Memories/Childhood, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: Low Places #amwriting #music #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.

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Credit: Edwin Undrade via UnSplash

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The resonance of his voice carries in the arena, an audience enthralled by the first twang of his voice. 

He’s a brilliant musician, the epitome of which other Country artists aspire to be –a world wide known musician, a gifted storyteller, with a beautiful famous wife. 

The cadence of his final song’s chorus resounds as he considers the eight more shows he’s playing here; the last lyrics hover in the ambience of the audience as he leaves the stage:”Oh, I’ve got friends in low places.” 

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Note: Where I live, Garth Brooks is performing. His concerts kept selling out so they continued to add new shows, even weekend afternoon performances, until he was performing for nine shows. We’re pretty impressed that he’d play nine shows in our city. If he added a show or two more I’m sure they’d sell out as well; I still couldn’t get tickets 🙂 

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“Low Places” by Garth Brook

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Shakespearean Sonnet - iambic pentameter abab cdcd efef gg, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Travel, Writing

Photo Prompt: Poetry – Shakespearean Sonnet – “A Stage”


Thank you to Mind Loves Misery’s Menagerie for this weeks photo prompt:

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Unknown

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The whole world is our stage, the bard, Shakespeare —

In As You Like It, wrote: we‘re all acting.

Our flaws from our image perceived, not clear. 

Perform each day, we say words not exact.

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Our fear, our doubt; such lonileness confides,

All our truths to another’s sad eyes,

On rocks we stumble, we cannot stay; reside.

We could beg for help but we act, more lies. 

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Curtains about to part, they hide stage fright,

White billowing clouds, pulled by ropes they show, 

Each person performing their role, their life. 

Hoping they bloom, become more then this –grow. 

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The world’s a stage, what wisdom to impart,

We’re merely players, to soon to depart. 

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For more info on Shakespeare’s famous lines from As You Like It, visit here

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Flash fiction for Aspiring Writers: “Demonic Beauty”


Enclosed in the bar, eyes magnify; temptress in red, silk sliding on skin.

Sway in her hips, a tease of the senses. Men breathless consent, adoring sin.

Striding with ease, heels ruby with diamonds. Naked shoulders shimmer, anticipating.

Treading softly, fallen in red fire, elusive, and beguiling; illusion of flames sating.

Moving her hips, licking cherry red lips; coal glimmer in demonic eyes.

Sensations burning, engulfs her body; seething, writhing, building her disguise,

A vestige of power; she’s the tyger enticing, an allusion to Eden, of poisonus lies.

Decisive, sauntering closer, flicking hair, tar-black as the ash before Lent.

Peer into eyes, a glimmer of gold, metal men grieve for; silence, fire scent.

A vision, a curse, a whisper in vain — animating, the instrument on stage, 

Notes dance, music bleeding; breathing sweat, the melody of the enraged,

Fire rings, smoke engulfing; watch the woman despair, her voice entrances, beware–

Beauty enraged, a witch, incaged; performing she’s the beast, on stage no cares.

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http://www.pixebay.com
 

Thanks to Priceless Joy our wonderful host of FFfAW.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  – The Opera House


Maggie was to attend her favourite singer in concert at the opera house. The old theatre was a bit of a frightening place.  The chairs were red, an aged patina, with stuffing falling out. Sound amplified in a strange way in the old opera house, and one could hear the whispers of voices, of bygone  performers whenever the crowd went quiet waiting for the modern day songstress to belt out her next song. At the end of the concert, the theatre emptied rapidly until Maggie found herself alone, drawn to the deserted stage. Maggie traced the edge of the stage and when she looked up the opera house had altered. 

Maggie opened her eyes to see the ancient theatre in all it’s splendid glory of luxurious newness. She was wearing a flapper dress and headband and the seats were filled with woman and men dressed in their best from the same 1920’s era. Maggie approached the stage, they were all clapping for her, the newest soul to be claimed by the haunted world of the old opera house. Doomed to spend eternity reliving the concerts that had taken place in this once opulent place. 

The police found her lying dead on the stage the next morning.

  
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting!