Challenge – PLAY
Dear friends,
Feel free to join the challenge. Write a maximum 100 words as a comment or a ping back to your blog starting from the image below.
I wish you all a fabulous day and you are all welcome to PLAY. 
Ela.
” Mommy, I played with the little bottle with red color, I opened it just to smell it but the color wanted to play with me…
Your toys are so much better than mine!!! ”
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33 words, memyselfandela, 2013
Challenge – PLAY
Dear friends,
Feel free to join the challenge. Write a maximum 100 words as a comment or a ping back to your blog starting from the image below.
I wish you all a fabulous day and you are all welcome to PLAY.
Ela.
Soul and flesh embraced
and the salt of tears lingering in the eye
freedom means to break your flight sometimes
but to also stand up many fold
and fly with my own wings.
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33 words, memyselfandela, September 2013
Challenge – PLAY
Dear friends,
Feel free to join the challenge. Write a maximum 100 words as a comment or a ping back to your blog starting from the image below.
I wish you all a fabulous day and you are all welcome to PLAY.
Ela.
The wind caresses your soul
When your ships sink.
Ten blind men pass at your left
Hundred crazy stop by your right.
Yet smile, breathe, shine
For you are beautiful like no other.
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33 words, memyselfandela, September 2013
Thursday Challenge – PLAY
Dear friends,
Feel free to join the challenge. Write a maximum 100 words as a comment or a ping back to your blog starting from the image below.
I wish you all a fabulous day and you are all welcome to PLAY. 🙂
Ela.
It is in the eye of the beholder that beauty lays, and this beauty extends from his eyes to his heart, then it flows to his soul, taking then control of his hard working hands, loving hands, that make inert dust breathe and become alive in vessels that can themselves contain life in purest form.
This created beauty has the fingerprint of his love giving hand, the same hand that can touch all, objects and creatures, blessed hand that touched also the last rose of summer and in it the whole universe.
The potter has the beauty of an angel.
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100 words, memyselfandela
Photo: Andre, http://urkeramik.wordpress.com/2013/08/20/eine-rose/
Vielen Dank Andre. 🙂
Thursday Challenge – PLAY
Dear friends,
Feel free to join the challenge. Write a maximum 100 words as a comment or a ping back to your blog starting from the image below.
I wish you all a fabulous day and you are all welcome to PLAY. 🙂
Ela.
Blue skies and storms, blowing wind and birds chirping, joy and drama.
Sweetness and curiosity, patience and restlessness, surprise and disappointment, longing and oblivion.
We have all different stories, yet we are all alike. We wear all different wrappings, different bodies, different clothes, different losses and dreams and feelings, yet we are all humans.
Life brings us together sometimes, just the way cupcakes freshly made meet for a while in the showcase of a store before they go each to a different destination.
Maybe life will make us meet again. Till then be happy and love with all your heart.
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100 words, memyselfandela, 2013
Thursday Challenge – WRITE
Dear friends,
Feel free to join the challenge. Here is the picture, write what you think, express what it makes you feel. Write a maximum 100 words as a comment or a ping back to your blog starting from the image below.
I wish you all a fabulous day and you are all welcome to WRITE.
Ela.
He was long gone from the room, yet in her deep fear Lucy could still hear him.
His liquid diet fueled anger was screaming at her mom now, her frail voice begging him to stop while he smashed another glass against the kitchen floor. Though Lucy knew that not even calling the police helped, as last time when she called them her mom lied that nothing happened while covering her bruised wrists, just because she still loved him.
He was not her father. No more lullabies in her soul as she prayed God to simply take him away one day.
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100 words, memyselfandela
PLAY
Who told you that I forgot how to play? That’s right, I never forgot. And neither did you.
Hereby I open my own challenge. Every week on Thursday I will post a picture and invite you all, if you wish, to comment with a text of maximum 100 words – or the link to your blog containing the post and the picture.
There are no other prizes than the pure fun of writing together.
Have fun and play! 😀
Ela
They look at you, but do they ever really see who you are?
All those bitter years when they have bullied you and hit you, mutilated you and injured you, all those years have only made your inner strength grow. You do know completely who you are and what you cannot stand to be anymore. Controlled. Humiliated. Abused. Scared.
No, all that pain was enough. It is time to break free. And you are free. And you are beautiful, no matter what they say. Does your body matter so much? Or is this beauty just your soul finally shining through?
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100 words, memyselfandela – August 2013
Dejected (A Duet Post)
neglected quantity of the day
passes off surreal
quiet soul
gliding on time’s breeze
she’ll fly away to a shelter
where wounds can heal
she’ll cover her eyes
with broken wings
knowing that she will fly higher
tomorrow.
gliding on time’s breeze
an unheard soul
passes off unseen
to a shelter secluded
where none shall hear
cries of a wounded heart
she’ll cover her eyes
with broken wings
awaiting for the wind
to whisper her
“Beloved, it’s time”
she’ll rise
spread her wings
fly off
higher and higher
on a plane higher
tap the lone cloud with her feet
bounce in the glory of sunshine
flap her wings
squeak and babble in glee…
that’s the core of a bird’s spirit,
what’s yours?
Masks
Art. The most intense form of individualism ever known.
Pure art filled his hungry eyes. Windows – paintings mirroring shreads of a huge reality, each another reason to run away from his own life and recreate it from scrap. Balconies – masks hiding millions of known faces, seductively passing him by in the night, leaving him only a whisper reminding him of her. All beautiful, but none real and shiny like the light in her eyes.
Masks. He looked up again at the building while lighting himself another cigarette, then continued his journey towards the day when he will meet her again.
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memyselfandela, 2013, Friday Fictioneers
Photo: Copyright –Kent Bonham
Heartbreak Redemption
Her pervious mind borrowed the cheerful child spirit into the age of balanced assertive thinking. Driven by her kinaesthetic sense she tried it all, got hurt often badly and learned her lessons very well. She made the rough journey from “carpe diem” to “memento mori”, deprecating her own ego and boosting her heart. Mitigating the material side of the existance she found greatest joy in the petty things full of life that surrounded her and her passionate heart got freed in time from many kinds of emotional skins revealing the core of a big romantic whose eyes closed for many things that make other women happy. For her winks coming from men, being touched accidentally or random compliments meant nothing, there was something above all these things that made her recognize love. Only one beautiful mind and one true loving heart could have been her love. She was completely resolute in her decision of never accepting half measures. She knew what she wanted and she did not allow anyone to waste her time.
And the day came when her fiery soul recognized that unique spark in his eyes. Completely silent in front of this epiphany of her life she felt that she found her one drop of peace in the deep blue ocean of torment: the enfant terrible found redemption.
¬ As I sink in the
beauty in your deep true eyes
my heart smiles and sings. ¬
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220 words, memyselfandela, 2013 , Ligo Haibun Challenge
To Be Or Not To Be?
Empty (bones)
crystalized (star)dust
bits of mo(ve)ment and fracture
a skeleton of past and loss
inhabited by phantom questions.
Only you give sense to all this.
I am.
Should I not be?
What would remain (of) me
without your love?
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memyselfandela, 2013, Picture it & Write
Life
Constant battle
Ups, downs, blues,
Blood, sweat, tears,
Extreme ways, bright thoughts.
Never allow fear to infect your soul,
You are a fighter,
You are stronger than you imagine.
And life goes on.
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33 words, memyselfandela, 2013, this is my entry for Trifecta
Last Of The Wilds
Last of the wilds.
Yes, that’s what I was born to be. I can lay in this snow and hold my breath listening to the silence , the meaningful silence of this deep wise breathing forest.
I can hear every creature breath around. The shy steps of deer, the hop of the rabbit, ths sneaking of the fox…
I remember how I’ve seen my father hunting a deer for the first time… How I cried watching the deer, how daddy cooked that night… And how I was eating… eating and crying…
Look at those clouds, and the light breaking through the branches… So much beauty… Such a fantastic light…
I can hear the voices of birds calling each other , sending signals in the sky, screaming my presence when I move. How can I possibly forget all that I learned in my childhood playing in here? I remember the sounds, the trees as they were 40 years ago, the paths that got lost and that nobody but me remembers… For the old men that knew this forest better than me are all gone, I am the last now… The last of the wilds…
living in the wild
the human heart finds things that
the eye cannot see.
hear nature breathing
for it’s your heart that makes you
the last of the wilds.
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220 words, memyselfandela, 2013, Līgo Haībun Challenge
Keep On Playing
“Hello my love,
I have just came back from the lady. She is amazing. I was absolutely stunned.
She barely saw me coming in and already recognized so many things about me. She even knew how they used to call me when I was a kid. I mean how could she possibly know that? She must have a sixth sense. As she looked in my eyes and read my palm she told me that in my previous life I was a man. Maybe that is why I am so stubborn in this life? I had an artistic soul, that would surlely explain why I am still so very much into music and art. And she told me “you know how you love typing on your laptop, the feeling of touching the buttons? well, in your previous life you had no computer, you had only your piano. And you have spent more time with this piano than with any person in your life”. I guess that’s why I love piano music so much. It must remind me of that life.
I asked her about you and me. She took a long look at my love line and said: “I cannot tell you what this love will be. Some things I’m not allowed to say”. But as I was going out the door she said: “He will find you again. Don’t be afraid. Everything happens for a reason”. Must be so, love…
I’m so tired now. Talk to you later.
Good night.”
After finishing her email, she found online the track she loved the most and pressed the play button. Laying her frail body to rest she closed her deep shiny eyes listening to the notes echoeing in the room and falling over her body and mind and soul…
Eyes closed the room was spinning as she slipped in a most strange sleep. She could see in her sleep the room and her body resting with a smile on the face.
Then she saw how her love was coming inside the room. He called her. Funny, why? She was there. She could see him, why could he not see her?
After trying to wake her up, with tears in his eyes he held her tight. Then called the ambulance. Then rested his head on her frozen heart.
The music… incredible music… Lord, what a fantastic feeling, the divine music kept on playing…
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400 words, memyselfandela 2013, Picture it & Write
New Life
Copyright-Janet Webb
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The car stopped on the narrow road, in front of the old house.
He could not believe the shape in which the house ended after those years when he was far away. Now that she was sick he thought of the old family house for a quiet life. He must find a cure, he must find a way to save her, he must…
Oh darling, look at it, we’ll have to repair, paint and clean it all… My God, so much work…. she sighed looking at him with love.
No, darling, don’t you worry. I’ll build you a new life.
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100 words, memyselfandela 2013, Friday Fictioneers
Listening
She is the only one listening
They might call her a simple cat
But she is her only true friend,
More faithful than any human
Her extra pair of eyes,
Smarter than a dog,
Faster than a jackal.
The old lady and the cat
One can see them everywhere
Never apart.
After a long painful day
She is the only one that sees
The effort it takes to simply walk.
In the end I think
They are not a cat and an old lady
But two angelic souls
Taking care of each other
Trapped in this concentrationary dimension
Called life.
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100 words
memyselfandela, 2013
Photo Source: Black and White
Full Snow Moon
Full snow moon reigning
In a castle of cold stars
Looking down on us.
Full soul solitude
Of heart that hears no word and
Has no hand to hold.
Full quiet of world
In this majestic moment
Of absolute pain.
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memyselfandela, 2013
The Key
You received a bunch of keys when you were born
Keys to open dreams and nightmares
And vaults and secret chambers.
Of all only one fits the mold carved in my soul
In my stoned heart.
As you’ll lift it and read its hatchment
You’ll decypher my name, my blood and my pain
And scarlet poems will roll on my tongue
Like drops of blood streaming from the corner of my bitten lips
Torn by roses that grow in a dream
Where we have lived an eternity together.
Return the key in its place
Complete my soul, revive my heart
And fill up my eyes with your eyes
Just like the sky throws itself into the sea
To pervade life and death in an endless smile
Of purple burning morning.
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memyselfandela, 2013
This is my entry for Picture it & Write
Abandoned
As the Communists were hunting them, Mihai, Ion and David decided to hide deep inside this forest, and so they became the only group of the resisance that ever managed to remain hidden and not detected for several years. The three of them, even though they had families, wives, children, had decided to never allow a soul know where their den was, after seeing how many times, despite all love, wives, mothers or children ended up by giving crucial information to the Political Police, sacrificing their own beloved without even knowing it while thinking that food or clothes or medicines will be sent to them.
By the news that the Communism was over and Ceausescu was dead the three men were absolutely reduced to silence, happy, finally free to return to their families and society but not knowing what a life in freedom ever could be.
They have left the den with a trembling soul though: a part of their life was left there and nobody could ever know what moments or feelings they have lived in that small chamber digged underground with bare hands in a winter’s night.
Sometimes they return to this place just to find again a part of their lost soul, as what for others looks abandoned will always mean only one thing for them : life .
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220 words
memyselfandela, 2013
this is my entry for the Five Sentence Fiction Challenge
after the nightmare
Relief,
The blanket over the inner blankness
Sensation arriving beneath ribbs
Of stopped seagulls, hidden white starflowers
And white lilies of the valley…
Never mind corporeality,
The relief wrapped on his child mind.
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33 words
memyselfandela, 2013
This is my entry for Trifecta
Angel
Family. She was tought that this is all that matters. And it was because she was born in South America, in a family of strong characters, that Maria dedicated her whole life to her family. It was not easy to grow up in their rich family with their strong father and extremely religious mother.
Maria was the best in everythng, better than her brothers. Now a doctor, mother of two, wife and daugther she was facing her own drama: the cancer only left her few months to live.
It was only now, after a lifetime’s sacrifice, that her family forgot all the rigour of rules and discipline and supported her. Countless drugs and treatments were tried, countless clinics contacted, a cortege of specialists came straingt to the family villa to see Maria and find a cure. Even the old mother, Lucia, swore crying on her knees, in front of Saint Anthony, that if her daughter will regain her life she will live like a nun for the rest of her life.
Yet, all money and prayers served for nothing. And all regrets could not make good this drama. Maria closed her eyes in a Sunday morning as the shining sun made her face look like an angel.
Tears in her eyes
Lucia regrets the days
when she gave no love.
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220 words
memyselfandela, 2013
This is my entry for: Līgo Haībun Challenge
Sad Eyes
That’s what you get when you cheat, my darling, you knew so well you were playing with the fire. You think I didn’t feel what was going on? I don’t regret a moment the day I left you. I burned every bridge I ever built between us.
Stop looking at me with such big sad eyes, I know you regret, but it’s too late now, darling. Now you can have her. Be happy. Life goes on. Stop thinking of me. Forget that I have ever existed.
What does it taste like when you kiss her? No, don’t tell me. It will never feel like us.
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100 words + …what does it taste like…
memyselfandela, 2013
This is my entry for 100WCGU
The Eyes Of Truth
when we will have tried
all the limits of this life
we turn to silence
when we exhaust all the paths
we become quiet and wise
when we have lived all
the pains and sorrows of life
we become stronger
and we look deep inside us
to see through the eyes of truth
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memyselfandela, 2013
This is my entry for the Trifecta Challenge.
More Than Words
What is love? Did you ever ask yourself this question?
Many people imagine that love is an epic thing. Yes, it’s the only feeling larger than life itself. But also it’s a simple natural thing hidden in the small gestures shared every day, in the care, in the simple thoughts, in the time selflessly given to the other one without thinking of us, our work or career or needs. Time is something that we will never get back, it’s life out of our own life.
Love is in the way we make the other one feel, not a second best feeling, no concession made, no favour that should be returned. It’s the whole heart or nothing. The loved one cannot be “another”, but can only be “the one”.
So what is love after all? The trust , the forgiveness, the patience we give? Does it rely on words? But words can lie. It should rely on facts, on actions, on the level of involvement.
Don’t dream about love, make it exist and make it real. Don’t wait for anniversaries and valentines and prom nights and New Year’s Eve… There’s no need for too many words. So don’t talk about love, just prove it, simply give it. Show it.
Show me, don’t tell me
Love is the quiet flower
Blooming in our heart.
220 words
memyselfandela, 2013
This is my entry for The Līgo Haībun Challenge
memyselfandela 