Current Events, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Food/Recipes, Health, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

First Line Friday: Fiction – Robbed of Peanut Butter #amwriting #FirstLineFridays


Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Friday’s First Line Friday. You can look for my Friday Music Prompt tomorrow!


 

Peaunt Butter
Credit: Rosanna Davison Nutrition

His world had been comprised of hastily constructed philosophies, which upon close examination, had failed him and promptly collapsed. 

“Peanut butter,” he gasped moaning at the delicious taste of the product his mother had refused to feed him as a child. 

“How can you have not tasted Peanut butter, Charlie? You’re thirty-nine years old and have been living on your own for twenty years. Didn’t it ever occur to you buy it, just once, to see what it tasted like?”

Charlie looked at Dana his mouth a gap,”This is mind blowing. All my life I thought Peanut butter would kill me. My mother convinced me my throat would swell, that I would die on the floor gasping for air if I ate it. But I’m fine. I’ve been eating it all day and it hasn’t made me sick  or made me have trouble breathing. My mother was a liar!”

“She was just trying to protect you, Charlie. You did say she saw a kid die from being exposed to peanut butter when she was in school. It’s why they don’t allow it public schools. Your mom should have let you try a bit of Peanut butter first to see if your body reacted,” Dana remarked.

Charlie shook is head and sighed with pleasure. “I’m going to be eating Peanut butter for the rest of my days, for all those years I was robbed of it’s taste and smooth texture.”

Dana laughed,”Careful Charlie, there is a lot of calories in peanut butter. You don’t want to ruin your physique.”

“Who cares. I swear I’ll go to the gym if that happens.”


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts

Tale Weavers: Poem – The Blitz – “The Maiden and The Dragon” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt about a quest, such as the ones JRR Tolkien writes about in his famous books. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——-

Dragons are here, I know it

Dragons beware, my sword is sharp

Sharp as the knives hid on my body

Sharp as the tongue of my wife

Wife said, “Do not go” 

Wife begged, yet I went 

Went through the haunted forest dark 

Went through the storms, muck, and mire

Mire as quicksand, sucked in my body

Mire that almost swallowed my life

Life burnt a flaming hole so wide

Life’s flame would not flicker out

Out of the muck and mire pulled

Out of certain death to rescue a princess

Locked in a tower for my Lord, my King 

Locked in a tower and languishing

Languished she did for centuries

Languished as a spell had been cast

Cast, so she would always sleep

Cast, because evil always hates

Hates beauty and goodness

Hates who this princess is said to be 

Be afraid though, I warn you, friend 

Be vigilant in your task to save 

Saving the princess isn’t the challenge

Saving her, I wondered, where is the dragon? 

Dragon she rose from the depths of beauty 

Dragon was the the princess herself 

Herself screaming, “I am the dragon”

Herself shouting, “I will eat you whole” 

Wholly she transformed in that fiery beast

Wholly she was a scaled, sulphereous demon

Demon who cried, “I am no damsal in distress”

Demon who seethed, “I protect me” 

Me, I gazed upon the languishing beauty 

Me, my eyes met the dragons yellow-eyed stare

Stared into my soul, saw I was a ruin 

Stared into my heart, saw I was wretched

Wretched cursed princess, the dragon? 

Wretched as the princess waiting 

Waiting and no one came so she grew tired

Waiting as she wrecks her vengeance 

Vengeance because no hero is true 

Vengeance, she can depend only on herself, no heroes 

Hereo, the archetypal kind who abuse poor maidens

Heroe, is there such a man who ever existed? 

Existed a hero she once did love 

Existed her hero but he never came — she remains cursed 

Cursed though she be, I could not destroy the beast

Cursed, she knows not why she is punished, cursed. 

Beast but still a girl, so I left, ashamed I could not save her. 

Cursed, she lingers on my mind, the maiden, the dragon as one

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: A Chocolate Seduction #amwriting #flashfiction #100WordWednesday  


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting 100 Word Wednesdays. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl

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Sweet dark chocolate slides across my tongue, the richness of chocolate icing soft and creamy; the moist cake, competing for flavour with the icing. It’s sweetness allows one to eat it slowly. Too much cake at once would ruin the experience and leave me with an upset stomach. But each bite savoured with pleasure and a bit of vanilla ice cream, ensures my scrumptious chocolate cake is a heavenly experience. 

Across the table you wink, you knew it was my favourite cake and you ordered it for me. Our eyes hold as you eat your own cake and I absorb every ounce of chocolate flavour in mine; eating cake becomes seduction

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Writing

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Escaping Society #flashfiction #amwriting


Thanks to the lovely and gracious Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW this last week. 

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Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode
——
Violet read the letter her daughter had sent her in disbelief. To fathom a girl of Elizabeth’s quality of breeding would do this to her family was unimaginable

Harsh Victorian society could never know the truth of what Elizabeth had done and Violet wasn’t sure she could bear to keep in contact with her daughter.

She would focus on her other children. Violet’s sons had married well. Three of her daughters were also married suitably and having more children. Her two youngest daughters were courting wealthy gentlemen. 

Elizabeth if not cut-off from her family, could ruin them all. Violet reread part of her daughter’s letter once more in disgust: 

“Did you know Mama, there is such thing as a circus? Freaks of all kinds, but I love them because they’re genuine, not like the society you so desperately try to trap me in. Years of dance lessons have left me flexible. I pirouette far above the ground and dance in the air; I ride the elephants. 

It’s amazing travelling the world and I won’t be returning to London, except for an occasional visit of course. I’ve married one of the men who runs the circus. He is like me, gentry who has run away from a society of judgement. I love you and hope we can write, but I can’t be the woman you want me to be. . .” 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, La' Tuine - A, B, C, D -last lines all same rhyme for each stanza 9,8,9,8 syllables, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Writing

Photo Challenge: Poem – La’ Tuine – “Paint The Sky With Love”


Thanks to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie  for hosting this week’s Photo Challenge.


Paint the Sky
Source: Unknown

Paint the sky, it needs retouching soon.

For many ages, night tries killing moon.

Its her way, so you never feel safe; when —

Walking home, paint the sky with love.


Paint the moon herself; light needs less gloom,

Rid the clouds, which shape and form ruin.

Erase them; moon glows softly, romance blends,

Walking home, paint the sky with love.


Shape the moon, may she wax and wane soon,

Carve out her circle; flee now doom.

Dark clouds fading, artist’s rendering,

Walking home, paint the sky with love.


There is a whisper of dawn, orange looms,

But still the night enfolds us in gloom.

Night is long hours, be not so scared; when —

Walking home, paint the sky with love.


Such noises I heard, frightening booms,

Lightening crashed, and didn’t end soon,

I waited it out, dreamt of morn’s blooms,

Walking home, paint the sky with love.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Minute - 8,4,4,4 aabb ccdd eeff, My Thoughts, Poetry

Poem: Minute Poem- “Histarically.”  


So, I decide I want in on some of the poetry forms I’ve seen some bloggers doing. This form and description are from Annie on What the Woman Wrote and you can also check out Shadow Poetry here.

Minute Poem: a rhyming verse form, 12 lines of 60 syllables written in strict iambic meter. Formatted into 3 stanzas of 8-4-4-4 syllables each. Rhyme scheme: aabb, ccdd, eeff. Best suited to light verse – humorous, whimsical, or semi-serious. 

 

www. galmeetsglam.com
 
I hate that you won’t wait to see,

All that is me, 

All that I dream,

The way I seem.

We’re going at a speed I can’t chance,

It’s not a dance,

This is real life,

Why leave me strife. 

I want to dream fantastically, 

Histarically, 

Is it a ruin?

Live in light strewn. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction, Music and Performers, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Literary Lion: House of the Rising Sun and Comments


The House Of The Rising Sun – The Animals (And Comments)

gambling picture
http://www.minddisorders.com Gambling

 

There is a house in New Orleans
(I live in Las Vegas actually)
They call the Rising Sun
(It’s called Caesar’s  Palace)
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
(Yes, many men have lost their money here)
And God, I knows I’m one

(But not me, not today).

My mother was a tailor

(My mother she’s an accountant).
She sewed my new blue jeans
(We bought my jeans from wherever I wanted them from).
My father was a gamblin’ man
(My Dad likes to gamble so my Mom controls the money).
Down in New Orleans
( Down in Las Vegas)
Now the only thing a gambler needs
( I don’t need much when I’m here)
Is a suitcase and trunk
( Just free drinks and some red chips)
And the only time he’s satisfied
(I swear I’m satisfied, but maybe just one more try at Black Jack)
Is when he’s on a drunk

( Nothing wrong with a few drinks).

[Organ Solo]

Oh mother, tell your children

(Well maybe, I spend too much time here and you shouldn’t let your children do the same)
Not to do what I have done
(Maybe tell them to get a real job and not to gamble your life away)
Spend your lives in sin and misery
(Everyday I am here; I pay for my sins, and I’m miserable because I can never win enough).
In the House of the Rising Sun

( At any hotel casino down the strip or downtown).

Well, I got one foot on the platform

( I managed to leave Las Vegas for awhile but now I’m waiting at the airport)
The other foot on the train
( I’m walking onto the plane)
I’m goin’ back to New Orleans
(I’m goin’ back to Las Vegas)
To wear that ball and chain

( I can’t stay away, the chips are calling my name)

Well, there is a house in New Orleans

( There is a place in Las Vegas)
They call the Rising Sun
( It’s called Caesar’s Palace)
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
( It’s ruined my life, I’m always there or going back)
And God, I know I’m one
(Yes, God know’s my life is ruined by my gambling addiction)
 
 
House of The Rising Sun Music Video
 
 
 
 
 
Thanks to I Smith Words for the prompt gamble.
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 ©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.