Notable Quotes March 2017 Part Two #quotes #pinterest


Hi hope you’re all having great March. Almost St. Patrick’s Day, green beer anyone? 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Writing Prompt: Poem – Villanelle – “Becoming ‘The Angel In The House’.” #amwriting #poetry #victorianera 


Thank you to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Villanelle writing prompt this week.

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Credit: http://www.webexhibits.org – Italian School, The Rustic Concert, The Song

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Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn,

We’re here to fill our minds, wonder blooming. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned.

Oh what problems will we learn to discern? 

Reading, poise, religion; house ‘angels’ singing, 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn. 

How should we serve tea? Keep house, give birth, turn —

On those not good enough? Not with us ranking. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned. 

Should our daughters be haughty and learn —

Their goal (as ours), to marry well praying, 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn.

Are we moral centers? Ignoring sperns, 

Spouse with many beds, mistresses stringing. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned. 

Our value, our husband, children, in turn —

Their children, their marriages bliss bringing? 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn, 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned.

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Credit: Crosscurrents Writing Gender – Quote from Virginia Woolf
 

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Villanelle

A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme: aba aba aba aba aba abaa.
The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).”

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Prayer for the Small Things” #amwriting #poetry #prayer


Credit: Saatchi Art – Thank God For Women Legs by Thomas Saliot

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Oh Lord, thank God for the small things, 

The words and acts of kindness, 

Which help me through the day.

Thank God for the small things, 

Each day I’m fed, 

I’ve many clothes to wear.

Thank you that I too can be generous

That you gave me a Mother who taught —

Her daughter to be thoughtful, 

So I wouldn’t think only of myself. 

And even when I’m hurt and crying

I can see a silver lining in that cloud. 

*****

Lord, thank you for the small things, 

A life I’m given to live

No matter how battered or bruised

You’re my armour and you never leave. 

Your champions wage

Though the whirlpool may swallow;

You bring us through to the other side. 

New blessings each day, 

More than we need or want, or deserve

Thank you for the small things. 

For earnings, for caring friends, 

For a heart that doesn’t break when it’s bent

Thank you for love; however, small it was, 

For those who hurt me, 

So I knew then, what forgiveness was. 

*****

Lord, oh for the small things, 

That kindness could be formed in me, 

To kill the badness, the jealousy

Thank you for keeping him safe, 

For him not being my guy, 

Though I pray for him still, 

You keep him secure, alive —

I pray you give him faith

And draw us both close to you. 

*****

Thank you my almost love, 

Is not in the big picture. 

I hope he sees his wealth, 

His privilege comes, 

Not only with acts of goodness

But faith in God, in Jesus —

From his heart

If I see him again —

Help me to not turn away but to repair

So much is your power, 

You could change a man’s mind. 

Help him see he is lost in the law, 

He needs your grace to believe

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Thank you Lord, for the small things, 

My family, my friends, those I detest. 

My lost pets, my forgotten foes. 

Every man I felt something special for,

For the ones who hurt me deep and cut in;

I didn’t bleed out and die inside. 

I moved on, survived

I’m doing okay. 

*****

Thank you I was born in this day and age

Not one-hundred something years ago or more. 

For medical advances, social programs, 

And people more understanding, 

At least I hope

Thank you that one day, I’ll see you face to face,
Thank you Lord, for the small things, 

For to me they’re very big.

My prayer I give and keep in my heart

For your omniscient presence, 

For your healing,

Oh Lord, I ask and give thanks. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – English Sonnet – “Desolation Of The Flames” #poetry #flashfiction #amwriting #music


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

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My teary eyes on the buildings below, 

Keeping careful watch o’r those homeless souls.

And since the sky is filled with fire and with smoke.

Praying, keep careful watch o’r forlorn folk.

If we die in fire, keep us together, 

Flames swirling higher, stairs filled with smoke, soon –

Rising farther into the night sky bright, 

Watch flames burn stronger, apartment alight. 

I see fire, fire in our whole home; Such fire

I can’t even breathe; I see fire, can’t respire.

There’s fire hollows my soul, blood curdling free, 

All smoke, no breeze, hope they’ll remember me. 

And if we should die tonight, we’ll both burn, 

Raise glasses of wine, ’till we don’t feel spurned. 

Calling Lord Father, prepare us as thee will, 

Watch the flames burn our home, neighbours heard scream. 

Confined in building blocks, enclosed, we’re remains

No fireman came, desolation it stays

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Based off the lyrics by Ed Sheeran’s song “Fire” from The Hobbit movies. I played with the lyrics for this prompt. 

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“Fire” – Ed Sheeran 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Photo Challenge: Petrarchen Sonnet – “When Autumn Falls” #taleweaver #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this prompt on the changing of seasons into Fall and how it influences our thinking.

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Credit: Mara Eastern with permission.

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Leaves begin to change, butterscotch yellow, 

The reds and oranges blaze into being.

I’ve even seen dark purple plum seeming, 

To alter green from summers pleasant glow.

Sunlight fades to shorter nights, cold wind blows.

Shorts and sandals packed, sadly left dreaming.

Of gorgeous nights spent breathing warmth, now seeing —

Prayers streaming to God, please yet keep the snow. 

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Favourite season, feel comfortable walking, 

Strewn leaves, scented decay and pleased —

On the porch still sipping wine and talking.

No sunburns now, most loved fashion season, 

Fancy boots and shoes; snow please stop stalking. 

Always unwanted, snow comes, lace knocking.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Lauranelle -“Living the Story”



 Please Listen Below: 


The story of our lives, it’s never over,

Until we breathe our last, we keep building.

Transitions experienced, life a changeover.


Loved ones grow, develop; our lives overfilling,

Hoping you experience, best of times; your story,

Ever-glowing, phenomenon thrilling.


Praying your lives keep moving, with pose; glory.

Even in the darkest times, search for light.

Live through each of life’s interesting short stories.


In the long road run, your epic takes flight.

No, life is not one or two, short stories formed.

Life the story, keeps changing; keep fighting.


At times, you must overcome frightening storms,

You must battle through blood; strike through the gore.

But there’s reasons you’re you, why you were born.


Lessons to be learned; experience fought for.

Life means continually rebuilding.

Worry not, when you fall; God rescues you before —


The waves pull you out, and drown you in salt —

Water takes away; it gives too, no fault.

The story of our lives, it’s never over,

Until we breathe our last, we keep building.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Free Verse – “The Battle Infinite” 


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Demons dreaming, 

Surround me as I wake;
Oh give me serenity, 
Nightmares creep and ache.

Falling from a mind overwhelmed, 

By imagination on overdrive;

Let my mind be at peace,

Let the demons finally cease.

No understanding have I, 

Why the demons we slaughter,

Are always the same sin.

I defeated you before, 

But you come back for more;

The snake, loathsome reptile,

From Eden you did break.

Losing tiny snake legs, 

To strike a woman’s heel.

How dare you come back, 

To bring me down again.

I pray you keep your distance;

You keep moving closer.

Claustrophobia, panic, 

Praying you don’t turn me to granite;

Pulling out my weapons, 

I’ll battle Medusa harder still.

You can see the braided,

 Depths of my scars;

We know each other well old foe, 

But I won’t go down pleading;

I have light in my armour, 

Not the kind which normal snakes like;

The kind which burns,

Makes snakes writhe for life.

Pain will be your only friend, 

Old foe; you fight the same.

Each and every time I return, 

I don’t know why I turned my back on you;

Those not weary do not see, 

The enemy coming up behind, 

A dagger piercing my back; my heart.

A knock to my head; concussions blind;

But I heal fast, and I heal stronger.

Building my muscles each movement,

I recover; blood may flow, 

And I hurt all the same;

What’s worse, I can’t blame you for all, 

I do this to myself.

Will you ever learn stupid girl?

When are you no longer a frightened child?

There are no excuses to justify my crimes;

I know what is right and yet, 

Time and again I find my foe and fight.

A battle with motions memorized, 

A continual siege; I win and lose.

Pound you into the ground, 

Poison you with your potent venom;

But you bounce back and reform, 

Taking on another sin,

To challenge me for awhile;

Making it sound excellent, 

That such a rest wouldn’t be exuberant.

If I’m smart I liquefy you;

Your blood and more stain the ground.

But since I’m human, 

I complicate the issues.

And there are days I pause, 

To be attacked and left weaponless, 

Filled with panic and worry, 

Wandering the valley as the poison seeps deep.

Only in the coming of dawn do I delight, 

Fortitude returns and I smile small, 

Learning my lesson, 

Time and time again.

Experience keeps teaching despite, 

A woman who continues to decide who she is;

Not knowing, not realizing, 

Life is a gory battle, no one escapes.

The scar tissue builds upon scars;

Wounds of war are often the worst, 

When we are not expecting them.

Pulling the dagger from my own back;

It’s a pain I hate to remember vividly.

But I got up;

And I walked on. 

Feeling the dawn heal me;

As I kept on the road.

To another traveller I might seem,

A terrified, desperate girl.

Yet more often I see the same look in another’s eyes;

The knowledge of heart break, repentance, and experience.

A cycle doomed to repeat until we’ve finally learned;

Bigger hands than ours must deal the blows.

Hands which hold,

Entirety of unknown and known universes;

Hands which cradle the world.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.  

Sunday Photo Fiction: She Looks Like Gollum


Thanks to Alistair Forbes the gracious host of SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

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“Wow Mom. Can we do this going back the other way?” Tyson pleaded.

“Yeah, Ty of course we can do the gondolas on the way back. How else would we go back down the mountain?” 

“We could walk?” Tyson suggested, shrugging.

” I think we should go to the museum about the mountain and town that used to be here. Then we can walk to a few look-out points, before taking take the gondola down.” Trish said.

She held Tyson’s baby sister in a snuggy. Trish peered down at tiny Dora. 

“Look who’s awake Tyson.” He made a face at Trish, regarding Dora with destain. 

“She’s ugly. I thought girls were supposed to be pretty; she could be Gollum.”

Trish swatted Tyson playfully. “Don’t call your sister Gollum.” He giggled. 

“She’ll grow into herself. You’ll be playing the role of her protective big brother in no time.”

Tyson laughed. “I think I’ll be protecting the boys from her…”

Suddenly, he felt the gondola fall. It haulted, hanging from half the original cable at an angle.

Dora was crying and Tyson was afraid. His arm hurt terribly and was at an odd angle. Tyson’s Mom kept repeating prayers, tears leaking from her eyes.

“I take it back Dora is pretty,” Tyson cried thinking his words had made God mad at him.  That had to be why is Mom was praying so much.

Ten minutes later a helicopter arrived saving Tyson and his family. Tyson was thrilled to be riding in a helicopter, even with a broken arm.

 He patted Dora’s head as she wriggled in the snuggy his Mom still wore.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Wrapped Refrain – ” Opportunity or Risk? “


 

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So difficult to accomplish,

No safety net, for a small wish,

Do or die; have to think about,

Worst case scenarios on my route,

Opportunity knocks, dare I open the door?

No where else to turn, if I end up on the floor.

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Not the same for you, you’ve a net,

When you draw, you still have safe bets, 

A job to turn to, and husband,

On me if I break; in abandon.

How can you understand my unique situation,

Can’t depend on health, keeping me situated.

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I’m feeling great doubt, I’m unsure.

I’ve only begun, can’t leap assured.

I have to see the ‘ins’ and ‘outs,’

Before I can tell you what I’m about.

Darkness lingers in my mind, pressure I cannot define.

You don’t know what it’s like in my shoes, undecided.

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A gigantic opportunity,

To pass up, is it lunacy?

Calculated risks are fine,

Tell me where to draw finite line.

If I can’t do this career, and I’m not that into sales.

You see differently, maybe I can help people sail.

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Find a better life, find their health,

To begin, I have little wealth.

I haven’t been planing to divert,

My path in this local –invert,

Thoughts moving, teetering in changed direction.

Choices not made easily, self-reflection.

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Don’t believe I have enough wage,

Writing, my dream of life changing.

Can’t make living off of dreaming,

But changing wheels, believing.

New thoughts, career movements could alter future path.

No security if I go off, what happens in depressions wrath?

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Bubbling thoughts in my mind,

Jets in whirlpool, the sucking kind,

How do I be cheerful often,

How to make my shell, crack, soften,

I’m scared I can’t do it; keep seeing my fail safe.

So difficult choosing, God guide your small waif.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Diamanté – “For Colleen, Five-Years Gone”


Diamente ———

Line 1: Noun or subject
Line 2: Two Adjectives describing the first noun/subject

Line 3: Three -ing words describing the first noun/subject

Line 4: Four words: two about the first noun/subject, two about the antonym/synonym

Line 5: Three -ing words about the antonym/synonym

Line 6: Two adjectives describing the antonym/synonym

Line 7: Antonym/synonym for the subject

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Thanks to A Reading Writer, Rosema my talented friend, for information on how to write a Diamanté. And my apologies, these are supposed to have a diamond shape, but I have no patience for that! Also, the picture isn’t Colleen, I just thought this woman was beautiful, and so was Colleen.

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http://www.mv1.dromghd.com

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 Energetic Woman,

 Beautiful, Vibrant,

 Forming, Endearing, Unfolding,

Helpful, Engaging, Miserable, Depressed

Bursting, Sobbing, Disappearing,

 Sick, Anxious,

 Tired Woman.

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Beloved Child.

Fond, Enchanting,

Living, Travelling, Teaching,

Beautiful, Unique, Self- Hating, Forlorn.

Ending it, Choosing, Dying,

Exhausted, Haunted,

Lost Child.

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Miserable Daughter,

Guilty, Confused,

Not Understanding, Not Knowing, Not Getting the Right Help,

Lost in Her Head, Stressed, Finding Peace, Forgiveness

Loving, Glowing, Comprehending in Heaven.

Serene, Tranquil,

Hope for Daughter.

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Blessed Mother,

One daughter, best-friends,

Laughing, Talking, Sharing,

Happiness, Remembering, Sadness, Grieving.

Crying, Missing, Wishing,

Thinking, Hoping to See Her One Day, 

Lost Mother.

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Talkative Father,

Advice Shared, Helpfully Wise,

Cherishing, Loving, Listening,

Memories, His Little Girl, Painfully, Mourned.

Grieving, Hurting, Reasoning,

Hope Filled, Praying,

Wondering Father.

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Discerning Grandma,

Wise, Experienced,

Thinking Back, Memorizing Moments, Praying.

Sturdy, Strong, Badily Hurt, Too Much Loss,

Tearing up, Remembering, Smiling,

Tough, Missing Granddaughter,

Heartbroken Grandma

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Children’s Mentor,

Teacher, Beautiful, 

Concerning, Demonstrating, Advice Giving.

Stylish, Classy, Covering Sadness, An Image.

Struggling, Breaking, Supporting.

Tears, Regret,

Mentor in Death.

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Woman passed on,

Missed, Not Forgotten,

Remembering, Laughing, Crying.

Magnetic, generous, Beyond Life, Loved.

Wondering, Praying, Inspiring,

Living-on, Saved By Grace,

Woman of Memory.

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©Mandibelle. (2016) All Rights Reserved.