#MayDay 17: Article — Batman, Spider-Man, and the Everyday Hero #amwritingnonfiction


For Day 17, the prompt is Batman and Spider-Man.


Credit: Google Images


Heroes:

In the Dark Knight series, Batman appears to us tortured, his eyes hallow, body aching with misery because he can’t fulfill his calling. He was a hero but then he needed to be Gotham’s enemy, to be the horrifying ‘newspaper scandal’ of a savior turned evil. He had to lock himself away from Gotham, and transform into the Dark Knight (Christian Bale).

Spider-Man (Toby McGuire) was younger upon discovering his abilities after a spider bite on a university field trip. He didn’t have Bruce Wayne’s money nor Batman’s notoriety. His Uncle was shot in front of him and his bestfriend’s dad (his second father) transformed into his worst enemy. Later, his best friend became another foe due to a misunderstanding.

Nonetheless, heroes as Batman and Spider-Man have boundaries and rules to abide by in society such as not killing all bad guys but delivering them to the police if possible. They also have super powers and helpful technology such as the bat mobile and Spider-Man’s web shooting ability. They’ve weaknesses via character flaws (hubris), their friends, and family members, and girlfriends in particular. The enemy can take advantage of them through these flaws and people.

Heroes bear a weight because society is dependant on them to save the common man, woman, or child from villains. The problem is saving everyone, even the innocent, is not always possible. Societies and the media’s opinions can be unmerciful towards heroes — think of Spider-Man’s boss at the newspaper. There are also consequences to heroes such as Batman and Spider-Man saving so-called ‘evil people,’ as these persons practice despicable malice towards others.

As well, Spider-Man knew that with great power came great responsibility. Batman realized to serve as a hero was to transform into the enemy; to arise a hero in better days. I don’t know who’s your heroic preference, but despite people’s love of comic book and movie heroes, there’s a problem in expecting humans — even with super powers, to save everyone in Gotham, New York, or your home city.

Although we desire heroes to fix all our issues, we’ve been provided many skills to save ourselves and others from obstacles. However, we can’t always perform these tasks, nor can we save the ‘mini empires’ of the lives we live.

Sometimes we crash and everything we’ve worked for ends in ruins and we must arise and keep living despite. Even if we blow a work project, a homework assignment, or get in a fight with loved ones or superiors, the everyday person must learn self-reliance too.

Such as heroes like Batman or Spider-Man, people must keep attacking despite failure in life and face incredible challenges. Think of Batman’s fight against Joker (Heath Ledger) or Spider-Man’s battle against The Green Goblin (Willem Dafoe). We have to keep trying in life despite incredible odds.

We can also look to ‘everyday heroes’ in public knowing neither of us alone can bear the burden of a broken society. There will always be heroes, monsters, and villains and we can only do our best to protect ourselves.

Sometimes we’re an onlooker to evil, other times we’re as a broken record scratched again and again, fighting our same old enemies (sometimes nemesis’ — deserved retribution). Conversely, we act as heroes to kids, to those we work with, or are friends — even to people we don’t know. Not all heroes or heroines fight on-screen or via comic books.

Despite people’s attempt to become similar to a dignified Batman or courageous Spider-Man, somedays we win and others we lose in life as they do. Super heroes are the everyday man or woman epitomized. Myself, I look to prayer, to God alone who is the glory and savior of all people, the end to misery — even for Batman, Spider-Man, and villains too.


©️ Amanda_ME. (2020) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction: Dorothy – Three Is Company (Part 4) #amwritingpoetry


Credit: Benjamin DeYoung via Unsplash.

Dorothy heard a creak as lightening. A twisting of metal and a groan. She peered at the straw-man. “What was that?”

“It came from over there?”

“Where, by the copse of trees?”

Dorothy crossed the cobbled yellow road. Her feet ached. Whatever she did, the ruby shoes wouldn’t come off. “Chloe, it’s too much. I want these gone.” Her ever-growing black lab bounced beside her.

The straw-man chuckled and they peered over to where a tin-man stood. He squeaked his limbs and joints, maneuvered the muscles in his face attempting to move his fixed joints.

“Hey, you girl? You wouldn’t mind oiling my joints and muscles, maybe my facial muscles too?”

Dorothy quirked her head. “I suppose I could. How’d you get stuck like that?” Chloe sniffed at the the tin-man, and growled. When he shifted the lab yipped.

The straw-man leaned towards Dorothy. “Might as well give it a shot, Dottie.” He stood with hands on hay-filled hips. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

Dorothy oiled the tin-man’s elbows, his knees, his ankles, wrists, fingers, neck, and facial features.

As she worked she observed his computer was humanesque, but covered with a shiny exterior; his face as tin-foil rolled flat over each feature. When she knocked on his leg, the hollow metal echoed and she giggled.

The tin-man peered at Dorothy, as she stepped back all finished. He stretched his limbs around the copse. “This’s wonderful. That rain storm caught me off guard. Didn’t help the fires as I thought it would.”

He wrinkled his silver nose and bent his arms. He bent his legs this way and that until all the squeaks disappeared from his joints. Chloe leaped to catch a stick he threw her way. She returned it dutifully.

The scarecrow stood, his eyes thoughtful. “What brought you here anyways?“

“Same as many I suppose, running from the fires. My cottage burnt; I left and kept walking. The dense smoke was everywhere and then out of the sky, the rain fell. It caused a lot of haze but not much else, the fire’s still out of control. Everything grew smoggy and black. After my body rusted until I was stuck.”

“Oh my,” said Dorothy. “Thats terrible. It’s dry as dust and the smoke hangs in the air as a veil, everywhere; what isn’t burning is ashes.” She glanced behind her to the smog filled skies. “Cinder and ashes everywhere, people like you left with nothing.”

“It’s no picnic. But, all we can do is keep moving.” The tin-man lifted his oil can. “Where are you three-headed?”

“We’re trying to kill the last wicked witch and steal her broom. The first witch and her sister caused these fires. I’m Dottie, and this is straw-man.” The scarecrow bowed.

“You’ve met my lab Chloe.” The dog leaned against the tin-man on both legs, happy to have her neck scratched.

The tin-man bowed to Dorothy and the Strawman. “Nice to meet you I’m Jack. But tin-man is what everyone calls me. I was cursed, turned into a man of metal. They stole my heart mind you, my chest is hollow. Although, I’m happy despite.” He grinned teeth glistening.

The straw-man circled the tin-man, mouth open in awe. “Well, you look well for being cursed. It doesn’t surprise me you’re missing your heart. I’ve brains to think things through. Although, I’m completely made of hay. No curse, but my stuffing falls out.”

The two men chatted and Dorothy straightened her dress and fixed her hair. She pulled out a tiny bowl and fed Chloe chicken.

In an instant, a half-man, half-lion pounced from the haze of smoke and advanced towards them. “ Excuse me. How’s it going?” The lion-man roared.

Everyone lept backwards. Chloe yipped and hid behind Dorothy. Then, the lion-man peeked from behind a tree. Dorothy hid behind an opposite one. The straw-man and tin-man approached the lion steps cautious. “Where’d you come from?”

“The forest in the distance.” He pointed to the far left. “The ash heights, aptly named.”

The lion shivered. “I almost died of smoke inhalation.” He looked at his fur-hands covered in soot, shaking his mane.

“What’s that?” The lion cowered as Chloe barked in her face. Her woof had deepened on the trip.

Dorothy studied the lion-man. He wasn’t exactly, a lion and not exactly a human. More man than beast though. The tin-man stood in front of her. He guarded Dorothy with an ax (usually) hung from his belt.

“I’m Dottie.” She stuttered. “This is tin-man and straw-man. You’re a lion?”

“Of sorts. I’m trying to find a new home. You’re sleek creature frightened me.”

“That’s Chloe. She’s a dog. Just a pup. Don’t be afraid. Her bark is bigger than her bite. And I’m sure your bite is bigger. “

The lion-man grinned. His pointed incisors gleamed. “You’d think so, but my teeth aren’t that big, nor my sense of bravo. I’m afraid of everything.”

Dorothy did the tin-man chuckled. “It’s okay, we’ve all got things missing too.” The straw-man lifted his arms dropping straw bits. I’m made of straws, but I’ve no brains. We recently met the tin-man. He’s a real man covered in tin, but without a beating heart. Dottie here and Chloe, need to go home.”

The tin-man grinned. “Yep, need to find myself a tin lady. But, need a heart to do it.”

Dorothy hopped backwards and Chloe hid near. “Oh, well Gertrude (the good fairy) did say I’d make friends, good one’s along the way. Tin-man and lion, would you come? Be friends with us too?”

She nodded towards them. “As I told tin-man we’re off to get the second wicked witches broom and kill the old bat; she started the fires.”

Dorothy clapped her hands. “Oh, and there’s a wizard-magician too who might help, the straw-man said.”

The straw-man walked in thoughtful circles. “He’s in the city, the green one ahead. I think he can help us get the broom, and my brains. Maybe the lion-man’s sense of courage and the tin-man’s heart too?”

The tin-man and lion-man agreed with her and smiled. The lion pursed his mouth. “Okay. I’m in. Let’s get going though, the black smokes rising and coming nearer.”

Dorothy peered around. “I can’t get over how eerie and unreal this place feels. Was it always this way?”

The three men looked at each other. “It’s how it is here of late. The witches made it so. It’s improved I think, despite the fire.” The tin-man leaned against his ax.

“Sounds about right. Maybe killing the second will end it? Make the lands of Oz real, end the fires?”

The straw-man’s mouth curved. “Ah, the magician. He has forces enough to end it. Firefighters, and magic enforcers too. We need to find him first.”

“All right then. All agreed?” They nodded at the straw-man.

They hooked arms with Dorothy, the bleakness forever at their backs. Chloe ran in front of them oblivious.

Dorothy pondered if in a world where nothing was as it seems, could they all receive what they needed ? Or, would this emptiness, the hollow feeling of the Oz lands ever let up, witch or no witch?

She smiled pretty anyways and they marched towards the city of the great magician. Who knew what he was like.

(Thanks again from Frank L.Baum, The Wizard of Oz.)


©️Amanda_ME. (2020)All Rights Reserved. 
Continue reading Fiction: Dorothy – Three Is Company (Part 4) #amwritingpoetry

Notable Quotes: December 2018 Part Two #notablequotes #quotes #pinterest #poetry


December’s passed. Happy New Year 2019‼️🥂Keep going. ‼️🥳


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©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo Day 7/ Sunday Writing Prompt: Poem – Bop – “ Courage to Thrive” #amwritingpoetry #SundayWritingPrompt


For OctPoWriMo Day 7, the Prompt is unsent letters. I suppose this could be an unsent letter to myself.

I’m also combining with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt based on a collage and quote.


Courage Does Not Always Roar, Sometimes Courage is the Quiet Voice at the End of the Day Saying I will try again tomorrow.” — Mary Anne Radmacher


Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie


Courage is a voice that defies dread nights,

Beats obstacles with endurance, not might.

It’s the tears that drip down cheeks in tissues,

To be tossed, as a calm relief finds lift.

Courage is wisdom, despite naysayers;

Those disbelievers those jaded players.

Courage whispers, keep on going, you’ll thrive.

So past cracked wood and rusty nails I jump;

No matter, with each step forward fear thumps.

My mind scatters as the bumps grow louder;

But, I must keep walking, fears gasped aloud,

For I can’t be afraid I must cartwheel;

Beyond worries circling thoughts as I bleed.

I’m not scared; I know what I must do and not —

Slay Grendel, those demons eschewed, that rot.

Courage whispers, keep on going, you’ll thrive.

It’s a talent, knowing when to back down,

When angels morph into monsters to drown.

It’s not their whole, but apart of them lost;

Yet, the battle-lines are drawn — so I cross.

Past lush greenery, sunlight blazing high,

Into newness, uncertainties despised.

Courage whispers, keep on going, you’ll thrive.


©️Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.,

Saturday’s Hunt: Poem – Rondeau – “Midnight Prayers” #amwriting #poetry #saturdayshunt


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Saturday Mix and prompting us to personify an emotion. I can’t quite identify this one, but I’ll try. 

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Credit: Edith Hill

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Midnight prayers, bitter sweet, such raw aches burn, 

Reconcile the words, reasons my heart hurts.  

Midnight prayers, pleading for courage, concerns —

Of broken-hearted lonileness which —

Cannot be hidden behind work and lists, 

Keep yourself busy, exhaustion, pleads yearn —

To lay back and rest, a moment to breathe, 

Finding being busy deeply deceives. 

Just one more moment, I can laugh and dream; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

Here my desires, my concerns, my needs,  

Teach me to follow, in pain believe. 

There has to be more to life than alone, 

More than suffering, tears and sleepless moans. 

There’s a silver lining in ripped seams; 

Midnight prayers crying out, answer me. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Notable Quotes March 2017 Part Three #quotes #pinterest #writers #books


I’ve found such a treasureful of quotes this month so you all get a part three. Enjoy, a lot of these are book quotes which I truly loved 🙂

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Saturday Mix: Poem – Wrapped Refrain – “The Demon Spawned” #amwriting #poetry #saturdaymix 


Thanks to Bastet from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting today’s prompt, a “gothic” tale or poem — the macabre.

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Was such a dreary night forewarned,

In dirt squiggled both bugs and worms.

For they too felt doom bemoaning,

To be out on this night groaning.

A monster from hell was spawned, a demon seething,

Earth felt the heaven’s warn, evil darkness speeding.

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Why such a night did I choose,

To walk my scrawny pooch?

In a fight she would run straight home,

No blind love, she left me alone.

As twilight bubbled as witch’s brew steaming,

An evil curse my bones hurt knowing it was too near.

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Our little neighbourhood was vast,

In pitch black terror I was cast.

My prayers mumbled beneath my —

Breath; I begged this night not to die.

Starlight and slim moon were covered by creeping thick fog,

Oh, how wished, for even my cowardly scared dog.

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Felt I the breath of evil reek,

A touch of frost open my young cheek.

Of something old, of catastrophe,

An ancient wicked masterpiece.

A monster so dark, it did me choke, both claws squeezing,

All life from lungs, bones crushing while I was bleeding.

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And now I’m nothing but my soul,

I choose — serve eternity bold.

Be not afraid as I was of dark,

For now I’m light, a fighting spark,

Giving courage, weapons to those facing monsters,

Sending back the most damned beasts, to hell launching.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quatrains – “Tale of The Floating Bride” #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to NEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge prompt. 

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Credit: Zhangjinga.com

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Enchanting child in slumber keep, 

Red hair surrounds you as you sleep. 

I wait for you to wake from your dreams, 

No longer a porcelain doll preened. 

*****

A wedding gown white lace so frothy, 

Mother hoped your match was lofty.

That you’d found your life partner, 

Your prince, your man, for life to start.

*****

But day by day you grew sad, 

When pressed with his kisses ran. 

Empty feeling inside you grew, 

Like a butterfly away flew.

*****

Mischievous child, pain grew, 

His fist at your face straight-on flew. 

Hiding the bruises with powder,

Not even concealer shrouds

*****

Pride vital to you, tiny doll, 
Escaped; no one to catch your fall.
Fly in dreams with delicate wings, 

Winter ends, it’s soon your spring. 

*****

Gather your courage –call it off;

Don’t marry him, don’t be soft.

In front of the crowd, show each cut, 

Let them see bruises, you must. 

*****

So they know an abuser, 

Isn’t good enough, he’s a loser. 

He broke your velvet wings, 

Your sanity held by strings. 

*****

But it was too late even then, 

The lake too close; so your end.

Now you float, butterfly who swims, 

Eternity of light your win. 

*****

We tried to save a doll of glass, 

But on death she shattered, passed. 

Down below the water’s dark depth,

She’s tranquil, free; although, she leapt. 

*****

Mind too distorted, destroyed, 

Lover’s hands threw her like a toy.

World tough; his madness changed them both, 

In Heaven she smiles free to float. 

*****

He mourns her death each day, each drink, 

Pretty soon his rage him too sinks. 

Accidents happen to the unaware, 

She pulled him in, drowned his despair. 

—– 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Notable Quotes February Part One #quotes #pinterest


Well, January has passed already. For me, it feels like it’s still right after Christmas. However, I won’t complain when the winter flies by fast — the sooner it flies by, the warmer it will be in Alberta. 

But this too depends on several little ground hogs tomorrow, all who we do not really know if they’ve seen their shadow. So we’ll see, as for now some quotes to make you think. Cheers! 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – Thoughts of the Mockingjay #amwriting #poetry #fiction #symbolic 


Credit: Wikia

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Mockingjay, pretty bird or elegant deadly queen? 

A woman, a creature of dystopia and mythology

If there’s one bird to be, it would be a Mockingjay

Though I know they’re imaginary,

Mockingjays are real as symbols of courage.

Birds which don’t break, they carry on;

Nature outlasting outlandish experiments,

Reinventing, Mother Earth evolving and re-working, 

What humans would call a mistake; 

Yet these Jays cannot be hidden away, they’re fierce warriors risen. 

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As a Mockingjay, could I fly close to the sun? 

Icarus (I think) burned off his majestic wings doing such a deed, 

 I’d think a celestial queen of Mockingjays is smarter

She’s a stealthy bird whose whistle, repeats any tune heard, 

Her mimickery can be confusing to her enemy. 

A Mockingjay queen, would keep her scars hidden, 

Safe beneath feathers which float, as hope; 

Now fuzz, falling furiously as she grows, dropping downy —

Fast, no longer a chick adorned with puffiness

Now a full-blown black and white glory who sings life’s story, 

The story of pain, betrayal, and loss;

Your average adventure and most tantalising tale. 

Oh, what a Mockingjay can truly be, 

When her heads adorned by sunlight and truth,

Choosing her battles and using her melody

The Melody you’re humming to yourself. 

The sweetest songs of tears, quicksilver and liquid gold, 

Molten metal glimmering

She burns with fire in her soul, though she is no mythical Phoenix;

Yet she rises from the ashes of society and science

She repeats your tunes, the echoes throughout her wild lands. 

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Credit: http://www.nerdist.com

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You’ll never catch a Mockingjay, there’s wrath in her footprints, 

Her anger caused, ignites an inner flame brilliant. 

She’ll swoop from above and end you below, 

The dignified woman, no longer laughing,

Going to battle, her war song a trill

The Mockingjay flies her wings fluid, her form grace designed. 

A legendary bird of modern times,

Survival of the fittest crossing genetics; 

Nature re-designs better than a science lab of horrors

Mockingjay is more than bird she is the huntress

The symbolic warrior of Ancient Greece and Rome – Artemis;

Bow with blazing pyrotechnics and lethal skill, pointed at her kill. 

She lives and she dreams of the day, the war is long ended, 

Where revenge and the cold stone hearted have no meaning. 

Her desire is the melody so beautiful it thrills and heals

Enraptures a soul with clearly sung words. 

She’s a warrior with golden platted lashes, winged at her pray;

A sultry seductress and and goddess flying free. 

Mockingbird walks, she sways, feathers flocked close, 

She’s as precious as the sparrow, calling lonely for her love.

She’d scarred, her heart torn

So strong but in need of help most of all. 

Even symbols of strength such as her, 

Who mimick a fictitious tune with ease;

Need more than survival to hope for. 

She needs more than, a gilded bird cage. 

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Credit: Laces and Tiaras

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.