Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem -Free Verse – “World’s in Books #amwriting #poetry


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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TJ Paris

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Leave me here; I don’t want to go back yet, 

Gigantic and prolific library,

Please, I beg, let me stay the night, explore.

The windows are huge, light the entire room.

Let me stay as day fades, using candlelight to read.

I’ve spotted mint condition editions, Mark Twain.

On the otherside I found, several books by Jane Austin, 

I can hardly breathe, there’s so much literature.

Nathanial Hawthornes, Scarlet Letter,

D.H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers, found, 

You’re angry; I understand, go back to the hotel, 

Let me read as the sunsets, in black night.

You don’t understand all the world’s I’ve discovered, 

I walked in a simple library, found glory.

Paging through stories, even modern,

Saul Bellow’s Mr Samler’s Planet, found,

Stephen King and Margaret Atwood her —

I never liked so much as Harlequins,

Dated back to the nineteen-forties, fifties, 

A treasure I’ve found, it’s priceless, worth so–

Much more than all the gold, which ever was and is,

Leave me read dear, let me delight, in lands, 

We can never see, outside this hallowed sanctuary. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Sunday Photo Fiction: Some People Never Learn.


“Oh god, it’s behind us. I don’t know how long I can keep running.” Derek shouted.

“Don’t stop, if you do, T-Rex is going to eat you alive, run faster!” Evan screamed.

“Ah, he almost had me there.” Derek yelled breathing a sigh of relief as he dodged T-Rex’s sharp teeth. “Thank god, he has a small brain, despite everything they’ve done to enhance him.” 

Derek hid behind an old building staying perfectly still. If Jurassic Park had taught him anything it was that a T-Rex couldn’t see you if you didn’t move. They couldn’t right? 

“Ah, no…aghhhhh.” Derek heard Evan screaming. Derek concentrated on keeping his breathing deep and even.

An entire series of books on bringing dinosaurs back to life had been written by Michael Crichton and made into graphic movies, yet President Trump decided that the Island of Bikini was the perfect place to make dinosaurs exist once more.

Not only had his scientific team cloned dinosaurs such as the T-Rex, they had also genetically altered their DNA making T-Rex a more intelligent dinosaur.

Additionally, the President’s team had cloned and altered these dinosaurs on the Island of Bikini where nuclear weapons were tested in WWII. The island was a mess of radioactivitiy which further mutated the dinosaurs DNA giving them greater stealth and prowess.

Derek had to warn people, convince the President to nuke the island so these beasts never got further then Bikini. Derek was going to move but it was too late, Mama T-Rex had known where Derek was all along. She clenched her mouth around Derek’s body as he screamed in agony. 

Out in the ocean, the large luxury ocean liner with the President and his scientific team, heard Derek’s screams. They turned away from the giant screen displaying his terrible death.

President Trump was angry. His team’s manipulation and creation of dinosaurs was going horribly wrong and he didn’t know why.

Under the surface of the gigantic ocean liner, an even greater and more terrifying dinosaur swam underneath the boat, flipping the ocean liner and eating everyone inside.

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Sorry whatever I did, the dinosaur picture wouldn’t upload. So imagine a T-Rex is about to eat you. . .

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Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

A Quote Which Encourages Me to Write, Even When I Doubt Myself.


Thanks to Martin Flux, whose challenge was for writers to share a quote that encouraged them to write.

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“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.” – Stephen King.

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You might think this an odd quote to choose. It might be strange that a quote that talks about a writer feeling diminished because of what they wrote being too close to their heart, encourages my own writing. But I find when I put myself out there; when I write and I write about the things that have hurt me the most; or made me love the most; and I admit things that make me seem a careless human being, I’m at my best. 

All people guard secrets close to their hearts and so most understand. And for people who read my work and ask, “Why would you ever admit that or say that, where people can read it and see it?” It is because I have to make people understand. I accept some people won’t but it doesn’t make me stop attempting to relate to them in someway. 

I often feel as I have this explosion of words and story demanding to be let out of my heart. So I write, and later I edit and correct. I try to make my emotions understandable through writing, a method people relate to. You may not comprehend what I wrote. But I needed to tell that story and say those words even if I didn’t do it sufficiently.

Writing is like breathing for me. Some people talk a lot and tell stories out loud, I tell them typed on pages. Or I write them by hand in journals.Yet I know, there I things I say that will be misunderstood or taken out of context, or read with an incorrect meaning attached. But then when you write, that’s how it is, the reader often chooses the meaning.

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©Mandibelle16.All Rights Reserved.