Accidental poetry

Today’s prompt: Go someplace where people pause on their way to someplace else. The airport, the coffee shop in the mall, District Court, a fundraiser. Sit and listen to the passing parade. Fragments of conversation, laughter, a shout, the sound of running feet, a splash. Watch everything in motion. Try to figure out who’s posing and who’s just being. Let a story begin to unwind. Reach into the grab-bag of bits and pieces and pull out a handful to use for your own purposes. Go home whistling.

Write, paint, compose, photograph, weave a tale . . . Create.

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5 Responses to Accidental poetry

  1. Karma says:

    Cool idea. Unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be going just about anywhere for the next couple days!

  2. Carsten says:

    Aaargh! You got me. How on earth could you know my secret: I can’t whistle…
    My family used to try teaching me, but they gave up years ago. But that’s another story. -Now told in short.

    I like your image title very much.
    P i n k i f i c a t i o n
    That’s a good word Gerry.

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