Children/YA/Family, Health, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing

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. 

——-

1. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

2. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——–

3. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——-

4. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——–

5. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

6. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——-

7. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——-

8. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——-

9. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——-

10.

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——-

11. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

13. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

14. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

15. 

Credit: http://www.pinterest.com

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Bop - 6 lines, refrain, 8 lines, refrain, 6 lines, refrain, Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Bop – “Tin Man of Dreams” #dreams #amwriting #poetry #photochallenge


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this photo challenge. I missed this one, as is was from two weeks ago. 

——

Credit: Matt Dixon

———

Yesterday I heard him move, silent tin man, 

Rusted, squeaking hinges, yet light spans.

A tin man with no heart inside his chest, 

His hallow metal barrel chest detests, 

The emptiness he feels without his heart, 

A  lit heart on his head instead restarts

Tin man full of dreams, rusted metal parts.

He may feel brittle without movement, 

Stuck in a cupboard, his joints need soothing

Some oil to grease his soldier-like steps, 

To urge his metal mouth to smile more yet.

But he still sits hidden, you wouldn’t know he, 

Has never stopped lighting his space pleased

His heart is not of darkness, but sun beams, 

Edison’s gift, fairy’s magic, lights streaming

Tin man full of dreams, rusted metal parts. 

Rusted limbs matter little, but a boy, 

Loves this enchanted robot, mystic toy. 

He cleans him up, oils his joints perfectly

The robot smiles, glow growing immersed

New feelings, memories lost, but at last, 

He’s a night light, child’s toy, great love amassed. 

Tin man full of dreams, rusted metal parts. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Animals/Pets, Children/YA/Family, Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, My Thoughts, NaPoWriMo, Nature, Nonfiction, Religion/Morality, Rictameter – 2,4,6,8,10,8,6,4,2 – beg/end same, Rondel - ABba abAB abbaA, Writing Challenges

Day 22 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /FFftAW: Poem – Rondel – “Wheat Fields” #poetry #flashfiction #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem called a Georgic focused on taking care of the earth and agriculture and initially written by Virgil. For the A to Z Challenge the GoodRead’s writer’s quote will begin with the letter S. Also I’m using this poem for Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy

——–

Credit: Yinglan Z

——–

“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

———

In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

The threshing machine worked, farmer in his seat, 

Radio loud as wheat full grown ceases —

No longer for a glorious view reached. 

Becomes the meals of many now to eat. 

In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

An old wagon rotting by the house leased. 

Visions of yesterday, horses released. 

No burden for harvest to pull and meet. 

Times have changed, technology entreats. 

In fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

——-


———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneer, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

Friday Fictioneer: The Winter the Snow Never Stopped #amwriting #flashfiction #snow


Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting FF.

——

Credit: Sarah Potter

——-

The snow began yesterday and hadn’t stopped. By 5:00 pm it was night and the snow continued. Sara peered outside and could see the fat flakes steadily falling. They accumulated into two-foot piles and the city was forced to run the snow plows to clear the roads. 

It snowed for six months starting in December without stopping but remained eerily calm outside and around -12 degrees Celsius. It was difficult for Sara to even buy groceries. The walls of thick snow made her claustrophobic. 

 At the end of May, Sara crept outside and heard the first trickle of the water. The snow had begun to melt. Now, the river was rising and flooding was a concern. 

There was no winning with Mother Nature. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Beauty, Fashion, Italian Sonnet - Iambic Pentameter - Octave (abbaabba) - Sestet (cdcdcd), Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quotes, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Italian Sonnet – “Gentle Dreams” #amwriting #poetry #rebirth


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge:

——

Credit: Natalie Deprina

——

“Maybe love isn’t something that comes full circle. It just ebbs and flows, in and out just like the people in our lives” – Colleen Hoover, It Ends With Us

——-

Sometimes we think, it’s easy to manage to–

Balance the flow of our lives, each passage, 

Of words and wonders we travel down fast. 

Of memories, dreams curling blissfully through. 

Of laughter, lovereason to again bloom, 

Beyond the memories trapping us, lasting; 

Never completely leaving until they pass, 

In moments they choose, new whispers approve; 

The coming of the dawn, when slumber breaks, 

Though we’re scarred and hollow, gloves of lace

Will hide the marks of yesterday; fashion

A hug giving warmth, with new love, sweet dreams. 

Yesterday fades, sparks today’s gentle stream

Brings reassurance, your arms hold me dear

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for The Purposeful Practitioner: Fiction – Her One #fiction #amwriting 


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP. 

——

Credit: http://www.pixebay.com

——–

(I truly meant for this to be Flash Fiction, but the story just developed. Sorry about the way – over word count.) 

Grandma June huffed at Natalie, her granddaughter visiting her at home.”You’re not getting any younger, you’re thirty-eight. You can’t barely have babies anymore!” 

Natalie rolled her eyes at Grandma June,”Gran, I’m an elementary school teacher. I like going home and not having to worry about kids.” 

June sighed,”It was that man, you were supposed to marry. He’s a thief and stole your heart; I’m right aren’t I?” 

Natalie ignored June’s question. She hated when her Grandma or anyone, talked about Christopher. She’d never admit he was her one. 

He had been since she was in grade ten and Christopher an attractive senior in high school. It was when he had first asked Natalie out. They’d broken-up, having had incompatible lives with Christopher away at university soon after. 

Then, seven-years-ago, they’d ran into each other and started talking and dating again. Natalie had convinced herself this was finally it. Sadly, a few weeks before the wedding, Christopher had disappeared; the memories were agony for her. 

—–

Two-week’s later, Grandma June called Natalie up to invite her to a wine and cheese night she was hosting for her neighbours. She had tried to decline but June was adamant Natalie attend. 

She arrived at her Grandma June’s surprisingly lively wine party, in jeans and a white t-shirt. She had barely bothered to apply makeup as Natalie had come from the gym and was worn out. 

“Oh you came,” Grandma June said excitedly, approaching Natalie as she let herself inside. She hugged June and kissed her cheek, as June poured Natalie a large glass of red wine and filled her plate with bread and cheese. She winked at Natalie and left her alone in a small sitting room to rest before joining the other guests. 

“Natalie?” A deep voice said. She turned on the sofa towards the sitting room door. Christopher’s voice shocked her, she had almost doused herself in red wine. His familiar timber filled Natalie with great pain. She peered up at him feeling raw, as if he’d only left her yesterday without explanation. 

Tears began dripping down Natalie’s cheeks; she was crying and couldn’t stop herself. Christopher immediately sat down on the sofa beside Natalie and pulled her close; he wiped her tears away with his thumb. She tried to jerk out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her move. 

“I’m not letting you go, ever again,” Christopher swore.”I can’t explain much about why I had to leave you, only that I didn’t have a choice.” 

Natalie shoved him hard, “You have nothing more to say, nothing at all?” 

Christopher was noticeably upset, “I told you I worked as an IT consultant. But I could never tell you or anyone who I worked for until recently. I worked for Special Forces in the army and I was called out to a job. It’s the only thing I can’t about. The job lasted years, and I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone. We saved countless lives, but it was awful what I did to you and being without you. I’m sorry.” 

Natalie rubbed her swollen eyes, “You’re a liar Christopher. You could’ve mentioned something, anything. What do you want now? To stay for a while and then leave?To rip me apart again?” 

Christopher buried his face in his hand, before gazing up at her: “I’m out now Natalie. I swear to you I work for regular businesses now, nothing to do with Special Forces or the army. I’ve no more secrets other than experiences of war and blood. I came back here for you, I even moved into a house on your Grandma June’s street. I hoped somehow, you and I could be together again. I love you.” 

Natalie made a sound of frustration. Emotions of both anger and feeling relieved assaulted her. Despite her anger at Christopher, Natalie knew inside, there would never be another man for her but him. 

To Christopher’ surprise, Natalie moved to sit in Christopher’s lap and be closer to him, to breathe in how delicious he smelt. 

“Marry me now and we can do whatever celebration our families want later. I’m still mad at you Christopher but you’re it for me. I’ve always loved you and always will. If you can be with me and never leave me like that again, I can forgive you.” 

Christopher nodded at Natalie, saying: “I promise.” He held Natalie tightly and kissed her lips hungrily

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the sitting room door and Grandma June walked in, a smile on her face. June’s boyfriend Nigel was with her and so was the local United Church minister. 

Natalie looked at Christopher, “Did you do all this?” 

Christopher shook his head, squeezing Natalie tight and kissing her cheek. He pulled out a beautiful sapphire and diamond ring set from his pocket. He slid the engagement ring on Natalie’s finger, and Grandma June handed Natalie a ring which had been her Grandfather’s wedding ring. 

June smiled at Natalie and Christopher, a gleam in her clever blue-eyes. All was at it should be, she thought as her and Nigel witnessed her granddaughter’s wedding ceremony. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – ” Yaya Mockingjay” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s photo challenge: 

—-

http://www.pixebay.com

——

Have you cast all your doubts? 

Decided what’s best? 

An old women has regrets, 

There is no life without them. 

It’s difficult, knowing what’s right, 

I just tried my best. 

Listened to my elders, 

As my mother always said.

But there are days I know, 

My best is not enough.

I’m pushing and pulling,

No strength in my bones. 

I’m yelling and shouting, 

But my words aren’t enough,

“We don’t speak your language Yaya.” 

My grandchildren laugh. 

They always need more,

More than dry-bones can provide. 

I feel drained and drowned, 

In lost potential. 

Yaya down and she can’t raise herself up. 

Drenched in such evil, 

Of those with no conscience;

Their knowing looks, eyes that know nothing.

They’re missing my years, my wisdom learned, 

But I’m stuck in thick sticky mud, 

And no one helps an old woman up. 

There’s no hand to help comfort Yaya, 

Her life was tough and unsparing. 

The mud is the only spa I know or ever have, 

A facial mask of sludge and worms. 

An archaic beauty mask. 

Somebody hear, what I’ve learned — listen: 

Your mistakes and your ills you repeat, 

Each day I try to tell you but it’s not enough. 

You smile at me empty eyes, 

My words pass through your ears, 

The wind blows loudly there.

What’s enough? 

Until I’ve drawn my last breath? 

Until I’m lying here still — dead, 

Knowing some journeys such as mine, 

Must be made alone and for naught. 

A solo expedition, my entire culture lost, 

Must I stay on the roads of antiquity? 

Can I grow with the changing world? 

Give me a reason to deviate: 

I must stop the mudslide from coming.

Spitting sludge from my lips, 

Lord, why don’t they hear? 

The roar of doom and pain approaching. 

It will wash them away, 

When I’m safe in the heavens. 

Does being old make me invisible? 

The crevices of my face are a map, 

And my eyes the lights to yesterday. 

Learn from the past, I pray. 

Where is the light? 

Where is the hope? 

I’m just an old bird, a simple sparrow, 

How do I become a Mockingjay? 

I saw her fight in the movies, 

We need a Mockingjay today, 

A bird of pray who acts, 

Not sleeping through each day. 

How do I bring hope, become a symbol? 

How do I teach my young, 

To mimic a wisdom long past. 

You won’t like what I have to say I know, 

But you would hear, a Mockingjay. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “My Other Half” #amwriting #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this week’s photo prompt:

——–

http://www.inspirationfeed.com

——–

There are two-sides to me,

One you will hardly see.

She only comes out one night,

When the orb of the full moon frightens and blinds. 

She marks her time trapped, on my back,

Pacing inside me, my evil twin.

Each day I feel the pain she creates;

Carving out another tick, counting the days —

With her burning sharpie;

Writing on me with acid.

She takes the days five at a time;

Slowly each night I feel her poison,

But I shut her in, shut her down tight.

She is buried and not to be found,

When I call all light towards me. 

—–

Yet I have no power,

When her strength is full,

When the monster prowls, 

When it snaps its teeth for blood. 

The werewolf inside,

Biding her time,

Until now, when the moon is full and round;

She spits and she howls,

Her teeth sharp tiny daggers. 

She comes out from the floorboards,

The darkest dankest corner of my soul. 

Her prison she erupts from, no longer trapped,

She unfolds her wrath on all who pass, brings terror;

Clawing at me, shredding me for fun,

Because she knows when the night is done,

I’ll have my strength of luminous sparks again.

The light of the day will flow through me,

Cascading through my body,

Repairing all wounds.

But for tonight she roams the earth,

A horrifying hell monster with claws that hurt;

She shreds my insides, reminds me how small I am,

That she is all powerful and will one day win our war.

——

But I am growing less afraid,

And I have time to be patient.

The night it ends, she’s back in her cage,
Marking me with acidic ink, every night,

 Until when next the moon is full bright —

She’ll break free of my skin, 

The torture will begin.

But yesterday night she didn’t come out? 

There was no fight to lock her in;

I think she’s trapped inside me, for good? 

And I’m claiming back my skin,

Healing all her burning marks 

Becoming someone new.

My other half is dead I think,

I don’t feel her uncoiling, 

Scrartching her way through my defence.

My plan conceived it ruined her.

And in slumber I locked her thrice, 

Poisoned her in sleep.

So the only place she’ll terrorize —

Is her own dreams and I think she quite deserves, 

The nightmares promised her, 

For all eternity;

Sickly wicked sister, gone at last. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Moral Monday’s Flash Fiction: The Argument


Thank you to Nortina S for hosting Moral Monday’s 100 Word Flash Fiction. Feel Free to join in to at the link above. Today’s moral is: “Don’t Straddle The Fence.”


arguing girls
http://www.dreamstime.com

“Every time we go to a dance club, you drag me along to talk with some guy you have your eye on. I’d like to talk and dance with guys I like too.” Alex told Suzy who ignored her.

Alex turned to Melissa: “You told me you wanted to talk to a guy tonight but Suzy said he wasn’t worth the effort; it’s not up to Suzy.” 

“I’m fine.” Melissa mumbled, cringing as Suzy glared at her.

“Why did you say yesterday, how tired you were of helping Suzy chase guys?” Alex asked Melissa.

“I don’t want to get between you and Suzy.” Melissa said. 

“You’re a part of this too.” Alex said sternly. 

Suzy rolled her eyes: ” I’m the prettiest girl. I need you both to be wing-women when I’m scoping guys. Melissa gets this, you need to fall in line Alex.” 

——–

*My apologies for going over 100 words this week. I couldn’t seem to chop the story down more.* 


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Movie Reviews, Nonfiction, Quotes, Short Stories And Serial Stories

One to Three Quotes in Three Days – All At Once.


Thank you to Mayankk Sharma for nominating for the One to Three Quotes in Three Days Challenge. I’m going to do all the quotes at once, it’s much easier and less time consuming. I think this is round three of the challenge for me. I’m going to give  quotes from a couple of my favourite books Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through The Looking Glass. 

——


My nominees for the Quotes Challenge:

A. In Medias Res by Melinda Kucsera a talented writer of fantasy and poetry.

B. Simply Marquessa by Marquessa Matthews a wonderful writer of romance and thrilling fiction.

C. Days of Stone by Ryan Stone a fabulous poet.

D. What The Woman Wrote by Annie a great person and talented poetess.

E. Lucky Otter’s Haven by Luck Otter a blog providing information on those struggling with mental illness and asking/answering important questions in life.

F. Steps Times Two by MKvecchito another talented poetess.

Please participate if you have the time. But don’t feel as if you have to participate if you’re swamped. 

——

1.

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

2. 

http://www.pinterest.com

———

3. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

4. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

5. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

6. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

7. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——

8. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-

9. 

http://www.pinterest.com

10. 

http://www.pinterest.com

——-
©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.