Actor/ Actress, Beauty, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Free Verse, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

———

Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

——

As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

——

Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

—–

You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

—–

Credit: Laces and Tiaras

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Diamanté, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Travel, Writing

Poem: Diamanté – ” Fire, Phoenix, Light, and Darkness” #poetry #amwriting #music 


“Just Like Fire” – P!nk

——

Fire,
Scorching, Singeing.

Destroying, Cleansing, Burning all. 

Sparks inside me, embers glowing.

Remenants of yesterday dying.

Acrid smell, Burnt scent, Dusty death.

Blowing winds, Becoming but —

Ashes.

——–

Fire,

Flaming, Fluid heat, 

Interrupting life, Avenging, Lighting pathways.

Devastating the place called home.

Lighting the way back to safety, when enclosed.

Luminous candle, Glowing street lamp, Gleaming stars.

Beaming, Brighten’s with —

Light.

——

Ashes,

Grey silt, Smokey remains.

Leftovers, Burnt black-wood, Coughing fits.

From the ashes, rises the grand Phoenix.

Still the Phoenix becomes the fire.

Spreading fast, Blackening souls, Killing life.

Warmth, Hearth, 

Fire.

—–

Phoenix,

Reddish feathers, Flying past, 

Wings spanning, Soaring fast, Exploring the sky.

The fire brings the smoke to rise in plumes, 

The smoke also signals rebirth — to live again.

Light in Darkness, Glistening stars, Glazing flame.

Hope in , Glory of —

Light. 

—–

Light 

Beaming, Revealing, 

Unravelling mystery, Untwisting falsehood, Enlightening knowledge.

Shadow has no place to hide from light;

Darkness loves the corners hidden. 

Nightmares, Souls which quake, Fear Whispers, 

Gloomy, Depressing, 

Darkness.

—-

Dark, 

Twilight falling, Shaded sky, 

Creeps in Shadow, Blackening, Opaqueness.

Not a breath of light or air to spare in life;

Darkness in death, leads to despair without hope. 

Taking Cover, Teasing Fate, Testing Boundaries.

The End, Fini, 

Death.

—-

Death,

Scythe wielded, Bones rattling,

Soul gone, Decaying body, Empty shell.

The dead will rise at the end of days;

But until then, those of light stay in rays. 

Breath of freshest air,  No worries, No sorrow,

Peace, Promise Kept, 

Heaven.

—–

Fire,

Blazing inferno, Uncontrollable, 

Crisp hearts, Burnt hands, Wild fire’s agony.

Fire cooks our food, the first discovery of man;

But fire too, is life and rebirth; death is not the end.

Renewing life, Forest regrowing, Animals returning,

Hopeful for, Breath of —

Life. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Travel, Writing

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: Off Her Feet


Thank you to Nortina from the blog Lovely Curses for hosting this prompt. This Monday’s moral is: “Blood is thicker then water.”

—–

 

http://www.themominmemd.com
 

——

“Come on Arryn. This is our annual vacation since we’ve been eighteen-years-old. You have to come to Phoenix.” Harley begged.

Arryn loved golfing, drinking beer, and the various sport’s games he and Harley usually attended on their trips. But Lisa was eight-months pregnant and Arryn wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone all day. The Doctor said Lisa should stay off her feet and Lisa seemed to ignore this particular instruction.

“Harley,” Arryn said, “I think this isn’t the best time for a holiday.” Harley scoffed. “I knew you would back-out. Lisa isn’t dying, she’s pregnant.”

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Wrapped Refrain, Writing

Poem: Wrapped Refrain – “Words on the Stairway ” 


 

http://www.alexmulder.eu
 
——

Back to my favourite rhymes I go,

Keep the rhythm quick as we flow,

Appeares that writing voice is back,

No need now for all your life hacks,

The refrain encapsulates vision, souring high.

The grandest place to thrive, creativity cries.

—–

Incased in suits, all bullet proof.

Meaning of powersuit, not aloof.

Fluttering new wings of glory,

Touching heaven, sparks gold stories.

Raining down vocabulary, feeling prose.

Writing anyways in poems, how this writer’s mind grows.

Round in circles, form graceful dances ever-glowing.

——

Phoenix rising, as he spins.

Diving down, prey on fish with fins.

Consuming all the rhymes precision.

No one can claim indecision,

Choose the words, that force you far into a whirlpool.

Round you’ve spun, twirling; time granted swirling jewels.

——

Another verse rises, ascending,

Riding stairways, crescendoing.

Flying the stairway to heaven,

Lyrics, mana, and nectar; times seven.

Wings of angels, spirits, enchant; singing —

Back to my favourite anthem of life, song ringing.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Health, My Thoughts, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

A Late Night’s Tale: Memories of What Was


  
 You can let yourself be stressed out and take everything upon yourself. You can force yourself to do too much when you know that you should stop. You don’t think “me” time is needed; you think it’s a bit selfish. Then you break, you shatter. The person you become is not someone you recognize. It is you at rock bottom and you wonder if there is a method of putting yourself back together. You wonder if you can ever be whole again. Because right now you are empty. The busyiness and fast rhythm of time ticking  can never be stilled. You were never told to be careful, to slow down.

 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
You ignored the signs that things weren’t right. You thought maybe you had a bad flu or ongoing cold. You thought a trip to the medicenter would make it all better. That you could put band-aids over the ever widening crack in your persona. You thought you could hide behind laughs, smiles, and declarations that you were feeling terrific. You never said how tired you were, how you lay awake at night. How this ‘thing’ started to creep up on you until it owned you and had you shuddering and suffering, bracing for impact. Your breath was shallow, you were lost beneath the pain. You became your pain and the torture of what you had become ate at your insides so that you wouldn’t eat; you weren’t interested. You thought it would make it easier on everyone if you would fade away. You suffered. No one is able to handle suffering at first but you grew used to it. You entertained suffering in the drawing room of your mind over endless cups of tea. Your world was a dark dank prison that you couldn’t escape. You wished for light to rain on you but all you got was a few cinders of fire. You became angry, blamed God, blamed the world, blamed your parents for giving you such genes, for your existence. And when you were at the deepest and most pitifullness of your trial you saw a candle in the window of your soul and held your frost bitten hands to the flame and began to soak in the warmth.

 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
You lit more candles. You felt the heat rise through your limbs and pierce the empty places you had inside of you. You began to morph into a creature you scarce dreamed you could be. You changed, slowly, and methodically. It was a process but soon the darkness became twilight and you knew the worst was over. These were waters you could swim in now. The shore was close at hand, and landing on the beach you cried tears of joy. Your frail body was regaining strength and mobility. Your tortured mind became clear and your thoughts became peaceful and you smiled for the first time in ages. The sun came up that day, and didn’t go down. It was a special day. You had recovered yourself and found in your suffering that you were stronger then you knew. Strength was in your heart and soul. You were fortified and built up. And the next time you fell, you got back up. You didn’t let yourself get sucked down into the prison you left alive. You didn’t let your life become over run thinking there was always something you had to do and couldn’t miss. You learned to cope and learned what you were missing wasn’t as good as you thought it would be. You made choices for the better. You lived to tell your tale; others do not.

 

http://www.pinterest.com
 
——

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved. 

Free Verse, My Thoughts, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Writing

Poem: “Rise Above It All”


 

http://www.gailbrenner.com
 
Fire and frost, polar opposites it seems. One scorches earth, the other freezes everything. Nothing rises up from ice, it keeps what is frozen hostage.

But like a Phoenix rises from a pile of embers and ash, people rise above the flame.They live and breathe to inhale tomorrow’s life.

And what of our scorched remains? We scatter our dead upon open seas, in graveyards, and they sit on the mantles above the fireplace.

When I die scatter me in the wind, of somewhere mythical and gorgeouse. Scatter my ashes in Edan; for a moment maybe the angel guardian will let you in. 

For that angel, holds a sword with fire eternally. Perhaps, he’ll recognize a twin flame, a Phoenix, rebuilding, as you scatter me softly. 

Maybe he is entranced by fire like you. Fire burns and hurts; a cool glass of water will quench an unbearable thirst. And turned to ice, water will make you unmovable at absolute zero. 

But fire can burn through ice. It melts what is solid and still; let the rising of the firey bird begin. No ice will keep her captive. She is a survivor, the mistress of the flame. 

She might burn you with her, but she’ll bring you back to life.When you wander streets in daylight and when you are at your absolute worst – you can rise out of the ashes.

You can be a Phoenix too, atleast in human terms. What bird once destroyed, is reborn in mythical elegance? If the Phoenix teaches you anything,  let it be — always rise above it all. 

When everything is darkest, you are at your best– a Phoenix bursting into flame will light the path your footsteps should reflect. 

And when the light grows dimmer and ashes are so still, let them lye. The Phoenix is not like us, her ashes need not be scattered. 

She will arise a Queen undefined and undefiled. She is the victor of the battle in Hades. She rises and breaks through, she forges, and she fights.

She is a mythical powerful and glorific bird, red as the fire in which she burns. She overcomes and lives always, to rise above it all. 

May you be like a Phoenix, don’t let life pull you down.May you rise out of the ashes of life an unquenchable fire.

Give everything your all; strengthen your character with wisdom. Learn to battle and to pick your fights for the Phoenix is always reborn; you die once.

And like anyone rich or poor you will end up in a box or urn. So, scatter me, scatter you, to the wind so we may burn and be reborn on the flights of rain, embers in a drop; a miracle formed. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved. 

Event, My Thoughts

The Story Of Our Lives: Everything is Right, Then Everything Is Wrong


It has been awhile since I have given you an update on my life. My theme today is my title ” The Story of Our Lives: Everything is Right, Then Everything Is Wrong ” which could have simply said It is impossible for any of us to maintain balance in our lives for a length of time. Life is a series of highs and lows or as John Milton in Paradise Lost might have said: in life we move between despair and overindulgence. Or in other terms, life is like being bipolar your either depressed – as low as you can go, or way high up – having too much of a good time, abusing your limits; there is no or it is difficult to maintain that happy medium in life.

I am so sure, am still so sure that I am met to be a writer in this life, that I have more training left to do as a writer. I have been so sure of few things. But now 2 not 1 obstacles lie in the way of my goal to take an online Masters in Creative Writing at UBC. The first is and has always been getting myself into a program that only accepts 25% of it’s applicants and is a one of a kind program online, especially for non fiction in North America. That did not seem like it was such a large obstacle but the largest impediment to me doing my Masters is me and how I have dealt with my money situation.

I make a limited income on disability and now I will make an even more limited one because every month for the next 5 years I have to pay off my loan to pay off my credit cards. I had to get my parent’s to co-sign on the loan because I had no collateral too. I have tried to gain control of my financial situation before but I have failed twice and this time I cannot fail. It will be hard staying on a budget and being well poor for 5 years but I need to learn. Even harder, is the fact that I cannot just get a better job or another job to pay my debts. What is actually quite a small debt for others, to me is a very large debt being in my financial and health situation. It is doubtful that anytime soon, I will earn more than I get on disability. What is worse, I cannot afford to do my Masters even with scholarships I would be getting and not doing what I know I am meant to be doing really tares me up.

I have not quite acquainted myself with the truth of the situation, that I will only be able to take courses in writing, art, or whatever at the U of A’s Faculty of Extension because $100 a month is all I can afford to save, to save to do something in the week – take one course. I am tossing around the idea of taking writing and editing courses. I could take more creative writing courses but there is no certificate available in that area as I wish there was. Another option for me is to take a fine arts certificate, I have always wanted to do that. I could draw or paint, most likely draw I think because I have 2 courses towards that area, but I really just want to write. This will give me 5 years to develop my writing more I tell myself, you don’t need a masters to be a good writer, but the contacts I would have made and the things I would have learned would have been invaluable! So one day hopefully, I will take that Masters but not soon. It is a moment of despair for me but like any Phoenix, I must rise from my ashes. Cliche but true.

So I am a bit lost right now. I am playing the waiting game, what direction God do you want me to move in? To what will be my next purpose? I don’t know I just know I have to keep a tight budget. I have to do something with my time and that something must have a goal or a purpose. I have to find other ways to keep busy besides shopping online, and lose weight other ways besides expensive weight loss centers. Life is shadowed for me right now. But I know in time my path will be revealed ‘Thy Word Is A Lamp Unto My Feet, and A Light Onto My Path?’ I have spoken about this before, walking through darkness only being able to see a footstep in front of you. Following even though you do not know where life is going. It’s such a hard thing to do and it is necessary to find balance even though I cannot maintain that balance long; balance in life is key.

20130616-140510.jpg