Tag Archives: writing
The result of this prompt, courtesy of Kellie Elmore’s post “Free Write Friday: Word Bank”:
A lazy cascade of violets.
the rain follows the curve of the river.
One’s perspective can always change, one tear changing the ultimate “big picture”. it’s not a trinket to be tossed away.
Be somber for as long as you can manage…it’s glint can be beautiful in the sunlight.
The static of rain covers everything.
From this writing prompt:
I didn’t expect him here, a glint of starshine between my eyes and my own comet to make a wish on.
He paints his dreams in the shadows of his studio, laid out from what the maze of his mind might look like: paint, canvas, india ink, brushes all a forest of protection, as if he thought angered Gods might try to strike him as punishment for not forming their divine likenesses first and foremost. Salvador Dali possesses his work, with surrealist curves and smooth bright colors, but the grey palor of worry seeps into his face. He knows now that my love for him isn’t enough for him to keep on creating…and I have not said one word.
The result of this prompt:
She stared at her reflection in the silver spoon.
A moment with simple eyes and a relaxed mouth.
Only to reflect, reflect, reflect.
Bitten lower lip and slow thought process…
She came about, silver and round with a new awareness.
The introspection is almost over and slowly it drips down into the world that is made of water.
Results of writing prompt from here :
I’m hiding from myself in darkness with amber eyes. They only lie in wait if I make the slightest noise, the other part of the time they ignore what may lurk in THEIR own darkness. Darkness is a funny thing…it is not ALL dark if you look close enough you can sense the tiniest point of light. Next to nothing other than that. I let it lead me sometimes to other parts of my mind, digging up uselessness and dusting off quiet wonders. Nothing is as it seems there, which can be good….we go blind as we get closer to the truth.
My result of this prompt called “Night”:
At night, I can hear the owls and their wisdom, the darkness of their world. In between the grey-ness of mine and theirs, I see my own light neat with bursts of wonder. My world opens up with them, hoots and rustles. I often wonder how far ahead they can see since darkness can be stifling and how they can sense a blockage in front of them…or how they can see their next evening meal in hope that the meal is in proximity. I have never doubted their hunting skills in the dark.
The result of a poetry prompt found here:
It happened in a moment
my wet, churning heart locked
in a vice
it beats through the flexible metal.
second to second. Then comes contact
the web, protection against a careful weapon spreads
to stave off the effect that switches from form to form, needle to feather, poison to cure
Copyright 2013 CarrieLynn Gerard