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.

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

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

The House

Photograph by François Dubeau
François' photos and a link for his art can be found at -
http://www.francoisdubeau.com/photos/
~
Suggested prompt...
~
There is a little boy/girl in the house.
Write a story about him/her.
The challenge make it sad, tragic even. Make us cry.
~
(Remember all prompts are just suggestions,
you want to write a happy story about daisies, that works too.)



______________________


1

It’s happening again. This time I’m not asleep. I know this house but how do I know this house? Something’s got to give. I used to see it in my dreams over and over again but now I it flashes through my head like a lightning strike. I can’t stop thinking about it. I told Mr. Wright here at the foster home about it. He knows why I can’t see the house but he won’t tell me. Where are my mom and dad….would they know whose house it is? Are they even alive?

2

The flowers are beautiful. How can they be in the same image as this dreadful house? When I see the image again, I am going to just look at the flowers. I can’t, I focus on the whites and yellows and greens but the house draws me in. I can’t sleep now; I know what will happen over and over again.

3

Mr. Wright is worried about me, he says I ‘m preoccupied and won’t talk to the other kids my age. They seem normal, what is wrong with me? It must be my fault. It is my fault. Something happened in that house and it was my fault.

4

Mr. Wright says we are going to take a trip today. It will answer some questions but I should know that it is too soon to understand everything. We are leaving and heading towards the outskirts of town…I remember that small grocery store, “hey” I said, “stop” …I used to go in there when I was very young and my dad would….I remember my dad being with me! This is the town where I used to live. Where are they now, why did they put me in a foster home?

5

It was beginning to sleet when we pulled into the graveyard. Mr. Wright knew where we were going, he had been there before. The rose granite gravestone read: “Millers …Dedicated Husband, Wife and Beloved daughter”….”Taken into your loving arms, April, 1980”. I’m Chase Miller. It’s my family. How did they die? Why don’t I remember? It’s my fault. I was only 3. Why am I still living….it must be my fault.

6

I am now 28 and married with two children of my own. The day that Mr. Wright took me to the grave site was the day my obsession mercifully stopped. When we got back to the foster home, Mr. Wright showed me a picture of a house….a house in crisp focus….the house that I couldn’t get out of my head. The house that was driving me insane. It was a spring day in April, I was only three and wandered out to mom’s flowerbed. She told me we would watch the flowers grow. Mom always went with me but that day, she was busy cooking breakfast and getting dad off to work and Leah off to school so I went on my own. The trauma of the natural gas disintegrating the house and everything I knew right before my very eyes was too much. The counselors told me that I coped by eliminating the past from my memory. Into my early teen years, the image of the house began to resurface and had to be dealt with. Now, I know it wasn’t my fault and I have the crisp, in focus photo of a blue and white house with a wonderful flower garden framed and hanging on our wall. A link to my past and a release to let me live the rest of my life in honor of a family….my family. Thank you Mr. Wright.

~ Dan Felstead


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.

Monday, December 1, 2008

Misty Peak Truths

Photo by Hubby
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Climb to the misty mountain top,
what truth will be revealed by the guru there?


__________________________



I stood there with the dark, misty heights towering over me and knew I had three choices…

I could turn back and return to where I had come from.
Give up.
Admit I was not good enough, and never would be.
Abandon my dream.
Never know what I had lost.
QUIT!!

I could stay where I was.
Refuse to admit defeat.
Never find the courage to move forward.
Abandon what had been, as well as what could be.
Wallow in my hole.
STAGNATE!!

I could move on.
Dig deep within me to find the courage.
Overcome obstacles, as I came too them.
Discover beauty in new and exciting places.
Persevere when times were hard.
GROW!!

I stood there with the dark, misty heights towering over me and took a step…FORWARD!!

~ Boing



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.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

C - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt

~
Suggested Prompt...
~
C is for Coffee
Write a poem, story or an essay that includes a cup o'joe.



_________________________



Squirrel Hunting With Grandpa


Three a.m. on a winter morning in the 1940s
I water and feed the rabbits (why do I always get the cold job?) as grandpa put homemade biscuits in the top warmer
of the woodburning 4-burner stove. Grandma slept in.
Grandpa made the coffee strong
Handful in a pot of boiling water, one of those gallon sized
Blue Ceramic with white flecks coffee pots.
To the smoke house, slice off fresh cured bacon with rind on
Fry to a crisp, remove coffee pot from stove
Put bacon on towel to drain
Crack two brown hen eggs at a time
Into the smokin' bacon grease they go
Throw the shells into the coffee pot to settle the grounds
(In those days there were no electric coffee makers with paper or gold filters)
Turn the eggs once when edges are brown
Butter the biscuits (real butter) and call Jim
Fix his plate first while his eggs are frying.
Grandpa had everything down to a science. His coffee was so strong it was a task to close one's eyes after drinking a cup. Without cream or sugar. Black Coffee. Steaming hot. The perfect drink preceeding a squirrel hunt, Grandpa's favorite prey. Couldn't even blink!
Eggs were done clear through, bacon crunchy, biscuit crusty,
soft buttery inside, gone in a flash.
Grandpa sits down, drinks his coffee, tells me to go start the truck, a 1949 GMC 3-speed stick shift green farm work stinks like chickens and pigs and hay vehicle. Grandpa trusted my driving skill since both he and my step-father taught me to drive when I was six years old. We gleaned corn from farmers' fields to feed the pigs. My cousin Denny never learned to shift too well...because I always put it in high gear when it was his turn to move up the row. He stalled the motor every time, and Grandpa would yell, 'Danny, get out and let Jim move the truck.' Denny fumed. He didn't like to hunt or do anything outdoors, I guess that is why Grandpa favored me.

Grandpa put the guns we had oiled and checked the night before into the space in back of the seat (he never put them outside where they could be stolen). Unloaded, of course. Three primary rules never to be broken around Grandpa was that you always assumed a gun is loaded, never point it at anything you're not going to shoot, and never run with a gun. Violation of any of Grandpa's rules resulted in a painful trip to the smokehouse, where he kept a cured rawhide paddle. Three whacks on the bare bottom was the usual fare, and one dreaded a fourth swat. He rarely went that far, however, knowing the embarrassment that just going to the smokehouse caused. Everyone knew the procedure: Enter, drop your drawers, bend over. No pleas for mercy, no whimpering, no screaming. Just endure the three, then you're done. The worst part is walking out to the twitters of the assembled friends and relatives. Part of the punishment was the humiliation. I only went to the smokehouse three times. That first trip brought me four whacks. I learn fast.

Driving 50 miles to the Younger farm (yes, relatives of the Jesse James gang) in Chester, Illinois in the pre-dawn darkness took over an hour, so it was almost sunup when we arrived. We took our position in the hickory woods and waited, usually back to back. Grandpa usually got his limit of 5 squirrels in just a couple of hours. He was a combination stalker/camouflaged ambusher. His trusty .22 rifle was his preferred weapon for squirrels, and a 16-gauge double-barreled shotgun for rabbits. His squirrels were normally shot through the head, as Grandpa didn't want to waste the meat. He bought me my first gun, a Savage-Stevens .410 gauge double barrel, which I learned to use with deadly proficiency under his tutelage.

Making a mistake with a gun was something Grandpa never did, and if we did, we paid for it. I did on two occasions. One, after my very first kill at age 8, I ran with the rifle to retrieve the squirrel, I was so excited. I remember begging with Grandpa not to take me into the smoke house, all the way home. It did no good, only made matters worse. I got the four whacks.

I drank coffee most all the time at Grandma and Grandpa's. They also let me smoke. Bull Durham, roll-your-own. I was twelve.

I smoked for 20 years, up to 4 packs of Pall Mall or Camel or Lucky Strike (no sissy filters for me, like Marlboro) before I quit cold turkey. I also quit drinking alcohol. I still drink coffee, though, hot and black or sometimes with a bit of cream and friendly conversation with friends. Marvelous beverage!

Jim Pankey, USN (Ret.)



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.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

Colorful Inspiration

Photo by Lisa
Lisa's blog - Wearin' My Heart on My Sleeve
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
1. Describe in rich detail the colors in this photo.
2. Create a piece of writing using some/all
those descriptions in a unique way.



_____________________



Petals the colour of freshly churned butter melt into the rich crimson as soft as a crushed velvet bedspread. Royal purple, irridescent against the buttercup yellow stamens, bursts forth from the red and orange heart of the flower. In the back ground cool baby blues and vibrant greens vie for attention among the purples, oranges, yellows and reds, all over looked by blinding white.

Martin lay on the scree, hidden by the short wind blown bushes. He looked through his binoculars at the cave. The dragon lay sleeping, its large body contorted into colourful folds. The scales on its back were rich crimson, blending to ochre and buttercup yellow on its belly. Flashes of irridescent purple coated the bony ridge that stretched across its back. Martin thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The wind changed and the dragon woke. It opened its baby blue eyes and gazed towards Martin. He was transfixed. It raised its head. The inside of its mouth was deep red, soft as velvet. The flame came out of its mouth orange but it was white hot by the time it reached Martin. He never had a chance of escape.

~ InkPot



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.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Black Friday

Photo by Dan Felstead
Wood and Pixels Narratives - http://www.woodandpixels.blogspot.com/
ETSY Shop: Wood andPixels - http://www.woodandpixels.etsy.com/
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Tis the season?



For those not in America here is an explanation of Black Friday.
Though do not feel you have to write of holiday shopping,
anything that you find holiday inspired.



____________________________

T'is the season of snow
though not everywhere
does the ground become white
with cold Winter air.

T'is the season of lights
except in the dark
in the deep forests unreached
by the gaze of the stars.

T'is the season of love
for all those who have it
but not for the lonely,
forgotten and deprav'ed.

T'is the season of hope
for those that are lost
that they may find their way
to warmth and not frost.

T'is the season of faith
in whatever you believe
not only Hannukah, Kwanzaa
or Christmas Eve.

T'is the season of joy,
celebrations unfurl,
for anyone and everyone
all over the World.

~ Cynthia S



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.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Thankful

Photo by Cyndy
~
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested prompt...
~
I am thankful for...



___________________________

Gratitude

Warmth shines,
a golden hug spreading
through the field.

Take my hand and
we'll walk

together
comforted
hoping,

thankful for this
new day.

~ Angie Werren



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.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Dreams of the Heart

Art by Aleta Jacobson
Aleta's art on MySpace & Tripod
~
Suggested prompt...
~
My heart dreams of...



_______________________


My heart dreams of Picasso, Dali, sno-cone's with tiger's blood flavoring, a heaven that everybody gets into, a passionate kiss, laughter so pure and good and contaigous. My heart dreams of beautiful girls falling in love, puppies wagging the nubs of tails as their momma comes in from the backyard with full teats hanging. My heart dreams of utopia, of better medicine, of satellites harvesting solar power and beaming it down to the energy-hungry masses. My heart dreams of the perfect words which, when set down on the page just so, would say it perfectly, would say it so well that any more words would be overkill. My heart dreams of poetry, of supernovas lightyears across, the sound of a baby's feet slapping on clean hardwood, and a taste of God.

~ Killerwit


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.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Who's afraid of the...


Photo by Cyndy
~
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
http://www.pbase.com/cyndycat
~
Suggested prompt...
~
Write a story from the villian's (any villian's) perspective.
Perhaps the big bad wolf is simply misunderstood.


_____________________________

Once upon a time
The wolf gobbled up grandma,
An ageing and somewhat chewy old bird.
"It's always a pleasure to help
Reduce the health care cost
To society,"
He thought to himself,
Contentedly.

~ Sacha van Straten




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.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Crossing

Photo by
S. Kay Murphy
~
Suggested prompt...
~
Cross the bridge. What is on the other side?



____________________________________



Dense fog had made the journey quite tough. She saw the outline of the bridge from a distance but couldn't make out its detail.

With each step she took, another detail filled in.

With each step she took, she was closer to her past being past.

With each step she took, she was closer to her future being now.

And, the bridge was change.

~ Denise



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.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

B - Sunday's Alphabet Prompt


Photo by Cyndy
~
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested Prompt...
~

Quick think of three B words...
now write a piece using them.
(yes, pick new words if you must... no one is grading you.)
.

.

Do you have a letter of the alphabet picture?
Email me... themuse.honey@gmail.com - Sunday is Alphabet prompt day.




________________________


Beauty asked the big, bad beast,
Do you plan to harm me?
I plan to love you.
Oh, really?
Yes!

~ RCBonay



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.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Searching for...

Photograph by François Dubeau
François' photos and a link for his art can be found at -
~
Suggested prompt...
~
She was searching for...



____________________________


it was there all the time

she gazed across the sea of green
to the place where she had come
where was she going?
what did she think she was doing?
there were no answers for her on this side
but
what she didn't know was what she had been seeking
was all around her
within her
she only needed to open
her heart
to see
go off the beaten path
he said
go beyond your wildest dreams
he said
what he didn't say was
that this would
be the hardest journey of her
life
she would not have a map
she would not have a guide
she would be alone with only her wits and her strength
what she didn't know was that
she loved this
she knew just where she was going
she didn't need anyone to tell her what to do
she just did it
by her wits and her strength
and then she realized that the true
journey
was not on that path
nor across that bridge
but the journey was within
for all that she was seeking
it was there all the time

~ TesoriTrovatiJewelry




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.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Sit For a Spell

Photo by Dan Felstead
Wood and Pixels Narratives - http://www.woodandpixels.blogspot.com/
ETSY Shop: Wood andPixels - http://www.woodandpixels.etsy.com/
~
Suggested Prompt...
~
Come sit for a spell and tell of tale from your life.



______________________________

Beyond the porch
Which marked the border
Of our independent state
Of being,
You carried me once,
Out of daydreams
And into my hopes,
Where languidly we would sit
And marvel at the stars,
'I wonder,' you used to say,
'If they can see the brilliance of our love
Shining out to them
Through the darkness?"

~ Sacha van Straten



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.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Find a Penny...

photo by Kathryn
for more of Kathryn's photography visit -
~
Suggested prompt...
~
Luck



__________________________________

as i was taken away in cuffs
head pushed into the door while forced into the car
they let her walk away
i couldnt believe my luck

driven to the station
pulled out of the backseat
pushed into a wall
i couldnt believe my luck

sworn at, and spit on
looked down upon
these small town cops are brutal
i couldnt believe my luck

my mother was out of town,
and i only get one call
" hi dad"
i couldnt believe my luck

stuck in a cell for hours
while my father waits outside
and the reverend from the church
i couldnt believe my luck

after a long ride home
my father did all that he could
not to knock me out
i couldnt believe my luck

court soon, better get that collared shirt
public defender
poor town
i couldnt believe my luck

lawyers to the stand
i prayed to god
tears fell from my eyes
there is no such thing as luck

~ Halyzon



.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This 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.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Nevermore

by Cyndy Largarticha
For more of Cyndy's Photography visit
~
Suggested Prompt...
~


____________________________

big black bird
when i first saw you
you were very big
i fed you crunbs
from my cookie
i was delighted to see you

i next saw you picking at something
on the asphalt
i wondered what it was
you minded the cars
as they drove by
jumping away
waiting
and coming back
as each one passed

then i saw you in the big field
where stones grow
with names carved into them
some standing straight
some askew
i was crying that day
and you cocked your head
inquistively
then you raised your great black wings
and flapped noiselessly
away

today
you have come
again
to me
it seems to be the day
you are a beautiful bird...
noiselessly
you landed
in my garden
i didnt see you until i looked up
your head cocked to the side
inquisitively

its no matter
at all

~ JustSomeThoughts


_________________

.

One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This 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.