Live-Love-Write Writing Prompt (Jan 31-Feb 24 '11)

Hello;

Featuring those who submitted to the January 31st to February 7th, 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.

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Last Weeks Writing Prompt:

" Stuck In An Elevator "

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Poetry

ElvatorOne bethvon's classis played in the back ground
The only good thing about taking the elvator was the music
The rest was erriry quite
The creek as the door wisped open
The ring of bell as the elvator doors open
The rush of the guests at they enter the doors
For the kids it was fun
But I was no longer a kid
The last thing I wanted to do was step in those doors
I was eight when I met my first ghost
I was on an elvator all by my self on a cold winter morning
I had forgettem my mittens
Mom alway insisted I ware on my hands
Only that morning as my fingers pressed the button for our floor
I heard voices
Not the ones of my imagery friend
But of a little girl who had died on the elvator
I heard her screams
The crushing of the elvator as it hit the floor
The flashing of the lights
Her death I could see
The minute my flesh touched the buttons of the elvator
Only now I was no mere child
Still the memory lingered
But when one worked on the 20th floor
Who wanted to walk that many flights
Only to avo:thumb195691223: Stuck In A BoxWhy do I see myself standing here?
It's not very beautiful
It's not ugly
I'm neither here nor there
Somewhere caught in the middle
Like I can't quite make up my mind
Part of me wants to drop
Yet somehow I want to climb
Shoot me past this ceiling
Throw me beneath the floor
I can't move in either direction
Why can't I move?
Oh I see them now
Big thick black cables
They have me in this box of steel
Hanging somewhere between reality
and fantasy
Tentacles of mobility
That no longer allow me to move
Black snakes that hold me captive
Demons that keep me suspended
Away from time and space
Separated from life
Distant from the rest of the world
Next time I take the stairs... Stuck in an elevatorMy thoughts are stuck in my soar throat-
Like elevators, failing dumbly to perform,
When currents wane amidst the roaring storm;
Or playful children, stopped from chasing by a moat.
And all the sounds my idle lips can say,
Are murmurs, deconstructed words that know
No diff'rence between blazing fire and snow.
And so, the mind just sends them far away.
In lack of tongue, they are locked up, or cast
Off flying in an ill willed, hostile guise.
They travel quickly and befriend the past.
Like stars, they rise up tall for all to see;
To be beheld and harvest wagons of despise,
Reserved for pouring into memory.:thumb195884790: asleep in an elevatorAsleep in an elevator on
pink lambs with goldfish,
wake up, find a quarter on the floor.
knock on the doors.
"Hello? Hello?"
but no one ever answers.
Asleep at the bottom of a well, with
allergies and what's left over from the small pox.
Bugs. Rain.
I pull a brick out of the side and wonder
who was down here to build such a wall.
Berlin would be
proud.
Asleep on the floor but
I woke up, roll over and find
gentlemen staring back at me.
"Who are you?"
But no one ever
answers.
Taken by cardboard, shivering,
curled around a tissue box.
"Quarter for the poor?"
But no one
ever
answers.
Wake up, stuck on an elevator with
a phone on the floor, I can see it
on the horizon.
I sit up, take it.
"911, what is your emergency?" A gentlemen asks
and he expects
an answer.
Woke up on a desk in
third period precalculus, drawings
carved into the wood that's really plastic that really isn't
carved at all.
I replaced the apostrophes with semi-colons because
I'm creative like that.
Berlin would be
proud.

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Prose

:thumb195866091: Going up?The doors infront of me 'pinged' open. I looked around uncertainly but as there seemed to be no one else waiting for the lift and no one stepping out I assumed I had called for it. The doors slid shut as soon as I stepped in.
"Hey there," said the figure sprawled out in front of me. "Have a seat." Cautiously I moved forwards and joined him on the plush couch. He didn't offer any further comment but instead took a deep drag on the cigarette held between his fingers. Surprisingly, the shaft wasn't filled with smoke. As though reading my thoughts the man pointed a finger towards the ceiling and an air vent. "It'll last as long as I do," he said cryptically.
I felt the elevator begin to ascend and glanced around. It was a little gaudy in my opinion but I guess if you were into the whole painted/gilded ceiling look then it would be ok. It was a very fancy lift. The cornicing (yes it had cornicing) on the ceiling was edged in gold and the walls were covered in an embossed cream wallpaper. Th:thumb195845145:

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This weeks (February 7th to February 14th, 2011) writing prompt is -

" A Bag of Candy Hearts "

It doesn't have to really be a bag, it can be a box, or a handful, but valentine's Day is coming ( -.- ) and with it, the feeling of love, lust, or total disgust follows suit. Let me know what you'd do if you had a bag/box/handful/etc of candy hearts.

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