About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
![Joy Sweeps [#1514072]
Kiya's gift. I love it!](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
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Everyday Canvas
![My Blog's Graphic [#1126709]
Kathleen-613's creation for my blog](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
"Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself."
CHARLIE CHAPLIN
![Blog City image small [#1971183]
Blog City image small](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
David Whyte
![Blog City Citizen image [#1979138]
Marci's gift sig](http://www.InkSpot.Com/main/trans.gif)
This is my supplementary blog in which I will post entries written for prompts.
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Prompt: creation Saturday as Norb loves to call it over in 30 Day....Write a STORY or POEM that begins with: There was only one way out.
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There was only one way out because the security line snaked and coiled around the airport’s checkpoint. He had to move forward. Going back would attract too much negative attention. He had traveled constantly on business but never had such a problem.
As much a travel ninja as he had been, now emerged another indignity on top of shoes off, belts off, and hands in the air as people entered the space that resembled a phone-booth. The checkpoint guys decided to hassle him even more with a pat-down.
When their hands went in between his legs, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He let go. Suddenly the lights flickered, the sirens beeped and the guy patting him down pulled back his hand in disgust and jumped back from the puddle on the floor.
“Fella, why didn’t you use the bathroom before getting on the line?”
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