 Image by Myriam By Robert Stanhope
The words were scorching, the lines flowing like lava, singeing the pages like wooden matchsticks, the plot igniting, turning to ashes in the wind, on the barren land, one ember smolders, sparking another story.
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I went to my favorite doctor today, you know, the dentist. The staff is quite friendly, all smiles. The dentist then greets me with a needle and a, "Good morning!" As the treatment progressed and my entire face numbed, I thought I was quite special when he paused and said, "Excuse me for a moment, I need to get a diamond. Of course, that spoils the surprise. And honestly, being a taken man, I wouldn't accept his proposal. Being crowned is quite enough and what I was expecting. But, I had no choice in the matter. Before I knew it, the diamond was in my mouth. Wait! What? Diamond and gold? "We need to smooth things out before we can place the temporary crown," says the dentist.
I guess my royalty is in question. I get a trial run to see if I'm worthy of a permanent crown? His assistant then leaves me with these parting instructions, "Nothing sticky, chewy, or crunchy." They must be optimistic. They want me to look good when I get my permanent crown. Though, I didn't know there'd be such pomp and circumstance. I hope my insurance provider is covering the cost of such celebration. I wonder if it's proper to invite guests. A few times in my blog I have discussed writing prompts. You can search Google for writing prompts. You can open a Twitter account and participate in daily prompts from various authors in a variety of genres. The great thing about prompts is that they get the muse going. You can adapt them to your writing style. I use them primarily to practice writing concise lines. Since I enjoy writing poetry and flash fiction, being concise becomes extremely important when I want to enter writing contests with limited line submission guidelines or limited words. WRITER TIP: Keep a log of writing prompts and your prompt writing. This journal can be a useful reference if writer's block strikes. Today, I practiced with the prompt for #MuseMon which was the word save. Here are a few samples. I saved the moment I fell in love with you, like an instant Polaroid picture, slowly coming into frame, pinned to my heart. #MuseMon She needed saving, but her salvation was locked away in a broken heart, filled with hatred and confusion. She was a lost soul. #MuseMon I'm saving my final words for you. The words will reflect my life, a life I couldn't have lived without you. #musemon
 Prancing through the streets, each step in the dirt, the mud, the puddles, and the grime, track to the next. Treasure found in the trash at a seafood restaurant, a sweet confection at a bakery, and sour milk licked up at a fudge shop.
This lifestyle isn’t easy. The weather is extreme. The hurricanes, the lightning, the afternoon downpours, all dampen the day with heavy humidity to wear into the night. Heat intensifies the weight of a coat, missing in patches, yet still sturdy enough to shield against a chilly breeze from a rare cold front. There are few to trust on these streets littered with vagrants. The homeless, the pimps, the dealers, and the tourists seek survival, a trick, a deal, and a thrill. Screams in the night prevent a pleasant rest. Life has no value on the streets. A glance inside windows of a home filled with smiles provides hope. A fresh meal, conversation, a warm bath, and an embrace from a loved one, provide the stories shared with few friends. A litter bound by dreams and experiences, often nine lives is too much to consider when the challenges of each day seem a lifetime. If only a door would open, an opportunity present itself, a spotlight shining to share. Only then would a return to the stage be possible. A cat’s eye view in the darkness is not a trait shared with a broken down, homeless ballerina shadowed in the alleys of a tropical oasis of broken hearts. The dance continues until the day the dream is no longer a flutter in the heart, a sparkle in the eyes, and while feet sing a silent tune of graceful flow. The dance continues until the last curtain call. Three dim lights
Hovering, casting rays, Creating shadows, Like ghosts, Haunting the page, Taunting your thoughts To put quill to parchment, Blots of darkness On a virgin white princess. Be the prince, Rescue her story From the balcony, Sharing it with the kingdom, Peasants and royalty, Anticipating new hope, A glimmer of opportunity, Releasing monarchical rule, Sharing the imagination With the masses, Opening the gate To the people, Illuminating the dawn. |
Robert StanhopeWriter and photographer. Archives
July 2024
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