Poem: Free Verse (Quatrains) – “Slow Sweet Burn of Life” #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to The Daily Prompt for the words Burn and Pleasure.

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Pleasure it awakes in swirls of dreams, 

Our thoughts hold the key to a slow sweet burn.

To our wildest and most tempestuous scenes.

Seductive and entralling time, causing rug burn.

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Who plays the Queen of hearts, the lady prestine? 

As our hearts smoke, cinder and ash burn.

Or wish we only for, human contact; no pipe dreams,

One hand holds another with compassionate concern.

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A tiny fist squeezes back, dressed in winter white cream.

The pleasure in the laughter of baby’s unreserved.

The precocious and precious delights of a child us appease.

Giggling with exuberance, gurgles for future ice cream.

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Of love and light and fascinating swirls gleaned.

Pleasure seeking knowledge, conversation purred.

Inspiration; genuflection to God, alter the flaws, appease.

Right the wrongs, make what’s true everyone’s concern.

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Ambiant light; the truth in fog, bliss in dreams.

Lovers kiss, and delight in beloved’s eternal burn.

With desire and, touch, and scent, all streamed.

Only for a deep, true love, do some lucky, yearn.

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Embrace, scintillate soulmate; live in love’s esteem.

 Imperfections, what makes us human? To aid, serve.

Endorphins, serotonin, results in passionate beings.

But the true-love is rare; seeing life’s wheel turning.

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Adoration of fractures in each other; lost words breathing.

Pleasure in such imperfect cracks of others learned.

Pleasure in memories; in night’s hectic moonbeam.

Yourself, thinking back; ignoring anxious concerns.

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Of Pleasure indulge; of moments in life, redeeming.

Treasure seconds; breezy, blowing freedom unreserved.

As the light shines on, linger in pleasurable daydreams.

Feel yourself lost in thought, of life’s slow sweet burn.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Flash Fiction for The Purposeful Practitioner: Wrong Horror Movie. #amwriting


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFfTPP.

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http://www.pixebay.com

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“I’m so tired we’ve been driving for hours,” Luc muttered to Felicia.

“Well there’s a motel up ahead. No nevermind. We’re not staying here honey.” 

Luc yawned. “I can’t drive anymore tonight. It’s 12:30 a.m.”

“This motel has dusty rooms crawling with roaches and resembles the Bate’s Motel.”

“It’ll be fine you’ll see.” Luc said. He parked the car infront of Reception and came back with a key card. He showed Felicia the key card.

“I’ll sleep in the damn car. If you’re still alive in the morning I’ll come in and shower.”

“If you’re sure,” Luc said. “Want to see it first?” Felicia remained mute.

Luc opened room 62 which was surprisingly clean and modern. The beds and linens were new and the bathroom had been renovated. 

He thought about getting Felicia but Luc was also fond of stretching out in a bed to himself.

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It was 8:00 am when Luc received a knock on his room door. “Sir are you Luc Rareson?” A grisly state trooper asked.

“Yes,” Luc said tentivily. 

“Is this your car?” The trooper pointed to a black SUV, half covered up.

“Yes, my girlfriend was sleeping in there. She refused to sleep in the room.”Luc said ashen.

“What’s your girlfriend’s name Mr. Rareson?” 

“Felicia Mayer, where is she? What happened to her?” 

“I’m sorry to tell you this sir but Felicia Mayer was murdered in your car last night.” The trooper said gently.

Tears leaked out Luc’s eyes.”I should’ve made her stay inside the room. I should’ve insisted.” 

 “We have the individual who murdered Felicia in custody. He won’t tell us his real name. He was wearing an old goalie mask from hockey and says his name is Jason Voorhees.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Luc sobbed.

“No,” the state trooper said.”Ironically enough, today is Friday May 13.” 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: Persnickety #MoralMondays 


Thanks to Nortina for hosting The Moral Monday’s prompt. This weeks moral is: “Harsh Words Stir Up Anger.”

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http://www.valetlaundryclt.com

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” Stop doing it that way.” Alice told her daughter Kim.

“What way?”

“Don’t fold laundry like that, it’s not how I taught you.” Alice said.

Kim was twenty-years-old. She did her own laundry and was confused.”It’s my laundry. I do it myself and I’m an adult. I wear my clothes so I will fold them how I like.”

Alice exploded: “This is my house and you will fold your laundry how I say to fold it.”

“Fine.” Kim retorted. “I told you I’d stay home for your sake until university is done but I can’t do it. You’re too particular.  I will be gone at the end of the month.”

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Wrapped Refrain – ” You and I End, But I Survive.” 


 

wwe.kimdodd.mft
 
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Inside me I hope you see my soul,

Dreaming accomplishment, goals.

I wish you could reach deep within, see —

See beneath the visage, me.

There’s more then what is visible, in a sunrise —

Lost in the spaces of memory, arising.

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I hope I can reveal to you,

Treasures of thoughts, giving you clues.

I’m a women capable of love,

I take, I give more; push and shove,

I spoil you because you’re a vision, my best-friend

Depending on you, it’s difficult to do, in the end.

—-

Not sure what this says about my mind,

That I cannot trust; hurt inside.

Little by little I’ll give you more,

I’m afraid you’ll see me out the door,

I’m dreaming, being comfortable together.

Both in our sweats, and me cuddled in forever.

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You get nervous, when I go beyond,

Physicality, a skin bond.

You give me looks at certain times,

Staring into my eyes, I’m moon shine.

But then, ignoring me because I did something wrong.

I don’t read minds, ever heard the tune of that song.

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At times, I believed we were going,

Places, you and I, showing —

Each other we can do this spring,

We can be special, mean something.

Then you tune me out again, until you want “it” again.

I’m sad, I feel knives; leaving you, I lose but gain.

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I’m strong on my own and thrive.

Demonstrating I survive.

Wires of energy feeling vibes.

Turning away from us, describe —

The beauty of being alone, peaceful, and free.

Inside me, I create my own happy place, you’ll see.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Flash Fiction: Shadowless


Peter Pan taught me that it is vital to keep your shadow close; it can be an easy enough part of yourself to lose. Sometimes, I think I would rather not have a shadow but then I consider, that would be like a vampire looking into a mirror and not having a reflection because they’re a vampire. Without a shadow or a reflection, you would be something inhuman.

That’s why I’ve never understood how I remain human but my shadow went missing one night. People don’t notice, but I do. It doesn’t matter the source of light, rays of the sun or a glow from the light bulb, but I have no shadow;  it left me in my sleep.

I had this nightmare I don’t remember. I was sweating and I woke up screaming and I’ve never done that before. I’m sure it was the Sandman, or maybe the song,”Enter Sandman” by Metallica had me uptight.

But in the night, ” [I] sleep with one eye open, holding [my] pillow tight,” so when the Sandman comes in my dreams, I can steal back my shadow and sew it to my body as Peter Pan did.

I’m not sure how that will work yet, but I’m tired of being a freak without a shadow. You think I would have superpowers at least, but losing your shadow doesn’t work that way. Dogs don’t like you anymore, cats hiss, animals at the zoo all go wild when you pass by.

It appears I’m some unholy being, and I don’t even know what I am.

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Shadow
Alistair Forbes
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Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF each Sunday.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Triolet – ” Being Complete” 


Thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt word incomplete.

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http://www.portauthorityarchive.com
 

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Puzzle at a wooden table missing pieces,

Words forgotten while talking, in instant.

Writing tests for school, answers won’t release.

Puzzle at a wooden table missing pieces,

Buying into a condo, bank won’t give lease.

Putting together wrong ingredients redundant, 

Puzzle at a wooden table missing pieces,

Words forgotten while talking, in instant.

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Moments in life where nothing fits the way it needs,

Incompleteness a feeling, we conceal,

Not feeling whole, no other half, you’ve seen —

Moments in life where nothing fits the way it needs,

Why can’t you be complete in yourself and lead,

Others to be incharge of feeling too revealed.

Moments in life where nothing fits the way it needs,

Incompleteness a feeling, we conceal.

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Be who you’ll be, don’t need acclamation.

You’re stronger then you think, a mighty Queen.

Don’t need to be grande, a strong sensation.

Be who you’ll be, don’t need acclamation,

No incompleteness here, for information.

Strength is a quality, forged unseen,

Be who you’ll be, don’t need acclamation.

You’re stronger then you think, a mighty Queen.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Rondeau – “Rise Above it All.”


A Rondeau is a French form, 15 lines long, consisting of three stanzas: a quintet, a quatrain, and a sestet with a rhyme scheme as follows: aabba aabR aabbaR. Lines 9 and 15 are short – a refrain (R) consisting of a phrase taken from line one. The other lines are longer (but all of the same metrical length).

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.
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quotesgram.com
 
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1 Aspire to rise above it all; dream,

2 Only the rise and fall of breath seem,

3 Real, vital, required, live a song,

4 Perhaps, we can do more than long,

5 Believe, sip, drink shifting sun beams.

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6 Shadows hover, light inside gleams.

7 More of your tight hugs, I can dream.

8 Shifting darkness, your lies wrong.

9 Rise above it all.

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10 Crossing rapids in waters, I glean.

11 Useful thrilling of sights unseen.

12 I can wish, time apart not long,

13 Time enough to echo what is wrong,

14 Time, brings together, a seem.

15  Rise above it all.
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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Babel Falling


I was curiously studying the buildings downtown. Especially a building shaped like an elongated pyramid. It was under construction and would be the tallest building there was. It felt out of place to me. Like the Tower of Babel  built to the heavens. I think it was a mistake to build it so high. 

It made me think of the pyramids where the Egyptian Pharohs were buried. Pyramids built by slaves who toiled and died. It was hard work to toil so high in the sky. This tower also made me think of the Inca’s and the ziggurats on which they sacrificed an innocent person, cutting out their hearts for their blood thirsty gods.

I observed something was wrong high up on the elongated pyramid. I heard the squeak of steel and I cringed when I heard the breaking of glass shattering. Pieces of the building began to plummet to the streets below. I tried to avoid them. The closer the pieces come, I understand. I am a sacrifice. The tower of Babel is falling. That is what happens when you pay only enough money for near slave labour. I cast my eyes to the heaven in prayer as a piece of metal silences my thoughts. 

Alistair Forbes

Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Thanks for Making Me a Fighter


www.colourbox.com
http://www.colourbox.com

These past few weekends I have learned a skill I’m not so fond of. In fact, I have avoided this skill all my life. And if I’m truthful, I’ll admit that there is a second skill I’ve learned along with my first skill. The first skill I have learned is how to fight and go back to having a normal relationship with the other party afterwards and the second skill I’ve learned is how to apologize, especially when you’ve done something wrong or even if you haven’t.

In my family growing up — believe it or not — we didn’t fight much especially now, since we kids have become adults. When we do fight the fights are usually vicious and quickly forgotten. It is understood that there is an apology that isn’t said. It is understood that life just goes back to normal after the fight and we forgive each other and move on. It isn’t always that simple though. Sometimes arguments occur and there is left over feelings of anger or hurt. Sometimes the process of forgetting what was said in a fight takes time. It may take a few days but eventually life clicks back into place again and the world goes back to normal.

In romantic entanglements, I’m not so good at fighting. Because the truth is you can’t always just leave a fight without explanations and apologies. Often, explanations and apologizing are just what is needed in this situation especially if you are in a serious relationship. The deeper you get into a relationship the more hurt you can become. And sometimes you don’t realize it but another person who knows you well can read you better than you think if you’re confused about the relationship or have issues with something in the relationship. And sometimes either party can injure the other party in a moment of stupidity or by accident.

The truth I never learned about fighting is that fighting keeps you in line with another person. Fighting makes you feel alive. And making up after a fight can bring such closeness and kindness that it makes the fighting worth it. Fighting also makes the previously ” muddy waters”  between you and the person you are fighting with clear. It feels fantastic to be forgiven after fight, because you can feel such relief and thankfulness at being forgiven and starting anew with the other person.  Although, I think I never will like the actual fighting — I’m too much of a negotiator and compromiser —  I think that learning and having to deal with a less than easy playing field is healthy for you. It’s vital that we learn to get along with people and often that means bringing out are inner fighter, instead of always compromising. And other times that means saying your sorry whether you are  right or wrong.