#NaPoWriMo Day 10/Photo Challenge: “Rabbit’s Play” #amwriting #poetry #photochallenge #MLMM


For Day 10 NaPoWriMo the Prompt is: to ” write a poem of simultaneity – in which multiple things are happing at once.” Also, thanks to NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie.


Credit: Alpha Coders


You locked the door shut;

I threw away the key.

Door slamming, the house shook,

It wasn’t rejection —

Claws of tiger digging,

It wasn’t the ache spiralling,

A corkscrew in my clavicle.

It wasn’t fatigue,

The floating leaves crackling,

Fall’s sudden chill,

Winter’s stark sting.

Words uninviting,

But a spade is a spade;

Your kindness a shark,

Large teeth, tail flicking.

Lies the black stripes,

Safari orange fur —

Mangled with spite,

Hidden behind decency.

The beast maimed;

Honesty infringed.

No intelligible motives,

As teeth rip to shreds.

But she set herself up,

And a spade is a spade.

The true queen reigns,

Not in dungeon’s keep.

The lady in red,

On her pedestal;

Floats and crackles,

Autumn’s crisp maple leaves,

Ragged and torn.

You’re better than that?

But he’s not.

Obese — vile words,

A tiger disgusted.

A question —

I crept into the den,

He was offended,

And I was prey,

Amusing —

With no matter.

His last words, claw cuts–

Sinking inside deep,

Where my stomach turns.

The ruby sun rose,

Blood flowed and flowed.

All because I have no control —

Because I was not born,

Demure and petite;

He spurned my art,

Thus, spurned my chest.

Three-years younger,

He’s thirteen years too young —

Inside.

But I bated the beast,

Naturally, his teeth revealed.

Tiger perplexed,

Slinking back to the den.

His side gapes,

Licking his wounds;

No winning against him,

In this game —

Not his type.

Inside his ribs,

Fat where is soul should be —

Deceit.

He thinks he knows,

But he can’t envision.

He has judged,

Growling a retort.

She laughs,

The rabbit slips away.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Sunday Photo Fiction: A Touch Too Mad #amwriting #Wonderland #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF on August 27, 2017

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Credit: Dawn M. Miller

——-

“What’s this new game we’re playing?” Alice brushed back her hair. 

“You’re all out here with teacups balanced on chair legs. What’s going on?”

The White Rabbit checked his pocket watch. “It’s time for tea, right now.”

The March Hare laughed, “Such an interesting game. Good thing the Door Mouse is on hiding in a teapot.”

Alice stomped her foot.”Really, explain yourselves!” 

She heard a maniacal laugh. “Oh, Hatter. There you are. I was getting worried.”

The Mad Hatter bowed, “Yes, my girl, you’re right on time. Now where is your pistol?”

“Pistol? I’m twelve! What do I need a pistol  for?”

“To shoot the teacups and what’s inside them,” said the March Hare.

“This is even crazy for you guys. Wait! What’s inside them?”

The Hatter removed his favorite silk hat. “Oh, you’ll love it! We shrunk them down, put a drop in their tea.”

“What have you done, Hatter? Rabbit, you need to tell me immediately.”

The White Rabbit removed his pocket watch and vest. “We shrank the cards, three hearts, of course.”

The Mad Hatter laughed, “The best part isn’t the cards it’s the Queen.”

“The Queen of hearts?”

“Yes, Alice,” said Hatter. “Do you know what cup she’s in?”

Alice’s eyes grew round. She cringed as the March Hare took his first shot missing. Then the Mad Hatter shot his pistol shattering a tea cup. 

He handed Alice his pistol.”Here you are now. Only two cups left and a fifty- fifty chance you’ll hit the queen.”

Her face went white. Alice starred into the Mad Hatter’s crazed eyes and swallowed. 

When did Wonderland become so insane? 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Collage Prompt: Cascading Etherees – “The Light Keeps Burning” #amwriting #poetry #stories 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Collage Prompt.  

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Credit: Window- Andrey Bobir: Fruit Center: Kevin Sloan: Woman- Christian Schloe

———

I’m a story, my life overarching,

Tale that tells of my unique journey. 

Places I’ve travelled, things I’ve seen,

Until the day comes and these —

Memories imprint, 

Silt, dust, and smoke. 

Characters lost, 

Not even, 

To be, 

Known. 

—–

Gone,

Can’t be! 

Actions done, 

Wild nights, regret;

My authentic talents,

And a muse who knows, 

Histories repeated —

Memories of pen and ink. 

Thoughts hidden, lock and key, they close. 

Masking the truth of such characters, 

Building worlds through words, disconnected. 

——-

Sly as a fox, I’ve learned fruitful ways. 

These days go by, can’t halt the clock’s tick,

Don’t forget time’s ever so short. 

Juices dribbling down small chins,

Organic pears sweet with —

Raspberries too. 

Spiritually, 
Ripe fruit ate, 

Becomes soul —

Food that —

Heals. 

—–

Just, 

As Tales, 

Brilliant and — 

Warm soothe the heart, 

But reality —

Doldrums work to dull minds. 

An anasethic addictive, 

Sickness in body, soul, and heart. 

Too much berries here for birds who —

Wobble discordently drunk, stagnant. 

—-

Become a person who finds windows when, 

All doors are shut, locked up tightly. 

Find your dreams, your goals define them, 

Persevere, strive in —

Life as it happens; too —

Fast for my liking! 

Absorb moments,

Choose to, 

Live. 

——-

No,

Matter,

That we will, 

Be forgotten,

As stories or part,

Of nastolgies devised.  

Obscurity as time —

Moves as the rabbit with his —

Pocket watch; we’re perpetually late; 

Wherever we end; hope it’s paradise.

——

One where we dwell on stories of truth, 

Body’s age, decay; but our gifts stay. 

Forever they are our tasks.

Someday we each face ends.

As Dylan desperate wrote, 

Of the light’s dying, 

Don’t fear for it; light’s

Forever, 

Guiding 

Home.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 



Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: The Weeping Willow and The Rabbit #amwriting #flashfiction #talltales


Thanks to Bastet for hosting Saturday Mix on MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. Today’s theme is ‘Tall Tales.’ 

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Credit: GSK 16

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The sky was falling in large drops of blue glass. The weeping willow was the first to notice so she cried. Her tears gathered creating a river with the drops from the sky. 

A mighty rabbit hopped by, he was a bit confused as to where all this water was coming from. 

“Ms. Willow why are you crying a river?” he asked. 

“I’m a weeping willow and the sky is falling haven’t you noticed?” 

The rabbit nodded, “Well yes of course it falls. Each time it rains, snows, or hails, the sky falls.” 

“You need to stop crying. You’re going to drown everyone in your tears. I’m the  king of all animals, you better listen to me.” 

“Why?” 

“My friend is a massive blue ox named Babe. His friend named Paul chops down trees for a living.” 

The willow immediately stopped weeping and the rabbit’s triumphant roar was heard throughout the forest. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Hiking the Hill


I wish you were here at the top of the hill, where the sunset gleams on boulders and rocks.

This place that we hiked to is far out of the way, there’s not a soul for miles either way.

So, we sweated and breathed in the humid air, yet we kept on walking through heat and sunshine shower.

You fell once as we stepped over circles or rocks and forest debris, you may have twisted your ankle,

But you continued just the same, and we both kept on going though you limped as we strode.

The wood was alive with the smell of pine, and a rabbit just stopped to stare at us hiking.

We were panting and dirty and there was a moment or two, I thought we’d have trouble with a little brown bear.

When we reached the hills summit, we looked down below, the great hill (a mountain) was glowing in sunset.

We camped for a day or two, you hated that the most, rocky hills are not places for sleeping your best.

And stiff and stumbling we came back down the hill, many hundred pictures, and aches and pains later.

The hill is a memory, that I fondly look upon, the time that I spent with you, now that your gone.

Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers – Nikki


Nikki shoots down the trail intent on the trail of a rabbit. She will never catch it but in her mind the rabbit is invading our territory. When she finally realizes she will not catch it Nikki stops and starts sniffing around. She stops to smell a tree or two then makes her way down the off leash trail hoping to make her way down by the river to  some beavers. I hear the slapping of tails against water and call her back ” here Nikki.”

She comes running at me like lightening as I am crouched down and I quickly stand up as she jumps at me in a full-out bound. Her nails scratch she tries to lick me and then she dissolves into thin air. I watch the off leash trail hoping she’ll be there, that she’ll return. It’s a lost hope but I can’t help it. She’s been gone a year almost now and walking by myself just isn’t the same as walking with her.