Notable Quotes June Part One #pinterest quotes 


Yay! Time for quotes again. Hope you are all well and find a piece of inspiration here from one of these notable lines. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Three Line Tales: Darkness and Light #quotes #goodreads #3LineTales


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

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Credit: Ales Krivec – UnSplash

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1. “It was dusk and the light had an ultra-violet quality to it, a final burst of pigmentation as night and day rushed at each other in a clash of colour prisms before darkness finally, inevitably won out.” 

― Karen Swan, Christmas in the Snow


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2. “The dance between darkness and light will always remain— the stars and the moon will always need the darkness to be seen, the darkness will just not be worth having without the moon and the stars.” 

― C. JoyBell C.

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3. “But if I’ve learned anything, it is that goodness prevails, not in the absence of reasons to despair, but in spite of them; if we wait for clean heroes and clear choices and evidence on our side to act, we will wait forever . . . [life] . . .  teach[es] me that people who bring light into the world wrench it out of darkness, and contend openly with darkness all of their days; [… they] were flawed human beings, who wrestled with demons in themselves as in the world outside; [for] me, their goodness is more interesting, more genuinely inspiring because of that reality; [the] spiritual geniuses of the ages and of the everyday simply don’t let despair have the last word, nor do they close their eyes to its pictures or deny the enormity of it’s facts; [they] say, “Yes, and …,” and they wake up the next day, and the day after that, to live accordingly.” 

― Krista Tippett, Speaking of Faith. 

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All Quotes curtesy of GoodReads. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Noteable Quotes: Part One – January 2017 #quotes #pinterest #newyear


Happy New Year 2017!!!!! Here are some quotes to start the new year off right. I look forward this year to exciting challenges to learn from, experiences to be present in, and new people I will have to pleasure to know and meet both out and about and in the blogging/writing world online. 

 Thank you to all of you who follow my blog and/or read my blog posts and writing. Thank you for your support and for your time! It’s much appreciated as are your likes, comments, and follows on WordPress, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, and Facebook!!!! You are amazing!!!! Hoping 2017 is everything fantastic you hope it will be! 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: When The Player Is Played #flashfiction #amwriting #fiction 


Thanks too Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Joy Pixley

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These dreary sky’s didn’t feel like Christmas to Kayden. Nor did the nameless woman beside him, a snake tattoo climbing her back through a leering skull. 

The girl moaned, waking up and briefly flashing Kayden with light blue-eyes and her chest, where tattoos of thorns and brambles wandered. She smirked when she saw Kayden’s face:

“Haven’t been with a girl with tattoos like me before, have you?” 

Kaydeen felt no need to answer and she laughed,”That’s fine. So we’re clear, I was drunk and using you for sex and not the other way around.” He chuckled and was about to talk when she shushed him. 

“This is my apartment and in ten-minutes, you need to be gone,” the girl mumbled pressing her head into her pillow sleepily. 

Kayden wanted to protest but she was already asleep. 

A Merry Christmas to him indeed. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Alouette – “Head on My Lap”


The Alouette, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following set rules:

Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7
Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b

The form name is a French word meaning ‘skylark’ or larks that fly high, the association to the lark’s song being appropriate for the musical quality of this form. The word ‘alouette’ can also mean a children’s song (usually sung in a group), and although this poetry form is not necessarily for children’s poetry (but can be applied that way), it is reminiscent of that style of short lines. Preference for the meter accent is on the third syllable of each line (please see examples below).

Please visit Shadow Poetry for more information.


Man with Head on Woman's lap
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I worry for you,

My reasons see through,

No such opacity and —

You never look up,

Drinking coffee cup,

Living in your box of quick sand.


You won’t admit truth,

Reality isn’t proof,

What world do you inhabit?

Not ever seeing,

A blank lost being,

Following the white rabbit.


Life’s not Wonderland,

It’s not a game grande.

You need choose to be living,

Not a ghost fading.

A person jaded.

Wake-up, be aware, forgive.


We can’t live this life,

No passion or strife,

Dig-down in your belly, find —

Life’s fire hiding, soar —

Past limits, encore!

Joy, vibrance; be kind.


Love, you’re secluded;

Don’t live deluded.

You’re my everything, my fire.

Darkness you have found,

Devours you around.

Let us be flames who aspire.


Be not sad, life changes,

Alter our exchanges.

Talk, laugh; head placed on my lap,

Tell my your secrets.

All your woes, bleakness.

Let no thoughts keep your soul trapped.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

Maydays: Fiction – Part 2 – After The Plane Crash #Maydays


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Thanks to K.L. Caley of new2writing for hosting #Mayday prompts. Today’s theme is a battle or fight of some kind. Also, Part 2 of a continuing series After The Plane Crash. Read Part 1 here. The battle I’m showing is the main characters fight through her fever and aches from being lost in the wild two weeks.

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Please read Part 1 here.

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“Young lady are you awake.” A woman’s voice whispered to me quietly. “What’s your name?”

I make a noise, not wanting to leave the land of my dreams. It’s safe and peaceful here. Danny is with me and we’re drinking a beer together like old times. I know my friend is not real but I don’t want to admit to myself in my dreams; Danny is dead.

A gentle hand feels my forehead. “She has a high fever. I’m not surprised being out in the wilderness that long. She’s sweating. I think it was an excellent thing the doctor got here so fast and we were able to hook her up to an IV to get some fluid and nutrition into her body.”

 The woman’s voice was soft and sensible. She sounded like the voice of a lady who was a mother. She smoothed back my hair and I sighed in my state of half sleep. I was cold and sweating at the same time. Iceness overcame me and I shivered trying to pull plush blankets around me as I sweated.

“Aunt Tabitha, what can we do? If we keep giving her the IV as the doctor said, and introduce her to some soup and other food in a few days, do you think she’ll be alright?” 

The voice I heard speaking was the deep male voice I had heard before I passed out. The voice had a rich timber, it sounded young and attractive. 

A small smile shaped my lips, then I groaned as cold sweat overcame me. “Poor thing,” Aunt Tabitha said. “I’ll take care of her Eric. Don’t worry, your Auntie took care of you when you were ill as a child and I would do the same for this poor young woman.”

“I appreciate it Aunt Tabitha. I really do. I didn’t know who else to call. The workers wanted nothing to do with her.They thought she had some awful disease the way she appeared to them.”

Tabitha gave a harsh laugh. “Ha, those locals are full of stories and superstitions which have no basis in reality. This woman will be fine. When I clean her up a bit and later when she can wash her hair, I imagine she’s a beautiful girl, Eric. I hope the man who died in that plane crash wasn’t her boyfriend.”

“ I don’t know . . .” Eric said softly. “I’ll leave you too it.” I heard him walk away and a door shutting.

 I was awake but not fully. I faded in and out of feverish dreams, nightmares where I was trapped in a never ending forest. No animals in sight. Nothing edible and carrying no water. Only dead silence filling my ears.

I was dressed in a bra and panties and had nothing else on — not even shoes. Darkness descended and it began to snow and my body was wracked by cold as the wind picked up and the snow built up around me. I couldn’t move. I was so cold I was frozen stiff like an ice sculpture; I shrieked aloud.

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Eons pass where I am stuck inbetween what’s real and what’s in my dreams. I dream about my Mom and Dad, how worried they would be about me. I know it’s been past two-weeks now since the plane crash. My feaver hasn’t abated for days but Aunt Tabitha dutifully stays at my side. At night there is a hired nurse. A thin bird-like woman who doesn’t speak English but sees to my needs. 

Aunt Tabitha is with me whenever she can be. I’m aware of her reading on her tablet. Sometimes she reads to me, but I want to tell her she’s only giving my mind more material for nightmares. 

I know she has asked me my name several times but I have trouble finding a voice strong enough to answer her when I feel semi-lucid. Only when nightmares overwhelm me do I scream and plead for them to stop using my voice loudly.

Today my head feels much clearer. I look to see the IV attached to my arm and am thankful it’s giving me nutrients because I think food would repulse me right now. With heavy eyes I scan the room. Strangely, Aunt Tabitha isn’t here. 

I move my head and neck gently, testing my muscles which ache from being in bed too long and from hiking through the woods. I wiggle my toes and stretch my legs. I straighten my arms infront of me and put my arms above my head, stretching my whole body like a cat. I feel a jolt of pain in my side.

Pain throughout my body becomes apparent. Bruises and scrapes mostly. I look at my one wrist and see it’s wrapped in a bandage.I must have sprained it. I’m not sure why I didn’t notice when the sprain occurred.

I feel dirty and have the urge to scrub my body until my skin is pink. A bath would be heavenly. My hair is limp and greasy on my head, I can’t remember ever having hair this scungy. 

I lean up in bed regarding the room around me. It’s a large bedroom and the room,  a work of art and design. The room has a peaceful ambiance, painted in grey-blue.

The furniture including the head board behind me is bleached wood like drift wood from the ocean. I feel relaxed in this place, gazing towards a giant white window with a padded blue window seat full of pillows matching my bed’s dark ink blue duvet and silver and white striped sheets.

I haven’t seen the sun in days. The bright white light of the sun bathes me through the window, but is too bright for my eyes. I shade my face with my hand and gaze in awe at the lush greeness of the mansions front yard. They’re fountains and flowers in the distance.

“Wow,” I say and my voice feels gravelly. I start saying random words and sentences aloud to make my voice sound normal but I can’t seem to rid my voice of its weakness.

 I raise my body into a sitting position, crossing my legs under the bed covers. My body cooperates slowly and with aches, but I manage. 

I have decided to have a bath or showe.  I’m certain I can stand and walk. On careful feet as if I were a toddler, I slip out of the bed and start walking to the bathroom I spied at the end of the room. 

It feels so far away at first but my legs remember how to walk quickly and my steps are more assured as I go. Resting against the door frame, I peer into the bathroom.

There is a large tiled glass shower with a wooden bench inside; I am thankful for the bench.The bathroom is designed well with a heavy marble countertop, twin sinks, and dark blue cabinets underneath the counter. A vanity table near by, holds a few cosmetics, clearly for a woman. The toilet is inside a closet in the corner of the bathroom.

I drop my clothes on the wood floor, carefully removing them as my muscles are still sore. The loose grey sweat pants and large white T-shirt are far too roomy to be my clothing and I leave them on the floor.

 I open up the shower door and hobble over to the bench where I sit turning on the shower nozzle convienantly located near my head. The shower is hot, too hot at first. But the showerhead gives a cleansing rainfall shower. I sigh in pleasure as the water washes over me. Picking up a puff hanging on the wall, I squirt jasmine scented Dior body wash on it. I scrub my body free of natures dirt and fevers sweat. 

My body’s skin is as pink as I imagined, when I reach for Dior face wash and volumizing shampoo. I wash my hair four-times before I’m satisfied it’s clean and I condition it, letting the conditioner soak into my dry long brunette strands before washing it out. The sun has caused some of my brunette strands to bleach blond.

When I’m done washing, I relax and let the hot rainfall water run massaging my muscles which ache. I stay inside the shower longer then necessary but I haven’t felt this well in forever.

 “Are you ever coming out?” a deep voice asks outside the shower chuckling.

I gasp and quickly turn the shower off fumbling. I cover myself with my hands uselessly. Eric is outside the glass shower and I’m naked inside, no towel within reach.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Literary Lion: The Cheater


 

http://www.wisegeek.org
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 I haven’t slept,

I’m here waiting, 

For you to wake-up,

A pool of drool sits beneath,

Your wide open mouth,

I don’t know what I saw in you,

I came home last night,

I didn’t expect to see,

Her lying beside you,

I walked into the bedroom,

She looked at me, said:

” He’s disgusting when he drools.”

You had too much rye.

Didn’t hear us pack your things.

Your girl moved in, 

I don’t blame her for you,

You didn’t say, I’ve a girlfriend.

Now it’s time for you to leave,

But first clean up your pool,

Of drool on my floor.

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Word Count: 97 words

Thanks to I Smith Words for the prompt pool in a story of 100 words.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: The Symphony


It’s easy enough to put your head down,

To not look where your going.

To bury your nose in a book.

It’s easy to live vicariously through a story,

But it’s certainly harder to form your own.

To look up and see the sun through the drapes,

As it brightens a path where the world is calling,

To  wake up and feel the wind in your hair,

To feel the heat, sit on the grass, and smell possibility.

But it’s hard to get up and awake from a slumber,

The kind where you wish to flip over and  go back to bed.

But life keeps on calling, while we are stalling,

Wake up and make some decisions.

Don’t live your life with vacant eyes and heart.

Breathe in the certainty that life has a meaning and it’s going somewhere.

So, put on some shoes and walk with determination.

It’s time to listen to the music and become part of the symphony.

Poetry: Sleep


All I want is sleep

A respite from the light

But insomnia comes at a heavy price

Drugs and pills, you need more and more

And I still wake up in the night

Is it a crime to sleep through the night?

I think it must be so

I beg in tears please let me go

Let me fall asleep again

Your screwing with my life

Because then I’m tired all day

Please let me sleep I’m only human

And I beg for a moment to close my eyes

To sleep to mornings light

And wake up feeling refreshed

But right now it’s so hard to get up

I want to sleep all day

Because at night I lie awake

God, grant me sleep

I’m begging you, 

No sleep, it ruins my days.