Wednesday November 30th, 2011

The exercise:

The third movie in the Oliver film club series - Life, Above All - was shown tonight. Still stunned. Can't really say much more than that at the moment.

Your prompt: courage.


Her courage is quiet,
Her greatest challenge:
To just keep going.

One foot in front of the other,
Spine unbending,
Despite the unimaginable burden
And the road unending.

You can see it in her eyes,
That determination;
She will reach it one way or another,
Her destination.


Anonymous said...

marc, i like yours.


To strive for what
you want;
against all doubt;
persist and try new methods,
despite pain,
despite sadness
or disappointment,
despite injury
or bad luck;
to know when
to continue,
or when to quit...
it all takes courage
and an ounce of wit.

Cathryn Leigh said...

I actually have two things to post for your prompt. The first is a short poem and the second, a short piece sent in my world of Vervell revolving around one of the youngest characters from my Phoenixes of Vervell Trilogy.

The Nature of Courage
The nature of courage is hard to say,
It often varies day to day
And also from one person to another
Differing between sister and brother

Ryan’s Calling
Ryan looked to the Willow tree outside his mother’s house. He was eight now and should be heading off to find a trade to sustain him for the rest of his life. But the Willow tree was calling him. He still remembered the last time he’d been called. It was three winters ago now, but he still shivered, thinking of the sights he saw. It was worse now that he knew more and understood more.
“Ryan,” his mother’s voice brought him back to reality. “Are you going to daydream the day away or are you going to get to work.”
“I’ll work mother,” he replied as he left.
He left the Scout housing and turned towards the Temple rather than the town. His older brothers were likely there, but he had a need to talk with Fayther Joseph. In reality the person he really wanted to talk to was Sarah. She’d been there, seen what he’d seen, and she didn’t look at him oddly when he said the Gods told him to. Phoenix too was kind and understanding.
Ryan stopped in his tracks, tears springing to his eyes. He knew now what the Gods wanted. Running back to his mother he flung himself into her arms.
“Ryan, good Gods what’s the matter child?” She stroked his hair. “Come now, you know it takes time to find what you’re good at.”
“But I know what I’m good at,” Ryan sobbed, “And I know what the Gods want me to do.”
“Well then go do it,” she told him. “No reason to cry like you’re distraught.”
Pulling back Ryan wiped his tears on his sleeve. “But it means leaving you and father and my brothers.” She looked puzzled, so Ryan pulled himself together as best as possible.
“Mother,” he stated with all the seriousness he could muster, “the Gods have called me to become their Nigiri Assassin, so I must leave, tonight, to begin my training.”
She placed a hand to his forehead. “Are you sure you are feeling well?”
Ryan stomped his foot. “I’m serious mother. I feel them calling like they did three years ago. I’m going to answer the call, just like I did then.”
For a moment the two stared at each other.
“Well,” his mother turned away, “fetch me more wood and then tell all the others to be home for supper. Good thing your father’s home. He’d hate to miss sending you off...”
As her voice trailed off Ryan knew she was fighting tears. Tackle hugging her from the back he gave what comfort he could before rushing out to do as she had bid.

Greg said...

It's been a long life this year, I swear it has. I need a holiday or something :)
I'm still really impressed by the standard of all the comments you get on this blog, Marc; everyone makes such as effort and produces such fantastic writing!
Sorry I've not got anything more specific to say tonight :(

"Green got drunk last night," said the Red Lightbulb, leaning in over the bacon and poached eggs.
"Mmmmphm." Dr. Septopus wasn't held back by manners, but actually couldn't talk with his beak full.
"So drunk, in fact, that he went back with Sylvestra."
There was a odd coughing noise and the food in Dr. Septopus's beak shot across the dining room and thwacked a waiter in the back of his knee. He hissed in pain and fell over.
"That takes courage!" Dr. Septopus's eyes were wide with either shock or awe.
"Well," said Red quietly, "somewhere around midnight they were both screaming and running in opposite directions."
"I wonder if we'll ever find out what happened?" said Dr. Septopus.

Brittany said...

Your Courage

I always
the time you
held me while
I cried.

You didn't check your watch
or shuffle from side to
side. You didn't hesitate
nor did you say a word.
You listened.

You stayed for hours,
with all your courage.
You stroked my hair as tears
soaked your green sweater,
and finally, through
wet sobs, I told you
that my mama died.

Marc said...

Writebite - thanks :)

I think your poem captured the essence of courage very nicely.

Elor - enjoyed your poem, and your prose was excellent. Is this something that happens in the story proper, or just some creative fun?

Greg - so take a holiday! Do it. Dooooo it.

Yes, I wonder if we will indeed. Tease.

Brittany - beautiful, truly lovely.

Anonymous said...

You tilt feeling a cold shiver run down your spine. You have been working your entire life for this and you back out. But wait. Have you actually backed out. You needed to get up there show the crowd what your made of. You can't a celebrity and have millions of fans waiting right outside that door, waiting for you to do something and then back down. No, you need to build up the courage and do your best get out on stage. Make your fans go wild

Marc said...

Papple - I wonder how many rock stars out there feel exactly that way before they go on stage? I suspect more than many of us would expect.

Nicely captured.