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.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Open Door

Photo by Simply Heather
Visit her Blog - http://joyfulbussin.blogspot.com/
And her Photo Blog - http://simplyjoyfulphotos.blogspot.com/
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Suggested prompt...
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Write today about a door opening.
Use this idea in any creative way that moves you.



_____________________

My secret place
Nobody but me
Free to dream
Free to just be

The door leads the way
To paths unknown
Step inside now
Before you're too grown.

Mandy

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10 comments:

morganna said...

Open, door!
I command you,
Open at my touch!
Show me all the riches
Lying behind you,
Treasures of my soul.

I do not open on command,
Or by threat of force.
I open with the touch of love,
Soft words, gentle perfume.

DCW said...

The beauty of the fastening seldom compensates for closure.

Dani said...

I remember that day the door was closed. It seemed it was closed forever. She had whispered those words to me through the telephone. Those words that burned me through to the core. The words that I didn't think I would ever recover from. Then it seemed that my life was over. The door was closed. Slammed shut tightly, right before my face.

Yet today I feel another door has opened. It breaths fresh air into my soul and I am lifted up with exhilaration like a soft warm breeze blowing in my hair. I am lit up with the natural light from what lies within. Love has returned to me, if through another form. It is different. Yet it is better.

The door is opening and she breaths life into my heart once more. It beats; it pounds. I am revived by it. I now can walk through bravely, for I know this time it will not swing back. It will not slam in my face like it had once before. For this time, she holds it in her hands, beckoning me forward.

So I enter.

Tin Kettle Inn said...

who knew a heart could scream so loudly?
creaking like a door
a chest cavity remains unopened,
inside, caged behind flesh and
bone, rib, cage,
a heart is locked away

but was divided
into, in two,
man and woman,
two hearts that beat
for one another
discreetly
behind closed doors

desire
a heart's desire
locked in a chest
desire
microscope specimen
observed through a key hole
by a serpeant
who tests a heart
by tempting it,
(with an apple)
promising it will unlock
the door

because he had the key,
the key to a heart
to open the mind

kick in the door
crack open chest,
wipe your feet
don't make a mess

sit down
make yourself comfortable,
we may be here a while
(or be doomed here)
our paradise lost
and locked away

so thanks,
sit down,
when you leave
(if you leave)
put the key back under the
welcome mat

back where you found it

Mandy said...

My secret place
Nobody but me
Free to dream
Free to just be

The door leads the way
To paths unknown
Step inside now
Before you're too grown.

Tin Kettle Inn said...

Mandy,
I absolutely love your poem, especially, "step inside now/before you're too grown."

glnroz said...

It got crazy and long, so I posted on my blog site. If anyone cares to read, it's there so not officially an entry.. thnx

Mandy said...

Thanks Tim! The door photo reminded me of the Chronicles of Narnia movie where the kids stumble upon that door and are led to that other world.

~ Denise ~ said...

@afart - profound sentence! ;)

Bryan said...

I stand at the door, questioning why it is I stand there before it. I know that I came to this place for a reason, but this reason continues to escape the reach of my mind.
I know that where I stand is a doorway, and in front of me is the door. I begin to wonder, what lies behind it? Some supernatural secret, or will it just be an empty room? These questions continuously go through my mind, sometimes asking myself the same ones again and again.
The iron handle is fashioned with several symbols and bolted to the wood, a permanent piece of the gateway. The wood is rotting and the paint that once was new and beautiful has flaked off, now decrepit. I grab the knocker and pound a few times softly...no response. I pound again, more forcefully this time; but there is still no response from within.
I reach out with my trembling fingers for the handle, it's cold and turns with difficulty, but finally gives, the rusted joints rubbing against each other; my heart beats ever faster as the ancient hinges creak slowly, like the beastly sound of some creature thought up by a classical people and the door opens,. The light streams out from the room. When I peek inside, something once lost meets my eye, and I smile.