Actor/ Actress, Fiction, Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Writing: Poem – Licentia – ” Plastic Drowns” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to ScribblersDip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this last Sunday’s Writing Prompt quote/collage.

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Credit: ScribblersDip MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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“Stuck in a generation where loyalty is just a tattoo, love is just a quote, and lying is the new truth.” 

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Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Games insane, thinks she’s Queen, now breath wanes. 

Her long voluminous eyelash extensions sweep, 

Dyed hair weeps silver strands on botoxed cheeks. 

Ingenuine smile teeth veneers and braces;

Blond bombshell Marilyn’s plastic twin races. 

Against the clock to keep her youth, nips tucks —

Child’s facelift, brow lift microbladed must. 

Hearts and flower tattoos, she’s loved a few but, 

Never many, not one recalled past lust. 

Queen Bee, they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 

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Her long voluminous eyelash extensions sweep, 

Dyed hair weeps silver strands on botoxed cheeks. 

Today she thinks she’ll dye her hair as red, 

As the hair on princess Ariel’s head. 

Red, red with gown to rival ocean’s surf, 

Sea-green, topaz-mint silk fabric unearthed. 

Some taffeta so dress floats, one-strap to bare, 

More skin, her bodice diamond encrusted layers. 

Lenses to make her eyes seafoam green dots, 

Corset pulled tight, plastic chest pulled up-top. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 
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Ingenuine smile veneers and braces;

Blond bombshell Marilyn’s plastic twin races. 

Thought of need for actual dental design, 

Never entered mind, pristine teeth inclined. 

No thoughts of cost, credit cards, her wealth, 

All for looks, a beauty drowning herself. 

Procedures, weekly treatments, face, body; 

Hair coiffed, eyebrows plucked, tinted; applauded —

By those like her who in shallowness confound. 

In ankle deep depth succumb and all drown. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane game, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 

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Against the clock to keep her youth, nips tucks —

Child’s facelift, eyebrows high microbladed must.

Could one drown, sputter, choke on water just —
Because they’re steeped in procedures, a must?

Plastic to fill the cracks where natural beauty, 

Flourished; sweet, beautiful, but not enough, 

Now fakeness hides inner trauma, no trust. 

Grew up in the snake pit of Divas; ‘subtly — 

Enhanced,’ language unknown, tears burn eyes, flood —

Place she can’t be saved, where the cost is blood. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes

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Hearts and flower tattoos, she’s loved a few but, 

Never many, any one recalled past lust. 

Her love was herself, no one else mattered, 

Life reveals and such vanity shatters. 

Until she realizes the heart must be built, 

For the body ages becomes as ash, silt. 

She can fake youth or be classically

Lovely, elegant, forever dazzling.

Graceful aging,with minor repairs, 

Youth found in caring, she’ll not drown despaired. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes
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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, My Thoughts, Poetry, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: Poem – Lunes – “Dazzling Warmth” #3Linetales #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. 

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Credit: Zara Walker via UpSplash

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Wool of coat, not enough, 

A chill fills, 

Air crisp, bitter, it nips. 

—-

Icey cold cheeks, Mom’s hand, 

Feels my skin, 

Sparkler stick held, heat dazzling

—-

Such sparks fly, ignited shimmering, 

Burning radiant stick, 

Warmth fills the chilled night.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Sunday Photo Fiction: “Deme, No . . .”


Alistair Forbes

 
I enjoy Sunday mornings because it is the only time I don’t feel stressed. My fiancé Mason and I often take Deme our lab, to the dog park. 

Today, Deme has spied ducks walking onto the grass by the lake. ” Deme come,” I say sternly. “Mommy says come here now.” She gives me that look dogs give you when they are going to do what they want even when you tell them ‘No.’ 
Deme picks up the tiniest duckling in her mouth.

“Down, put the duckling down, Deme.” Mason warns. Deme begins to shake the duckling and play with it. “Deme no! Bad dog.” Mason says in a deep threatening voice. 

Then to our amazement there is only a fluff of feathers. I’m not sure how, but our lab has swallowed a duckling, with only a few chomps. Mama duck is furious and chases Deme everywhere.

” Come here, Deme.” I shout to her. She comes quickly, begging me to save her with a whimper. But I am too late, Mama duck bites Deme on the butt, three times. 

There is something horrid about Deme eating a precious tiny duckling. But then again, as Darwinian’s would put it, it’s natural selection.

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SFP.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.