100 Word Wednesdays, Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: Poem -Free Verse – “He Flew” #amwriting #poetry #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays 

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Credit: Nicolas Picard

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Doing tricks, 

On his skateboard, 

Young boy. 

On banana board, 

Travelling fast, 

Down paved roads. 

Swerving before cars, 

Smashed him. 

On the Merry-Go-Round, 

Flying off, 

Into the afternoon sun. 

On ground, 

Never crying. 

More stitches;

He didn’t mind. 

Snowboard, 

Flipping, turning, 

Off half-pipes. 

Black diamond hills, 

Rushing towards. 

Bright-white powdered snow. 

Matress softening, 

Terrible falls. 

Breaking legs, 

Collar bone, arms. 

On his bike, 

At the skateboard park, 

Flying as a new robin. 

Wings wavering, 

Into unforgiving air. 

Didn’t care if he, 

Landed on his head. 

Concussions, 

Some awful, 

Even with a helmet. 

Bruises deep purple, 

Fractures, sprains —

All painful. 

Wherever he went, 

Whatever he did, 

He flew. 

No one ever, 

Expected him, 

Not to. 

He should’ve been, 

Born with wings, 

But he wasn’t. 

He flew, 

Just the same. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Current Events, Health, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Notable Quotes Part Two July 2017 #quotes #pinterest 


Welcome to the second half of notable Quotes. May you find inspiration, hope, and honesty in these quotes. Remember she is for the most part replaceable with he. Happy Wedding to my cousin and in two days I’m 32-Years -old. I’m excited and not. Lol. 

1. Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Fairy Tale Themed, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Nature, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Dragon Keeper #amwriting #flashfiction #dragons 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF last week! 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alastair Forbes

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Leisbeth crooned to her pet dragon, Brand. She had raised him from when he was nothing but a babe, pushing his way out of his golden egg. 

Brand would never be a huge dragon, but he was worth a lot of money to many people.  His scales, his wings, and his teeth were valuable so Leisbeth protected him. She cared for his wounds from hunting for large animals and after locals injured him.

Despite being gentle, Leisbeth could be fierce. She knew she was fragile, but she possessed a gift, sorcery not even Brand knew she possessed.

In turn, Brand was Leisbeth’s protector. He knew she was a soft woman, her voice small and melodic. Her hands uncalloused and her long blond hair shiny and flowing. All these traits of beauty put her in danger. 

She knew nothing of the cruel world, that men spilled blood, both dragon and human for small amounts of silver. Brand still remembered the screams of his dragon parents slaughtered, as he fought his way from his golden egg. He was tiny then, but he remembered their terrified roars. 

However, Liesbeth had saved him so they would always be together. Brand would protect her inherit gentleness while she would guard him with her magic. Those who would hurt her intelligent companion would regret it. 

To Leisbeth, Brand was her friend who in private, loved to be held and stroked. Both their abilities would keep the other alive for thousands of years. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

dVerse, Fiction, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Poem – Free Verse – “The a Hobbit Hole” #poetry #flashfiction #dVerse #amwriting 


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF. Also thanks to Paul of Poet’s Pub for hosting a #dVerse poem in the form of a blessings poem. 

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Credit: Erick Wicklund

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There are days,

I cannot think, I’m trapped, 

Cornered as a sleek red fox, 

The Predator’s main course. 

Searching for my escape, 

Running through the woods. 

Tripping on my, 

Shaking aching legs. 

Adrenaline quicksilver, 

Sliding through my veins. 

Lungs gasping;

A haunted, hunted child. 

By chance, by divinity, 

A blessing found, 

My ‘hobbits hole.’ 

My home sweet home;

A hiding place, 

To wait out enemies, 

Gnashing, clashing, 

With pointed teeth. 

Vicious men of ill repute, 

Fortune or fate despise. 

A crook in a fallen tree; 

A hole to spy for danger, 

As I veil myself beneath, 

Thick leaved branches, 

Cut from surrounding trees, 

Snuggled in my hobbits hole, 

Wishing Lord God, 

Bless me in my tiny hiding place. 

Leave me unconfronted, 

Unfound, an illusion —

Of invisibility to threats.

Basking in your security, 

Graciously provided, 

Let this not be the end. 

And I could’ve been wrong, 

I could’ve lost hope, 

I could’ve been dinner;

Torn apart by savage beasts. 

But serenity entered, 

On angel’s transparent wings, 

Calmed my heart, quickening. 

While the peace that —

Passes all understanding; 

Surrounded and enfolded me. 

When the dread made, 

 My skin crawl. 

When I bit my lip drawing blood, 

Sharp teeth approaching, 

A beast breathing  heavily, 

A brutal carnivore. 

Wickedness sure to devour; 

But he found me not, 

I was blessed, I was safe. 

Invisible to the lion, 

Remaining in my hobbit hole, 

Fortitudes fortress, 

My hiding place. 

And when all was safe, 

 Morn’s light illuminated. 

The dread of frights, 

Of the forest night, 

The predators that maim, 

And kill, disappeared into, 

The earth’s bowels. 

I prayed, gave thanks, 

And into sunlight I fled, 

The prey who survived. 

So blessed with life, 

Living to fight another night, 

Another beast, 

Serenity my companion, 

My relief. 

——–

©Mandobelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

dVerse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quadrille - 44 Words, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quadrille- “Celestial Wings” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. Thanks to MISH of #dVerse Poet’s Pub for hosting this week’s #dVerse poetry prompt. The meaning of a particular sign or symbol. 


Credit: Axcy via Deviantart

Credit: Misha dVerse

 

Dawn’s effervescent brilliance,

Twilight’s ease to ink.

Stars, indulgent jewels,

Delicate glass traced.

Universe brimming,

Nebulas gleaming.

Celestial diamonds.

Drifting where signs,

Vibrate without liberty.

Forget repression,

A soul weighted;

Ethereal form found.

Torn Chinese lanterns,

Flight imminent.

No more signs,

Imprisonment or labor.

Be done,

So I can glide,

Fingers stroking,

Celestial wings humming.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, dVerse, Fiction, Finish Off Fridays/Saturday Mix FlashFiction, Lai - 5,5.2 - 3 sets, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix: Poem – Lai – “What If?” #amwriting #dVerse #poetry #saturdaymix


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix with an “What If . .  .” prompt theme. I’m combining this prompt with a #dVerse prompt from Victoria C. Slotto, to do a form of poetry called a ‘Lai.’ 

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Credit: Magical Sky Gallery

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What if the sky was —

Bright pink? Not blue but —

Hot Pink.

What if during storms, 

Sky’s turned scarlet poured, 

Red wine. 

What if elephants soared, 

Wings, ears flapping; trump

eting

What if those with eyes,

Blue or Green now had, 

Pink eyes? 

Bright orbes reflecting, 

Sky violat purple,

with clouds. 

What if words meant, 

Flowed easily came,

Out swell? 

Perfect words; but what —

If all birds talked,

Squabbled

If dogs spoke human? 

Understood confessions, 

You’ ve shared.

What if tomorrow, 

The sky hailed childhood, 

Bubblegum

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The Lai (as we will play with it) a nine-line poem or stanza that uses an “a” and “b” rhyme following this pattern:

aab

aab

aab.

The lines with an “a” rhyme use 5 syllables; the “b” rhyme lines only have 2 syllables:

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©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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quatrains – “Tale of The Floating Bride” #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to NEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge prompt. 

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Credit: Zhangjinga.com

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Enchanting child in slumber keep, 

Red hair surrounds you as you sleep. 

I wait for you to wake from your dreams, 

No longer a porcelain doll preened. 

*****

A wedding gown white lace so frothy, 

Mother hoped your match was lofty.

That you’d found your life partner, 

Your prince, your man, for life to start.

*****

But day by day you grew sad, 

When pressed with his kisses ran. 

Empty feeling inside you grew, 

Like a butterfly away flew.

*****

Mischievous child, pain grew, 

His fist at your face straight-on flew. 

Hiding the bruises with powder,

Not even concealer shrouds

*****

Pride vital to you, tiny doll, 
Escaped; no one to catch your fall.
Fly in dreams with delicate wings, 

Winter ends, it’s soon your spring. 

*****

Gather your courage –call it off;

Don’t marry him, don’t be soft.

In front of the crowd, show each cut, 

Let them see bruises, you must. 

*****

So they know an abuser, 

Isn’t good enough, he’s a loser. 

He broke your velvet wings, 

Your sanity held by strings. 

*****

But it was too late even then, 

The lake too close; so your end.

Now you float, butterfly who swims, 

Eternity of light your win. 

*****

We tried to save a doll of glass, 

But on death she shattered, passed. 

Down below the water’s dark depth,

She’s tranquil, free; although, she leapt. 

*****

Mind too distorted, destroyed, 

Lover’s hands threw her like a toy.

World tough; his madness changed them both, 

In Heaven she smiles free to float. 

*****

He mourns her death each day, each drink, 

Pretty soon his rage him too sinks. 

Accidents happen to the unaware, 

She pulled him in, drowned his despair. 

—– 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Actor/ Actress, Beauty, Children/YA/Family, Fairy Tale Themed, Fiction, Free Verse, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

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Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

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As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

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Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

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You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

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Credit: Laces and Tiaras

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Writing

Poem: Quatrains: “What Never Heals”


broken-heart
http://www.pinterest.com

“I know that’s what people say– you’ll get over it. I’d say it, too. But I know it’s not true. Oh, you’ll be happy again, never fear. But you won’t forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him.” 

― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

******

One day you promised me the pain,

Would eventually heal, I’d be —

Free from photographs and the shame.

While I am here, tears streaming.


Out of my mind, of my head,

Did you burn memories seething?

They never left my soul, they’re undead,

While I’m here, tears streaming.


You and her, it’s the cut deepest,

Never heals, it bleeds; you beaming

A baby’s breath; life makes me weak.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


At times, I’m over you completely,

Then, an image leaves me grieving.

Heart of the girl, a heart too sweet.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


Conversation wouldn’t aid, I —

Learn to sew up all broken seams.

Especially in sleep, where I cry,

While I’m here, tears streaming.


A few hours, a few days and —

I’ll be fine again —breathing.

Didn’t have much, nothing so grand.

While I’m here, tears streaming.


Let go, let me free, unburden me,

Stop snipping my wings, inhaling

The past’s ashes, it chokes me,

I was here, tears dried; now I’m free.


 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.