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DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

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memories

Joanna

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He slammed the front door shut, leaving her a name that echoed in the four corners of the room—J O A N N A. Joanna sounded like his ‘I love you’. Joanna tasted like his kisses. Joanna felt like his touch. There were no tears in her eyes just lips closed tight. She should have known all along.

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

Image Source: Favim


Written for November Notes hosted by two lovely and awesome writers, my dearie Rosema of A Reading Writer and Sarah of Heartstring Eulogies. Come, join the musical fun! 😀

Music Prompt for Day 4: Between the Lines by Sara Bareilles

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Memories

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There you go again, waiting at the very same corner on 6th street. On most days I ignore you— at least that’s what I barely manage to do. You see, it is hard to ignore someone you’ve so desperately wanted to be a part of your life but it is harder to put up a poker face and tell the world that you are fine. There are days when I pass that corner on 6th street and I feel the urge to punch you in the face. BUT I CAN’T. How can you smack someone who isn’t even there? How can you jab a blow on just a mere memory. Call me hopeless but your memories keep on haunting me.

Wind blows from the east
Eyes shut, I heartily plead—
Take these mem’ries, please.

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

Image Source: Favim


In response to dVerse’s Haibun Monday: A Little Romance

Tending the bar today is Toni with her piece, One on One. The challenge is to think and pull out your best romantic (or funniest or saddest) haibun ever in one or two tight paragraphs with a true classic haiku at the end – nature based with a cutting or pivot in the second line. The count will be 5-7-5 but some do write short-long-short.

Head over here to join the fun:

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Furry Love

I think my jar of poetic juice needs a refill so I’ve decided to take a break from poetry. Instead, I’d like to share about something that made my  day. 😉

Meet Tog (not his name), a gorgeous-looking stray dog dressed in a golden hue of fur, adorned with bold stripes and rosettes. Yes, you’ve read that right. He is a stray. But I’d say this big boy is too good and too big to be one though.

I choose to call him “Tog” for I have this wild belief that he is a half-tiger, half-dog. Crazy, I know. Haha! But look at his fur! There’s something in those patterns and his sheer size that’s alarming yet you could see nothing but kindness in his eyes. That’s when I knew I’m in love. If only I wasn’t on my way back to the office, I would have snuck him out of that place.

He reminded me so much of my two girls, Murd and Kler. Originally, they were named CC (cookies and cream) and Mocha based on their furs. It was when they started a killing spree, haunting our poor chicken and innocent chicks, that I named them Murd (muderer) and Kler (killer). They were spoiled and conceited ladies but they were sweet and loving, too. And I missed them.

Kler died two years ago of an unknown illness and Murd… was taken down last year. Murd was exceptionally playful who tends to bite and, although she was free of rabies, neighbors have complained about her habit. My parents never told me she was executed until I visited home a month after. It broke my heart.

Murd was a picky one (did she get that from me? :D) but I knew she would have liked Tog. They would have made cute little puppies of stripes, cookies and cream. Now, that’s only a far-fetched dream. *tears*

I just hope Kler and Murd are happy in Dogland and I pray Tog finally finds his home. ❤

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


Today’s Filipino word prompt is “gigil” which refers to the “uncontrollable urge to pinch or squeeze someone”.

Come on! Write a poem or a fiction
Snap a photo under the sun
A six-word tale or a long post, perhaps?
Let’s all get word-high this July!

Want to join the fun? Find the prompt words HERE! Don’t forget to pingback & use the tag WordHighJuly. Mazel tov! 😉

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Taguan

 

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http://www.tnmaa.net

Tagu-taguan maliwanag ang buwan
Giggles, titters, and silly laughs
Wala sa likod, wala sa harap

Little kids restless and eager to play
‘Pag ka bilang kong tatlo nakatago na kayo
,
Run swiftly as the wind; find a place to hide
1…
Climb the mango tree
2…
Crawl behind the shrubs
3!
Hearts beat faster
Breaths held like forever
Close your eyes
And wish the seeker won’t find


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Day 18: Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates “the sound of home.” Think back to your childhood, and the figures of speech and particular ways of talking that the people around you used, and which you may not hear anymore. Coax your ear and your voice backwards, and write a poem that speaks the language of home, and not the language of adulthood, office, or work. Happy writing!

Taguan is the Filipino version of the game, Hide-and-Seek. One player is randomly chosen as the it while the other players then hide. The it goes to search for them. The game ends when all of the players are found. The player who is first found will be the new it (the searcher) in the next round.

J is for J’adore

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J’adore is a French phrase that is literally translated as “I adore”.

In order to say “I adore you”, one would say “Je t’adore”, which is <Je> meaning “I”; <tu> meaning “you”; and <adore> meaning “adore”. You drop the “u” in “tu” because adore begins with a vowel.

One day, out of boredom, I decided to revisit my past. And by ‘revisit’ I meant looking through the pages of my old notebooks— my hilarious handwriting, the doodles at the back of each notes, those check marks and ‘x’ marks.

Then I found it.

Deep beneath the heap of test papers, was my twelve years old diary— all dusty and fading, I couldn’t help but laugh. Scribbled on its pages were words and clauses that once screamed how once upon a time, a girl adored a boy.

June 12, 2006, when you started to be the main entry in all of my ‘Dear Diary’.

Dear Dairy, I saw someone today.
Dear Diary, I saw him again.
Dear Dairy, Who is he?
Dear Diary, Finally got his name. Dexter.
Dear Diary, He plays basketball!
Dear Diary, He’s on the Top 5.
Dear Diary, He listens to E-heads.
Dear Diary, Does he know my name?
Dear Diary, He really does know my name!!!!
Dear Diary, He smiled!!!
Dear Diary, He smiled again.
Dear Diary, And again!
Dear Diary, Who’s that girl!?
Dear Diary, I didn’t see him today. Was he sick?
Dear Diary, Please tell me the rumors were lies.
Dear Diary, I saw him today— and her.
Dear Diary, The rumors were true.
Dear Diary, I know basketball now.
Dear Diary, I learned guitar and piano.
Dear Diary, I got an E-heads album.
Dear Diary, I made a poem.
Dear Diary, I topped the exam— well, except Math.
Dear Diary, It’s almost VALENTINES!
Dear Diary, He smiled!!!
Dear Diary, He smiled again.
Dear Diary, And again!
Dear Diary, I saw them, again.
Dear Diary, They held hands.
Dear Diary, They kissed.
Dear Diary, So they’re officially dating.

Dear Diary, What day is today? Oh, Valentines.
Dear Diary, I’m tired.

June 12, 2010 when all entries ended.

I let as sigh of relief and nostalgia, set aside my twelve years old diary— all dusty and fading, deep beneath the heap of test papers. Scribbled on its pages were words and clauses that once screamed how once upon a time, a girl adored a boy in utmost secrecy.


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Read more 2016 A to Z Challenge entries here!

Jar of Kisses

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Photo Credit: LauraE

Our hugs and kisses,

Sweet mem’ries;

Your hands clasped to mine.

At night I fancy

In my sleep

Fishing through my jar.

Keepsake of our love

And our smiles;

Jar of “you and I”


NaPoWriMo

DAY 1: Today, I challenge you to write a lune. This is a sort of English-language haiku. While the haiku is a three-line poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a three-line poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on word-count, instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again.

Read more 2016 NaPoWriMo entries here!

Some battles

I am over you— or so I thought.

For the tears brimming from my eyes begged to disagree as I walked in the ruins of Corregidor, one step after another, while our tour guide, Mark, eagerly narrated the tragic history of its ruins. I should be sad for the thousands of souls who have suffered and died, fighting for their freedom against the Japanese troops. My heart should bleed for Bataan’s fall.

But no.

Instead, memory lane brought me to the footpath of our past. A battle that was only written in our history. A battle that I have never won. It was the time when we’re throwing curses at each other like they were mortars; each hit led to an explosion. We did all the talking but no one dared to liste—.

“Mika?” a voice stopped my reverie and I was back with the tour guide again. “Are you okay?” he continued.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I nodded. “Yes. I was just thinking that someone should have raised the white flag.”

Word Count: 175


Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. Thank you Louise for the photo and PJ for another fun prompt. :):) 🙂

P.S. For some strange reasons I kept thinking of WWII when I saw this photo. Philippines, of course, was not spared from the bloodshed. A few hours after Pearl Harbor, Japanese troops came and seize occupancy in the country that lasted for 3 years. Thousands of Filipino and Americans suffered and died during that time. On May 6, 1942, at the Battle of Corregidor, Japan roared with victory.

…and sorry for the love twist. I couldn’t help it! 😀

Enjoy more stories here:

 

Colors

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http://publicdomainarchive.com/public-domain-images-vintage-kids-toys-books-fisherprice/

Nothing is ever as easy as it looks. When Mrs. Grelina taught us our ABCs, we thought it was as easy as apples, balls, and cats. Thirty years later, our ABCs merely stand for

Anger,

Bills,

…and Children.

Children, ha! Isn’t it weird how our world was the size of a crayon box back then and we’d simply grab the brightest colors to paint our dull day? I remember one Thursday morning, Mrs. Grelina asked us to paint a picture of our day and my seatmate, Jules, in his messy hair and oversized shirt, drew the weirdest picture I’ve ever seen. In his paper was a white rectangle under a tree. His world was dark as the night and on the corner of the picture was a huge portal-like shape colored in bright pink.

Back in my five year old mind, that picture was scary so I called Mrs. Grelina and told her about Jules. Then they talked in whispers at the back of her desk. I was actually surprised to find her beaming!

After class, Mrs. Grelina handed me the paper with Jules’ drawing and said, “Maria, Jules was upset because his dog died yesterday. But you see that bright pink color? That’s your world. He says you brighten up his day.”

Word Count: 205


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. The photo prompt reminds me of the eulogy I wrote for last week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt so I really, really have to continue sharing the world of Mrs. Grelina in here. ❤ ❤ ❤

This week’s prompt is: “Nothing is ever as easy as it looks…”

Enjoy more stories here:

Bag of Memories

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The last time, everything fit in three duffles. Four years ago, mom and dad left me here to perish—that’s what I thought then when your parents sent you to college in Belgium, a foreign country with foreign faces, foreign culture, and foreign language. Just me, my three duffel bags, and I in a jumbled mess.

I never would have thought I would come to miss this place. Its stinky corridors and noisy neighbors is a complete contrast to its neat façade but somehow I learned that it wasn’t so bad after all. My neighbors were fellow students from different countries and by the end of our fourth year, we’ve already become a one big, happy family. We laughed at each other’s flaws and cried for each other’s woes; one’s fight is everyone’s battle at the end of the day.

As I stopped before the cab that is taking me to the airport, I couldn’t help but take one last look and sigh. There’s so much memories and love in here. The last time, everything fit in my three duffles. I wonder if there’s a duffle bag huge enough to fit this place…

Word Count: 185


Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. An opening sentence is provided and we are to craft a story to under 200 words length. This week’s prompt reminds me of my college days. I was sent to a boarding school, too- not to perish but to have the best experience of my life. 😀

This week’s prompt is: “The last time, everything fit in three duffles…”

Enjoy more stories here:

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