Fiction, Flash Fiction, Food/Recipes, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Sunday Photo Fiction, Triolet - ABaAabAB - 1,4,7 repeat and 2,8 repeat., Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 27 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/SPF: Poem – Triolet – “Taste of Spring” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is a “challenge . . . to write a poem that explores your sense of taste! This could be a poem about food, or wine, or even the oddly metallic sensation of a snowflake on your tongue.” Also thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. For the A to Z Challenge, today’s GoodRead’s letter is the letter X. 


SPF Tree, Vines
Credit: John Brand

“I could recognise his soul in mine as much as he could find me in his. Our sole existences seemed to have been for this very moment when nothing else mattered.” X. Williamson (Distract My Hunger)


They air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung,

Lilacs on my lips, flavor of crisp leaves.

In the garden, scent of spring on my tongue.

The air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung.

Inhaling soft florals, fragrance in my lungs.

Breathing in and out, tastes chase what I’m grieving.

The air outside was warm, the taste of spring sprung,

Lilacs on my lips, flavor of crisp leaves.


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

 Day 24 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/100 Word Wednesday: Poem – Free Verse – “Art of a Story and Death” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #100WordWednesday #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting last week’s #100WordWednesday flashfiction prompt. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is “to write a poem of ekphrasis — that is, a poem inspired by a work of art.” The A to Z Challenge GoodRead’s Prompt begins with the letter U. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl – Her Photograph and work of art for the prompt 🙂

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To write is to forget. Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life. Music soothes, the visual arts exhilarates, the performing arts (such as acting and dance) entertain. Literature, however, retreats from life by turning in into slumber. The other arts make no such retreat— some because they use visible and hence vital formulas, others because they live from human life itself. 

― Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet”

(Sorry finding a Q name for this piece impossible but there is Q in Disquiet!)

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The photograph is lovely at first, 

A brilliant blue sky, soft winds of cool breezes, 

The Atlantic still icy, but forgiving. 

Trees rise and guard the home, the lighthouse, 

Ancient ones in slumber as spring yet approaches. 

Rock walls prevent a fall below, to the unforgiving chill. 

Hypothermia comes quickly here, 

But the scenery makes up for the inherent danger. 

Bright pink of the house stands out and the tower above matches, 

Glows in the night when the boats pass by, 

Protecting and guiding ships. 

The long grass still waiting to be verdent, 

Not dry crumpled straw. 

And the owners of the house are silent, keeping to themselves, 

Their only sense of existing, is the light that glares, when outside the tower is dark. 

Spring is slowly birthing, but the ocean’s still freezing, 

And the danger is too real for ships too close.  

And a stranger walking watches from the dim, 

Holding back a dog barking in madness. 

The bulb has burnt out, now disaster is unhinged, 

The ship clips the cliff, the house crumbles and the ship sinks, 

Screams in the night, in the Atlantic’ waters cold numbness. 

And when all is said and done, only the lighthouse stands, 

With a burnt out bulb of fault. 

How can this photograph be a work of art? 

Is there art in dying? 

Or is art and death as a perception, to ambigious to be real? 

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©Mandibelle16. 2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Lists, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing

Notable Quotes April 2017 Part One #pinterest #quotes #books 


Happy April! Here are some more quotes. I think you’ll like them, they’re book quotes again for the most part 🙂

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14.

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15.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quatrains – “Tale of The Floating Bride” #poetry #amwriting 


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

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Credit: Zhangjinga.com

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Enchanting child in slumber keep, 

Red hair surrounds you as you sleep. 

I wait for you to wake from your dreams, 

No longer a porcelain doll preened. 

*****

A wedding gown white lace so frothy, 

Mother hoped your match was lofty.

That you’d found your life partner, 

Your prince, your man, for life to start.

*****

But day by day you grew sad, 

When pressed with his kisses ran. 

Empty feeling inside you grew, 

Like a butterfly away flew.

*****

Mischievous child, pain grew, 

His fist at your face straight-on flew. 

Hiding the bruises with powder,

Not even concealer shrouds

*****

Pride vital to you, tiny doll, 
Escaped; no one to catch your fall.
Fly in dreams with delicate wings, 

Winter ends, it’s soon your spring. 

*****

Gather your courage –call it off;

Don’t marry him, don’t be soft.

In front of the crowd, show each cut, 

Let them see bruises, you must. 

*****

So they know an abuser, 

Isn’t good enough, he’s a loser. 

He broke your velvet wings, 

Your sanity held by strings. 

*****

But it was too late even then, 

The lake too close; so your end.

Now you float, butterfly who swims, 

Eternity of light your win. 

*****

We tried to save a doll of glass, 

But on death she shattered, passed. 

Down below the water’s dark depth,

She’s tranquil, free; although, she leapt. 

*****

Mind too distorted, destroyed, 

Lover’s hands threw her like a toy.

World tough; his madness changed them both, 

In Heaven she smiles free to float. 

*****

He mourns her death each day, each drink, 

Pretty soon his rage him too sinks. 

Accidents happen to the unaware, 

She pulled him in, drowned his despair. 

—– 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: An Evil Chalice #amwriting #fiction #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

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Timo and Erica had been stranded in the desert when their small plane crashed near Cairo. Sunburnt, exhausted, and thirsty, they were shocked to see an Oasis. 

“An Oasis Timo, we’re saved. There’s water and even a chalice to drink from,” Erica yelled. 

“You’re seeing things Erica, there’s no water and no chalice.” 

Really look, it’s only a few steps away — we’re here,” Erica said rushing forward to drink from a beautiful pale blue spring; however, whenever she tried to cup the spring water with her hands, it slide away. 

“It won’t let me drink and I’m half-dead,” she cried. 

Timo rubbed his eyes, finally believing the blue spring underneath a palm tree existed. A chalice made with a human skull sat in the middle of a stone alter as well. It gave him a feeling of dread. 

“Erica, to drink the water you need the chalice but don’t do it. There’s something terrifying and evil about this cup.” 

She turned to Timo, giving him a dark stare, “I’ll drink from the chalice if I want.” Erica strode to the alter, bowed mockingly and lifted the chalice to kiss the skull on the mouth.

Timo grimaced as she scooped it into the water and drank. It was an Indiana Jones’ movie come to life as Erica’s life force was sucked from her body which disintegrated until she was dust. 

He decide to try drinking from the spring without the chalice. Timo drank all the water he could then sat down beneath the large palm tree in the shade. He wondered why cupping his hands worked for him and not for poor Erica as he drifted asleep.

When he awoke, Timo heard the blessed noise of rescuers in the distance and hollered for help. To his amazement the Oasis had disappeared along with the chalice. 

He contemplated what he should say happened to Erica as no one would believe the truth. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

One-Hundred-Word Wednesday: Winter Comes #amwriting #nonfiction #100wordwednesdays 


Thanks to Bikurgirl for hosting One- Hundred – Word Wednesday. 

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Credit: Bikurgirl

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The frost on the grass is a warning; it heralds winter’s time. It’s sunny and bright walking outside in the late morning, yet I can feel the bitter chill of the snow storm approaching, numbing my skin 

There’s a distinct bitterness in the air and it tastes like freshly fallen snow that doesn’t melt, but freezes your tongue. It’s a nip of coldness which makes you shiver long after you’re snuggled by the warmth of the fire indoors. 

 I know by night, the great pines and paved trail will be frozen and covered in cotton mounds. The frost will becomes a blanket of white remaining until spring seeps into the frozen north. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

alouette, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Alouette – “A Scare” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s photo prompt:

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Credit: Natalie Deprina

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She’s only twelve, bright —

The only girl separate from,

Her brothers four.

Parents her adore,

Their last child, girl comes, 

For Mom she’s a sight.

—-

A surprise one spring;

Thought there’d be no more kids born.

They so much wanted,

Girl so undaunted;

By elder brothers‘ scorn.

Bird fluttering wings.

—–

She laughs so cheery,

Going about her day, she’s teased

By family with love. 

Animals adore, 

She’s the darling who pleases,

Makes life less dreary.

—-

Out feeding horses, 

Then, rides with such glee calling,

Her dogs following. 

Danger in shallows, 

Ocean so near, tumbles, falls;

Swims smart, resourceful!

—–

Into warm arms pulled,

Mom near lost her dear, her pearl.

Dad is so wrathful, 

She wasn’t thoughtful

And where were her brothers? She —

Was grounded some. 

—–

Didn’t think enough;

She’s safe, all is well, she’s hugged,

Held close by her Mom,

Told, “Be careful hon!”

You’d be missed, you’re much loved.

Mom again gives hug.

—–

She’s happy again. 

Learned she’s human, as others. 

Preteens can die too.

Better to ride through —

Ocean waves, with friends, brothers. 

So life it remains

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Not To Touch #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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A Mixed Bag

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I’m reminded of a science experiment my class did in grade five. We used chalk to grow crystals on them. The exact process I don’t remember, but I do recall feeling proud upon removing a piece of chalk from my container and finding various coloured crystals on it. 

I thought back to this day when I saw the trees begin to glitter with crystals. It had been extremely cold and blizzardy, so we all assumed it was naturally, the accumulation of ice crystals. But then the trees became covered in crystals of all colours.

 There were bright lavender crystals and cyan blue crystals. There were even bubble gum pink crystals. Everyone thought this was the most beautiful and unique oddity. Journalists came from every city across the country, to report on this rarity for themselves. 

Then, scientists in the area starting testing the crystals and while they were lovely on the trees, the were not so lovely attached to your skin. They crystals once fastened, would not unfasten from one’s skin until a person was completely covered in them. Until their body was frozen, stiff, and dead as the trees which never budded in spring. 

Our town was nearly deserted by the time the military took over. The colourful forest was burned to the ground. 

The most heart breaking aspect for everyone was that the small children were the first to touch the trees. They had the smallest bodies and didn’t last long. I think it’s the reason so many people started over, the unbearable misery they left behind. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nature, November Notes, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Poem – Day 23 – Tankas – ” Never Us”


Today’s song prompt is “You Are a Memory” by Message to Bear.


 

“You Are a Memory” – Message to Bear


 

http://www.pinterest.com

 

Our pictures scattered,

Cross the ground, snowflakes —

Gathering, wetting,

Our times together lost in,

Snow, packing higher, hiding.


 

Tired of calling, this

Is the last time I’m telling —

You, put my name on,

Your list of significance,

So daft –never mind, too late.


 

Today I quit you,

Today I saw through you and —

Snow piled up on–

Pictures meaning nothing much,

Goodbye, you’re just glass; I’m steel.


 

Walking beneath trees,

Nature inviting me back in,

Your frosty winter —

Gone when spring comes with daisies,

Buttercups, roses, grass.


 

Met you one last time,

Found our pictures decaying,

You looked beneath, saw —

The blue and it was stunning,

But it was never us, thank God.


 


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Shadorma - 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

B&P’s Shadorma Challenge: “Winter is Here” #amwriting #poetry #shadorma


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Shadorma Challenge: 

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MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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There are many poems, 

Written of Fall, it’s glory. 

Enough wrote, 

It’s winter. 

Snow has come twice and it’s —

Looking to remain. 

——

Ah yes, yellow,orange . . .

I’ve heard it before, even of —

Maple leaves, 

Beautiful red. 

But all these colours, snow has —

Covered; the roads ice slick. 

——

Our Autumn is short, 

Mostly warm this year until, 

The snow came;

Griefs us with —

Scraping car windows early, 

Less sleep, horrid frost. 

—–

Another Fall poem, it’s —

In the past now, we’re snowed in;

Many months 

To Come now. 

It’s past mid-October, and —

Winter will not budge. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.