Animals/Pets, Black Out, Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo Day 18: Poem – Blackout – “The Cave” #amwriting #poetry 


For OctPoWriMo Day 18 I’ve chosen my own prompt of blackout poetry. 

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Go to places on Earth,

The most extreme environments. 

Track down Arizona in Death Valley, 

On the shores beneath iceshelf[s]. 

Desert some island north to find, [un]Imaginable trips to batt-ridden cave[s]. 

Studying environments where a human would, 

Cross the cosmos, other planets, 

Undeterred by Face-smashing, 

By the constant wetness, the darkness.

The slight possibility that whatever, 

Exotic diseases, might enter, [still] ask —

If [they’re] encountering [the] unknown.

We think it’s moderately unlikely, 

[As the] cave floor with water of varying depths, 

[Has no] transparency, [so we] walk gingerly,

To avoid discovering unmapped water. 

A walk in the park — no ropes, just some crawling, 

Eventually reach[ing the] deepest chamber. 

Spun webs, bat’s zagged and zinged, 

Emitting their high pitch. 

Red rock walls with green slime, 

Gypsum paste and limestone in process, 

Dissolved by sulfuric acid [became apparent.]

I was thinking, 

This cave resembled [nature] lobbying

[For people to] recognize [its vast hidden meanings].

—— 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 
 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction/Taleweaver:  The Down Pour #flashfiction #taleweaver #amwriting 


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weaver #137 on the theme of opening and what that word could mean. Also, thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction September 10, 2017. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

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Min peered at the downpour outside her front window. The rain added to the river’s violent movements beneath her house. 

When she and her son, Sam had moved here, Min hadn’t thought the river below them was dangerous. She’d believed the quiet river had brought her serenity. It’s gentle babble once opened Min’s mind to dreaming. 

However, later that night the river water was at the bottom of Min’s house. She groaned when water began trickling in over the wood floor and carpets. 

“We have to leave now,” Min told Sam, “The water keeps climbing and if we leave it too long we’ll be trapped on the roof.” 

Sam tried his mom’s cellphone. “The cell towers are down so we can’t even call for help. We shouldn’t have stayed, Mom. We should’ve left days ago.” 

Min rubbed Sam’s shoulder before they both grabbed their pre-packed bags rushing out the front door. They had no choice but to wade through water that was hip deep. They sloshed down the bridge/walkway created between all the house’s built above the river. 

When Min and Sam had reached higher ground away from their neighborhood, they sighed collapsing on cots in a school where some of the city’s refugees had began gathering. The river water had been up to Min and Sam’s neck before they had been able to climb uphill, away from the bridge. 

Thank God they had taken the opportunity to leave when they did. Having a moment to spare Min stepped outside and prayed her thanks beneath the open sky and endless rain. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: That Forever Scent #amwriting #fiction #memories #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting the current #100WordWednesday. My apologies this week a hundred words turned into a few hundred that could not be cut. 

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Credit: Bikurgurl

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The balmy August air, humid and filled with scent of sand and the lake was a smell I would never forget. Years later, I’d be sitting on my chair in the nursing home  and that peculiar fragrance mixed with your cologne would suddenly take me back. 

I was leaning against the ice cream stand, watching various kids play in the lake. The line up for ice cream had been long but I wasn’t picky about my ice cream flavor — anything chocolate would do. The server presented me with a gigantic three-scoop ice cream cone but had no idea how I’d eat it all. The server told me that the gentleman behind me had paid for it, but gazing back I had no idea which guy he meant. 

Then, I went and I hid ( where I am now) behind the ice cream stand. That’s when the scent of sea and sand, and of sunscreen was heightened by the somehow familiar scent of your subtle cologne, citrusy and woodsy, mixed with the fragrances of the beach. It was a heavenly and sexy scent. It even overwhelmed the taste of the chocolate ice cream. My eyes closed inhaling your forever scent.

Minutes later, I opened them and you were there, leaning against the building beside me. Sharp indigo eyes and all smooth muscles and toned arms that were lightly tanned. You were devouring a three-scoop cone of Tiger ice cream as you stood watching me, reaching out only to wipe the melted chocolate away from dribbling down my hand. Even then, you were always gentle. 

But I felt your touch through the napkin, saw the light stubble on your cheeks and your full lips as you come close for a moment. Your divine cologne mingling with the smells of the lake, made my legs weak and you knew it too. There was laughter in your deep-blue eyes. 

“I can’t eat anymore of this you know?”  I said looking dubiously at the half melted cone. 

You chuckled, still staring at me,”It’s okay, but you’ve got some chocolate here,” you said wiping it off the corner of my lips with your thumb. 

I could hardly breath. The memory, the feelings, they were so intense. I wanted to be anywhere else but on the beach at that moment. I wanted to be somewhere private with you. 

It was a dreamlike memory, but this dream had once been our reality — our meet-cute. Later as we chatted I recalled you stroking my arms with a feather soft touch. You threw my melted icecream away, tangling your hands in my long hair. Bending down your lips meant mine, again and again. Intoxicated I devoured your scent comingled with the beach, the water, and the taste of your mouth.

 I missed you still. 

Hours later, I was awake in my chair in my room at the nursing home. I wondered if on the otherside you’d be there to meet me soon. If that same scent that made my knees weak so long ago, could be felt again as you you would smile with warm bedroom eyes and gentle concern. I hoped you and I could be together again in the celestial here-after as we had once been in life; friends and lovers both. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Free Verse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

SaturdayMix/Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Desert Bloom” #amwriting #poetry #saturdaymix


Thanks to Teresa from MindLoveMisery’s for hosting Saturday Mix focused on directly describing a character. I’m combining this prompt with NEKNEERAJ’s Photo Challenge also of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie.

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Credit: Reylia.deviantart.com

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Sand granules, 

Swirl against, 

Filmy white cloth. 

As Easter Lillies,

Twice as soft, 

Cashmere lips. 

Intrepid eyes, 

Jade green jewels. 

Her beating heart, 

Tender, mild. 

Struggling but still, 

Enduring the grit,

Sand specs blinding, 

Clever and thoughtful. 

She sees through,

Dust storms. 

Crassness of sand, 

Grates skin’s softness. 

Beauty blooms in,

The desert, 

Seeming so frail. 

Strength of pyramids, 

Beneath gauzy veil.

Harsh elements,

Struggling just, 

For water, 

For survival. 

So a small mouth can drink, 

So a mother’s mouth,

Can smile. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Blitz poem - 48 Lines, Friday Music Prompt, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Music Prompt # 8: Poem – Blitz – ” Real Violent Ocean” based off of “Calm Before the Storm” by Sarah Ross #amwriting #poetry #musiccprompt 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Friday’s music challenge. It was based on the song ” Calm Before the Storm” by Sarah Ross. 

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Calm Before the Storm” – Sarah Ross

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Calm before the storm

Calm perceived, not real

Real quiet, crows flying 

Real quiet, eerie silence 

Silence is all you deserve

Silence before your fall

Fall from saving grace 

Fall from your glories

Glories were lies 

Glories were false promises 

Promises fade, are taken away 

Promise, the storm will be fierce 

Fierce as the rain drowning your voice

Fierce as the thunder screaming 

Screaming across the darkest skies 

Screaming as lightening fires 

Fires and hits you, sparks 

Fires right between your eyes, terrified 

Terrified of the calm before the storm 

Terrified when I warned —

Warned you little boy

Warned you as clouds turned grey, too late —

Too late to hold your breath

Too late as water cleanses, drowns

Drowns your pleading voice

Drowns her cursed moans that flew

Flew freely, you cannot hide

Flew undisguised, I heard surprised? 

Surprised the worst ain’t happened yet

Surprised the storm intensifies 

Intensifies my thirst for revenge, 

Intensifies my grief, you only see 

See the calm before the storm 

See the sky ominous red 

Red as rage, passion emblazed
Red as my ripped apart heart

Heart of the storm rises 

Heart of mine wishes you gone 

Gone your presence 

Gone, don’t let your presence be prolonged

Prolongs my misery 

Prolongs, such hatred brewing 

Brewing tornado in your trailer park

Brewing in the marsh, a wild storm 

Storms create, deep dank of cruel life

Storms erupt in my tranquil ocean. 

Ocean forms my monstrous storm, 

Life, you paid the price in my maelstrom. 

—-

The Blitz Poem: 

This form of poetry is a stream of short phrases and images with repetition and rapid flow. 
Begin with one short phrase, it can be a cliché. Begin the next line with another phrase that begins with the same first word as line 1. The first 48 lines should be short, but at least two words.
The third and fourth lines are phrases that begin with the last word of the 2nd phrase, the 5th and 6th lines begin with the last word of the 4th line, and so on, continuing, with each subsequent pair beginning with the last word of the line above them, which establishes a pattern of repetition. 
Continue for 48 total lines with this pattern. The last two lines repeat the last word of line 48, then the last word of line 47.

The title must be only three words, with some sort of preposition or conjunction joining the first word from the third line to the first word from the 47th line, in that order.

For more information see Shadow Poetry.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesdays, Event, Flash Fiction, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesdays: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Living Small Dreams” #100WordWednesdays #flashfiction #poetry


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting this week’s #100WordWednesdays.

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Credit: Jessie Williams Via Unsplash

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Deep night and the darkness should seem mean, 

But in day time light exposes, reveals. 

The tranquil night holds me and conceals, 

I’m finding that black pitch, it redeems.

Souls in the day ashamed of life’s greeds, 

Broken, lost, but I’m more than what I seem. 

I’m like you, I have fond hopes and wild dreams.

More basic, I just want to have life’s needs. 

Water, food, health insurance, no delusions. 

Meds so I’m like you, not fearing night screams, 

Not having nightmares on cold streets mean. 

A homeless woman, battered, unseemly, 

Wishing for small things, a roof and hygiene. 

Wishing you’d help, want out of here, achieving —

Life where I don’t struggle but live small dreams. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing, Writing Challenges

First Line Fridays: Heat Panic #FLF #fiction #amwriting


Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting FLF.

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Credit:Thomas Shelberg via UnSplash

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Three hours into the desert [Sandra felt the jeep’s] engine choke and buckle, rolling dark smoke into the pale blue sky.

“Are you kidding me?” Sandra asked her husband Jim. “We’re going to the Grand Canyon something people do all the time from Vegas and the damn Barbie jeep breaks down? Don’t they maintain these things, check that they’re working before they leave us in the open desert?”

Jim gazed at his wife his eyes half closed. The temperature was a sizzling 45 degrees Celsius and growing up in Toronto’s cold winters meant he didn’t handle the heat well. Sandra’s harping made Jim feel that much worse, sweating prufesly in the leather seat beside her. 

“Jim, Jim? Are you even listening to me? How long is it going to take for them to send another jeep? Why is everyone else so mellow about this? It gets cold in the desert at night and what about the snakes and scorpions?”

Jim groaned out load and Sandra gave him a dirty look. “Sandy, its hot right now,” he mumbled. “We’ve no air conditioning and if it gets cold soon that would be great for everyone. I’m sure the tour company will find us soon. Our jeep’s Barbie pink as you say.”

“Oh and could you calm down? You’re frightening the elderly couples,” he said whispering into Sandra’s ear as to not offend the two couples nearby. 

Sandra gave Jim a weird look then continued yapping. The tour guides who had been on the radio the last hour with their company were now glaring at Sandra as they too sufferered in the heat and from her constant questions. 

The older couples had it the worst, Jim thought. No one wanted any of them to undergo heat stroke since the temperature  seemed to affect the four of them the most. Sandra’s constant complaining wasn’t helping the matter. 

“Simmer down, lady,” one guide told Sandra,”This happens sometimes. Another jeep is a couple of hours away, if you can control yourself until then.”

Sandra didn’t care, she kept talking. 

Jim was surprised when a lady in her seventies, named Meg, smacked Sandra’s face hard. So hard he could see the red outline of the woman’s hand on Sandra’s sweaty cheek. Sandra was so shocked she didn’t say another word except to ask for a bottle of water every couple of hours. 

Megan winked at Jim and said: “Nothing like a good smack in the face. I think the heat was getting to your wife. She seems to be okay now that I smacked her and that she’s drinking water instead of talking.” Jim laughed bumping fists with feisty Meg.

“Okay?” Jim asked Sandra later. 

“Yeah good now, just a little panic attack I think. The heat was getting to me.”

Jim laughed at this stroking Sandra’s back. 

The evening sky in the desert turned from twilight into glittering black with giant stars. All eight people in the jeep sighed with pleasure as the blistering heat cooled and they were awed by the fantastic celestial bodies. 

When another pink jeep arrived the next morning, no one complained about the heat or Sandra. Both problems had been eclipsed by the perfect temperature and the starry night viewed under them. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Quotes, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 25 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/Writing Prompt: Poem – Cascading Etherees — “The Urn, Death, and the Light” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #WritingChallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is a “challenge you to write a poem that explores a small, defined space.” For A to Z Challenge the GoodRead’s Quote author has a name beginning with letter V. Im going two work in the Prompt from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Prompt from last week of a letter to death

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Credit: Tomb of Wayfaring Soul

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It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

———

Such a tiny space I’ve ended in,

No satin lining, pillow, or light. 

Shelved next to others kept, 

Hear in this wall, directed, 

The family not to pay for, 

More than an urn, 

But why, ask I, 

Am I in, 

This wall, 

Left.

—–

It’s, 

Easy,

To understand, 

You didn’t want me —

Reminding  you, who I —

Used to be alive and whole. 

That my ashes in an urn could,

Easily fall, ending up on the floor. 

I’m wondering death, if you laugh at this? 

——

If you comprehend my annoyance clear, 

That my ashes weren’t scattered far  —

Into the park, the Off-leash trails, 

Or into the water, 

To a place of peace. 

No walls for me, 

Take my remains, 

Death, cast them —

To the, 

Wind. 

——-

At, 

First I, 

Had many, 

Questions, 

But I knew you took, 

All you needed of, 

What was left of me. 

And we’re no longer foes who are — 

Bound to time; so you explain the whys,

Fill in the wherefores, gazing ahead soft. 

——

Kingdom of light, love, facing the Heavens,

Death says this is the right place and —

I pray he isn’t wrong, for all —

Is revealed here in the —

House me Father built. 

His mansion with —

Many rooms for —

The faithful, 

Those souls, 

Won. . 

——

So, 

Death you —

Have not your, 

Victory. 

Death you have no sting, 

And in eternity, 

All questions are answered, 

Tranquility comes knowing, 

The reason for everything —

The cross on Calvery, God’s love divine. 

——–


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Free Verse, History, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 12 – NaPoWriMo/ A to Z Challenge/FFfAW: Poem – Free Verse – “The River’s Course” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge #poetry #flashfiction


Today’s NaPoWriMo is to “write a poem that explicitly incorporates alliteration (the use of repeated consonant sounds) and assonance (the use of repeated vowel sounds).” For A to Z Challenge the GoodReads quote is from the letter L. As well, thanks to Pricless Joy for hosting FFftAW.


Water and Rocks FFftAW
Credit: Maria of Doodles and Scribbes

“The thing about love is that you will never run out of it. It’s an ever-flowing river. So go ahead and LOVE. What are you saving all this love for — death?”
Kamand Kojouri


 

The river she flows fluent, flourishing in her mad descent,

Rapids, water reeling past rocks leading her to a path of providence.

Fast, and fleet, a river rivaling; I’ve experienced —

On the weary trail, the river cutting, crushing the rocks.

She carves her path, ploughing silt to the shore,

Debris of dramatic, erosion deciding on the the crooked carved path.

The water, she must flow, finding her fabulous spark in the light of —

Lumionous sunlight, searing in the afternoon heat.

For this river runs through the desert, the orange, organic trails,

Mixed with red-rock, rizing in the Arizona afternoon.

Cliffs creating a canyon so deep and wide, where the water dances through.

No one to stop her destruction of rock, her pounding so hard it hurts,

But the river rivals all, keeps on carving her way —

Through the canyon cringing, when she chops off more silt.

Off its brilliant fire, she finds a place where the —

River rests in waterfalls crashing and carniverous,

Then she wanes as she reaches shore and and lays back breathing,

At ease, she is pleased and settles,

Against the sand of some beach, somewhere; she’s oblivious —

Simply sliding against sand,

No more cutting of solid rock required,

Tranquility is in the tide, easing in and out,

The river finds, rests with her lover,

Her and the shore are silent heart beats.


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Are Reserved.

Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Health, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Wrapped Refrain, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Wrapped Refrain (1) – “The End of The Dock” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction #mentalhealth


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: Jules Paige

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At the end of the dock, will she find —

Her own end? Will she find a kind —

Soul who wants to save a lost one?

There’s nothing new under the sun,

She doesn’t want to reach the dock’s ledge to jump —

Into water, to drown, heart ceasing its thumping. 

——–

No one thinks they could reach this point,

No one sees beyond their own point.

Blind to the sad, anxious hoping,

Someone will throw her a life rope.

If she knew how to swim, maybe she could fight back?

Maybe she could cling to life even when attacked?

—–

She’s no superheroe who’s bent,

On killing her nemesis.

Her demons struggle within hid,

She keeps them sealed under tight lid.

Support her, help her, light the shadow of the lost,

No one knows when she cries, it’s not easy to stop.

—–

Waves inside her — tempestuous

They’re crippling waves, regardless

Beyond her sadness, waking up,

Worse than ignorance unjust.

Your lack of thought, with no empathy — she’s pleading,

You don’t try to learn or listen, she keeps bleeding.

——-

She said,”Not to judge a book by —

It’s pretty cover, how it looks.”

She pleads, “Listen to Atticus,

Walk around in my skin,” pick —

Wisely how you react; she’s scared of descending,

At the end of the dock, desperate to not be.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.