Featuring those who submitted to the January 3rd to January 10th, 2011 writing prompt from #Live-Love-Write, here are the participants for this week, featured in style.
For those of you who use the writing prompt, please remember to put the #Live-Love-Write icon in your artist's comments if using the prompt, and please submit to the Writing Prompt gallery for your feature every week!
Please keep in mind that if you do not see your submission here, you have not read the submission rules and/or you have not included some variation of #Live-Love-Write in your Artist's Comments. The Writing Prompt submission guidelines are easy and simple, very clear and quite painless to follow! I'll do my part, you do yours.
Last Weeks Writing Prompt:
" A Recipe For... "
a recipe for..a pinch of salt to yield your wounds
so infection can't creep in.
a couple drops of lemon juice
to give the taste a spin.
a single cup of warm water
to warm your heart when it turns cold.
3 heaping cups of flour
to make sure this comes unrolled.
two thirds a cup of boiling milk
to thicken up the dough
two tablespoons of sugar to..
maybe three.. well, i don't know.
a couple drops of vanilla
maybe two, no three, ah, four.
be careful don't use too much flour,
for it will surely cover the floor.
and then you make the inside
so sweet burnt red and white.
but make sure you cover the dough
so it can hide and rise without the light
NostalgiaThe blind drag of your right leg so smooth,
Your look endowed with knowledge ages old.
It grasped my gaze and shook my mind but sooth-
Ingly it brought me back to tales long told.
We held onto each other's time, until
They separated us: dragged you from me.
So I remained, a tree alone at hill,
And not the wind, nor earth could set me free.
But then dear Fortune, graced with mercy, came.
She robbed my pain and cheered Victoria.
She lit again, with great rejoice, that flame
And fed me with her sweet nostalgia,
A realm wherein I dwelled for far too long,
Till drunken keys brought back your loved song.
recipe for happinessThe lover's eyes,
A pinch of smile,
Daily dosage of butterfly kisses.
A gentle heart,
Beating to the rhythm of mine.
Every now and then,
A single red rose
And when I'm down
A shoulder to cry on.
What else could I ask for?
When I have your love,
And your promises
For a better day to come?
You are my recipe for happiness.
A Recipe For LoveI add two spoons,
With some little kisses,
Mix it with half a kilo,
Of love letters and poems.
After half an hour,
Of cooking this in a gallon of water,
I've got the bottom,
Of an endless relation.
So I make the middle of it,
By six grams of nice words,
Two pounds of forgotten hate,
And to finish the middle a love song.
And the top is made of three words,
I love you.
A Recipe for......A Sane Mind
1 clean journal page(or more as needed)
1 full pen
1 cup red paint(for matters of the heart)
1 cup blue paint(for matters of the mind)
1 cup yellow paint(for matters of the spirit)
1 cup black paint(to hide the sins)
1 cup white paint(to brighten the darkness)
A blank surface
2 paint brushes
Add pen tip to clean journal page and let the ink flow.
Inscribing the day's scattered thoughts.
Or the pains of the heart.
Now, if you are of the artistic mind, as well, or still not feeling quite right, add part 2.
Place self in front of blank surface with one brush in each hand .
Use each color as necessa
A Cold Frame They're like ladies waiting for me,
smiling at the thought of how I would touch them gently in my hands,
and of how I would kiss them, hot, under the sun.
I would use my bare hands to shape their beds into soft cottons of loam soil
in their cradle I would lay them and smile at them while bearing the
three precious words in my l
everlasting friendship recipeListen, with an open mind,
Speak words of kindness,
Agree to disagree,
Compliment her on her good qualities, boost her confidence,
Tell the truth, it's always better coming from you,
Encourage, enlighten and inspire,
Always expect the ordinary to turn into a cherished memory,
Be prepared to spend hours at a time on the phone,
Offer well thought out advice in a difficult situation,
Support every decision even if you don't agree,
Lend your shoulder to cry on,
Hug her when you know she needs one,
Make her laugh when she feels like crying,
Be there with her favourite movie and junk food when it ends badly,
Laugh off the small stuff,
An Appetite For....
and the smell of your
sweat after you come home,
take off your steel-toe boots,
and jump into a
hot steamy shower.
The mess you make
by throwing clothes here and there,
never in the laundry basket.
Like I haven't told you what
it is for ten thousand times before.
The things you craft
to show me that you love me;
your little inventions that make
my life so perfect, so easy.
The sweet tender words
that caress my stress back
into nothing. The words
that you would never
say with anyone else in the room,
or to anyone else.
The way you look at me
when no one is looking,
The recipe for a relationshipThe recipe for building a loving relationship:
Prep. 1 month Bake: years Makes: 2 serving
2 cups love
1/2 tsp. listening
1 cup acceptance
1/4 tbsp. support
1 tsp. romance
3 cups of understanding
1/2 cup honesty
1/4 tsp. affection
3/4 tbsp. loyalty
1. Stir all these ingredients together except the phrase "I love you". Leave that out for 3 month or whenever it feels right.
2. Bake for years and don't ever let it cool down.
3. Never add cheating or abuse to the mix or else the recipe will fall apart. If done correctly results should end in marriage and children.
My Own VenomMy unknown plan, secrete ingredient,
Making enemies obedient,
Black liquid bottled for myself,
To unleash my hearts burning hell,
Just one sip, it just takes one drop,
For my heart to abruptly stop,
Black in my veins, a pierce in my chest,
Fall to the floor tasting blood and bitterness,
Breathe my last breath and inhale new life,
Vision blurred, is that a knife?
I can't see my hand in front of my face,
It's been so long...hours...or days?
Even weeks would seem plausible,
But suddenly I feel unstoppable,
An energy from a source hidden,
My own fault, I love my poison,
I thought I'd be frightened for this day to come,
When I fou
Invidia becomes herDear Conscience,
She went to the city yesterday, on her own might I add. A concept that she didn't really like to begin with. She never did like shopping on her own; it was supposed to be a girly thing to do with friends.
But alas, she got the 1pm train to the big gritty smoke and eventually found herself in the homely surroundings of a small book store with a café inside.
This place was like a second home to her Conscience, it was glorious.
She defines a home as somewhere you can snuggle up and feel comfortable in your own company. This place does that for her. It is a recipe for happiness:
1 Cup of c
This weeks (January 10th to January 17th, 2011) writing prompt is -
" Under the Stairs "
Is it a monster? Is it a box that contains your worldly possessions? Is it where you hide to cry, or make out, or hide things? Is it a doorway to HELL? You tell us!