My Thoughts

Tale Weavers: Poem – The Blitz – “The Maiden and The Dragon” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt about a quest, such as the ones JRR Tolkien writes about in his famous books. 

———–

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——-

Dragons are here, I know it

Dragons beware, my sword is sharp

Sharp as the knives hid on my body

Sharp as the tongue of my wife

Wife said, “Do not go” 

Wife begged, yet I went 

Went through the haunted forest dark 

Went through the storms, muck, and mire

Mire as quicksand, sucked in my body

Mire that almost swallowed my life

Life burnt a flaming hole so wide

Life’s flame would not flicker out

Out of the muck and mire pulled

Out of certain death to rescue a princess

Locked in a tower for my Lord, my King 

Locked in a tower and languishing

Languished she did for centuries

Languished as a spell had been cast

Cast, so she would always sleep

Cast, because evil always hates

Hates beauty and goodness

Hates who this princess is said to be 

Be afraid though, I warn you, friend 

Be vigilant in your task to save 

Saving the princess isn’t the challenge

Saving her, I wondered, where is the dragon? 

Dragon she rose from the depths of beauty 

Dragon was the the princess herself 

Herself screaming, “I am the dragon”

Herself shouting, “I will eat you whole” 

Wholly she transformed in that fiery beast

Wholly she was a scaled, sulphereous demon

Demon who cried, “I am no damsal in distress”

Demon who seethed, “I protect me” 

Me, I gazed upon the languishing beauty 

Me, my eyes met the dragons yellow-eyed stare

Stared into my soul, saw I was a ruin 

Stared into my heart, saw I was wretched

Wretched cursed princess, the dragon? 

Wretched as the princess waiting 

Waiting and no one came so she grew tired

Waiting as she wrecks her vengeance 

Vengeance because no hero is true 

Vengeance, she can depend only on herself, no heroes 

Hereo, the archetypal kind who abuse poor maidens

Heroe, is there such a man who ever existed? 

Existed a hero she once did love 

Existed her hero but he never came — she remains cursed 

Cursed though she be, I could not destroy the beast

Cursed, she knows not why she is punished, cursed. 

Beast but still a girl, so I left, ashamed I could not save her. 

Cursed, she lingers on my mind, the maiden, the dragon as one

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer P2: The Liberty of Choice #amwriting #flashfiction #music 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. If you didn’t already know this is a Part 2 to Part 1 (found here).

——

Credit: Mike Vore

——

Part 2:



When Evangeline left home, she didn’t take a cent of the money she had earned playing piano at concerts. 

To make a living she learned to play guitar and sing vocals with various bands at ‘hole in the wall’ clubs in L.A. What little money she had she used for voice lessons, rent, and food.  She increasingly wrote and sang her own songs. 

At twenty-four, Evangeline auditioned for the popular reality TV show, “The Voice.” From the beginning, her talent blew the judges away and she eventually won first place. She called home and invited her mom to come see her final performance for the show.

 When Evangeline sat down in front of the grand piano her hands shook above the piano keys. She hadn’t played a piano in three years beyond practising in private for the finale show. She surprised everyone with her skillful piano playing and successful rendition of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back.” 

At the end of that night Evangeline hugged her mom. Every ounce of resentment and hate she felt for Ruth in the past had faded. She was also amused when she remembered the priceless expression on her mother’s face, hearing the lyrics to “Sexy Back.” 

She was also grateful Ruth had pushed her and provided Evangeline a background as a performer. It gave her an edge as she was now able to pursue her musical talents true to her own choices. 

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, LaCharta - aaaaabb ccccdd etc. - 8 syllables, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Collage Prompt: How Edges Are Smoothed #amwriting #poetry #LaCharta


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

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——-

Obscured by flowers she slumbers;

In restless sleep, dreams and wonders. 

Of every place she could be stumbling. 

She’s on a bus; she’s left and coming. 

Engaging, discovering the world, 

Hands in the air, gives happy twirl. 

—–

She knows she’s one of those shattered

Those broken people, hearts scattered. 

All she lost hurts her, still matters, 

She’s travelling, her soul battered

Wherever she feels she goes free —

Never having felt mindless glee. 

—–

In parks she discovers nature’s gifts, 

Rain falling down in healing bliss. 

Frost on the pine trees, light snow drifts;

Fall’s leaves hanging with an ice kiss.

Dew drops on the pine needles caught, 

Icicled and splendid shots. 

—-

Shuttering Nikon bright photos, 

Numerous, exquisite, with notes —

Written neatly underneath rows. 

Photos printed, memories wrote. 

Publishes first book from afar, 

Remains here; she’s seen lucent stars. 

—-

Gleaming, brilliant lights overhead, 

New home to heal, words yet unsaid. 

Forgets past, hangs laundry instead, 

Milk in jug for children, she’s wed; 

Life remoulded into her dreams, 

Someone loves her, he teases. 

——

They laugh with each other love spun; 

Knows her well but she’s cut him some. 

Yet he heals, heals her too; he proves —

Love is the balm, steady, true. 

Whenever her edges spike through, 

Holds her tight until she’s smooth, soothed. 

—–
LaCharta

“The LaCharta, created by Laura Lamarca, consists of a minimum of 3 stanzas with no maximum length stipulation. Each stanza contains 6 lines. The syllable count is 8 per line in iambic tetrameter and the rhyme scheme is aaaabb ccccdd eeeeff and so on. “La” is Laura Lamarca’s signature and “Charta” in Latin, simply means “poem”.”

Please see Shadow Poetry for further information.

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Current Events, History, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weaver Prompt: Poem – Wrapped Refrain – ” Fireworks Like Stars” #amwriting #poetry #newyears #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weavers prompt: celebration and the New Year.

—–

Credit: © Mara Eastern – Used with Permission.

——

Oh brilliant star once gifted, you 

Blow away all dark, you shine true.

Your colours effervescent, clear, 

Holding eternity in lights sear. 

The calm of night hidden, in sparkle with awe we live. 

Stars erupting vivid, as seen in a child’s eyes bright. 

—–

Dear child do you know, our country? 

Is not young as she was once; won —

Her liberty from England with ease. 

Didn’t as our Southern neighbours cease —

Their freedom; we grew from peaceful roots, we amplify, 

Reason in the world for one-hundred-fifty-years nigh.  

—–

So in this New Years night proudly, 

Watch the sparklers light, the crowd —

Cheering as the stars burst red, white —

And crackle in the air to delight. 

All people gathered to ring in twenty-seventeen, 

The year of Our Lord, brilliant stars gleam.

—–

We’ve more than celestial stars, 

Burning in the night milenias;

Milenias times millions more, 

Kanada, “village,” country born. 

A multiplicity of ethnicities know home,  

Glowing fireworks alight the skies, ample colour shown. 

—–

The stars are our fireworks, they 

Light all our ways home, to know, 

Such a gift we’ve been given, such —

Treasure fine: inspired and just, 

Fire in the sky ignites majestic liquid lights,  

Oh brilliant stars could we touch divinity this night? 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, Joseph's Star - 1,3,5,7,7,5,3,1 syllable, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Music Challenge: Poem – Joseph’s Star – “Hope in Love” #amwriting #poetry #music


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this Friday’s music prompt, “That’s The Way It Is” by Celine Dion. I’m doing a form of poetry called Joseph’s Star with 1, 3, 5, 7, 7, 5, 3, 1, syllable count in each star. Please see Shadow Poetry for more information. 

—–

“That’s The Way It Is” – Celine Dion

—–

Credit: http://www.favim.com

—–

Battle fought

It’s uphill, it’s true, 

But you’re a fighter and —

I see endurance in you.

Perseverance

You need love, 

True

—–

Some, 

Days it’s hard

Climbing the mountain, 

You’re prepared, capable

You’ve focus, faith, you’re hopeful

Don’t lose your spirit, 

Love survives, 

Through.

—-

There, 

When you need. 

Love intercedes;

You’re suffering has such —

Purpose, your future awaits. 

Love is in you, you’re —

Worthy, 

Of. 

—–

Don’t, 

Surrender. 

You’re good enough, you’ve 

Built a strong relationship, 

And you love with your whole heart.

Don’t doubt, keep your faith

Love you give —

Helps.

—-

Love, 

Makes you bold, 

Love creates safety

You’ve security and grace, 

With your love you’re fortified

You’re a lucky one, 

Blessed to be, 

Loved

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.
 

Fiction, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quatern - four quatrains, line a repeats moving down each stanza line until it's the last line of the last Quatern, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem – Quaterns – “You Are Not The Girl” #poetry #amwriting


Credit: Marcus Baccatti – http://www.pinterest.com

*****

You are not the girl I always knew,

The person I was most like, you flew –

No longer my number two,

You’re the girl I defended too. 

—–

At every step abandoned I grew, 

You are not the girl I always knew.

You say one thing, you’re actions show,

You’re not a dependable though.

——

I disattach so you won’t hurt,

Make the marks of neglect so curt.

You are not the girl I always knew,

I relied too much on you it’s true.

——

You’re not such a good person, though —

I put you on a pedestal, so –

I took care of you, and trusted you,

You are not the girl I always knew.

******

You are not the girl I always knew,

Life it changed, with it we both grew –

Forced apart at first by you, then thrown,

Hurt so much, but I’ve always known –

—–

I can’t completely trust you through –

You are not the girl I always knew.

So involved in yourself, stopped thinking,

Stopped caring, it made my soul shrink

——

To think of where life takes us, knowing —

One day you’ll leave, forever going.

You’re not the girl I always knew,

You just look like her, there are few –

—–

Who could ever replace this girl,

But she is stuck in her own world.

Changes, hoping friendship renews, 

You are not the girl I always knew.

*****

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Rispetto: iambic tetrameter ababa ccdd

November Notes: Day 7 – Poem – Rondeau – “Stars In The Sky Reflect” #novembernotes #poetry #coldplay #amwriting


Today’s prompt song is one of my most favourite songs, “Yellow” by Coldplay.

——

“Yellow” – ColdPlay

——

http://www.gizgaleri.blogspot.com

———

So perfect, stars in the sky they reflect, 

Why God formed you, made you so perfect. 
Shining for you such beacons genuflect, 
The rightness so moulded, creation construed —

Your skin and bones, beautiful and true. 

Such dust and ash, made good, in all respects.

—–

Graciousness —He bled for our disrespect, 

Made you to be loved, adored though imperfect. 

That’s why this man looks, catching your eyes true.

So perfect, stars in the sky they reflect. 

——

Why he takes time, drinking you in –perfect, 

Wonders how you’re created with such affect. 

Made so he sees you and becomes unglued, 

Knows his world is changing, each day proves —

Love of you, his girl, how you both connect. 

So perfect, stars in the sky reflect. 

——

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, My Thoughts, Novel - First Draft -"How Was Last Night For You.", Octelle - aa/bb/cc/aa - 88/77/77/88 syllables, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Travel, Writing

Tale Weavers Prompt: Poem – Octelle – “Story Line Wrote”


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this weeks prompt — Paper Back Writer:

” What is your great novel/novella/collection of short/flash fiction/poetry/ pulp paperback/graphic novel? Of course, you don’t have to write it, just write about it.

Weave any sort of tale;  in the abstract or concrete; as you or a character of yours; being accepted for publication; editing process; book tours – remember you ‘just wanna be a paperback writer.'”


paperbackwriter
Credit: http://www.revolutions5.com

I’m still working on a novel called: How Was Last Night For You? I’m editing it in second draft. Still a lot of work to do and haven’t had the time to work on it lately. This Octelle poem illustrates the story line roughly:


She wants love, but it keeps slipping,

Through her fingers, the Sirene dripping.

She’s a regular girl, too kind,

Believes in people and magic finds —

In her paranormal world sound,

Curses, mermaids, sea witch found.

Nina narrator, life gripping,

Focus and ire of a mer-witch.


John wasn’t smart at twenty-five,

Lied about girl, she cursed him live.

Where ever he wondered,

Strange events encountered.

People got hurt, women injured.

No love; witch’s wrath incurred.

Sees Nina drinking Flirtinie,

Sparks, passion, between them ignite.


A mermaid she is, sea witch too,

She’s experienced pain, heart broke through —

Victorian romance; cad —

He’d a mistress, kids they had.

Clued in after his death –cried,

Traveled, came home to new guy.

Adare never changed, men still lie.

No broken girl now -she’s Talise.


Characters wrote, story occurs,

Talise hates Nina — it’s inferred.

She cursed John left his soul burnt,

She wants John back, she’s a flirt.

Evil, she’ll never gain him through,

Her magic; Nina loves John true.

Witch’s wrath, all will suffer –die?

No one can say; writer yet edits.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Books, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Photo Challenge: Nonfiction – Waffles and Spaghetti: Men and Their Boxes #nonfiction #relationship 


Thank you to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge prompt. 

—–

Rob. Woodcox

—–

A popular dating guide I read years ago was called Men are Like Waffles –Woman Like Spaghetti By Bill and Pam Farrel.  Oddly enough this dating guide was first published in 1959 and then republished in 2001. Sometimes the guide is downright old fashioned and other times it gives some extremely wise advise. 

One part which always stuck out for me was the title of the book and why exactly men are like waffles and women like spaghetti. The above image from reminds me of these analogies. 

Just as waffles have all those small squares in them or boxes so do men in how they organize their life. Each area of their life is a box and never shall two boxes meet. A man’s work or his job is one box and his kids maybe another box. His wife and his relationship with her is another box and so is his fixation on fixing old cars or spending time chilling out watching Netflix or the hockey game on TV.

Woman on the other hand, are like spaghetti because everything in their lives is mixed with everything else going on in their lives. Each thing is connected and affects other things. For instance, if a woman is stressed out at work and her boss is riding her tail to finish a project, this might make the woman angry and moody at home because she has to hold it all in at work. Her kids know something is up and stay away from Mom and she feels rejected. 

Suddenly, she needs to clean everything in the house and is making the kids clean up too. Cleaning in this instance, makes her feel better because she is in control and able to accomplish something. At work she feels she cannot accomplish what she needs at the moment. Then Mom is upset at her kids because they are not doing a thorough cleaning job. At home, Mom’s the boss. 

Her husband comes into the great room to see what’s up with all the noise and cleaning on a late week night. He and his wife start talking and she’s mad at him and picking fights over him leaving his laundry on the floor and not texting her back at work today. 

She tells her husband she doesn’t have time to clean up after him, she’s really busy at work and no she can’t come to his work event. She can’t possibly make idol conversation with that weird woman her husband works with and seems to always want to talk to her right now, it would push her over the edge. Disatisfaction at work is effecting her whole life. 

A smart husband would realize something is up and talk his dear wife through things until he hits on the real issue. Or better yet, let his wife talk until she gets down to the real issue. After voicing her feelings, his wife will be happier and more relaxed.

On the other hand, her husband doesn’t understand completely why his wife needs to talk things out and why everything in her life effects everything else. 

His life is in boxes (apparently naked high up in trees) so when the work box gets to stressful, he goes to the box where he can tinker with the car he’s rebuilding. Work doesn’t effect him here, in fact, this box may help the husband think things through or gain perspective on issues he could be having at work or say the fight he had with his wife.

So all you men in your boxes, let your ladies talk it out and if they won’t, encourage them to talk when they’re ready. I know you don’t get this whole talking just because you need to thing, but actually you’re helping your woman find the root of a problem to deal with it. And that makes you a problem solver with a happier life and wife. 

Ladies, let your guy tinker, watch sports, or whatever when he’s stressed. He’s not as vocal as you and he’s thinking things through or giving himself a break from stress. He’s in his box and it’s giving him reprieve from his problem because he’s not in that work box or in another stressful box. When he’s ready he’ll say something, what he’s decided or after a while if he’s not a talker, you can encourage him to talk or outright ask him what’s up. Better not to to be too subtle

So that is the most memorable and important thing I learned from this book. Do you think it’s true in your own life? In anyone’s life? Or is it an outdated model from an old dating guide? 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Colour Psychology #amwriting #flashfiction #magenta


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——–

Jade M. Wong
——–

Sally and Georgia were at the local museum. The museum had an exhibit on colour psychology that both girls found fascinating.

They paused at a large diamond-like structure made of hard plastic magenta. “What’s this?” Both girls said.

“It looks as if it could be a pensive from Harry Potter,” Georgia said. “The sides of the diamond could open up and you could dip your head in.” 

Sally rolled her eyes, “I don’t think that has anything to do with colour psychology. I read that Magenta is made of both red and violet. It has the ‘passion, power, and energy of red [but is] restrained by [violet’s] introspection and quiet energy.’ ” 

“Interesting,” Georgie said reading the same plaque. ” Magenta is a colour concerned with ‘change and transformation. [It releases] old emotional patterns [which] prevent personal and spiritual development. [Magenta] aids [people] moving forward.'”

“Do you honestly think that’s true?” Sally asked.

“Well it is true people are drawn to certain colours for specific reasons. Sometimes it’s preference, other times colours help fulfill an emotional need for peace or something more colourful and bold,” Georgia remarked.

A preteen boy passed by the women gazing at the diamond. “Why the hell is there a pink diamond here? Who cares about colours anyways,” he said to his Mom who gave him a reproving look.

The women peered at the boy. “It’s Magenta,” Sally said. “Not pink, pink has no purple or blue in it; it’s a tint.” 

The boy’s eyes glazed over.

——-

For more information on colour theory for Magenta, please visit the source of my quotations here. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved