PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ THE FACE OF HIDDEN FEELING

This is a belated Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog 25th October 2015

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/10/25/picture-it-write-75

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia.

THE FACE OF HIDDEN FEELING

by John Yeo

I am the one who knows the real me, deep inside I am angry and unhappy.
My eyes are blind, but my soul can see, the futility and prejudice in this unhappy world. My hands have been painted with wide open eyes to give the illusion of sight. When I remove my hands to touch and feel, my eyes will always be unable to see, the pain and sorrow in this unhappy world.
The eyes in my soul will never shed tears, in sympathy or sadness. I have had the artist describe my looks, to reflect a face I will never see, in any mirror that will work for me.

And yet….

I am the one who knows the real me, deep inside I am happy and carefree.
My eyes are blind but my soul can see, the hope for the future of this wonderful world. My hands have been painted to create a disguise and present an illusion of sight. When my hands are removed the painted eyes will never reflect a smile, to mirror the happiness and hope I feel, in this magical mysterious world. The eyes in my soul will forever light up with the joy and happiness I feel. I have had the artist describe my looks, to reflect a face I will never see, in any mirror that will work for me.

Which of my faces is hiding from you, behind my painted hands.

That, I will never, ever, allow you to see!

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ A HARSH REALITY

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/10/11/picture-it-write-74/

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia.

PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ A HARSH REALITY

by John Yeo

     The very wealthy man had a vision, he approached the local authorities with a large sum of money, to be used for the good of the local people who still lived in the town where he grew up as a lad.

     The plan was for a green space, with flowerbeds, pretty shrubs, and trees where wild birds were able to perch and nest. Many benches were to be strategically set up, to allow elderly folk or mothers to rest while their children were at play. Waterfowl were to be encouraged to swim on the stream, flowing through this oasis of rest and tranquility and a yearly annuity would be set aside for the upkeep and maintenance of his dream.

    His plan was welcomed with open arms by the grateful folk, who served on the town council, and an agreement was quickly reached. The Mayor named the park after this very generous benefactor, and a statue of him was erected in a small enclosed garden in the centre of this beautiful green, open space, in memorium of his generosity.

     Ten years later there was an extraordinarily brutal killing in the town, and the news media were congregating at an overgrown, neglected, little-used open space set in the middle of an urban conurbation. A young lady was standing alone with tears streaming down her cheeks, amid the littered open area, in the centre of this rundown little park. Empty beer cans and plastic bags were everywhere under the rusted broken seats and carelessly tossed into a stream that was flowing through. A moss-covered, chipped and broken, unrecognisable statue had been overturned and upended into the water.

           “Why are you crying Miss?” Asked a hard-bitten seen-it-all news reporter.

      “I cry for the love of my Grandfather who had a dream that is now shattered and smashed by unthinking unashamed vandals. I cry for the visible drop in the standards of living, that allows the memory of a very caring man to be ground into the dirt and detritus of drink-sodden ne’er-do wells. Above all I cry for justice to be meted out to the killers of my beloved sister who was abused and murdered here in the very place where his dream came to fruition. God may have mercy on their vicious souls! “

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ THE PAINTED SMILE

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/10/04/picture-it-write-73/

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

THE PAINTED SMILE

by John Yeo

   Everyone else was laughing, except for me, I was embarrassed for her and felt her pain. Children can be cruel to one another sometimes, especially when someone looks slightly different to the norm. Mandy was born with a birth defect to her mouth in the shape of a permanent smile, the other children called her names and she was continually bullied.

  I became her friend, we went everywhere together.
I arranged to meet her after our classes that day. She came into view wearing green and pink wellington boots, the rain hadn’t stopped for two whole weeks and muddy puddles were everywhere.

      ‘Hi Mandy! Would you like to come for a coffee? I am having trouble with the homework project and I want your help.’

   There was no response and Mandy avoided eye-contact, I looked at her closely and I could see tears in her eyes. I had been taken in at first by the painted smile that hid poor Mandy’s tears. She stamped her foot into a large muddy rainwater puddle and sobbed.
      ‘Why won’t they leave me alone, I hate it when they laugh at my face, I wish I was normal.’

     ‘Oh Mandy, I am so sorry you are feeling down, I think you are pretty, that smile is infectious, you always cheer me up whenever I see you.’

  Mandy stamped very hard into another puddle making a large splash.
‘I want to look normal and angry when people tease me so I can stop them from hurting me.’ Mandy said, kicking the water again with her boots splashing water everywhere.

   I then had an idea, what if we covered her mouth with very heavy makeup that would hide her false smile and see how she got on in class with a natural scowl.

     ‘Mandy I have an idea, let’s go and visit my Grandma who was a makeup artist, I am sure we will get some help from her.’

      ‘Oh thank you!’ Mandy said with a smile that I am sure was a real smile this time.

    My Gran worked wonders and hid the permanent smile with some special makeup. Mandy was delighted with the result and wearing her new scowl she went back to school.  

   A different Mandy emerged, more confident, she began to single out the abusive bullies but instead of seeking revenge she befriended the girls and became very popular.

  Then she asked my Gran to remove the makeup.

      When the rain came down again Mandy was dancing through the puddles in her green and pink wellies, singing in the rain with her natural smile on her face again.

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ RAGS AND MR. POTTS

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/09/20/picture-it-write-71/

Ermilia dog-with-stick-having-trouble-getting-up-stairs

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

RAGS AND MR. POTTS

by John Yeo

   At last we own our own property, we are so proud it belongs to us, lock, stock and barrel. There is a lot of work to be done it is very rundown and we have boxes and stacked everywhere on the bare wooden floorboards.
  Our pet mongrel dog Rags, has settled in, always barking at the slightest noise or a strange passing dog.
Cindy and I are energised and we are decorating the house from top to bottom.

Cindy has an organising mind and this morning she said.
      “We will sleep in the downstairs front room until we finish the bedrooms off”

   “That’s OK by me!” I reply. “Hey! Look at that dog, what is he doing with that old stick someone has wedged across the stairs? He is trying to get that out from there!”

     “Oh, Rags, come here you silly boy!” Cindy shouts.

    “Oh leave him, at least it is the outside stairs.”

   Mrs Brown our nearest neighbour pops in for a chat and a cup of tea, bringing a hamper of groceries,
     “Just to tide you over dears, until you can get to the local store.”

    “Thanks so much!” I respond, “Can I pay you for them?”

     “No don’t be do silly! I would like you to take them as a good neighbourly gift.”

  Mrs Brown sits on a packing-case drinking a cup of Cindy’s special brew tea.

     “Did you hear the story of old Mr Potts, who last lived here, he was a very eccentric tyrant of a man. He would always be chasing the local kids away if they wandered off the path out front, on to his drive. He would charge out of the house waving a big stick to scare them away, every time anyone passed by.”

    “No!” We chorused.

  Mrs Brown took another sip of tea. “Well he was a bit of a hermit, living alone and not mixing with anyone socially. Rumour has it that he would drink vast quantities of home-brewed cider and get very drunk. One day he tripped over a stick on your back stairs, very drunk and not looking where he was going. He lay at the bottom of those stairs for a whole week before he was discovered, sadly he died on the way to the hospital.”

  Cindy refilled Mrs Browns teacup, as we sat listening to this tragic tale.

     “Well!” She continued. “Rumour has it that someone deliberately lodged that stick there to trip him up, but there was never any proof and nobody is owning up to anything.”

  At this point there was a loud barking from around the back as Rags, tired of trying to dislodge that pesky stick, just sat there barking at nothing, there was no one to be seen.

  When Mrs Brown saw this and noticed the stick lodged across the back stairs she nearly fainted with the shock. Cindy gave her a glass of water and produced some smelling salts. When Mrs Brown came around she was alarmed.

     “Surely that is not the same stick that was responsible for the death of Mr Potts! How did that get there?” She cried.

    “Oh! That stick has been there since we moved in!” I said, “Rags has been going potty trying to get it out, we thought he was just having a game, but after hearing your story now! I wonder?”

  We both finish the day working non-stop, flat out to get as much done as possible before it gets too dark.

  As we settle down to sleep Cindy whispers. “Good Night darling, I hope our little house is not haunted by the ghost of Mr Potts!”

  “Good night Cindy! Don’t worry, Rags will see him off!”

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ MIRROR DISTORTED DEFLECTION

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/09/13/picture-it-write-70/

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Original image by Michelle Monique.

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

MIRROR DISTORTED DEFLECTION

by John Yeo

My friends and family in fact everybody I come into contact with, all tell me how wonderful I am looking. My boyfriend is so very proud of me, he does everything in his power to encourage me to go out with him as he would like to introduce me to his friends and family.
I always make an excuse not to go anywhere. How can I be seen in public looking like this? Why do people tell lies all the time and compliment me on my looks? I know how ugly I am, I can see myself in the mirror.
When I try to tell my parents why I am not a sociable person, they laugh and tell me not to be shy, then they tell me how beautiful I am.
Can’t people see these horrible black marks all over my face and hands? They look like tattoos! I have never been near a tattoo shop in my life.
My friend Cynthia is always telling me not to be so silly, she says I am lovely and slim and beautiful. I know she is lying though, as she is always going on about how fat she looks in the mirror, yet she is slimmer than I am. My Mum says she is an anorexic and she can’t help it.
I have to pretend to be ill all the time so that I can stay indoors, my Dad thinks I am a hypochondriac. When I asked the doctor if I could have plastic surgery, he laughed and asked me what for? When I told him, he wasn’t laughing anymore, he thinks I need to see a specialist Psychological doctor.
My Dad got angry and said that’s a waste of time and money as there is nothing wrong with me.
I don’t look in the mirror anymore!

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ AN ARDUOS JOURNEY

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/08/29/picture-it-write-69/

Ermilia's Desert
Original image found here: http://www.thedesignwork.com/weird-pictures As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

AN ARDUOS JOURNEY

by John Yeo

The travellers were weary on the trail through a parched, dry, arid, waterless wasteland. The sand stretched out for miles in every direction. Then the wind whipped up sandstorms that penetrated every orifice in their outer clothing into the very pores of the skin beneath.
Fresh water is the most valuable substance here and every drop is conserved and squeezed out to the best effect, to enable the survival of the travellers.
Sadly the pack animals are the first to suffer and drop, refusing to go on, simply giving up the struggle to continue. Our only course of action is to grant them a merciful release from the torture of death by a slow painful thirst that eventually turns everything to dust.
The jeep and the all terrain vehicles struggle to keep a grip on the sandy desert floor as the exploration search party continues on their perilous quest.

“The tree of life is our goal, we will know it when the rain time arrives!” Blind old Pete said offhandedly.
Blind old Pete was actually a twenty-four year old medical scientist who was colour blind.
“When the what? arrives!” Marg exclaimed derisively. “I don’t think this place has ever been rained on ever.”
They both laughed, almost conspiratorially, they had been very good friends for years.
Donald Prestwick, a leading medicinal botanist, laughed loudly at this exchange. “We are searching for a particular tree that survives for long periods without water. We need to harvest some of the dark grey bark, which is reputed to have unique anti-ageing properties that could be the key to longevity in humanity allowing some people to triple their lifespans.”
Blind old Pete grinned at Marg and pointed to yet another vicious-looking whirlwind on the horizon. “We’d better take cover! ” He shouted.
After the storm had abated and passed on, the travellers had to dig the vehicles out before continuing their journey.
Suddenly there were dead-looking trees all around the vehicles. Marg had never seen such a bleak prospect in all her days.
“Surely these trees are dead, not the wonder-bark that is going to make us all very wealthy!” She exclaimed
The Don, as Donald Prestwick had affectionately been re-named, behind his back, almost jumped for joy.
“Yes! Please take as many samples as possible, we need a good supply to work with when we get back to the lab.”

Then the arduous return journey was soon underway, many times there were holdups due to vehicle problems and eventually our versatile trusty mechanic Willie, almost gave up as the jeep died, but miraculously was nursed back to life again.
We almost missed our main watering oasis on the way back due to a faulty compass reading. However after some more sparkling adventures in the desert, our only thought was to get back home.
Some weeks later we were all back in our super sterile lab, measuring and testing the precious samples.
Marg thought inwardly, “It will be many more years before any of the expected wealth arrives! The memories are preserved and my long, probably tripled, average life expectancy will be enhanced by the addition of the royalties to come.

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Ermilia's Desert

Original image found here: http://www.thedesignwork.com/weird-pictures As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ THE NIGHTMARE

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/08/16/picture-it-write-68/

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

THE NIGHTMARE

by John Yeo

“It doesn’t hurt much Doc. Really, I don’t know why I am troubling you, I get a little twinge every now and then, especially at night when I am lying in bed.” I said, making light of the whole thing, I just wanted something to ease the pain and I would be on my way again.
“Hmm! I think I had better take a look, it is odd that the symptoms you describe are happening at night when there is no weight on your legs.” The doctor replied. “Go behind the screen and take off your trousers.”
When the Doctor saw my green legs with the cactus spines clearly visible he gasped.
“How long have you been like this? When did it start? How did it all begin? I need you to be truthful to enable me to make a diagnosis.”
“Well Doctor, I have just returned from a trip to the jungles of Borneo where we encountered an unknown Indian tribe. We were introduced to the chieftain and were offered liquid refreshment by his wife. Most of our fellow travellers politely refused and drank water from their water bottles, except for Jones, my closest friend and myself. The proffered drink was a golden flecked green liquid that was very sweet made from a rare cactus plant. We were so taken with the refreshing effects of this mild looking drink that we both consumed several more.”
“How and where is Jones!” Exclaimed the doctor.
“Ah! Jones died after being bitten by a very poisonous snake that coiled around his neck searching for an entrance to his bodily fluids.” I replied.
“I suffered no visible ill effects until I got back to England. A week later I was invited to afternoon tea with Lord and Lady Gommersole. Then the trouble started I was offered tea in a beautiful bone china teacup with the Gommersole crest finely displayed, as I raised the cup to my lips, to my horror it seemed to have grown vicious poisonous looking spines. I threw the cup to the floor and it was destroyed. I was ejected from the tea party and from that moment every cup I try to drink from seems covered in spines.”
“Hmm, when did the legs begin to swell and grow these lethal looking spines?” Enquired the doctor patiently.
“The night before last, I suddenly found myself writhing in pain in bed”
“I have to say I have never encountered a malady such as this in my entire forty year long career as a Doctor. My first thought is immediate amputation of both legs to counter the night time painful effects and a period in a secure psychiatric institution to explore the nasty hallucinations. Just sign these appropriate forms granting permission for your operation and I will make the necessary hospitalisation arrangements.”

“Nurse, send in the next patient please! “

 

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Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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Picture it and Write ~ THE CREATOR

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/08/09/picture-it-write-67/

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

THE CREATOR

There is always the incredible mystery.
That departed into the dust and debris
That preceded the time before history
Wiped out by the mysterious entity.

~

Was the Creator out of his mind?
Fashioning fantasy from elements
Was he naturally pre-eternally blind?
In his quest to extract a seventh sense.

~

A spiralling galaxy of ideas turned to dust,
Shining rejected entities with nerve
That expired, leaving traces of lust,
For turning, twisting, spiralling ideas.

~

Each pinpoint a shining expired life,
Swirling, sweeping, a galactic funnel
Of exploration with wild frustration
Dancing, gleaming stars burning out.

~

The sheer volume of discarded matter
Shining beautifully at the rim of the inferno
A sucking, hungry, elemental monster,
A richly attired fearsome black hole.

~

A tiny microbe on a tiny blue planet,
One of the millions thickly spreading
Looked in awe at the devastation.
Smiling sadly at the burning question,

~

Is the Creator mad?

~

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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Picture it and Write ~ IDENTICAL OPPOSITES

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/08/02/picture-it-write-66/

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

IDENTICAL OPPOSITES

by John Yeo

  They were identical twins, Danny and Danielle. They entered this world within minutes of each other. Danny had a wonderful smile that charmed everyone he looked at, melting the stoniest heart instantly.
Danielle entered the world like a tornado, kicking and screaming as if she didn’t belong, her face would always reflect that early struggle.
 The twins were each other’s closest friends and grew up together sharing everything.
Danny was always the favourite with the outside world, his winsome smile would smooth his way. He strolled through college, a very popular man guaranteed a brilliant future as a research scientist.
 Danielle was a rebel who did not fit in anywhere, always in trouble with the authorities she dropped out of college and lived alone on benefits. She didn’t have a friend in the world apart from her twin brother Danny who stood by her through thick and thin. People actually swore they were the opposite sides of a single mind.
 Danny was on the verge of a huge breakthrough in Molecular Biology, working very long hours, seven days a week.
Danielle was drifting in and out of the harsh reality of a world that never stopped kicking her while she was down.
One day Danny received a shocking call. Danielle was in hospital on the point of death after she was hit by a car, driven by a hit and run driver.
 Danny’s colleagues insisted he go to her bedside although they were puzzled about his indifferent attitude. It was almost as if he knew Danielle was dying and he was in the grip of a terrible form of shock.
As he approached her bedside both their faces lit up with smiles almost as if Death was a laughing matter that was just another hurdle.
Danielle and Danny just sat holding each other’s hands looking into each other’s eyes. Who could begin to understand the silent waves of thought communication that passed between the brother and sister during those precious moments. Then…
  “Are you ready? ” Danny smilingly asked.
   “Yes!” Was the terse answer from Danielle.
Danielle then passed away.
 Danny walked away with drooping shoulders and the knowledge that he was now complete. He carried his sister within and she cast a long silent shadow of past hurt now ended.

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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Picture it and Write ~ ESCAPING THE NET

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/07/19/picture-it-write-65/

Ermilia ~fish-face-illusion

Original image found at The Design Work.

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

ESCAPING THE NET

by John Yeo

“There is something fishy afoot, or should that be a-fin,” exclaimed Inspector Haddock. “I have heard that fish have been disappearing by the million.”
“Cods wallop,” replied his scaly scavenging partner Scallop, “I believe the shoals have swum off to the watery wastes of the Western Med. escaping into the shiny brine, illuminated by a watery sun.”
“There are stories of mass kidnapping, with unwary shoals getting scooped up by the billion.” Chorused a group of herring, “Our families have been devastated and we have searched high and low for an answer!”
“I believe we have a suspect, and I have a mug shot here. A very dangerous looking fishy character indeed! Take a look here!” Intoned Haddock to the assembled tiddlers.
“Phew!” A new voice gurgled. From the gills of a flatfish, one of many at the meeting. “What an ugly looking shark!”
“Is he all there?” Questioned a flounder on the sidelines of the meeting. “Looks to me like a fishy character with a dual personality.”
“Ah, Yes.” replied the Inspector. “You can always tell a criminal, no meat on his bones, and the expression of distaste in the fishy looking eyes.”
“I believe this is an image of a dual fish-brained entity from the watery wastes of an alien sea. Look at the odd-shaped metallic eyebrows, obviously an unusual type of flying fish.”
The meeting was abruptly brought to an end as a huge net drifted into the vicinity scooping up many varieties of fish.
The Inspector and Scallop rapidly fled as tiny undigested fish bones rained from above.

Ermilia ~fish-face-illusion

Original image found at The Design Work.

Copyright (c) ~ Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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