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Welcome to Day 10 of the April Write 2013; a new era begins

I sit here this morning deciding which prompt to post for today.  Which will stop you for that one brief second and make you stop and think, feel, and stimulate your mind.  None of the ones that I have jumped out of me from the pages or files.  So I have sat here for the last 20 minutes and asked myself what makes me stop and think, what forces the word to run around and play in my head.

Then I remembered what I do each morning on the journey into work, just as the boredom of sitting still on the bus sets in, or whilst at a conference my mind drifts away. I people watch and create lives for the faces in the crowd I see.

As I think this, my mind begins to wander to the old man I saw on the bus yesterday with the 2 big bags, the young boy who looked like he was crying and the pregnant women whose bump didn’t look real.  I recall their stories of their lives of which roam around in my head.  So I have based the topic of the day on this simple idea.  I hope you take pleasure in it too.

 The Topic for Day 10: Faces In The Crowd   

~ Marina 



5 responses »

  1. Donna Parkinson (C) April 2013


    Faces that leap out from the crowd,
    Saying nothing but speaking loud,
    I see so many different Expressions,
    That leave long lasting impressions,
    And others that I just wish to forget,
    It’s like some sort of facial Russian roulette,
    Those that look proud,
    Or those that look like they’re not allowed,
    To smile,
    Some are vile,
    Some are pretty,
    Some are witty,
    And some are plain old hard,
    Weathered and scarred,
    By life,
    These are the faces of a husband; of a wife,
    Of a daughter or a son,
    Some look like their journey aint even begun,
    Whilst others are obviously well on their way,
    But all of these faces have something to say,
    They speak to me in words that I can’t quite hear,
    Fleeting little whispers that quickly disappear,
    As my eye strays to yet more faces,
    I find myself guessing what secrets their exterior encases,
    Questioning and imagining what their lives really hold,
    Thinking about the stories that could be told,
    Then I ponder that some other fool is picking my face from the crowd,
    And I wonder if my features speak quite as loud….

  2. Zita Holbourne (C) April 2013


    He faces her in the crowd
    Shouts at her out loud
    But he doesn’t know her name
    People frown, he feels no shame
    She faces him but does not realise
    That all he can see in his eyes
    Is the beauty of her face

    A face in the crowd
    Such beauty should not be allowed
    He wonders what could be her name
    He shouts out a few, no shame
    He doesn’t realise
    That she doesn’t notice his eyes
    Appraising her face

    He wonders if the crowd
    Has drowned his voice so loud
    He must find out her name
    In love at first sight there’s no shame
    Just wants her to realise
    Look into his eyes
    Not just his face

    He wishes that this crowd
    Would disperse so he be allowed
    To walk across and ask her name
    Declaring his feelings will bring no shame
    Because then she will definitely realise
    That he only has eyes
    For her lovely face

    She hears a voice in the crowd
    It’s crisp and clear and loud
    It calls out name after name
    As if lost, what a shame
    For what he fails to realise
    Is that the reason for her striking eyes
    Is that she has no sight to see him face to face

    But his voice stands out from the crowd
    She wishes she might be allowed
    To know how he looks, his name
    She imagines them together without shame
    And wishes he would realise
    That without the use of her eyes
    He’s just a voice in the crowd

    She stumbles forward in the crowd
    He marches forward, his footsteps loud
    She hears him call out her name
    He rushes towards her feeling no shame

    They come together and realise
    That love is here before their ears and eyes
    And embrace in the centre of the crowd


  3. Alicia Patterson (C) April 2013

    Faces in the crowd

    No I don’t recognize you.
    But am curious what makes you you.
    I am intrigued by all beings I see
    Including you
    Who looks nothing like me.
    I want to know more.
    Walk me through your doors.
    Include me
    In your journey.
    No I don’t recognize you.
    But maybe I should.
    Maybe I could
    Have known you in my past
    Makes you wonder
    Decisions make you plunder.
    But this newness in your eyes
    has my soul booming like thunder
    No I don’t recognize you.
    Doesn’t mean we’re not connected.
    You could be life changing and a breakthrough
    If only I let it.
    But there you go
    Another face disappearing in the crowd.
    That one chance now so quiet,was once so loud.
    Makes you think of all the opportunities we fail to reach out for
    They see us and beg us for more.
    But we’re looking over and under and Behind.
    We should embrace new faces and ideas of all kinds.

  4. Lana Joseph (C) April 2013

    Faces In The Crowd…
    “By LJ”

    Resting memories
    shadowy visions
    quiet days

    seasons past
    seeing you
    your face
    facing me

    holding hands
    embracing time
    abstruse plan

    sunrise whispers
    ingenious queen
    hauntingly still

    plummeted forward

    against odds
    firmly rooted
    standing keen

    She stood out among faces in a crowd

    My Shero

    My advocate

    Copyright © 2013-10-04 LJ
    All Rights Reserved.

  5. Marina Bayley (c) April 2013

    Faces in the crowd
    speaking to me
    all so very loud
    lives spread across a page

    The old man two bags in hand

    holding on as tight as he can

    holding on with all his might

    wondering if the decision is right

    if he has more to gain than lose

    daughter told him to choose

    the dress she wore on their first date

    he remember her face, was 10 minutes late

    the skirt with all that lace,

    the t-shit with that funny face

    the purple apron

    the green house coat

    each piece holds story needing to be told

    soon he a memory quilt will unfold

    to covers his woes

    something for him to really hold

    and when he has gone

    it will be passed on

    so her story will live on

    with a tear in his eye

    oh to be young again to have that kinda fun again

    He looks at the young man and sighs!

    The weight of the world

    on shoudlers so young

    he should be out having fun

    a mournful tear disappears

    and all we can do is wonder why

    he can see it all

    why do your eyes, cover the lies,

    your a King in the making a Man of strength and pride

    you don’t have to be one of them

    and just enjoy the ride

    you are important and blessed

    you have to be who you were meant to be

    don’t be anyone else just for them to see

    Yes Sir I want to be me

    fighting against the harsh reality

    just being young gets harder each day

    and I wish I could just go out and play

    fighting each day to stand free

    keeping true to me

    As he brushes past her bump

    she doesn’t notice

    doesn’t feel, as the lump is so unreal

    she wants to tell him, let him know

    but all would be lost

    all would be gone

    strangers on a bus

    connecting the unconnected

    in less than 5 degrees

    I sit and wonder what these faces

    see when they look at me.


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