This blog is for all who desire to create with words and images.
You are encouraged to participate in any way that is meaningful to you.

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All prompts beneath the photos are only suggestions.
You are free to use the photo to be inspired to write any way you desire.
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There is no deadline on posting,
you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
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Write and you are a writer.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Kind Eyes

Photo by Sabrina
Visit her blog - Nouns Make Verbs
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Suggested prompt...
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Write him a story or poem.



_____________________

'Kind Eyes'

Let me live
in your eyes
and see
what you see,
far beyond
all the greed
and drudgery

Oh gentle Soul
make me whole,
with kind eyes
that can see
further
than
just the 'me'!

~ SarahA

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE! If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.

14 comments:

droL said...

Hello! I am recently creating a blog where I post my own writings. As of now I have posted short story fictions, which I hope you will find interesting. THANKS. Click here to view my blog.

cagrowngirl said...

Here I am sitting down taking a rest from tilling the land that has been in my family for years. I have seen so many things - the young ones moving away to big city jobs. But as for me, I choose a peaceful country life - living off the land is for me. I hunt and garden and store the food for the harsh winters. I am the last of my kind in my family.

Sarah said...

Rip Van Winkle was a silly old man
but silly doesn't make you a fool.
And while others slept and wasted their nights
Rip sent himself to school.

He read every book in the library
and watched every film he could find.
And though the world called him a madman
Rip was slowly expanding his mind.

One morning they woke to find him
curled stiff by the last words he had writ
"Embrace the hours while you're breathing
for your time has a unknown limit."

Dan Felstead said...

Great Photo!
When I asked the Wizard, he stared back with a knowing, convicting gesture. His eyes told me that I did not have to ask a Wizard...to have the answer just given would be unfair to me. I needed to take the journey myself and along the way, I would find the answer to my question.

Dan

Crazy Mo said...

Those are my father's eyes. They look right into you and say "I believe in you. I know you can do it." And he's always right.

Simply Heather said...

The Divine Encounter

The man with those sea blue eyes, just a touch of grey and so much twinkle; I remember this man. He turned to me as I was walking down that dirt road, so many years ago. I had to capture the look on his face when he asked me to sit for awhile, so I asked if I could sketch him. Why? I wondered. Why had he chosen me, out of all of the people walking in this large crowd; what caused him to focus upon me? Not that I didn’t want to give him my time; I had nothing better to do. I was actually on my way to no where. Have you ever been on that journey?

The thing is…I’ve felt like a no body in this large world for too many years. The middle child, who hungers for a little attention from everyone; I know this about myself, and I’m okay to admit it. I was amazed that he chose me.

As I followed him over to the tree where he led me, I watched his walk. He was wearing a long robe, dirty white. He crouched a little in his steps, as though his knees were aching him; but he proceeded so quickly. He laid out a brown canvas looking blanket and asked me to sit with him. So, I did.

I sat down and he sat right in front of me, facing me and studying me with his wise eyes. I felt very uncomfortable for a moment, but then he told me to look at him. “Look at my eyes and tell me who I am,” he said. I was shocked. I thought he asked me over to tell me many things, to share wisdom, to listen. He wants me to tell him what I see, who I think he is. How did I know who he was?

My thoughts were to sketch him; to just sit here and rest awhile. I sat there, not knowing what to say and he took my hand. Pressing it against his cheek, he said it again, “tell me who I am”. Just as he finished that last word, a surge of understanding swept through me. I pulled my hand away, in fear and jumped up. I knew who he was, but didn’t know how it was possible. He told me not to fear him. How could I? I then realized that I was doing just that, I was in fear of him because I knew that he truly understood.

That day, I saw myself age. I caught a glimpse of the life ahead of me and the long journey to wisdom. That man was me. I did capture a sketch of myself that day and filled my soul with a deeper understanding to carry me through the rest of my years. This photo is one that I just took of myself, capturing on film that same face that I saw so many years ago. Isn’t life an amazing journey? It is puzzling, I will admit. Why I was able to experience this, I do not know but I will tell you it was a Divine encounter with truth, understanding and an ability to believe in myself.

Sabrina said...

Get to know the real man in my post for him...
http://nounsmakeverbs.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-i-like-da.html

e said...

Dear Sir:

Per your request, please find attached "Your Story."

"Your Story"

Once upon a time, a little boy lived happily ever after being born to a beautiful mother and a rich father. They lived in a bubble above all the other people in their town, because of how rich the little boy's father was. If the little boy wanted ice cream he got ice cream, just like that. It was a magical world, filled with treats and presents.
One day, the bubble burst, and the little boy and his parents crashed into the part where the rest of their town lived. If the little boy wanted ice cream he had to wait for a special occasion. The little boy wasn't as little anymore, even though he acted just like he always had. When he wanted something he expected to get it, and he'd get confused and then frustrated and then angry if he didn't get it.
His beautiful mother grew gray hairs and her face crinkled around the eyes. His rich father wasn't rich anymore so no one knew what he was. He didn't talk so much and he didn't hug the not-as-little boy.
All around the not-as-little boy there were other families, other mothers and fathers. Some were beautiful and some were kind and some were mean and some were sad. They all seemed different and they all seemed especially different from the not-as-little boy and his family.
As the boy grew up he remembered the magical world in the bubble with just his beautiful mother and rich father and ice cream whenever he wanted it. He wanted to know why the bubble burst, and how he could fix the bubble and go back to the magical world. It was all the little boy would think about, all day long, and the boy became very sad and lonely, because nothing was ever as good as it used to be.
One day a fairy came to the boy and blew bubbles all around him. All the bubbles clung together and then they made a big bubble made up of tiny bubbles. The fairy kept waving her tiny wand and making bubbles until they were all the boy could see. When he opened his eyes he saw himself in the bubbles, but since he was looking at his reflection, the bubbles made him look like he had a big head and tiny tiny arms. On the other side he could see the fairy, and she was glowing and iridescent and correctly proportioned.
The boy got scared and tried to burst the bubbles around him, but there were too many. He could see the tiny fairy with her bubble wand watching him. As the little boy struggled to burst the bubbles all around him, the other boys and girls in the town started to gather around and watch.
Some of them had little heads and long arms, some of them had long heads and long arms. It was like a nightmare, until the other boys and girls started to help the boy. The all clapped their hands and ran aroung catching the bubbles and watching them pop. The boy could see them through the bubbles and as the bubbles popped the long heads started to look normal, the long arms seemed proportionate. All the faces started to look familiar, as faces do, even though the boy had never really seen most of these boys and girls.
The boy swore he'd never see people through a bubble again, and that whenever he saw someone trapped in one, he would set them free.
Now the boy is an old old man. He has been rich and poor many times, and he has seen many kinds of faces.
He kept true to his promise, and because he never looked at anyone through a bubble, he got to live in another magical world filled with treats and presents, as there are all kinds of faces, and the old man treasures every one.

Sincerely,
E

Dani said...

Wow, Simply Heather, I enjoyed that very much!!!
And E- what a very interesting story!
---
I remember that summer I spent playing piano for those elderly people in the town nursing home. It was a project I was doing as a youth for my church. I was nervous at first. I would go every Wednesday and play the piano for about a half hour. It ended up being kind of like piano practice for me. I would sit at the piano and pretend no one else was in the room. It was usually quite easy. Those people hardly made a sound. I could just go play my heart out, and then go home. There was an old man that sat in a recliner and usually complained every time I came. He would always yell out "Stop that racket!" Then one time in particular I was playing a jazzy old number. (I tried to pick older songs from these people's younger days.) Suddenly I saw someone standing just to the left of me. I looked up and she was looking straight at me, dancing around with a grin on her face and nodding. At first it startled me and I couldn't play it as well, but then I kept going. Then there were two of them and they did this nice little jig throughout the whole song. I played some more songs but they had to sit down and rest after that. I believe I kept going to that nursing home after the summer's end to play when I could after school. It was a wonderful experience for me. Those people are so close to God and you can see it in their eyes. Windows to heaven.

Tracy said...

I laughed. "You are too silly, Neko," I teased. "But I am glad I joined you tonight."

It had been a long journey. Maggie was busy washing out her underclothes and Pol was pacing nervously by the doorway. I had given up on trying to get him to relax, to for once pull up a damn chair and enjoy the company of a stranger.

Neko winked and poured me a second glass of dry red wine. "I have been saving this," he chuckled. "I thought that I would save it for serving a queen, but I am old, and I fear that my nights are growing shorter, so instead, I will share it with a princess." He raised his glass to me.

I lifted my glass and bowed my head. "I am honored," I pretended gravely.

"So," he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand - an odd gesture - and leaned forward, seriousness settling in his old shoulders. "What can you tell me of The South."

I leaned back in my chair, not eager to talk about the reality that lived outside our doorway and over the low mountain range. I sighed.

"Well Neko," I began, "it's not good. We have been traveling for about two months, just staying ahead of 'The Rain'. Every now and then someone behind us will catch up - Maggie slows us down, you know - and they tell us some of the most horrible stories. 'The Rain' moves swiftly, completely wiping out cities, weaving a path of annihilation that we could never imagine. If we still had good communication - I would KILL to have the internet now! - maybe we could learn what is real and what is speculation, or even embellished stories. But for now, I am operating on the fear I see in my fellow travelers' faces. 'The Rain' is moving quickly now. My instinct is driving me north, but to be honest, Neko, I wonder if we are going to be able to outrun it, what will happen when we reach the most northern corner of this damned world?"

I took a big gulp of the good wine. This was a wine to savor, not slug down in greed, but I knew how these moments were stolen. Just like Maggie took the opportunity to wash out her underclothing and Pol worried by the door.

Neko shrugged. "Nothing to be down then."

I nodded, finding a flavor of wistfulness in his merry eyes. "Nothing to be done," I repeated.

I would have asked him to join us in our trek north, but I already knew the answer. Sometimes it was easier to submit to fate. But for Maggie, Pol, and me, we were still shaking our fists at destiny. Tonight I would pause for a glass of wine with kindly Neko, tomorrow I would return to our journey.

I still had hope that our salvation would be found in The North...

SarahA said...

'Kind Eyes'

Let me live
in your eyes
and see
what you see,
far beyond
all the greed
and drudgery

Oh gentle Soul
make me whole,
with kind eyes
that can see
further
than
just the 'me'!



(well it was just a 5min job, but at least I had a go; yes?)

Laura Jayne said...

SarahA - Welcome to PP&P... wonderful poetry. Yes, you gave it a terrific go and I hope you will offer us more of your writing.

:) Laura Jayne

AYESHA said...

wow...

amazing pic. i like the details

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