Hello!

We apologize for the recent delays with prompt matters, but we're back on track and looking forward to your submissions.

Featuring those who submitted to the previous writing prompt from Live-Love-Write, here are the participants for this week, featured in style, along with information on the newest prompt. Please remember to fave this journal to help support your work and the prompt!

The piece that stood out to me most was:
SunlightI remember you being a goddess,
Flanked by two golden wings,
Sunrays stretching out from your shoulder blades,
Just reaching past your extended finger tips.
Azure skies painted with a careful stroke,
Fading to a point on the horizon,
Feathered clouds filling the expanse,
Your pale face turned upwards.
When the clouds came in troops,
The onslaught of rain,
You told me to wait for the sun,
The shower beating against your face.
On Sundays, we had picnics,
Red checkered blankets,
Finger sandwiches,
Steaming pots of jasmine tea.
We were children again,
Our hands laced with ribbons,
Butterfly wings behind our ears,
Laughing late into the setting sun.
I recall a time when you told me you loved life,
And I wondered how it could all be beautiful,
I wondered how it could be so pure,
Your eyes always were blind to darkness.
You were the sunlight,
Dancing until the last rays slipped away,
Drifting to the shadows at nightfall,
Sleeping in the dark.
The imagery and unique presentation of this piece speak for themselves; it's quite a lovely composition.


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Last Week's Writing Prompt

“Sunny Days”

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Poetry
AestivateI imagine the neighborhood laughs at me
- little scrawny me with trembling arms -
because I dance as I mow the lawn and
oh, look at the poor girl, she's gone loopy in the sun
but I'm so much stronger than everyone thinks,
and sweating reminds me that my body still remembers,
after all this time, how to work.
Yes, I may be lumbering along with one leg dragging behind,
right hand painted green as dandelion stems,
but oh well. At least my skin enjoys the taste of UV rays
that lap at the gustatory tang of my farmer's tan, peppered salty
with hay fever [creeping up my back.]
I lay with silent headphones in,
hidden amongst a bed of weeds [a blanket of creeping charlie, goldenrod, and ragweed]
so no one will stop to banter with the dead or quietly-living;
to see if the buzzards have already gotten to me
(taken all the "good" stuff as they pick-pocketed my organs.)
This is why I write wills, you see:
so the bum down the street will get my flashlight,
and my siste My Sundays
Sunday
Bad day
Worse than Monday
I got dumped today
I do not know what to say
It never goes my way
Pain won't go away
Sunday bloody Sunday
Worst day
Sunday
Sunday
Best day
Better than Friday
I made sweet love today
This love will not go away
It all went my way
No sign of decay
All is okay
Love stay
Sunday Just Look UpEven from where I drift,
that light which you call "Sun"
is easily visible.
I gaze into its eyes.
Your eyes.
Your eyes, as azure as ever.
I remember every detail,
every little aspect
that God required to make them.
My comrades call me crazy.
They just don't know where to look.
They don't bother me though;
I can see you, feel what you feel
from the edge of the Milky Way.
All I want is for your eyes to find mine.
Just look up. austriayou are every single day of my life that i wasted thinking
resentful thoughts about myself and my ex-boyfriends and the world--
and when i hear names like steinbeck and salinger and fitzgerald
i'll remember all the intellectual conversations that only made us
feel inadequate and when i listen to incubus i think of all the days we never had
(a day to remember and pk and of monsters and men only remind me
of how i am not good enough for you)--
and son, you are every sunny day when i looked up at the sky
and wished for something inexplicable--you are every sunset
that took my breath away and made me feel something--
you are every song that sounded to me like a sunrise, a beginning--
you are everything and more, and whenever i say the word sir,
it will always be your name behind my eyes--
sir, you are gone now, but i hope that your skies are always bright
and that all of your days are sunkissed even if i am not in them :thumb295953963: :thumb295956121: Sunny Day
Fred gets out his scissors.
He cuts off all his hair.
It falls to the ground.
His girlfriend calls him on his cell phone.
He doesn't pick up.
Fred gets out his razor.
He shaves his head.
He looks a little silly,
But that is of little importance.
He sweeps up the hair.
Walking outside, Fred notices a squirrel.
He doesn't see them often
Especially in this part of the city.
It is a fat squirrel,
Maybe because it has NO COMPETITION.
Fred walks to the garage,
And opens up his trunk.
He looks at the
Battery operated buzz saw.
And thinks for a moment.
Fred stole this from his
Job at a construction company.
He wants to split his head open
And see what his brain looks like.
He knows he won't do it.
He feels for the mirror in his pocket.
He steps outside.
It is a sunny day.
It hasn't rained for weeks,
And there is so little water.
He takes out the buzz saw.
He puts it on his forehead.
He sees himself in his mirror.
Doubt fills his mind,
He knows he won't do it. SunlightI remember you being a goddess,
Flanked by two golden wings,
Sunrays stretching out from your shoulder blades,
Just reaching past your extended finger tips.
Azure skies painted with a careful stroke,
Fading to a point on the horizon,
Feathered clouds filling the expanse,
Your pale face turned upwards.
When the clouds came in troops,
The onslaught of rain,
You told me to wait for the sun,
The shower beating against your face.
On Sundays, we had picnics,
Red checkered blankets,
Finger sandwiches,
Steaming pots of jasmine tea.
We were children again,
Our hands laced with ribbons,
Butterfly wings behind our ears,
Laughing late into the setting sun.
I recall a time when you told me you loved life,
And I wondered how it could all be beautiful,
I wondered how it could be so pure,
Your eyes always were blind to darkness.
You were the sunlight,
Dancing until the last rays slipped away,
Drifting to the shadows at nightfall,
Sleeping in the dark. Life Is Like SummerShining sky,
Burning bright,
Lush lavenders,
Growing in the light.
Star gazing,
Ice pops,
Screaming children,
Honey dew drops.
All is quiet,
In a single moment,
You lay beside me,
Without a comment.
You and I,
The road ahead,
My hand waving in the wind,
Catching the red.
Lips lock,
The sunset on it's ways,
There's nothing more,
I could ask for on this summer day. The Waves of UncertaintyThere is truth in my waves of uncertainty,
their message hidden in the foam of my eyes.
Don't look
         to the glass
                 within my heart,
it shatters
         much too easily
                 from words of the wise.
Today is a lovely day,   for a swim in the oil.
The clouds roll on in,    and the rising of the sand.
Black scales left in footprints that I leave behind.
Teeth bring out the fear of what's left unplanned.
There is meaning in my waves of uncertainty,
their honesty shinning in my bottomless abyssal core.
My hands
        won't stop turning
                 The Morning GardenThe Morning Garden
The sun rose against the darkness of night ; greeting a new day
Birds sang their morning song, high in the air
Along with angels to sound pleasant
A sonata began to play
The sun placed his banner upon the skies ; welcoming a new moment
Darkness was being replaced by the morning light
Although she wanted to witness the beauty of dawn
Which is gone since the yearful night ; and then returned to start over again
Finally the sun reigned upon his zenith ; the sun shone brightly
Yet he discovered a new oak tree by his sight ; it grows
Above the the hill to the edge of the skies
Higher and higher it gets ; and sweeter the fruit it bears Sunny DaysEight months in
And I swear it's still September.
I still have water in my ears.
Dirt beneath my nails
From all the trees we climbed.
Sand between my toes
From wading waist-high through the river
With you.
We still have sun in our eyes.
Is this really how time passes?
Like a mayfly,
Gone and dead within a day?
We hatch to fly and mate
Before we simply die away.
Our love is ephemeroptera!
April is our dusk.
It makes no sense.
We still have sun in our eyes.

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Prose

Mature Content

Sunny Days - PromptI look and think back, 'Man, that day was good. The breeze was just a bit strong but nothing too bad.'
It was the last sunny day I could remember. Yes, there were other ones but I liked this one the best. It had only been another Thursday, which meant I had a club meeting and rehearsal that day. Though I thought I had a club meeting but when I showed up, there had been only four people and one I wasn't even very fond of anymore. 'No point in staying here,' I thought to myself. This was the clear sign that after International Days/Nights at school, no ethnic clubs met up besides one of two. This club was definitely not one of them. Nor do I care. I remember the person in charge that I also didn't care asked me if I wanted a club shirt and I had shouted back "No thanks!" without any regrets.
Don't get me wrong, I love the club or else I wouldn't be here three consecutive years. It's just the people that I don't like. And a lot has happened with the whole shirt designing process so ending

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This week's (May 18th to 25th) writing prompt is:

“Lost and Found”

Some things may disappear, but some are found again.


You can feel free to write about a fiction scenario, mythological characters, etc as long as your submission is original.

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