Day 15 #NaPoWriMo/ Saturday Mix: Poem – Triquin Chain – “She’s A Witch” #amwriting #SaturdayMix #poetry


For Day 15 NaPoWriMo the Prompt is: “writing a poem in which a villain faces an unfortunate situation, and is revealed to be human (but still evil).” I’m combining with Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie ‘s Saturday Mix Prompt on Triquains.

Triquain Chain

A string of 2 to 4 Triquains, a space between each triquain.

2 stanzas – 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3

3 stanzas – 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3

4 stanzas – 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, 3

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Credit:Lucas Sanky via Unsplash

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She’s a witch,

She burns and she twitches.

Fire glows, sparks raise, burn high into morn.

She doesn’t feel, because she’s real; she burns all day.

Clergy stoke fire, she doesn’t expire;

The rabble wish her pain —

She’s a witch.

But not finished her time,

For real spell-casters can’t be murdered.

They drowned her, she floated; they hung her, her neck snapped.

Then, when they untied her, she laughed;

Her neck clicked in place, her spine healed fast.

She’s a witch.

*****

She burns fields.

She’s not kind, far too real.

She misled children, gave everyone pox.

It wasn’t her plan, to be mean and vile –to kill;

But those ‘Holier-Than-Thou’ tortured —

Dismembered her family —

Powerless.

They untouched with dark arts.

And all those woman not real villains,

Masked in their veins wasn’t witchcraft or evil brews.

Perhaps, they were too pretty, too —

Wealthy; had much power.

Then, she flipped.

***

She’s truly —

A witch; they made her one.

They buried her alive, let her sink,

Chocking in the putrid river with their repulsive waste.

She’s seen the flesh on innocents burn crisp;

The crackle of their hair.

Tied as she,

On a pier, with hellfire;

To destroy her vengeance, her wrathful ways.

She’s evil, sins with peasants, priests, their hateful hearts.

Cursing their Lords, besieging her home;

Survives fire, lives to smite,

Twisted witch.

****

——–

©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Three Line Tales: The Monty Hall Problem #amwriting #mathsucks #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales. Sorry, a bit of cheat with this one, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head for the photograph. I think it’s 4 or 5 sentences. But who’s counting. 😉


Credit: Jerry Kiesewetter via Unsplash


Say, there’s a million dollars in one green box (ignore the yellow boxes), and there’s Monopoly money in all the other green boxes, but you don’t know what green box has the million dollars, and what boxes have Monopoly money.

You select green box number 7 as the box (you guess) has the million dollars, but it’s also revealed that in green box number 2, there’s only Monopoly money; do you choose a different green box or stay with green box number 7?

Many people would say, there’s a 50/50 chance your first choice is the correct green box with the million dollars, but they’d likely be wrong, and here’s why: There was a 3/4 (75 %) chance of you choosing a box with Monopoly money, and there’s still 1/2 (50 %) chance of you choosing the Monopoly money, when green box number 2 is revealed. There’s only 1/4 (25 %) chance of you choosing the million dollars; therefore, you should change your green box selection because there is a greater probability you were, initially, wrong choosing green box number 7, than choosing the green box that contained the million dollars.


Maybe some of you have heard of this? It’s called ‘The Monty Hall Problem.’ Check out the video here: The Math Question that Has Stumped Thousands of ‘ManSplainers.’ Apparently, men have greater trouble understanding this reasoning than women. What do you think?


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Notable Quotes July 2017 Part Three #pinterest #quotes


Welcome to Notable Quotes for the end of July 2017. ——-


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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Notable Quotes June 2017 Part Two #pinterest #quotes


More quotes for you again, hope you enjoy and remember that just because some quotes say “she” doesn’t mean they can’t apply to “he” in many situations. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 21 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /Music Prompt: Poem – Octaine Refrain – “Just Because You Can” #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge #MusicChallenge 


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt us “to write a poem that incorporates overheard speech, I’m using a part of song lyrics.” The A to Z Challenge for a GoodRead’s author’s Quote is for the letter R. Also I’m incorporating MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Music Prompt on the Dolly Parton Song “Jolene” performed recently with the a capella group Pentatonix. 

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Credit: http://www.bodybuilding.com Forums
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When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.” ― George R.R. Martin

——–

Please don’t take my man, just because you can, 

Your beauty is immeasurable, unique, 

I wish my man wasn’t who you were seeking. 

I know my request you don’t understand, 

You can love again and do it easily. 

I wish you didn’t make him feel so pleased, 

He loved me before your auburn hair strands, 

Brushed past his face, and made him so weak. 

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 
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Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 

Your voice so soft like summer rain, laughing, 

Your sense of humour for him attractive. 

You float through life a stunning star ambling, 

Not thinking of women like me you hurt. 

Your seduction done so freely, not worth —

The heartache you cause just because you can. 

I can’t love again, so value what you have, 

Please don’t take my man, just because you can. 

——–

“Jolene” – Dolly Parton and Pentatonix

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Rictameter – “The Angel” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry  


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode

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Here’s she,

His sweet angel,

Wearing her frothy gown,

She’s beautiful, elegant,

A wife any man could love or desire.

She’s the epitome, the standard,

What women should be like,

Humming music,

Here’s she.

——–

Her hair,

Perfectly coiffed,

Mother of six children,

Few lines on her face, she holds up.

Although, life’s pressure can be confining,

Her lips smile a gesture rehearsed.

What’s underneath in her —

Boarding school mind,

Her hair?

——

Model,

She’d wants all to —

Perceive she’s the perfect wife.

Society expects her to —

Set perfect example because —

She’s upperclass, the lead in the charade.

Acting as the moral —

Center, she must

Model

——

Portrait,

Of the great dame,

Her family, pride, joy,

Madame’s smile is slipping because,

Performing all the time is exhausting.

She wonders if she might sit with —

Port to sip, not thinking,

Herself; not a —

Portrait

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved

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.

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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.

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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

Collage Prompt: Poem – Tankas – “Not Perfect and Better For It” #amwriting #poetry #fiction 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s collage prompt.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Poor little Anne tried,

So hard to fit in; she can’t —

Conform to their look.

Sense of presence in her glance,

Terror; they don’t know freedom.

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Yet Anne tries and tries,

To be a cardboard box just —

Like all the others.

Left alone at recess eating,

Ripe oranges, she’s exotic fruit.

——

But they don’t invite —

Her to their parties, Anne cries,

She doesn’t see why,

She has to be so different,

A plant from foreign soil torn.

—-

Anne grows into her —

Self; she stops being afraid,

Sees her beauty is —

That she’s unique not like all,

Those other girls, loathing her.

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In grade school there’s this —

Small boy painted in war paint,

His Dad went to war,

He didn’t return home, saddened —

Anne helps him; he remembers —

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So years later they’re —

Attached — those girls all want him.

But his friend is his —

Love; she was with him,

All along; the handsome man,

Love’s different, not perfect Anne.

—–

Though she struggles hard,

Hoping for female friends, he says,

He loves imperfect her,

Because she doesn’t have to

Be ‘like them’; she can be good.

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Then she starts meeting —

Others, women who become —

Her tribe, with her guy.

The gazes of jealousy —

Double, but Anne doesn’t care.

——-

Anne is as a bird,

A swallow singing sweetly.

She’s lively, vivid;

Her eyes shine bright; he loves his —

Anne, contently, completely.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Black Out Prompt: Poem – Black Out – ” Not Roses” #amwriting #poetry #beauty #politics


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Black Out Prompt: 

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Credit: February 2017 INSTYLE Magazine

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Spring collection first shown, standout trends captivate. 

Pretty pink dresses, bandeau tops [are] proposed by influential, 

Femininity, classic ladylike variety reflected, underlying desire.

Creative support for the power and rights [of women], 

At a critical moment, clothes mirror complexity and chaos.

[A] new creative pointed statement, paying tribute, 

[Reminding us] attend the collection, printed with a line —

[It] leans [to] the left, favor[ing us] suffragettes. 

Explicit in making politics known, a reaction to unsettling results, 

 [Women and] fashion imagined entering a [new] season, 

Clothing playing [an] unexpected role, [our] viewpoints, [what] the world wears —

Becomes a political act. 

Interpretation, construeing message of inclusion, 

[There’s an] intention to celebrate women, 

We can all agree, [we need] be attentive and open to the world, to our creativity

[It] reflects our desiresembracing the imagery of strong, 

[What we wear is a] universal language women embrace. 

 [Your] engagement [demonstrates] how perceptions can change, 

Judged the same, we don’t assume shallow or [too] serious. 

Imagine in the coming years [unyielding] support, consider —

A contrary affect; [our] standards represent [our] enormous role. 

Perceive beauty’s responsibility taken seriously, 

Heartening to see interest in lives, so moved [knowing] —

We’re more and [moving forward with all] pioneering women, 

We’re not [merely] roses. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers: Fiction – Teegan’s Potion Part Four – The Beginning of Teegan’s Sanity #amwriting #fiction #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weaver Prompt. The prompt is to have a character visit this centre of relaxation and cover and recount their experiences. I will use it as continuation of my Teegan’s Potion story. This is Part 4. Here are the links to the other parts of the story. I apologize for taking so long with this last part. 

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Part 1 – Tallia, Her Magic Shop and The Stranger

Part 2 – Visiting Jude’s Magic Shop 

Part 3 – Teegan’s Potion and Passion (Rated R)

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Credit: Maria Skanig

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Teegan couldn’t recall ever being at a spa before or a place of retreat. But he hadn’t been given a choice. He was a thief, a crookster. He conned people out of their money, he had been doing so for a couple of hundred-years. 

He was almost nomadic, roaming the forests and the woods. He could not help when his curse took over him. He was learning to control it, but even to control it a little was difficult for the first one-hundred-years he lived as this ‘thing.’ Whatever you would term him. 

Teegan wasn’t sure himself what he was. But he knew when he was upset, he was still prone to rages where darkness, the shadow of the beast hiding inside him took over. He was in a little town when it happened this time. He’d been in a lodge having a bath, cleaning himself up, shaving his beard when his room was suddenly filled with men. They had come to collect him and in turn the bounty on his head for his years of murderous deeds. 

“Teegan of the Forest, we’ve been after you a while. My Father spent his life chasing you and my Grandfather, half his life too. I’m ending it here and bringing you in. You’re a plague on society. I don’t care you can control your wickedness at times. I only care when you’re angry you cannot,” a man named Henry Barger said. He was the brother to a son of the local earl, who had come across Teegan on a bad night. 

He vaguely recalled Henry’s father and grandfather, both had been named Henry and hunted him. It wasn’t Teegan’s fault they’d died. They kept pushing him, attacking him, refusing to leave him in peace. 

Presently, the men surrounding Teegan tried to rough him up, so he’d be easier to take the Earl of the land. But this wasn’t going to happen so he let his anger grow and consume him. In moments, Teegan’s bedroom had become a bloody battle field. Not one of those men had stood a chance. He hadn’t wanted to kill them, but what choice had they left him? Why in God’s name had the wretched wizard cursed him in the first place? He hadn’t been that evil had he? 

He sighed getting back in his still warm bath among the carnage, bathing himself clean of blood before changing his clothes. Teegan snuck out the window and with his wits about him, entered into the forest he knew well. 

—-

Hours later, he found himself surrounded again by monks from the local monastery. He laughed, but at the same time, definitely did not want to kill men of the cloth. 

“Please let me go,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt any of you. Especially since you’re holy men. Leave me in peace and you’ll never see me again.” 

A priest appeared from among the monks. His face lined but his stature regal. “Teegan of the forest, I know a great deal about you. I’m Father Matthews. I know you were cursed to live a long life, to suffer. I know what you initially did to invoke your curse. I’m not here to turn you in for coins to the Earl, I’ve come to save you.” 

“Save me, why?” 

“Because Teegan,” Father Matthew’s replied, ” More killing or trying to kill you, only results in more death. Also, I have a bit of insight into the souls of men and I can see, yours is shredded from your deeds. You will never be able to stop the monster inside alone. But I know someone, a woman of blessed magic who can.” 

Teegan rolled his eyes but Father Matthews continued talking.”I have spoken with Hazal and we both feel, she can help you. As long as you drink her potion twice a year with her, she says you will not turn evil when your temper ignites, when you’re unable to harness the beast inside you. We can help Teegan, please let us.” 

“I don’t want, I don’t need some witches help,” Teegan sputtered indignantly. 

“She’s not any witch and not pure evil as the Wizard who cursed you. He was a ‘Wizard Demon,’ and know one wants to find him after dealing with the fall-out of the curse he gave you. You don’t have much choice Teegan. You need to retreat with Hazal and her clan, they will help you.” 

“But if you don’t,” Father Matthews said ominously, “We will end your life right now and we know how to do it. If you choose to meet Hazel, I will bring you to her and once you’ve worked with her for a while, you can go about your life. As long as you always find Hazel and her female descendants, to take your potion twice a year, you’re a free man.” 

Teegan nodded his understanding at Father Matthews. He gazed around him at the monks in their sack clothe, with torches lit. He peered confused at the priest who instead of trying to hurt him, wanted to help Teegan with his curse. No one was kind to Teegan, not since he’d been human. 

 He felt the priest was a good man in his heart, trying to help Teegan for Teegan’s sake and everyone Teegan came upon, so he didn’t hurt them unknowingly. Father Matthews promised him what he had always wanted to be able to do, to live his life without the darkness, the shadowy curse which made him a monster. 

“Alright Father,” Teegan said. “I will come with you. But promise me this woman Hazel, she will not harm me? Or kill me, herself?” 

“I promise and she will say the same.” 

Teegan followed  Father Matthews back to the monastery. He hoped no one found him before he saw Hazal. He would have to start over in the new world he thought, perhaps,  convince this Hazel to come with him if she was pretty? But for now, the monestary was the safest place for Teegan to rest. As he fell asleep, he wondered about this witch, could her potion actually control his curse? 

Sighing he dreamt of a woman with hazel eyes and a soft touch. When he awoke he found himself not in the monestsry, but asleep in a tranquil room in a comfortable bed as those of nobility slept on. The room was ornately decorated and sighing, thinking it was all a dream, Teegan faded back into sleep. 

——-

When he awoke again, and the sunlight was pouring into the lavish room, Teegan arose from the softest bed he’d ever slept on. It was plush with furs and woven sheets. He longingly gazed back, wishing he could sleep forever away, but he realized he was here to receive help from the gifted witch of blessed magic named Hazel

Her family lived well, he thought to himself. He wondered again why, the priest would save someone as terrible as him. Teegan had murdered and hurt so many people when the beast overtook him, especially in the beginning of his cursed life, when he had no control at all. The priest knew what Teegan had initially done to be cursed. Teegan thought back to that day ages ago, almost two-hundred-years.

——

Back then, he’d only been around twenty-five winters, he wasn’t exactly sure. He’d grown up spoiled, a son of the aristocracy. A future Lord and Vassal, yet he hadn’t known enough to value his position. He hadn’t cared much but for mead, women, and fun. 

No women ever caught his attention long. He imagined he had a few bastards here and there among the village lasses and the barmaids. Then there were the maids and courtesans

There had been a lovely one with dark black hair and blue-eyes. Eyes such a stormy blue,  he felt he was drowning in them the first time he saw Eleanor’s eyes. But everyone knew Eleanor was off-limits. She was the Earl’s personal and most current favourite mistress. 

But Eleanor had beguiled Teegan as a young man. She was a seasoned suductress and she drew him in. 

“Such a handsome man as yourself, all alone in the Earl’s court? I’ve noticed you’ve stopped bringing the servant girls and other courtesans to your bed? The Earl prefers his vassals to be properly taken care of, is something the matter?” Eleanor had asked him, fluttering her lashes and rubbing his arm. 

 “No Madam, nothing is wrong. But I’m not interested in those women because they’re all the same after a while. I have in my eyes the picture of the most elegant and graceful women in the land and no other woman compares with her beauty or kind manner,” Teegan told Eleanor, who laughed. 

“Ah, so is the son, of the Lord of the Forests, in love then?” 

“He thinks perhaps, but he is waiting to see what the woman he longs for says to his request. He cannot touch her, but desperately wants to be with her. He would defy all authority to have her. Do you know who she is Eleanor?” 

Teegan must have shown he was a tad nervous. He’d never had to proposition a woman before. He’d known what a dangerous situation he was getting himself and his family into, but the price was more than he’d ever dreamed. 

Eleanor laughed again,”You play a complicated and deadly game young Teegan. You wouldn’t be the only person defying an Earl or the wretched wizard who follows him around. You’d best consider some other courtesan. Then you will not be killed or worse for touching me. Then again, I like a guy who lives a bit dangerously. Shall we go for a walk in plane sight, so no one thinks we’re doing anything wrong?” 

Teegan had agreed and Eleanor had been a wonderfully skilled storyteller, entertaining him, but never touching him, making it seem as if they were keeping each other company, while she waited for the Earl to call for her. 

Then, Eleanor had pretended to fall and while Teegan aided Eleanor in righting herself, she whispered: “Meet me at the gamekeepers cottage, tomorrow night.” 

Teegan had agreed and they had made love madly there for hours when the Earl and his consort, walked in on Teegan and Eleanor. Eleanor pleaded and was instantly forgiven, the Earl adored her so much. She did nothing to try and save Teegan, saying the whole idea was his fault. 

“I’m only a woman, how could I resist him, he charms all the women where ever he goes,” she told the Earl. 

He kissed Eleanor, “I forgive you, my love. You couldn’t help yourself. My Wizard will deal with this scoundrel. He’ll make Lord Teegan sorry.” 

Then the Earl and Eleanor left the cottage and it was only half-naked Teegan and the evil Wizard. The old man cracked his fingers, his dark eyes eating into Teegan’s soul. Teegan was terrified . . . 

——-

Then someone was shaking him awake.

“Teegan,” a melodic and gentle voice said. “Teegan wake-up, we need to have your potion now.” 

He mumbled something than yelled. When he was finally awake, a woman with auburn hair, milky skin, and vibrant green eyes was staring at Teegan appearing worried. She brushed the hair back from his face and rocked him as the edges of his nightmare faded. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.