Lists, My Thoughts, Pinterest, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Notable Quotes March 2017 Part Two #quotes #pinterest


Hi hope you’re all having great March. Almost St. Patrick’s Day, green beer anyone? 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneer, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Fictioneer Flash Fiction: As Orchids #flashfiction #amwriting #nonfiction 


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff Fields for hosting FF.

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Credit: Roger Bultot

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I love orchids, especially purple ones. For me, orchids stand for resiliency and strength. One reason for this is that orchids need little care. A cupful of water every few days, leave them in the sun by a window, and they will continue to bloom and put out new shoots. Kindly, remember not to water them more, it’s how they die and orchids are notoriously difficult to kill. 

Season after season orchids put out shoots which turn into buds and burst out as soft petaled flowers. I think as orchids, humans are built to last. Though we are all moving towards our eventual death, on the way we are continuely putting out shoots and if we’re careful, growing beautiful flowers in the lives of those we touch. We are people who can grow even in harsh conditions. It doesn’t take much to fuel us, to keep us going, demonstrating our kindness to others. 
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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Lists, My Thoughts, Nature, Pinterest, Quotes, Writing

Notable Quotes February Part One #quotes #pinterest


Well, January has passed already. For me, it feels like it’s still right after Christmas. However, I won’t complain when the winter flies by fast — the sooner it flies by, the warmer it will be in Alberta. 

But this too depends on several little ground hogs tomorrow, all who we do not really know if they’ve seen their shadow. So we’ll see, as for now some quotes to make you think. Cheers! 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Grandpa’s Fish Pond #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks too Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: Sora Sangano – http://www.unsplash.com

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Phallon watched the fish swim in the pond his Grandpa had installed in his backyard. He enjoyed visiting his Grandpa each Saturday. Grandpa had put the pond in because young Phallon loved the fish so much as a toddler; ‘fishes’ had been his first word. 

Now he sat with Grandpa who asked him about school and of course the girls in his school. Uncomfortable, Phallon wished Grandpa didn’t ask him about that. 

Grandpa simply laughed,”Phallon, I’m only teasing you. It’s good you have friends who are girls and that there are girls you like. This Jennifer, have you asked her out?”

Phallon’s face turned red, “Yeah we’ve gone to a movie together and bowling. I want her to be my girlfriend but her parents say she’s too young to have a boyfriend.” 

Grandpa nodded a smile on his face, “You’ll find the right one when you’re older. When I saw your Grandma the first time, my heart lept out of my chest. I wonder if I will ever meet that right girl of yours and see you marry her?” 

Phallon felt uncomfortable again, “Why wouldn’t you be there Grandpa? You’re only eighty-one?” 

Grandpa patted Phallon’s hand then squeezed it, “You know, my boy, I’ve been sick a long time. It’s a battle I’ve mostly conquered, but my strength is waning these days.When you get married someday, think of your old Grandpa, okay?” Phallon nodded feeling a lump in his throat.

Two-years later Grandpa succumbed. Phallon was sixteen and felt raw inside. He returned to the fish pond in Grandpa’s  back yard. He noticed the fishes were floating and the reality of life made tears wet his cheeks. In the mess of the last two weeks including Grandpa’s funeral, no one had remembered to feed the fish. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Actor/ Actress, Beauty, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Free Verse, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

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Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

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As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

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Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

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You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

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Credit: Laces and Tiaras

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Stuck In A Moment


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.


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Credit: Roger Shipp

Diana was listening to U2 when she spotted the statue. He was carved out of black marble,  his athletic form highly emphasized.

“Stuck In a Moment” played on her phone and she chuckled to herself thinking this statue was indeed “stuck in a moment” and he would never be able to “get out of it.”

Circling him, Diana examined the statues form from all angles. She touched him, loving how smooth his marble skin felt. She was surprised when her touch sparked a light.

The light traveled through the veins and muscles of the statue from his feet up to his neck, flickering into the features of his face. Suddenly, what stood before Diana was an attractive man.

He grinned at Diana, unaware of his own nakedness. Smiling he clasped Diana’s hand before kissing her soundly. Then, he walked off into the crowded street, drawing unheard of female attention.

Diana continued her own way back to work unsure if what she experienced was real. She couldn’t help but think, the man who had been a statue, gave her the best kiss she’d had in forever.


“Stuck In A Moment” – U2


©Mandibelle16. (20170 All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Rondel - ABba abAB abbaA

November Notes: Poem – Day 20 – Rondel – “Better Than Your Worst Days” #amwriting #poetry #novembernotes #writing 


The song for this days song prompt was “Floodgates” by Colbie Caillat

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“Flood Gates” – Colbie Caillat

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Everyone’s felt broken, with force knocked down;

Leave your floodgates open, sad tears douse fires. 

Learn to love when someone hurts you, when you drown —

In tears, the sweetest nector, they inspire. 

There’s great might in being weak, don’t meltdown, 

Pick-up the pieces, work with it –aspire. 

Everyone’s felt broken, with force knocked down;

Leave your floodgates open, sad tears douse fires. 

There is strength in you, a hero renowned, 

You’ve more terror than the fire demons respire. 

Beat, belittled, your relisiant admired. 

You’re better than your worst days –you’re profound

Leave your floodgates open, sad tears douse fires. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “My Other Half” #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s photo prompt:

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http://www.inspirationfeed.com

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There are two-sides to me,

One you will hardly see.

She only comes out one night,

When the orb of the full moon frightens and blinds. 

She marks her time trapped, on my back,

Pacing inside me, my evil twin.

Each day I feel the pain she creates;

Carving out another tick, counting the days —

With her burning sharpie;

Writing on me with acid.

She takes the days five at a time;

Slowly each night I feel her poison,

But I shut her in, shut her down tight.

She is buried and not to be found,

When I call all light towards me. 

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Yet I have no power,

When her strength is full,

When the monster prowls, 

When it snaps its teeth for blood. 

The werewolf inside,

Biding her time,

Until now, when the moon is full and round;

She spits and she howls,

Her teeth sharp tiny daggers. 

She comes out from the floorboards,

The darkest dankest corner of my soul. 

Her prison she erupts from, no longer trapped,

She unfolds her wrath on all who pass, brings terror;

Clawing at me, shredding me for fun,

Because she knows when the night is done,

I’ll have my strength of luminous sparks again.

The light of the day will flow through me,

Cascading through my body,

Repairing all wounds.

But for tonight she roams the earth,

A horrifying hell monster with claws that hurt;

She shreds my insides, reminds me how small I am,

That she is all powerful and will one day win our war.

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But I am growing less afraid,

And I have time to be patient.

The night it ends, she’s back in her cage,
Marking me with acidic ink, every night,

 Until when next the moon is full bright —

She’ll break free of my skin, 

The torture will begin.

But yesterday night she didn’t come out? 

There was no fight to lock her in;

I think she’s trapped inside me, for good? 

And I’m claiming back my skin,

Healing all her burning marks 

Becoming someone new.

My other half is dead I think,

I don’t feel her uncoiling, 

Scrartching her way through my defence.

My plan conceived it ruined her.

And in slumber I locked her thrice, 

Poisoned her in sleep.

So the only place she’ll terrorize —

Is her own dreams and I think she quite deserves, 

The nightmares promised her, 

For all eternity;

Sickly wicked sister, gone at last. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Villanelle - 19 Lines aba, last two lines are a couplet -aa, Writing

#OctPoWriMo – Day 14 – Villanelle – “Fighting to Heal” #amwriting #poetry


Prompt Day 14: Shameful

What does the word “shameful” bring to mind for you? I found two quotes from nineteenth century French writer Victor Hugo that seem to capture my own thoughts on this word. Take a few minutes to free write and see where this leads you. Is it something you’ve done? Something that was done to you? Something you’ve observed on either a small, personal scale or large corporate or government level?”

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http://www.poetsontheblog.blogspot.ca

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No one said, life is as believed, 

We pass each day, avoiding pain; 

Forgetting, shamefully deceived.

Our worlds turn amiss, we bleed;

Yet, from difficulties too we gain. 

Consider them in life as reprieves

Intense pain, blood leaks and we grieve,

Toxins cleansed, blood let, not in vain;

Wounds left, shamefully unseemly

Suffer, yet many a worse life conceive; 

World that’s mean, feeds on human pain.

Yet, we shine our hope, despite grief; 

Though our scars are deep, we still breathe. 

There’s strength fighting, not leaving, 

A man near death, not left to bleed. 

Sacrifice and freedom conceived. 

Sadness trickles past, cleansing rain;

Bathed in water, hope found, relief, 

Strength, warm light glows, hope healing. 

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Villanelle:

“A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme: aba aba aba aba aba abaa.The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).”

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

#OctPoWriMo – Day 12 – Licentia – “Keep Fighting” #amwriting #poetry


Day 12 Prompt: Strong

“What comes to mind when you hear the word “strong”? Here are some of my thoughts: strong storm, strong body, strong spirit, strong drink…” 

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http://www.quotesgram.com

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Beautiful, bountiful time you glimmer dear, 

One moment you’re stalled, the next you’re too quick here. 

Strength is a quality not measured in moments, 

Measured in years, standing against time, back bent. 

It’s an eternal struggle with internal —

Thoughts and habits, striving to change and descern. 

Attempting to learn what experience teaches, 

Growing in ourselves and for others reaching. 

Improve upon our lives, our relationships, 

Don’t be still, life needs our participation. 

Beautiful, bountiful time you glimmer dear, 

One moment you’re stalled, the next you’re too quick here
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Strength is a quality not measured in moments, 

Measured in years, standing against time, back bent. 

Fighters push hard, keep trekking through the swamp land, 

Mud sucking at your boots, praying there’s no quicksand. 

Though tangled vines block your path, the machete cuts, 

Letting no vines keep you from glory — sword thrust. 

Old boat leaking, passing through life’s wide valleys, 

A quest you must complete, don’t you dare dally.

A light in the distance, shows your boat safe path, 

Light saves you from ending on rocks, body smashed. 

Beautiful, bountiful time you glimmer dear, 

One moment you’re stalled, the next you’re too quick here. 
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It’s an eternal struggle with internal —

Thoughts and habits, striving to change and descern. 

Looking inside ourselves, we’re often selfish, 

But we can change, help others, give back and wish —

We knew how wonderful it felt to generously, 

Give of all we are; family gives meaningfully. 

Inner strength once found, perserverance we grasp, 

Goes into the world, makes a sad person laugh. 

For finally they can overcome their issues sad, 

They see a light, see truth wins –every card hand. 

Beautiful, bountiful time you glimmer dear, 

One moment you’re stalled, the next you’re too quick here. 

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Attempting to learn what experience teaches, 

Growing in ourselves and for others reaching. 

Spread fortitude, physical, emotional and —
Spiritual; seeing  it bless, teach, understand —

Beyond words and muscle, past many barriers, 

Teach us to grow and find strength as warriors. 

Life such a battle, we do what we can in —

The time we are given, keep fighting and win. 

Glory and honour maybe yours or not yet, 

We go through life either way, path never set.

Beautiful, bountiful time you glimmer dear, 

One moment you’re stalled, the next you’re too quick here. 
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Licentia: 

“The Licentia Rhyme Form, a poetic form created by Laura Lamarca, consists of at least 3 12-line stanzas with 11 syllables per line. Of course, the poem can be elongated adding on to the following rhyme scheme: aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA.” 

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.