100 Word Wednesdays, Children/YA/Family, Fiction, History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: The New Teacher #amwriting #flashfiction #racism 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday. 

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Credit: William Stett via UnSplash

——–

It’s 1962 and Miss Parker’s exotic beauty temporarily shocks her grade seven class into silence. She has lovely dark skin and striking eyes lined with kohl. The boys are held speechless by her attractive appearance. Her bold cranberry lipstick and a fashionably revealing outfit are what her female student’s desire to wear.

Her student’s realize how interesting, knowledgable, and outgoing their new teacher is and walk home each day telling their parents Miss Parker is wonderful. The parents are thrilled for their children. 

Nevertheless, things change when the parent’s realize at parent teacher interviews, Miss Parker is black woman. Race was not a feature of Miss Parker their children noticed as racism is not ingrained within a child — it is taught. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Books, Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Collage Prompt: Poem – Rictameter – “Books and Cherries” #amwriting #poetry #collage


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Collage Prompt.


Collage MLMM
Credit: Shawn Van Deale the woman on the left: Johnny Palacois the woman/aloe vera plant on the right.

Humming,

As the bird who’s —

Thrumming in the air,

Struggling for each flutter so

Rapid; so utterly fast it’s blurring.

My wings in flight are haze to you,

You don’t see underneath;

Desperation,

Humming.

——

Darkness,

Arising in —

My stomach, spiraling,

To the surface out of my —

Broken soul that I mend in those worlds found,

In each and every story, novels —

Ending hiding; I’m no —

Crab in my shell’s —

Darkness.

——-

In dreams,

I writhe, I twist,

Tales of old and new —

Follow me when enters Sandman,

To calm adventures stripping me of sleep.

But just as I live in my books,

I live in nightmarish —

Tales at midnight,

In dreams.

——-

Awake,

Oh, sheltered one.

Let the black smoke rise, cleanse

Your body from your shattered self,

Set free your mind, let your spirit live,

Life’s the greatest adventure,

Stories read fill gaps;

Burst forth spirit,

Awake.

———

Cherries,

You’re sexy  as,

Women who curl cherry —

Stems into knots with skillful tongues.

Unafraid to bare your body,

When it’s appreciated.

With love, you expose your —

Soul; All for ripe

Cherries.

—-

As books,

Sweet red cherries,

From the Okanagan,

A valley of delicacies.

Driving through B.C. in summer, you —

Stop at every fruit stand,

Selling juicy fruit — truths;

Cherries savored,

As books.

—–

Smokescreen,

Floats up swirls as —

Papal smoke; the blackness,

Forgiven reading thousands

Of tales, every genre, every language.

Devouring ‘reads’ as cherries,

Demons gone; living with —

Wisdom taught, no —

Smokescreen.

——

Light’s glow,

In each tale read.

Nourishes souls; keeps me —

Aching to learn, wanting to know,

Of worlds, fantastic characters —

With hubris, compelling charm.

While some characters are —

Searching hard for,

Light’s glow.

—–

Writing,

It filled holes,

Torn in souls, in hearts wrecked,

The reader became author,

Discovering within her fingers lies a —

Haven, a solace of peace, rest;

Because the story grows —

In her, exposing —

Writing.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

Current Events, Flash Fiction, History, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Italian Sonnet “The Holiday Spirit” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

—–

Credit: A Mixed Bag

——

(Written Christmas Day)

Though times they change and we move on in life, 

We cannot say at Christmas, we’re not blessed

Food to eat, fine company, we confess —

To much chocolate, many sweets, little strife; 

Compared to the state of many a place ripe, 

With destruction, death, such hate which festers

To much is wrong, but be at peace nonetheless. 

His time draws near, have cheer; lasting hurt wiped. 

Peace on earth, goodwill to all mankind, let’s —

Be kind to our neighbours and remember to share, 

Life is tough, let no one be in despair

Let us share the good news, for He is born set —

Healing broken hearts and pains of the past bled, 

Great physician who taught, love each other, care

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Books, Current Events, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality

Tale Weaver: Poem – Octain Refrain – “Charity Heals” #amwriting #poetry #charlesdickinson #christmas #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver theme, a “Dickinsian Christmas.” 

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

“Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but – I hope – into a better shape.” 

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal, 

Life we’ve been taught, is malicious and cruel, 

We suffer and it’s under mankind’s harsh rule. 

Capitalism, more money, less feeling. 

Factories still, workers paid little or none. 

Have we past Dickinson’s time? Progress runs, 

Children suffer, no home or love that’s real. 

We’re not past an era of being fools. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—-

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

We need homes, our family’s love this Yule. 

We need to remember those broken cruel, 

By the hand life dealt them, by their hurts stung. 

We need to let them be with us here, among; 

To acknowledge the poor, the weak, and feel —

Their pain, let them know Christ’s here, life’s renewal. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

Vital to understand, life has no rules, 

It’s the reason there’s pain, badness accruals

But seek to do better, show the world meaning, 

Demonstrate, don’t forget others —

Those close and those far, all are our brothers, 

Our sisters on earth; so this Yule reveals, 

Though life’s experiences have us all schooled, 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Books, Current Events, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Octain Refrain/Double/High - Abbac/cabA Abbad/dabA, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver: Poem – Octain Refrain – “Charity Heals” #amwriting #poetry #charlesdickinson #christmas #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver theme, a “Dickinsian Christmas.” 

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

“Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but – I hope – into a better shape.” 

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal, 

Life we’ve been taught, is malicious and cruel, 

We suffer and it’s under mankind’s harsh rule. 

Capitalism, more money, less feeling. 

Factories still, workers paid little or none. 

Have we past Dickinson’s time? Progress runs, 

Children suffer, no home or love that’s real. 

We’re not past an era of being fools. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—-

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

We need homes, our family’s love this Yule. 

We need to remember those broken cruel, 

By the hand life dealt them, by their hurts stung. 

We need to let them be with us here, among; 

To acknowledge the poor, the weak, and feel —

Their pain, let them know Christ’s here, life’s renewal. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

Vitally understand, life has no rules, 

It’s the reason there’s pain, badness accruals. 

But seek to do better, show the world healing, 

Demonstrate, don’t forget others. 

Those close and those far, all are our brothers, 

Our sisters on earth; so this Yule reveal, 

Though life’s experiences have us all schooled, 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Current Events, Free Verse, Health, History, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – “Prayer for the Small Things” #amwriting #poetry #prayer


Credit: Saatchi Art – Thank God For Women Legs by Thomas Saliot

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Oh Lord, thank God for the small things, 

The words and acts of kindness, 

Which help me through the day.

Thank God for the small things, 

Each day I’m fed, 

I’ve many clothes to wear.

Thank you that I too can be generous

That you gave me a Mother who taught —

Her daughter to be thoughtful, 

So I wouldn’t think only of myself. 

And even when I’m hurt and crying

I can see a silver lining in that cloud. 

*****

Lord, thank you for the small things, 

A life I’m given to live

No matter how battered or bruised

You’re my armour and you never leave. 

Your champions wage

Though the whirlpool may swallow;

You bring us through to the other side. 

New blessings each day, 

More than we need or want, or deserve

Thank you for the small things. 

For earnings, for caring friends, 

For a heart that doesn’t break when it’s bent

Thank you for love; however, small it was, 

For those who hurt me, 

So I knew then, what forgiveness was. 

*****

Lord, oh for the small things, 

That kindness could be formed in me, 

To kill the badness, the jealousy

Thank you for keeping him safe, 

For him not being my guy, 

Though I pray for him still, 

You keep him secure, alive —

I pray you give him faith

And draw us both close to you. 

*****

Thank you my almost love, 

Is not in the big picture. 

I hope he sees his wealth, 

His privilege comes, 

Not only with acts of goodness

But faith in God, in Jesus —

From his heart

If I see him again —

Help me to not turn away but to repair

So much is your power, 

You could change a man’s mind. 

Help him see he is lost in the law, 

He needs your grace to believe

*****

Thank you Lord, for the small things, 

My family, my friends, those I detest. 

My lost pets, my forgotten foes. 

Every man I felt something special for,

For the ones who hurt me deep and cut in;

I didn’t bleed out and die inside. 

I moved on, survived

I’m doing okay. 

*****

Thank you I was born in this day and age

Not one-hundred something years ago or more. 

For medical advances, social programs, 

And people more understanding, 

At least I hope

Thank you that one day, I’ll see you face to face,
Thank you Lord, for the small things, 

For to me they’re very big.

My prayer I give and keep in my heart

For your omniscient presence, 

For your healing,

Oh Lord, I ask and give thanks. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Current Events, Free Verse, Health, History, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – “A Congested Mind” #poetry #amwriting 


http://www.pinterest.com

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They call it the unknown

The future lying before you. 

No matter if you’re psychic, 

No one knows what happens. 

There are varied scenarios,

Ways it could play out, 

But truly we don’t know the future

It’s a mystery creeping forward, 

And it pulls us along on our knees.

Whether we go willingly, 

Or go kicking and screaming;

Time marches in to the beat,

Of father time’s own drum. 

****

I don’t know what’s coming, 

I know worrying won’t help. 

I think sometimes I try to give advice, 

Reassuring myself in kind. 

There are bright possibilities, 

Hoping people become, 

More kind than they are mean to each other. 

Pray people look-out for each other, 

But sometimes I think society is self-centred. 

I admit to such fault and others too,

But I’m still fearful;

When I think of a year or two ahead, 

I’m afraid what if it’s not the right plan? 

Experience deftly taught me,

Plans are dim outlines of reality. 

Mostly, life goes where it goes

And God only knows where or why. 

Leading us through dark valleys, 

Into trenches with piercing bullets flying. 

Into classrooms with screaming kids, 

A gunmen on the loose. 

He leads us through to people, 

Whose power makes one nervous. 

How even democracy isn’t safe —

A tyrant could rule all. 

Maybe the world will surprise me, 

But I fear for the little person. 

*****

My own personal fears weigh heavy, 

Though others bear pains greater. 

Of lawyers and cases, 

Of corruption and crime. 

Those crimes we deem terrible;

Those crimes brushed under the rug. 

Greed and all those other sins,

Abhorred but freely ignored. 

Though I can never say what’s worse —

My own flaws or imperfections

Or those I’m faced with. 

Stress shows through cracks, 

Egg yokes running. 

No one likes raw eggs except in cookie dough

The future is overwhelming. 

But at least they’ll still be cookie dough, 

And I don’t know why —

I’m particular and observant

Why I know it’s better to be alone

Than be truly alone with another. 

Why I wait for that spark

Why I wait for the morning dawn. 

A smile in his eyes which is genuine

Wherever he is. 

But maybe happiness is a puppy

Paws following me on the hardwood, 

Barks at random sounds. 

The glory of a puppy skidding down —

The off leash trail and wheeling;

Turning around to jump on me, 

To pick her up when she’s tired. 

*****

My bones are stiff and ridged

My dreams fall to despair

So many books and writers, 

And not anyone can compare

How to rise above the masses, 

Or fill your own niche contented. 

But perhaps one could be something

Success in small moments. 
Afraid and weighted

Need to cry, tears unshed, 

Because disease is cruel. 
Even if Heaven is the end of the tunnel,

So many words are left unsaid

The timing of it all, does it work? 

I feel alienated

Though I try hard to keep the connection

It’s all in your planning Lord;

So must I say, your will be done.

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Poem -Day 24 – Italian Sonnet – “The Blame”


This days song prompt is “Buses and Trains” by Bachelor Girls.


“Buses and Trains” – Bachelor Girls


woman-hiding
http://www.pinterest.com

Mom, you didn’t say, how cruel the world is,

I could blame you for it all, but I’m grown.

Teach me, I could’ve learned by your grace known.

Each day I’m run down by trains, it’s fun this–

Game; ears ringing from sound trains make hissing.

Or a bus in front of me is coming, near miss —

Only by seconds I’m safe, empty words moan.

Why do I being pulverized feel sewn

Together a quilt, with all pieces, its bliss.

How do I explain I needed guidance?

It hurts me, you decided, gave me up.

 Without your words, boys became as chocolate,

Choosing the worst, failing being grown-up.

Addicted, inhaling them, drug sate.

You could’ve taught me better, it’s too late.


img_2951-22


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

Fiction, Mirrored Sestet, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Photo Challenge: Poem – Mirrored Sestet – “Fear of Moon” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this tarot prompt of the moon.

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nothoughtdeviantart.com

——–

World is dim, unconsciousness formed swirls.

Swirls call my mind to odd distant other worlds.

Journey, searching, will I find a place worth, 

Worth finding strange people, repeat journey

Cannot do what I need to do, what’s taught

Taught in school, remembered, forget I cannot

——

Always search, but I never find hallways

 Hallways leading home, place needed always

Excitement high feeds my  inticements

Inticement lingers, through mass excitement

Words coming from my mouth, words but unheard.

Unheard words, no one understands my words.

——

Dreamscapes, such funny places explored seem

Seem alive but hiding painful dreamscapes

No escape, when you wish to climb, landscapes.

Landscapes change in dreams I find, no escape. 

Colourful world, weird place some twisted other —

Other world catches, enfolds, colourful world. 

——-

Where am I, that I chase and can’t find there

There? Places which are morphed, a trap, go where? 

Placed objects in my hands, details I traced

Traced how they felt before I left replaced

Shimmering full moon glimmering.

Glimmering dark moon shimmering. 

——

In dreams the moon it haunts, whispers of sin,

Sins past, present, future not letting in —

Hoping of waking up, tired of fake words spoke.

Spoke from mouths which would never stop hoping.

Here they do, the moon crushing hope with fear.

Fear it rules night, moon glows; yet morn now here

———–

A Mirrored Sestet – http://www.shadowpoetry.com

The Mirror Sestet, created by Shelley A. Cephas, is a poem that can be written in one or more stanzas of 6 lines each. The specific guidelines for this form are as follows:
The first word of line 1 rhymes with the last word of line 1.
The first word of line 2 is the last word of line 1

and the last word of line 2 is the 1st word of line 1.

——-

The first word of line 3 rhymes with the last word of line 3.
The first word of line 4 is the last word of line 3

and the last word of line 4 is the 1st word of line 3.

——-

The first word of line 5 rhymes with the last word of line 5.
The first word of line 6 is the last word of line 5

and the last word of line 6 is the 1st word of line 5.

———

The Mirror Sestet can also be written in non-rhyme.

All rules must be followed except there is no 1st and last word rhyming.

———

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.