#NaPoWriMo Day 9: Poem — Italian Sonnet — “Summer Games” #amwritingpoetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 9 the prompt is:


“Today, I’d like to challenge you to write your own Sei Shonagon-style list of “things.” What things? Well, that’s for you to decide!


Credit: Scott Trento via Unsplash


Summer Saturday’s in Churchill square; Taste —

Of Edmonton, loud music resounds.

Jugglers, acrobats, twist too profound,

We watch, coin in their hats never wasted.

Ballerina on swing, pumps legs with haste,

She leaps, stardust into the circus sky;

She’s fearless; he’ll catch her high dive.

Old movies too in September frost play,

Kids nestled in sleeping bags, cocoa

Shared in red cups, caramel popcorn crunched.

Giggles sound – Mrs Doubt-fire’s drag brings,

Hilarity for all ages; though talent —

Was ruined, darkness dwelled; laughter stays and rings,

Immortality in giggles remains.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019)All Rights Reserved.


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Three Line Tales: Poem – Lunes – “Carnival Memories” #amwritingpoetry #3LineTales


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


Credit: Harpal Singh via Unsplash.


Carnival night’s flash ethereal; dreams —

Hope’s gossamer moments;

Merry-go-rounds, buttery popcorn.

*****

Glory-days, infused cotton-candy,

Familiar sweetness; children’s —

Giggles echo beyond Winter’s cage.

****

Mini-donuts melt mouth-watering,

White lights; Cherub’s —

Gallop, neighing horses, summertime’s myth.

*****


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes: August 2018: Part One #pinterest #quotes #notablequotes


Happy August! Here’s some Wine and Words too soothe your soul and make you laugh. If you’re like me, most wine you’re having in summer is in your sangria, but a sweet bottle of Rose, Red, or hey, even Red, is wonderful chilled in the summer evening.

Hoping everyone’s been enjoying themselves if you’re off on summer vacation or break, and if you’re in the middle of another season, I hope you’re enjoying some cooler weather as in some places (Australia or Italy for example), summer can be miserably hot.


I’m off to my first Writer’s Conference in a week or so, and I’m excited to be among Writer-folk in person for a bit, and not only online. I enjoy both, but a change of scenery is nice, as is spending some time with a great friend, Psychologist, and Steeped Tea Sipologist. Also, back to house sit and chill with my puppy-friend Jenga, while her owners are away a few days before the conference!


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©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes: June Part Three 2018 #pinterest #quotes #notablequotes


Hey, back from Vegas and I’m excited for summer festivals such as Shakespeare in the Park, The Street Performers, A Taste if Edmonton, K-days, and a few others. Summer is such a fun time.

When you’re buried in snow from November to the beginning of May, patio weather, summer festivities, and vacations help many of us through those rough cold times. Especially, if one can’t take a winter vacation. Anyways, whatever you season, enjoy it!


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©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 20/Tale Weavers: Poem – Free Verse – “Ember of Glory” #amwriting #poetry #MLMM #TaleWeavers


For #NaPoWriMo Day 20 the Prompt is: ” to write a poem that involves rebellion in some way. The speaker or subject of the poem could defy a rule or structure that’s been placed on them, or the poem could begin by obeying a rule and then proceed to break it.

Also, combining with Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie TaleWeavers Prompt “exploring the concept of longing. What is it you long for? Health, holiday, freedom, love, understanding, acceptance.”


Credit: Robert Lukeman via Unsplash


These cubicles, they’re full —

But outside there’s fresh -air and freedom.

A world to explore, to engage to the core,

Outside these thin walls is liberty.

No more work burdens to bear,

So, the mountains and city steps I’ll climb.

And these cubicles, I’ll slice them full of holes,

Tacking up scenic pictures to inspire my soul.

Nature’s vibrant purple-skies as storms roll in,

Waterfalls that crash, and streams that gurgle.

Cars that absorb the grind of the rocky-road,

Spring zipping through the highways on four-wheels.

All in all, I’m forlorn, for the wide-great outdoors,

Scented pine-needles and decaying earth.

Wings of bubble-bees as they hit the breeze,

And flutter into pale-pink roses.

I’ll knock down these walls with hammers and saws,

Because no architect supposed workers crave sunlight.

No builder thought windows were essential to breathe,

That these gray walls, dense recycled air —

Aren’t places for humans to exist;

To flourish and grow, to be creative and problem-solve.

They’re the prisons where we labor to earn —

The visage of sunlight on rippling waters.

Oceans crashing against rocks —

The flow of rivers down the banks,

And the hustle of people as they swarm live-festivals,

Scamper for cool beer and watermelon.

When we peer to the ceiling, we’re searching for the sky,

So, you can call security, but either way, I’m escaping.

The green-grass is sweet and calling to me;

My heart beats for the tides’ ankle-deep caress.

And a tangerine sunset, it lives inside me,

The ember of glory that leads the way,

Through the dull-dread of each dreary workday.


©Mandibelle16. (2018).All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Cracking Into Place #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.


Credit: Dawn Miller


Danny’s back pulsed and ached. Pain like fire raced through his lower back and centered in his shoulder blades and neck. He had spent the day hauling wood chips for his cabin.

Strolling inside, he sorted through the mail, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back, praying the sharp pains would cease.

Anne peered up from the kitchen stove. “You have all the wood chips hauled into the shed?”

“Yeah, we’re set until summer. I pulled some muscles, though.”

“Hmmm, did you stretch before?”

“It’ll be fine after a hot shower.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “I hope so. You always make fun of my yoga, but it gives me flexibility and stretches my soar muscles. You should try a short video tonight.”

She flipped through the saved videos on the Youtube app on her phone, pausing at ‘Yoga for Back Pain.’ She handed Danny her phone. “Do this video and you’ll feel much better.”

“It’s fine, really.” He kissed Anne’s cheek, setting down her phone.

The next morning Danny attempted to get up, but he couldn’t raise himself into a sitting position, not even a reclined one. Whenever he tried, fiery pain shot through his entire back and shoulders.

Anne gazed at him half-awake, before sitting up. She guided his arms, upper back, and shoulders in ‘yogesque’ movements. The burning pain lessened with a few clicks and snaps as she stretched out his torso.

When his lower back cracked into place, Danny moaned. He sat up, than stood with ease.

Splaying out on her side of the bed, Anne closed her eyes. “Now that your back is good, you can make us both breakfast. I deserve breakfast in bed.”


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

November Notes Day 16 /Photochallenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Immeasurable” #photochallenge #poetry #amwriting


For November Notes the song is “Words as Weapons” by Birds. I’m combining with NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge Prompt.


Credit: Discrete


“Words as Weapons” by Birds


You can try to measure her angles,

Try to rationalize her curves.

Measure her so your comprehension of her is scientific;

But to math and science she’s absurd.

She has no rhyme or reason,

And you can’t make a person a logical equation.

Her body is not algebra,

Nor is she a kind of Cosine, Sine, or Tangent Angle.

You can use your words as methodical weapons,

To untangle her qualitative values,

But your words like swords will never cut to her core.

She’ll use her tears as numerous weapons,

And you can’t measure those.

Their quantitative value is beyond this world.

And she’s no statistical value,

She isn’t found in Trigonometry or in quadrilaterals.

And you’ll find no help about her in Epistemology;

Nor any philosophical math or logic.

Some things in life are beyond words and equations,

They aren’t logical or reasonable,

They are what they are.

And if you love all her curves and angles,

Can’t you let that be enough?

There’s no need to hypothesis,

To predict the future or the next hour,

So what if her face is symmetrical?

You can use your words as abject weapons,

To untangle her qualitative values,

But your words like swords will never cut to her core.

She’ll use her tears as numerous weapons,

And you can’t measure those,

Their quantitative value is beyond this world,

It’s called feeling and living in the moment,

Joyeux de Vivre or spontaneity,

No being afraid to let life happen,

To have Passion in the here and now.

Though you find it easier to measure and quantify your life,

Perhaps quality is a better goal?

And if such beauty you behold,

That you cannot find the exact right words,

There are other ways to show your love.

You can use your words as hurtful weapons,

To untangle her qualitative values,

But your words like swords will never cut to her core.

She’ll use her tears as more painful weapons,

And you can’t measure those,

Their quantitative value is beyond this world.

Before your mind starts to unravel,

In charts and graphs and parabolas,

Accept her for the flower she is,

Blooming without thought or reason,

In the midst of a freezing winter.

She is who she is and she isn’t a number,

Not even a poem,

She’s only and always a woman,

Her worth immeasurable,

Her love beyond equations and perfect values.

She is your summer in the bitter cold of life.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Tale Weavers: Prompt -Free Verse – “Today’s Your Day” #poetry #dVerse #taleweavers


Thanks to Lorraine of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weavers #131 on the theme of “making it your day.” I’m combining this prompt with Lillian of Poetic’s Pub #dVerse prompt of “seeking some shade.” 


Hammock Summer Day Katya Austin
Credit: Katya Austin via UnSplash

Today’s your day,

Go outside, love it,

Take in the sun’s —

Pure golden rays.

Graze through,

Fresh markets,

Ripe fruit,

Crisp vegetables.

Today’s your day,

Make something of it.

Inhale,

Fresh air;

Grass blades,

From mowed lawns.

The scent of,

Salty ocean breeze;

Scent of sand,

Sunscreen lotion.

Aroma of forest,

Rot, decay,

Contrast with bloom,

Flourishment.

Today’s your day,

Laugh, love,

Profoundly.

Take photos,

Future memories.

Hold your honey,

Close.

Kiss your,

Children’s sticky cheeks.

Run, play —

With them,

Until you’ve exhausted them.

Chase your dog,

Doing zoomies.

Today’s your day,

Spend it, however,

You please.

Sit under shade,

Of oldest tree,

On soft blankets.

Read an —

Immersing book.

Drink sangria,

Secretly.

Snack on chocolate,

On fleshy pink,

Watermelon.

Today’s your day,

Live it vivaciously,

For there’ll  never,

Be another day,

Same as this —

One’s been.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Music #9 /Photo Challenge: Poem – Blitz – Liabilities Now Shed” #musicchallenge #poetry #amwriting #photochallenge 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the last music challenge. Also thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s photo challenge. 

——–

Credit: MKA photography

——-
Lords – “Liability” 

——–

You’re a little much for me, see 

See you’re a liability 

Liabilities are costly 

Liability, that’s you baby 

Baby hurt me so much

Baby left me crying 

Crying in the taxi 

Crying until I reached home 

Home, it’s what I though we had

Home, what’s one broken? 

Broken I’m shattered

Broken, he doesn’t need to know

Knowing me, mistake were made 

Knowing little, he couldn’t handle trying  

Trying to dance in my storm 

Trying not to be poisoned 

Poison, he said that’s what I was

Poison, that’s what he is 

He is poison destructive to me 

He is the maker of harsh demands 

Demands — I only meet my own now

Demands are so tiring 

Tiring, he’s too hard to please

Tiring, he says I’m diseased 

Diseased, he’s the one, making ‘us’ decay

Diseased, the man I knew gone 

Gone amd there’s no more dancing 

Gone, no more love in the dark

Darkness, I’m alone swaying 

Dark and alone, dancing alone

Alone too much for him 

Alone I’m still dangerous 

Dangerous truth: he treats me as a toy 

Dangerous and too boring 

Boring after doing exciting tricks

Boring after our perfect summer

Summer in my heart hurts  

Summer’s turned cold 

Cold eating me alive, 

Cold cause, you’re all gone 

Gone so I’m on my own 

Gone, I accept I’m a liability 

Liabilities must be forgotten 

Liabilities must be shed

Shed so as not to him expose. 

Forgotten so I’m never loved. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved 

100 Word Wednesday: Fishing for Life #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesdays 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.

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Credit: Bikurgurl

——

We live along the river in delapitated shanties. At sunrise we sleepily pull on our rubber boots and checked flannel shirts. It’s late fall and the days are chillier. It doesn’t mean we can’t fish, but the joy of a temperate summer is a distant memory. Gone are the laughter filled nights of plentiful fish, drinking rice wine until midnight. 

Harsh temperatures have arrived. Our mornings are early so we can chase the waning light. Evening arrives and the catch is not terrible but not plentiful. The fish at this time of year are wiggly and stronger. 

I shiver in the morning light, winter’s stinging winds drawing near. Soon the river will be coated with ice. Then, all we can do is drill a hole and hope for something to bite — anything.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.