Clerihew- aabb, Fiction, Flash Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Quotes, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 13 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/ Photo Challenge: Clairhews – “Stairway to Earth” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge 


Thanks to NEEKEREJ from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge. Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to write ” a clerihew. This is a four line poem biographical poem satirizes famous people.” As well, for A to Z Challenge, the GoodRead’s quote is from an author with a name beginning with the letter M (first or last name). 

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Credit: Julian Majin

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” I don’t wonder anymore what I’ll tell God when I go to heaven when we sit in the chairs under the tree, outside the city……..I’ll tell these things to God, and he’ll laugh, I think and he’ll remind me of the parts I forgot, the parts that were his favorite. We’ll sit and remember my story together, and then he’ll stand and put his arms around me and say, “well done,” and that he liked my story. And my soul won’t be thirsty anymore. Finally he’ll turn and we’ll walk toward the city, a city he will have spoken into existence a city built in a place where once there’d been nothing. ”  ― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

———–

She’s brilliantly famous you know, 

The lady of who Led Zeppelin sings of so;

Buying the stairway to Heaven, sighing, 
When the stores are all closed, surprised. 

——-

And though she makes me wonder much, 

What she so badly needed to buy such —

 Treasure; I was shocked when she was hurled, 

Descending the stairway to Heaven, to the world. 

——–

Heart’s Tribute to Led Zeplin – “Stairway to Heaven” 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Couplets - rhyme and have same meter, Current Events, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Day 3 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge: Poem – Elegy/Couplets – “The Traveler Reaches Home” #poetry #NaPoWriMo #AtoZchallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is  poem type called an elegy – a poem that mourns or honors someone dead or something gone by. Center the elegy on an unusual fact about the person or thing being mourned. ” An elegy generally combines three stages of loss: first there is grief, then praise of the dead one, and finally consolation.” Please see Literary Devices for more information.

I’ve paired this prompt with The A to Z Challenge quote, having the author/quoter’s name begin with the letter C. 

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Credit: Danika and Peter via UnSplash

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“We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.” Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

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Here we gather, today it finally hit —

Me, you won’t be coming back; such grit

You displayed, at the crux, as death grew near.

There was no “going gently” for you dear.

I always admired that you were strong,

At the finish you groaned your last song.

The pain was so great, it hurt us to see,

A candle flame who flared, flickering free.

Death was not easy, nor was your young life.

But you always shouldered through the strife.

A kind, giving person — philanthropist,

With death, you became a minimalist.

Objects hold memories, the Stone’s song we know —

well: “You Can’t Take It With You When You Go.”

As we remember, we wonder why —

Three-years ago you left, disappeared wide —

Across the world, sending postcards to —

Us all, as you adventured across through —

Every country you could see with no —

Face Time, Skype; we were scared you wouldn’t come —

Back; but you knew how sick you had become.

That’s why you left, returned, with all of your —

Stories to share as you withered, poorly —

Weak and fragile, all your living used up.

No matter we were so afraid it’s just

We didn’t understand your reasons ’til —

You said, “I’m dying fast, I have no more will —

to live, my time is drawing near, I see —

God’s blessed glory shining, in front of me.”

We forgive you for leaving twice; we know —

Your Heavenly home, will now shelter you.

It’s hard how it ended, but we’ll see you —

Soon — in the peace, Heaven granted for you.

——



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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.


Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Florette - aaba 8,8,8,12 - Line 4 - 8th syllable rhymes with b., History, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Florette – “My Daisies” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Mike Vore

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Daisy your coat is rough, rusted;

I’d restore your coat true, trust me. 

It used to shine an apple-red.
You’re engine won’t start; words unsaid they’re frustrating. 

——

Daisy May you had your days like, 

The woman I named you for, my wife.

But she is gone now, you’ve decayed

Both of you leave me so dismayed; inside I’ve strife

——-

Daisy, I wonder should I send you —

To the scrap yard, or sell you? 

Should I restore you to glory? 

So those I meet know your story and my wife’s too? 

——-

Nostalgia overwhelms, memories —

Cloud my mind thinking too plenty —

Of back in the day of youth’s glow

When I had both Daisies, I drove through life, with them. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Writing Prompt: Poem – Villanelle – “Becoming ‘The Angel In The House’.” #amwriting #poetry #victorianera 


Thank you to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Villanelle writing prompt this week.

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Credit: http://www.webexhibits.org – Italian School, The Rustic Concert, The Song

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Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn,

We’re here to fill our minds, wonder blooming. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned.

Oh what problems will we learn to discern? 

Reading, poise, religion; house ‘angels’ singing, 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn. 

How should we serve tea? Keep house, give birth, turn —

On those not good enough? Not with us ranking. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned. 

Should our daughters be haughty and learn —

Their goal (as ours), to marry well praying, 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn.

Are we moral centers? Ignoring sperns, 

Spouse with many beds, mistresses stringing. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned. 

Our value, our husband, children, in turn —

Their children, their marriages bliss bringing? 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn, 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned.

—–

Credit: Crosscurrents Writing Gender – Quote from Virginia Woolf
 

—–

Villanelle

A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme: aba aba aba aba aba abaa.
The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).”

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Grandpa’s Fish Pond #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks too Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: Sora Sangano – http://www.unsplash.com

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Phallon watched the fish swim in the pond his Grandpa had installed in his backyard. He enjoyed visiting his Grandpa each Saturday. Grandpa had put the pond in because young Phallon loved the fish so much as a toddler; ‘fishes’ had been his first word. 

Now he sat with Grandpa who asked him about school and of course the girls in his school. Uncomfortable, Phallon wished Grandpa didn’t ask him about that. 

Grandpa simply laughed,”Phallon, I’m only teasing you. It’s good you have friends who are girls and that there are girls you like. This Jennifer, have you asked her out?”

Phallon’s face turned red, “Yeah we’ve gone to a movie together and bowling. I want her to be my girlfriend but her parents say she’s too young to have a boyfriend.” 

Grandpa nodded a smile on his face, “You’ll find the right one when you’re older. When I saw your Grandma the first time, my heart lept out of my chest. I wonder if I will ever meet that right girl of yours and see you marry her?” 

Phallon felt uncomfortable again, “Why wouldn’t you be there Grandpa? You’re only eighty-one?” 

Grandpa patted Phallon’s hand then squeezed it, “You know, my boy, I’ve been sick a long time. It’s a battle I’ve mostly conquered, but my strength is waning these days.When you get married someday, think of your old Grandpa, okay?” Phallon nodded feeling a lump in his throat.

Two-years later Grandpa succumbed. Phallon was sixteen and felt raw inside. He returned to the fish pond in Grandpa’s  back yard. He noticed the fishes were floating and the reality of life made tears wet his cheeks. In the mess of the last two weeks including Grandpa’s funeral, no one had remembered to feed the fish. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, Friday Fictioneer, Inverted Refrain - abab (ba) or (ab) - 8 syllable - indent last two lines., Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Fictioneer: Poem – Free Verse – “Echo Beyond”


Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.


ff-train-to-no-where
Credit: C.E. Ayr

Parts of city, no one admits are here,

Only smashed cars, railroad tracks live dying.

Find a fleck of hope here;

There’s not but skeletons, twisted years lost.

*****

We stare into the crisscrossing of tracks,

Wonder how all the trains never seem lost.

For accidents, no care.

Here is our place, where no one dare go.

****

I will always hope,

Wishing there’s more left,

Then empty spaces littered.

I’ll find strength where it hurts,

Will I change our lot?

Someday our names will echo beyond.

*****

I’m tired of staying in this mishmash space,

There’s more to life than choking on coal dust.

My love, we’ll find our place.

We’re wolves, eyes gleaming, searching for home.

*****

Bitterness leaves me caught in this valley,

Is still and hot; we’ll move, find our names.

Wolves as you and I,

Our might is large; ignored, we’re crafty.

*****

I will always hope,

Wishing there’s more left,

Then empty spaces littered.

I’ll find strength where it hurts,

Will I change our lot?

Someday our names will echo beyond.

*****


“The Cave” – Mumford & Sons


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Animals/Pets, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, My Thoughts, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: The Great Dachshund Escape #amwriting #flashfiction #pets #fiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode

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I was sitting on a ferry boat, on my way to a speciality grocery store, when I heard yelling and screaming from behind where I sat. A fifty-some couple were engaged in a physical and verbal sparring match with Peppy the dachshund literally in the middle. 

Margo, refused to give Peppy up to her ex-boyfriend, Simon.”He was my dog before we started going out, and he’s my dog now that we’re breaking up.” 

“That’s not fair, he’s part of my family now. Peppy sits by me most of the day because I work from home. He should be with me in the week. You can have Peppy on weekends,” Simon countered.

Margo scoffed and was about to jab Simon in the chest when Peppy managed to squeeze his way out from between both owners. 

They chased him down the steps and down to the plank where people walked onto the ferry. Peppy jumped in the water, the plank in the process of being removed, and swam to shore before running away. 

I wonder if Margo or Simon ever saw him again? 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: A Million Times Better #3LineTales #nonfiction #amwriting 


Thanks to Sony of Only 100 Words, our gracious host of #3LineTales:

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Credit: Jennifer Pallian via UpSplash

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Everyone either loves or hates fruit bread and more often than not, this stiff and solid rock like cake which sits in your stomach as if you’ve ingested a stone, is detested by many people. No matter the tradition or reason we bake/eat fruit bread at Christmas, it is a custom many of us wonder about; I can honestly say, however, there is only one fruit bread in the world I love because it tastes wonderful and is nothing like any fruit bread I’ve ever tasted before, or will ever taste again. 

Grandma’s fruit bread wasn’t like traditional loaves of fruit bread because it was soft and tempting as I believe, any kind of bread should be; inside her bread was sugared and candied fruits much like traditional fruit bread, except my Grandma’s fruit bread was melt in your mouth and we used to toast a small slice or two for breakfast during the holidays and have it with becel; the buttery, sweet, soft bread was delicious and makes me hungry thinking about it; Grandma’s fruit bread was not traditional fruit bread — it was a million times better.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, November Notes, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

November Notes: Poem -Day 13 – Etherees Cascading – “I Don’t Understand” #poetry #novembernotes #amwriting #writing #music


Today’s song prompt is called “Shell Suite” by Chad Valley.

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“Shell Suite” – Chad Valley

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Signs written on the walls, handwriting no —

One reads such a language anymore.

But you saw the signs, the moment —

Words in my head untangled. 

I don’t understood us, 

Myself, in this mess. 

My feelings confused, 

Time was short. 

Now we’re —

Gone. 

—–

Signs, 

Are so, 

Clear to you, 

I don’t need some —

Gifted seers dream.

Echoes in my head rhyme, 

Tapping my foot along in —

Rapid time, and I wonder where —

My search will begin, if I find us? 

Quarter past, rustle up — we fit or we don’t. 

——

Somehow I’m the one in control, I choose, 

I decide; I want to just go with —

The flow, not worry, not decide;

But at least I have my say. 

Yet life works out your way. 

Grand design heart beats, 

Perplexed by these —

Sounds, friends, foes, 

Yourself, 

Dazed. 

—-

It, 

Mattered, 

Not, writing —

So vivid and —

So crystal clear I, 

Felt resilience in, 

My chest; down to the beach, 

Our getaway, but rhythms ting. 

They keep echoing, it’s exhausting, 

Figuring out your charms, while packing for the sun. 

—-

You’re packing; feel the heart attack we live, 

A life I want not, I’m looking for the shore. 

For a place to get of off the flooding —

Boat before it carries me down. 

Where are you, where’d you go? 

Writings on the wall, 

Said it all well, 

They’re erased. 

You’re gone, 

Fled. 
——

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Writing

Writing 101: Why Do I Write? #everydayinspiration


notebook
http://www.aacc.edu

Why Do I Write? What a question. It’s a difficult concept for me to explain. I have said before, writing is like breathing for me and I know many other writers can relate.

While some people talk a great deal and say everything they’re thinking outloud, some of us prefer to put our thoughts to paper or on a keyboard. You see, such as it is with conversation, when words fly from a talkative person’s mouth nearly unfiltered, the words I write or type flow from my mind to my hands and there isn’t any stopping them.

Where ever I go I write. It’s my most comfortable form of communication. Sometimes, if I have something vital I need to express, I write it down first and then later, I remember what I wrote as I speak it outloud.

I make lists. I always have. I take notes listening to a TED Talk I want to remember, or some other new activity I’m attempting to learn. I make notes or highlight in books on my IPAD or in hard copy. Sharing my thoughts and remembering what I’m learning, is vital to me.

I’m not exactly sure why my tendency is to write first, other than when I write what I need to say, my soul flutters free. I let go of my burdens when I write and make the points in conversation I couldn’t say as concise or eloquently outloud.

Moreover, I think in writing. As I drift to sleep, I think in poetry. I think in half-rhymes, in full rhymes, in metaphor, assonance, alliteration, simile, personification, and in changing points of views.

Writing makes me consider character and the motivation of people in real life going about their everyday activities.I wonder why they do what they do? How they do what they do? What person hides under their public persona?

I don’t always want to know the answers but I wonder and I’m full of questions. I don’t trust easily, but I feel a kinship with those who also use words such as I do, to unburden themselves, to prove a significant point.

I write because what else would I do? I have always written and writing has become my breath. I write because writing is me and if you want the truth of me, it is most easily found in what I write


 

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.