Day 26- NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Tale Weavers: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (2) – “Under the Same Moon” #poetry #AtoZChallenge #NaPoWriMo #future

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write about wondering what “future archaeologists, whether human or from an alien civilization, will make of us . . . exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.” Thanks to Michael of last week’s Tale Weavers from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie who provided a prompt about the moon. As well for A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s quote the letter today is the letter W. 

The Moon
Credit: Michael – MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie

” . . . All that is now / [a]ll that is gone/ [a]ll that’s to come / and everything under the sun is in tune/ but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

“There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it’s all dark.”
Roger Waters

Gazing into the future, ‘neath a pale moon gleaming bright,

Hard to believe, people who were, saw the same moon’s shining light.

They had houses, electricity.

So many ethnicities.

It’s different now, the gene pool changed,

Those who look unique all estranged.

All look like us, all brown eyes, dark hair, and medium skin too.

I can scarce picture blond, red-haired, green eyes, or eyes so blue.

Genetic defects they called them, so now we’re all plain, the same,

It’s weird to think, they dyed their hair, all colors, none went gray.

How was it to be individual,

Not for the whole good — sacrificial.

What makes a person now is,

Incredibly different knowing this —

Society of people who fell as those before left their cities,

Frames of what once was, rusted metal, not all that pretty.

Their language full of slang, we cannot pin down lingiustics,

Cannot find words, spoken globally, their lyrics I sing.

But their music is strange, listened —

To some and our technology it fits.

Technology they had weird, but we —

Discover strange things, sound gleaned.

Words not understandable but melodies clear and bright,

 Music is forbidden, I sing in secrecy to ancient tunes light.

Some days we watch their stories, their films, when the moon is round.

My favorite days, those brilliant plays, words with lovely sound.

And we find little toys, scrapbooks, phones,

While in the distance the guns drone.

Each man, each woman a soldier,

Controlled by who knows? With no souls.

No hope as those gone far ago had, of a war ending soon,

Gazing into the future, we lived under the same moon.



©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer P2: The Liberty of Choice #amwriting #flashfiction #music 

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. If you didn’t already know this is a Part 2 to Part 1 (found here).


Credit: Mike Vore


Part 2:

When Evangeline left home, she didn’t take a cent of the money she had earned playing piano at concerts. 

To make a living she learned to play guitar and sing vocals with various bands at ‘hole in the wall’ clubs in L.A. What little money she had she used for voice lessons, rent, and food.  She increasingly wrote and sang her own songs. 

At twenty-four, Evangeline auditioned for the popular reality TV show, “The Voice.” From the beginning, her talent blew the judges away and she eventually won first place. She called home and invited her mom to come see her final performance for the show.

 When Evangeline sat down in front of the grand piano her hands shook above the piano keys. She hadn’t played a piano in three years beyond practising in private for the finale show. She surprised everyone with her skillful piano playing and successful rendition of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back.” 

At the end of that night Evangeline hugged her mom. Every ounce of resentment and hate she felt for Ruth in the past had faded. She was also amused when she remembered the priceless expression on her mother’s face, hearing the lyrics to “Sexy Back.” 

She was also grateful Ruth had pushed her and provided Evangeline a background as a performer. It gave her an edge as she was now able to pursue her musical talents true to her own choices. 


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Saturday Mix: A Pug Life #amwriting #flashfiction #pugs 

Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix. We have a cute tale to tell this week, life from a pug’s view. You can see the little guy/gal below:


Credit: Lorraine 2017
Credit: Lorraine 2017 – MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

“So you’re home. It’s about time, I had to go outside and use the grass but you took your sweet time coming home today. You shouldn’t do that — I hate going on the rug because you label me a ‘bad dog.’ But I’d like to see you hold it from 8:30 am until 6:00 pm at night. 

Oh by the way, I ate kibble for breakfast and supper and you were stingy on the foods scraps. I live for table scraps. Well that and going to the offleash park but I’m feeling suspicious. Last Saturday you promised the off leash park and instead I ended up at the V-E-T. I know what that means now! 

The V-E-T is a nasty guy, he cut my nails, a couple so short they bled. And those ‘shots,’what did I ever do to you but love you? You deserved it when I ignored you the next two days.” 

“Here Carla, treat Carla. Sit pretty!”

“Oh yes, you said treat! I want it now. I’ll beg, sit pretty, act all lovey, whatever you want!!!” 


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Poem – Blitz – “Returning” #amwriting #poetry 

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


Credit: Mario Gervals


Aurora-borealis paints the sky

Hues of light to charm

Charm the cold from old man winter’s grasp

Charm the sky hovering, colours delightful still

Still as the snow when it stops

Still as the young man in the living room

Room in a home where he’s troubled 

Room of the television — loud sports

Sports of the freezing weather

Sports loved best

Best loved is hockey

Best loved he watches, engrained 

Engrained in the screen

Engrained in the game 

Game on and he misses his wife as she drives away

Game of his wife searching for time

Time ended when she him left 

Time is new for her; he doesn’t care now

Now she moves on 

Now she is but thrilled

Thrilled, yet in a storm she drives

Thrilled to have escaped without another fight 

Fights always happen

Fights which got worse, never stopped

Stopped when she rethought her life

Stopped when she said, “I’m gone” 

Gone while the new sliver of a TV loudly plays

Gone, he knows it it, feels depressed

Depressed at the mess of his life

Depressed, slight lines etched into his face

Face with red eyes

Face with mouth stifling sobs

Sobs because she’s gone for good

Sobs because she gazed at him appalled

Appalled because he always yelled

Appalled because he’s why ‘they’re finished

Finished forever, she’s free

Finished, but she’s not safe in such a blizzarding storm

Storm outside flinging snow in his face

Storm outside, her car didn’t make it far

Far off and tired the look in her eyes

Far off but tears streaming ’cause she’s stuck 

Stuck in the bank of snow 

Stuck in her life, no escape

Escape life here, without him?

Escape yet, she’s glad, for her, he came 

Came, so she takes him back; he understands now

Came, so they return to times where they showed

Showed love, affection where no distance divides 

Now acts of love, little things, change the future


©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.


Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode


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? 


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

November Notes: Day 5- Poem – La’ Tuine – “Redeem Your Girl” #novembernotes #poetry #amwriting 

Today’s prompt song “Criminal” by Fiona Apple.


“Criminal” – Fiona Apple



Bad girls get things done, get what they want. 

Girls with stone hearts, don’t hear mean taunts, 

They’re invincible, wild; know how to flaunt. 

You won’t get past their walls, their dauntless. 


A little crack formed, stone heart releasing, 

Her emotions unceasing —

Guilt claws inside of her, has no peace. 

Demons of her past, screaming though deceased. 


Raw heart brought forth, your her only love; 

Needs to be redeemed –a sinner smudged

Thoughtless before; she needs her beloved. 

Your criminal, she needs kid gloves. 


Tell her what to do and how to act now, 

Not to be a defiant girl, too proud. 

Forgive her drunken haze –parties loud, 

Redeem your Criminal right now. 

Redeem your Criminal right now. 



©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Poem – Mirrored Sestet – “Fear of Moon” #amwriting #poetry 

Thanks to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this tarot prompt of the moon.



World is dim, unconsciousness formed swirls.

Swirls call my mind to odd distant other worlds.

Journey, searching, will I find a place worth, 

Worth finding strange people, repeat journey

Cannot do what I need to do, what’s taught

Taught in school, remembered, forget I cannot


Always search, but I never find hallways

 Hallways leading home, place needed always

Excitement high feeds my  inticements

Inticement lingers, through mass excitement

Words coming from my mouth, words but unheard.

Unheard words, no one understands my words.


Dreamscapes, such funny places explored seem

Seem alive but hiding painful dreamscapes

No escape, when you wish to climb, landscapes.

Landscapes change in dreams I find, no escape. 

Colourful world, weird place some twisted other —

Other world catches, enfolds, colourful world. 


Where am I, that I chase and can’t find there

There? Places which are morphed, a trap, go where? 

Placed objects in my hands, details I traced

Traced how they felt before I left replaced

Shimmering full moon glimmering.

Glimmering dark moon shimmering. 


In dreams the moon it haunts, whispers of sin,

Sins past, present, future not letting in —

Hoping of waking up, tired of fake words spoke.

Spoke from mouths which would never stop hoping.

Here they do, the moon crushing hope with fear.

Fear it rules night, moon glows; yet morn now here


A Mirrored Sestet –

The Mirror Sestet, created by Shelley A. Cephas, is a poem that can be written in one or more stanzas of 6 lines each. The specific guidelines for this form are as follows:
The first word of line 1 rhymes with the last word of line 1.
The first word of line 2 is the last word of line 1

and the last word of line 2 is the 1st word of line 1.


The first word of line 3 rhymes with the last word of line 3.
The first word of line 4 is the last word of line 3

and the last word of line 4 is the 1st word of line 3.


The first word of line 5 rhymes with the last word of line 5.
The first word of line 6 is the last word of line 5

and the last word of line 6 is the 1st word of line 5.


The Mirror Sestet can also be written in non-rhyme.

All rules must be followed except there is no 1st and last word rhyming.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part Seven – Nineteen-Years Later

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

Lamp Post SPF
A Mixed Bag

“Ah, my back. A bullet hit me,” Chad was almost crying. He was half-awake and half in another wold.

He was dreaming of a lamp post glowing in the night beside a park bench. Soothing Russian words came from a man in front of him. The man was a man he had thought was his dead father, Tom.

Then, Sam shook Chad awake,”I know you’re not trained for this Chad. I’m so proud of you, but you have to stay awake.”

Chad groaned, turned on his stomach. He was shocked to see he had been shot right through his cartoon seal tattoo.

“Marrion, look at my tattoo.” Chad rasped.

Marrion was hiding on the floor beside Chad and Sam. They were behind the science lab counters in the back of the lab.

She gasped, grabbing the device she had used to scan Chad’s tattoo before and scanning his tattoo again. She hurriedly, grabbed gauze from a cupboard under a counter.

“Thank God,” she said. “Chad hold the gauze against your tattoo or you’re going to die.”

She smiled at both Sam and Chad: “The bullet deactivated Chad’s tattoo. For all of the technology put into the tattoo, none of it works now.”

The gunshots came closer and the glass from the front door of the lab shattered. Then there were voices.” I remember that voice speaking Russian,” Chad murmured.

“Tom speaks Russian.”  Sam said, then was shocked to hear the distinct tone of his brother’s voice.

“Tom’s here,” Marrion said shaking, pressing her hand against the gauze on Chad’s wound.

“It will be okay honey, I’ve got Tom.” Sam said soothingly. He got up, holding a large gun ready to fire. He slowly, walked towards the sound of Tom’s voice.

“Well, well,” a voice said in English.”My brother Sam. Here to kill me again? You need to give me Chad now.”

“Get ready to run Chad. It’s going to hurt you,” Marrion whispered.

They both escaped out an emergency door to the lab. The fire alarms went off covering Chad’s screams of pain.

He heard yelling and footsteps behind him, before he again, passed-out.

Read part 6 here.

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Alouettes – “Time Whispers” #wordhighjuly #amwriting #poetry



Transported back in, 

Time we see motion.

Life changing as minutes pass.

Cannot return there.

For we are now here.

Not in memory, or past.


Gunita capture, 

Threads which sewn fast were,

Unravelled in the mind of, 

Our recollections.

Our past devotions.

Needles sewing, they swerve.


Stitching anew life, 

Pricking with new strife.

New memories become past.

Recalling our joy.

Thinking of child’s toys.

Children no longer, grew fast.


Moonlight and stars beam

Under ink sky winds stream.

The leaves of the forest so green.

As we run to wild seas.

Our voices carry dreams.

Full orb, in glory, moonbeam.


Daylight bringing new, 

Light and laughter true.

Throwing pennies in the fountain.

Wishes and kisses.

True love blisses.

Young then, we climbed high mountains.


Adventures of us, 

In today’s world fuss, 

We do what we do because,

We have plans, desires.

Travel with heart fire.

Perceive present, will be a was.


Building and shining,

Memories divine.

For one day will have but whispers.

In our minds thrive, 

Memory keeps alive.

Though the world yells; we whisper.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Poem: Ghazal -“Newest Illusion”

A Ghazal is a poem that is made up like an odd numbered chain of couplets, where each couplet is an independent poem. It should be natural to put a comma at the end of the first line. The Ghazal has a refrain of one to three words that repeat, and an inline rhyme that precedes the refrain. Lines 1 and 2, then every second line, has this refrain and inline rhyme, and the last couplet should refer to the authors pen-name… The rhyming scheme is AA bA cA dA eA etc.

Please see Shadow Poetry for further information.

To explain this definition in my poem, ‘illusion’ is my repeating refrain and the word ‘trusting’ is the inline rhyme word that I’m working with in my poem for line A.




Mirage of sensations, not trusting your illusion.

Letting go, letting you in — difficult, just an illusion,

Words swimming in my mind, creatures of the depths in flight,

Begun ‘us,’ place my heart in your hands — I must; illusion.

Images of red, colour offends me from my past life,

Wobbly bridge, cross to you or stuck, you an illusion.

Travelling wisps in the darkness they kiss, ghostly mist.

Implies, in my dreams, I have to risk, not just illusions.

Fantasy helps me escape you’re real, you’re here.

Thoughts unravel typing, wonder must I see illusion?

Confusion alludes to facts, can’t trust my own heart beating so fast.

Around you I find, feeling lust I conclude, you’re illusion.

Days will pass, yesterday is past, don’t relax yet, sublimity.

Thunderstorm forming, anger conforms, rusty old illusion.

Moments they hinder, life from lingering as you drift on by,

Would you be my shelter, find in me hope and trust — illusion.

Our minds whirl, spin, all over the place, seeking a resting place.

Need you to be my peaceful place in life, not just illusion.

Wrapped in your arms, haven of warmth, hearts beating as one,

Didn’t know, what I know now, you’re a must, no illusion.


©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.