100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: “Heart Break” #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday! 

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Credit: Jennifer Pallian

——–

Everything had to be perfect. Kayla didn’t want this to be a one time affair. It was 1:00 p.m., and Tye had awoken hearing noises in Kayla’s kitchen. 

He lumbered in, taking a seat at the island where Kayla had prepared a tray with ‘hair of the dog.’

“Morning Tye, you probably have a killer hang over at your age,” Kayla teased.

Tye drank both drinks from the tray. “Feeling much better now. Where’s your brother? Did he crash here too?”

“We, no Tye, it was just us. Christian stayed at Mimi’s last night.”

“He’s a lucky guy. Mimi’s a fine woman.”

Kayla frowned, “What about last night? Aren’t you a ‘lucky guy’ too, Tye?”

“What about it?”

“Does it mean anything to you? You told me you loved me.”

Tye was silent, “From the moment I saw you in that short black dress . . . I don’t remember much. I drank a lot. It can’t mean anything, Kayla, even if I’ve always had a thing for you. You’re Christian’s sister, he’d kill me.”

“Not if you actually loved me. If you felt the way I feel about you.”

“Doesn’t matter –”

“It does matter because I’m twenty eight-years old, a grown woman. If last night meant nothing, just say it. Because I’m damn sure you’re lying when you say you don’t remember.”

Tye rubbed his face his eyes dazed. He lumbered back to the bedroom and began dressing.

He wouldn’t look at her and Kayla confronted him, catching him off guard. She pushed him hard and kept pushing, attempting to get a reaction from Tye when he grabbed both her hands holding her still. 

“I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. You may have not loved me then, but I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since I turned twenty-five. You like me a lot and you know it,” Kayla cried. 

She struggled, but Kye wouldn’t let go of her hands. He pressed his lips to hers, brushing them back and forth before pulling back. “This can’t happen again, Kayla. You know that, I’m engaged.” 

” Lisa doesn’t love you. You don’t owe that harpy anything.”

“I do owe it to her, we’ve been together five years.”

Tyler brushed his thumb against her lips and let go of Kayla. He left her bedroom to put on his dress shoes at the front door. “I wish I could be with you. But Lisa’s pregnant. If I don’t marry her she’ll never let me see my daughter, ever.” 

Kayla blanched. She tried not to burst into a crying jag as she held her throat feeling her breath constrict. She gazed at Tye, “Please tell me I wasn’t just some girl you slept with.” 

“I wasn’t that drunk, Kayla. I lied. Last night meant the world, but that’s why we have to both forget it.”

The door shutting echoed long after Tye left. Tears dripped down her cheeks as Kayla sat on the floor, a ferocious pain eating her alive inside as she wept. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Music/ Sunday Photo Fiction: Ship to the Stairway #flashfiction #musicchallenge 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s music challenge, “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin 

——-

Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

——–

“Stairway to Heaven” – Led Zeppelin 

——–

“This will get us there, you’re sure?” Avery asked the Captain. Her hands shook and sweat beaded on her forehead. 

” Yes Madam, as I’ve told the other passengers, who are equally as persistent, this will take us to the first step.” 

“The Stairway to Heaven? I can’t believe it. It’s for real, isn’t it?” 

“Well, Madam Avery, that’s what you paid all your money for. This is the only ship that can take you there. We’ll arrive shortly. Ask a flight attendant to give you some pills to calm you down. Soon, you’ll never need medicine again.” 

“But, what’s at the top of the Stairway? Streets filled with glittering gold? No more crying and no more pain?” 

“When we’re there you’ll know. Have faith, Madam.” 

Avery looking pale and feeling dehydrated suddenly fainted. The whole idea of reaching Heaven by space ship seemed unimaginable. 

When she woke up she was lying on a soft bed. There was a gate formed of pure gold and silver. Two regal guards stood nearby. 

“You there, both of you, where is this? I was supposed to be in Heaven I paid a great deal of money to get there, ” Avery said. 

The guards chuckled, “Madam Avery, don’t you know the Stairway and Heaven itself cannot be bought by humans.” 

“But what am I doing here?” 

“Quiet now. You’re in processing, they’re trying to decide about you,” one guard said. 

“Decide what?” 

“If somewhere deep inside you know Heaven was purchased for you long ago. If you know who bought it,” the second guard replied. 

Avery stomped her foot, “I deserve what’s coming to me.” 

The first guard shook his heads,” Wherever you end up, Madam Avery, you can be sure of that.” 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, dVerse, Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Cascading Etherees – “Silhouettes and Blessings” #poetry #dVerse #amwriting #SaturdayMix 


Thanks to Paul Scribbles from the Poet’s Pub for hosting a #dVerse prompt reply on blessings. I’m combining this #dVerse prompt missed with last week’s Saturday Mix Prompt from Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie‘s Prompt on doing a silhouette poem

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Credit: Eden Hills

———–

They’re not completely obvious, often —

Difficult to find, shadowed in, 

Darkness, silhouettes hidden by, 

Electrifying light so, 

Tangerine-orange that —

All behind it is, 

Hidden, pitch black, 

They are masked, 

Easy to, 

Miss. 

—–

But, 

I know, 

You have them, 

Thankfulness for —

Blessings in disguise. 

Shadowed, hidden behind, 

Glaring light, such blaring noise, 

Searching carefully, you’ll find them, 

You’ll see all along what’s been taken, 

For granted, unrecognized blessings. 

—–

Sometimes they feel like curses, too much work, 

Then, seeing others suffer you think, 

Realize life’s not at all bad.

You’ve all your basic needs met, 

You’ve extra money for, 

Luxury and treats, 

You’re well cared for, 

God’s blessed you, 

So share, 

Give

—–

Be, 

Not mean, 

Or spiteful, 

To those who beg, 

They need a little —

Help; some food, money to —

Make it through the day and —

Eat; find a place to sleep and to, 

Clean up; they only want to be like us, 

Have their needs met, with the odd treat too.

——

If only we all counted are blessings, 

When we were richly cared for, when He, 

Made sure we made a living. 

Had money to survive. 

To buy little extras.  

To be comfortable, 

Provided for.  

We rest, they —

Shiver, 

Cold.

——-

They’re 

Hurting. 

But it’s more, 

Than the unloved —

Silhouettes. 

Never seen, covered by —

The light in the background scene, 

Never visible, dark, unseen, 

We miss seeing them these figures who’ll, 

Disappear in dark, when sun falls and sets.

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Rondeau - aaabba, aabR, aabbaR, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday’s Hunt: Poem – Rondeau – “Midnight Prayers” #amwriting #poetry #saturdayshunt


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix and prompting us to personify an emotion. I can’t quite identify this one, but I’ll try. 

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Credit: Edith Hill

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Midnight prayers, bitter sweet, such raw aches burn, 

Reconcile the words, reasons my heart hurts.  

Midnight prayers, pleading for courage, concerns —

Of broken-hearted lonileness which —

Cannot be hidden behind work and lists, 

Keep yourself busy, exhaustion, pleads yearn —

To lay back and rest, a moment to breathe, 

Finding being busy deeply deceives. 

Just one more moment, I can laugh and dream; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

Here my desires, my concerns, my needs,  

Teach me to follow, in pain believe. 

There has to be more to life than alone, 

More than suffering, tears and sleepless moans. 

There’s a silver lining in ripped seams; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Works Published, Writing

Published Poetry – Spillwords: Free Verse – ” You Can’t Take The Pain Away” #amwriting #poetry #spillwords


Good Morning! I’m sharing a new piece of poetry. It hasn’t been published on my blog until now. Spillwords Press graciously published another one of my poems. Check them out at http://www.spillwords.com to publish some your best poetry and other writing. Here’s today’s poem: You Can’t Take the Pain Away

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Credit: http://www.spillwords.com

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© Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Deserved. 

MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Synchronicity Poetry - 8,8,2, -- surprise ending last 2 stanzas, Writing

Photo Challenge: Poem – Synchronocity – “Art Hell” #amwriting #poetry 


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

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Credit: Kyla @ Deviantart

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I’m a vivid monument, 

I’m his lover cruelly tricked, 

Just art. 

——

Result of magic powerful, 

A priest with such evil intent,

Wounds me. 

—–

For I had thought the toxic paint,

That burned my skin would kill me,

I wished.

——-

I only pass out the priest laughs, 

Eyes glinting, evil smile, tells me —

“Enjoy.”

—–

For this was my punishment,

Tempting our ‘leader’ with my love, 

Trapped now. 

—–

Not quite alive, not quite so dead,

My man, the leader, loves artwork, 

He stares.

—–

I wonder if he recognizes,

A shadow of his beloved gone, 

Each night. 
—–

He comes with pain others cannot —

Ever see; I could’ve been his, 

Soft place. 

—–

Never can I speak, the priest’s curse, 

Ensured silence, a spell took —

My voice.

—–

—–

I pray to God help me find —

My love jumps as my voice cries,

Returned. 

——

Becomes aghast, furious, 

He thinks me a dream I tell him,

The truth. 

—-

Our stories, our love, a life —

We’d planned and he listens,

With tears.

—–

Then such rage summoning priest,

Who is forced to repair me from this, 

Art hell.

——

I’m taken from between life and —

Death; restored to my former self, 

I’m saved.

—–

My hero never gave up on —

Me; didn’t believe I ran, now 

We’re us.

—-

Priest I have no knowledge of, 

My guy, our leader was enraged, 

Priest dead? 

—-

Or suffering hell as I?  

Two years in art trapped, lost; 

Now free.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Interviews, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Quotes, Writing

Interview With Deborah Glover #interview #nonfiction #writer #amwriting #blogger


Welcome to another edition of my bi-weekly interviews. I’m sorry this is a week late but better late than never eh? Anyways, I’m excited to share with you the beautiful, kind, and talented writer and blogger, Deborah Glover from the blog: BookyGLover.


Interview DebGlover
Credit: Deb Glover

1. Please Tell Us About Yourself? 

 

My name is Deborah (Booky Glover). I am from Ondo state, Nigeria, but I live in Lagos. I am a Choleric/Melancholic, my parents first child,  and with that position comes responsibilities. I am a teacher by profession and a writer by passion. I’m also a Christian. and a foodie who reads, writes, listens to music and loves to make new friends. I began my blog writing for my eyes only in 2005 but began blogging for anyone to visit starting in July of 2015.


2. What Does Writing and Blogging Mean To You? 

Writing is a means of expressing myself. Whatever I am feeling, thinking of, or going through, I can write about it. Writing became more important to me when I began to experience unpleasantness in life. It became my means of surviving. I wrote down my pain and anger and all this writing made me feel better. It helped me see that the things I was going through were not quite as bad as I thought. Writing my thoughts down also gave me understanding about my situation and a different perspective.


“Writing became more important to me when I began to experience unpleasantness in life. It became my means of surviving. I wrote down my pain and anger and all this writing made me feel better.” – Deb Glover


3. Where do you Find Your Inspiration and Motivation to Write? Do You Find There Is A Time of Day You Enjoy Writing Most?

Life is my motivation. I see people, I listen to their tales and in the stillness, the words come to me. After I start writing, I don’t stop writing until I feel my flow of thought is cut off. Music is inspirational as well. 

I don’t have a particular time I prefer writing. There are times when I wake early in the morning with the intention of writing and nothing comes out. At these times, writing becomes a chore and I write a lot of nonsense.

But, there are times when I’m walking down the road and a line comes to me, or many words rush into my mind. In those times, I pick up my pen and book and scribble beside the road. Other times I write in the receptionist office while I wait for a job interview. I write at odd times and I’ve learned to keep a paper and pen with me at all times, even at my bed side.


4. What is Your Most Current Writing Project? Have You Published Any Writing or Are Your Planning to Publish Any?

I’m working on a book. It’s a novel. I have been really lazy in working on it but in good time I’ll finish it. I have a complete Novella. It needs editing work, a book cover, and then publishing. However, I feel skeptical about it. I completed the novella back in 2014. 


“Life is my motivation. I see people, I listen to their tales and in the stillness, the words come to me. After I start writing, I don’t stop writing until I feel my flow of thought is cut off.” – Deb Glover


 

InterviewDebGlover2
Credit: Deborah Glover

5. What Kind of Publishing Are You Considering? What Is Your Process of Writing Like? 

I have books I have read on publishing a book and I’ve chosen to self-publish online before publishing paperback novels. The first book I publish might be free.

 My writing process begins when a thought drops into my mind and I write until the flow of ideas stops. Then I leave my work for a while — a few hours, a day or more — then I return to it to edit or see what can be made better in the story. For the stories or poems I write on my blog site, they are mostly unplanned. I write as the inspiration comes. I write for myself and hope that someone out there can relate to what I am feeling or what my feelings manifest as.


6. Do Prefer Certain Areas of Writing or Reading? Do You Have Favorite Genres? Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers? 

I like reading historical romances, detective books, poetry, African writers (mainstream), and sometimes I read Christian books. Apart from these genres, I read pretty much anything as long as it is a book. I only fling a book to the corner of the room when I’m halfway through the book and it is not making sense yet. I like to give every book I choose to read a chance.

Advice for other writers would be: Write. Write to please yourself. No one has written the exact way you write, no one has seen the world the way you see it. No one will put it down the way you would.


  “My writing process begins when a thought drops into my mind and I write until the flow of ideas stops. Then I leave my work for a while — a few hours, a day or more — then I return to it to edit or see what can be made better in the story.” – Deb Glover


7. Is There Anything Else You Would Like to Share With Us Pertinent to Writing or Yourself? 

Every writer shares bits and pieces of herself/himself. We are after all everyday people. I find out that when those bits slip into my work, I produce something beautiful. A work that makes me ask myself, ‘Did I really write something that good?”


8. Please Share With Us Your Top Three Favorite Blogs:  

  • Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha — Jacqueline’s posts vary from poetry, fiction, personal issues, to photography. She hosts blogging parties and I’ve always enjoyed meeting new bloggers through them.
  •  Sweet Aroma — Oneta Hayes is a great-grandma who is passionate about life, living, Christianity, humanity, and most importantly, she shows me how to be a better person through her comments on my blog posts. She’s one awesome woman!
  • Adebisi Olatunji FeminineMaterz — Adebisi does not write so much poetry but she shares the reality of our world in regards to the viewpoints of a woman. She dabbles in story writing and so far, it has been fun following her blog.

 P.S – Most of the blogs I follow are awesome and I could talk about each of them and tell you how beautiful they make my day.


9. Please Share With Us Some of Your Favorite Links from Your Blog:

Keep Moving Forward

By Deborah Glover

*****

“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

One-Liner Wednesday.

*****

Thank God, I’ve been a lot better. I am taking each day with all the bravery and courage my little heart can muster. I recently have had issues with my phone and this makes blogging, writing, or reading a chore. I have abandoned my e-books for paperbacks and long hours of chatting has changed into hours of reading my Bible and reading books I have not touched or opened in two years.

The words of Martin Luther King Jr. keep ringing in my heart. I have to keep moving forward. This quote has been my father’s favorite. We have had tough times in the family and he always said the quote below to me. He would quote Martin Luther King Jr words.

I won’t give up. You shouldn’t give up too.

Until next time,

Blessings!


“Booky, I won’t say there are problems so I won’t make an effort to be better. I have to keep investing time in my career, my vision and you have to do the same. If you can’t run, you walk….” — Mr. Glover (Deborah’s Dad)


Here Are Three More Links from Deborah’s Blog to Read:

 


Thank you so much to Deborah for sharing her writing and bits of her life with us. I appreciate her wanting to be interviewed and hope she is happy with the results. I am looking forward her novella and current novel, being published through self-publishing or otherwise. Here is the link to Deborah’s blog one more time: BookyGLover.

If you are a writer or blogger who would like to be interviewed for my biweekly interview series please contact me through my contact page HERE.  See you in a week, I’m going to try to get the interviews back on their every second Monday schedule. 


©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

Couplets - rhyme and have same meter, Current Events, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

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

——-

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.

——



———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.


Fiction, Free Verse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “The Healing Touch” #amwriting #poetry 


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

——–

Credit: Laura Williams

———

Many faces have I, but don’t let me evaporate.

Too many masks I wear within to cover the scars that bind,

The twisting vines of ruined skin,

Not even plastic surgery could heal.

And the whispers of the dreadful night,

They haunt me in my sleep.

Each nightmare worse than the last, entrenching me in madness.

Crying and shaking, in a world I cannot escape.

My screams echoeing from the domed ceiling,

In St. Peter’s Basilica, my heart a kindled pyre.

Does God hear me, my fervent prayers without pride?

I know if He did, he would answer what I seek,

Provide relief from the cruelty of my suffering;

Of the ache and the burn in my skin.

He’d be a cooling gentle wind to end the burning flames,

I hope in my meekness for God as Elijah knew.

I try to forget. to move on, hiding behind masks so I’m safe.

My scars are not physical but they hide beneath skin,

Where plastic surgery cannot salvage a broken soul.

I’m a wretched bloody mess and my stomach is churning,

Why are the worst injuries, the ones you cannot see?

Why do people only see skin deep?

Not many will peer beneath the perfect layers of white ivory,

To see the layers underneath charred and scorched.

Many will not look past the words on your lips,

They are not interested in how a person says certain words,

Or why they say what do.

Many people hear only what they want to hear,

And if you choose to scream,

Than you’re the crazy one seeking attention.

But many screams are silent,

Before they are ever heard out loud,

This is why we need listeners and those with empathy,

To overcome those overflowing with ignorance and apathy to life;

To realize there is meaning in helping your neighbor out.

For we all have hidden scars and screams,

And most of them are dug deeply within our souls.

They wind around a person’s heart, a choking vine envokes —

A cry for help, so please hear it, long before we shout out loud,

Be still for a moment and listen well.

Respond before the masks hide many other faces and mine;

Act before you start cutting into our hearts,

Doing much more harm than good.

Watch your words and carefully avoid —

Assault and battery, for refusing to help those in need —

Refusing to help those lost in their pain. 

Heal with laughter and conversation,

A piece of your precious time.

Do not forget the meek and lowly,

We all need help discovering pathways into stardust.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.