?” 

The mystery of the chair in the middle of the lake continues. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: The Great Dachshund Escape #amwriting #flashfiction #pets #fiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode

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I was sitting on a ferry boat, on my way to a speciality grocery store, when I heard yelling and screaming from behind where I sat. A fifty-some couple were engaged in a physical and verbal sparring match with Peppy the dachshund literally in the middle. 

Margo, refused to give Peppy up to her ex-boyfriend, Simon.”He was my dog before we started going out, and he’s my dog now that we’re breaking up.” 

“That’s not fair, he’s part of my family now. Peppy sits by me most of the day because I work from home. He should be with me in the week. You can have Peppy on weekends,” Simon countered.

Margo scoffed and was about to jab Simon in the chest when Peppy managed to squeeze his way out from between both owners. 

They chased him down the steps and down to the plank where people walked onto the ferry. Peppy jumped in the water, the plank in the process of being removed, and swam to shore before running away. 

I wonder if Margo or Simon ever saw him again? 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for The Purposeful Practitioner: The Open Road


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.


road
Credit: Roger Shipp

The open road can take you anywhere. There are many places to go, its so difficult to decide precisely which road you will take. On one hand, you have opportunity and potential before you. You’re bursting with aspirations and a chance to discover a new or familiar place and make it your own. You’ve a desire to create lasting and meaningful memories.

But on the other hand, there’s the downside of open roads. Roads aren’t always safe. You believe the road ahead is empty, but you never see a speeding car whipping out, when you both crash. You aren’t paying attention when you see a moose in the middle of the road, directly in your path. You may have the SUV but he’s huge and more likely to kill you.

Journeys aren’t what we think they’ll be. Some of them lead to misery and pain.Some of them lead to mistakes and learning the hard way. But it’s the price of travelling the open road. As you’ve little idea if you’re playing the correct card in a Black Jack, you have little idea where that open road will lead, or end.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “A Scream” #amwriting #scream #horror #poetry


I have been watching this Scream series, done by Netflix, loosely based on the Scream horror films from when I was a teenager. The show is pretty decent. It has interesting characters with more depth because you can do that with episodes as opposed to movies. As well, the creators are able to string the plot out, giving the episodes more meat that way. It remains a typical teen horror genre show, as the movies were, but I enjoy it. Maybe it’s nastelgia, or maybe it’s knowing most of the main characters are going to get killed off. But exactly how? And when? 

The poem below is loosely based off of the Netflix series.

http://www.hollywoodreporter.com

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Life’s a scream,You may not find much, you can redeem.
When life’s a scream,

The parties, drinking, people becoming obscene.

And life’s a scream,

You may not find, the pearl in the center of your dreams.

Life’s a scream, 

But I find this horror genre a has been,

Life’s a scream,

In the day, the conversation ebbs and sways; I lean,

On sidewalk cracks and think, life’s a scream,

Unless you’re out of your mind trying not to bleed.

A wound from your soul; life’s a scream,

When were caught in-between, the middle and the end scene.

Yes, life’s a scream,

The killer lurking, ending all our dreams.

But people keep on saying, ” Life’s a scream.”

Yet, it’s only madness; ripped out seams;

Here’s to everything; life’s a scream,

In the end, a dark blank screen. 

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: “A Sunny Place.”


   

 So many thoughts, my head is all full. I guess it’s important to go outside more and face the world.

When you’re lost in a pool of ideas, and typing as if you are machine connected to a program. You need to talk to friends and not worry.

But writers become lost in their stories. They develop a strange sort of relationship with their characters.

Other people’s opinions and ideas are fresh meat for the meal, a smorgasbord of aspects to consider.

You become lost in the imaginary. In planning your next move. Outside the sky is blue and it’s only minus two degrees Celsius. 

Go for a walk and see your neighbours out with pets. Go for a coffee, meet a friend, or eavesdrop on the conversations of perfect strangers. 

Get away from the online. Social media can be exhausting. Forget about your dear internet friends, and make a new friend whose real and has a life you can hear about and talk with them.

Forget about guys who treat you badly. And forget about all the subtext behind chatting or messaging. Trying to judge what’s real with a keyboard and screen. 

Remember people build their own profile and appear who they want to be. Better to meet a guy at a bar, sadly. Better to meet someone at the grocery store or while sipping tea. 

Better to get outside and be single. Forget pressure from your ex who still wants to be together. Forget pressure from guys who only want to get laid.

There is everything to write and not enough time in the day. There is all these feelings to feel, but are they real?

Everyday is a blank page and I fill it up until I’m exhausted. I’m trying to keep busy but I don’t know how it could be busier. 

I have dreams. I’m only trying to make them real. I can’t help that my dreams are in another world and my characters are in such a state–

I have to type more words and solve their problem. I have to plan more to reach the denouement. I have to write a good story that somehow pleases me and other people. 

I need to relax under a bright sunny sky. Sitting on a beach. I think it’s been years. I need to sit in the sun and read a paperback. I need to feel sand warm beneath my feet.

I need to find a happy medium. This pace is stressful and I’m always afraid of returning to darker days. I need to make  myself real. 

I don’t want to miss connections in the outside world.I need a healthy mix of alone time and vivid memories with my friends. I’d like to try something new.

Inspiration and energy amisdt a large crowd. A beer in my hand, no wait, I’m on a diet. So, a glass of Perrier and lime juice will do, soaking up conversations, sun, and new faces. 

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.