Untitled (Response to Writing Prompts 12.07.18)

The beach was bare
No water anywhere
When all of a sudden
The waves were hudden
The horses were clairing at the sand that was merking
The horses’ pace quickened
Sand flying from the hooves released
The horses’ bodies lifted above the clearance of the piece of ocean that was coming under hoof
Then, all of a sudden, the waves left
The horses slowed and the beach was bare

By Caroline Jones

Lost World

Living in this world I was truly lost
Smoking crack was my ultimate cost

Being lost I did not know what to do
So I started rolling around with this low life crew

I thought I was cool – I thought I was bad
But to this lost world I been had

I was so lost, in prison I did 15 years and 8 months
All because I wanted to smoke that junk

I was once lost and now I had been found
So today I’m no longer chain and bound
In that prison compound

I remember that I was so lost I wanted to kill myself
Also, to the word of the Lord I was deaf

So instead of being lost, I get to live in the light
So to this lost world I had to take a hike

By Steven Haynes

American Dream

It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining. The air seems relaxed, happy. It’s fall and the leaves are turning, one of the rare days in Texas when the heat has taken a vacation, yet the sun and blue skies have stayed to play.
There are boys in the street playing ball. The picture of every American Dream. Until you look closer. Expanding your view. There are blankets and sleeping bags, boxes and backpacks lining the crowded streets. It’s a scene of homelessness, addiction, poverty and need.
Why do you shake your head and turn away? We are not worthless. Why must we be lost? So easily discarded by those who have no stomach for the reality of how fragile social station, mental health, and Financial Security can be.
We don’t need pity. We need a chance, understanding and purpose. Some need jobs others need treatment, we all need housing anyone could afford.
We are stronger than you could imagine. Our skin grows thicker as we acclimate to our environment. We have something inside of us that won’t allow us to give up. We can’t quit or we would lay down and die. We are at the bottom crawling our way up. Trying to survive Against All Odds
Some choose handcuffs and three meals a day with a bed you can’t get kicked out of, when times get too hard. Some don’t make it, but it makes us stronger when a friend lies down next to us, gives up and dies.
Could you survive it? Could you break through your discomfort? Could you stand next to us and play ball in the street. Finding comfort and joy in the warmth of a beautiful autumn day. A day when the sun is shining, the air seems relaxed and happy, when the fall leaves are turning. On a rare day when the Texas heat is on vacation yet the Sun and blue skies has stayed to play.

By Linda Jackson

Writing Prompts 12.07.18

115. Black and Blue: Write about a time you’ve been physically hurt.

116. All Saints: Choose a saint and create a poem about his or her life.

117. Beach Inspired: What’s not to write about the beach?

Writing Prompts 11.30.18

112. Rushing: Write about moving quickly and doing things fast.

113. Staircase: Use a photo of a staircase or the stairs in your home or a building you love to inspire you.

114. Neighbors: Make up a story or poem about your next door neighbor.

The Fair (Response to “Writing Prompts 11/23/18”)

The streets were empty
It’s 4am
The fair is needy
It’s 5am
The people are speedy
Setting up the case of jewelry
Knowingly the candy lollipops are laid out neatly
To lollygagging on completely
The baseball caps are hung sparingly
For the fair requires unrelyingly
The shirts require your attention
For your dollar submission
The boots are shown
With great unknown
About how they were handmade to perfection
The hologram was
designed to unrealization
The purses were sewn
with pure realization
of clarification of their utilization
The fishes’ clothes were made to fit beyond personalization

The people walked to the tune of the beam of sound from the bands playing in the room

The hotdogs demand complete digestion for the fair’s satisfaction

By Caroline Jones

The Streets Were Empty? (Response to “Writing Prompts 11/23/18”)

The streets were empty. Not even a single mouse was there. Was it because this was a ghost town? Or perhaps no one had been on those streets in a while because of bad weather conditions. Yes, they were empty until one brave young soul decided to walk one empty street, just to get to another empty street, followed by many more on his way to his destination. He found one lost soul. Both of them walked each street to find more and more lost souls. This one young brave soul was on a mission to find every lost soul before his 29th birthday. This mission began when he was only 5 years old. With all of those years, this one brave young soul had found over 3,000 lost souls – men, women, boys, girls, all waiting for someone to pass by and save them from the situations they were in. This one young brave soul did not stop at anything. He went through every obstacle to finish his mission.

By Jerameel Ortiz

Writing Prompts 11/23/18

109. Carnival: Write a poem or story or journal entry inspired by a carnival or street fair.

110. Country Mouse: Write about someone who grew up in the country visiting the city for the first time.

111: Questions: Write about questions you have for the universe. Optional: include an answer key.

The streets were empty…

More Writing Prompts (thinkwritten.com)

Lost

You see me but don’t know my name
I played music for you and you smiled
When I danced in the sun to a song heard in my head
You wished you could dance for a while
I spoke to you once on the sidewalk
You were gracious, compassionate, and kind
I was asleep on the ground and it was your shoes I saw
When your blanket covered me before passing by
You see me and in your heart know
Not all who wander are lost

I see you as you stop at the corner
You lock your doors and avert your face
When I pass you on the sidewalk with a smile
And good day it’s your fear that turns you away
I saw the look of disgust on your face
As I danced in the warm spring rain
You shook your head in pity as I fed the birds
What little I had to share that day
I see you and am filled with compassion
Because I know it is you that lost your way

By Linda Jackson