i bow to elders and to my country who have provided me with life and sense. i hate bows as guys look gay in them. i would love to own a bow cos then i could shoot some arrows.
the most i ever bowed in my entire life was when i took japanese lessons. we bowed as we entered. then again when the teacher entered. and again when we broke for tea. and one more time when we came back from tea and finally the last bow was when we left the class. all during a 2-hour session.
with a bow tucked neatly in her hair by her mother that just slighty popped through those tightly wound curles she skipped through the park. who knew where she was headed? not her… or anyone. she didnt care. she had no care in the world and ever intended to. for what i would do to get those days backk…
The little girls ran down the steps launched themselves around the side of the iron railings and set off down the street hair flying little shoes gleaming pink frocks tied at the back with the biggest bows they could persuade the nurse to apply – freedom — but not as anyone else would know it remarked the cabby as he clicked on the horses
It’s time to blow out now my dear, you’ve had your fun, so leave it and let go. You’re all washed up, and no one cares now. So please, please go out with dignity so you don’t have to face tomorrow with a stained blouse.
glides effortlessly, warm rosin rises from the quivering sound. And yet we forget how powerful a bow is, because people focus on the big loud body of the violin.
bow wow dats the sound a dog make..i love dogs they r friendly and loyal..thers also a rapper named bow wow i gues
bt i dn like him much
another thot that comes up in bowing down infrnt of a king or God
srk says guys shud bow b4 God and only 1 women in dis wrld
sounds nice doesnt it
“Take a bow, Ava,” Shiloh said to me, after Tucker had gone. “You finally got what you wanted. You knew I liked Tucker.” But I didn’t know. How could I have known when she hadn’t told me? She said I should have been able to see it in her face and hear it in her voice. But we never talked about him. Not once. I hate that it was over a boy.
She re-tied her bow. Again the tails were uneven. She tried again.
Every attempt she wanted to just leave but couldn’t bring herself to, she just had to try again.
once upon a time there was a magical world. in that magical world was a good wizard and a bad wizard. the bad wizard made everyone bow down to him,. especially when the good wizard dueled the bad wizard. THE BOY WHO LIVED!!!
I will never bow to the act of false worship, to engage in activity geared at providing worship that is not from the heart to me is dishonest and should be avoided at all cost.
bows are beautiful I think of secret tension in the bend of bow.. I think of dormant power.. I think of the curve of bow and its compliment in the wicked straightness of the arrow..I hear the arrow go whizzzzzz…
I bow to you, but I don’t bow to myself. That’s physically impossible, I mean come on? Then again, is this an underlying symbol of the respect we pay others but not ourselves? Or is it a mark of respect knowing yourself so intimately and being comfortable enough that you don’t have to bow?
Course, it could have meant bow, as in violin bow. I need to re-rosin mine sometime soon.
Or a ribbon bow…
She focused on her reflection once again, muttering irritably. “If I could just get this…almost…ugh! This stupid bow in position…” She bit her lip in concentration, toying with the ribbon in her hair. A hazel-eyed girl stood to the side, raising an eyebrow in amusement at the other girl’s antics.
I dont bow to anybody except I hv done anything wrong with him or her. Since you are my best friend I can confess to you that once I have bowed to someone who later became my life partner.
He took a deep bow and kissed the top of her hand, “Good-bye my lady” he said. Standing up he looked her in the eye, her face so gorgeous, her soul so…evil. He drew back, took a deep breath and spit. It landed square on her face.
using a bow to kill the thoughts which are almost guaranteed to ruin the things you care about, but so you don’t have to touch them directly. those thoughts are toxic, you know it. and bows have always symbolised freedom – look at robin hood!??? exactly – freedom from thoughts like those evil ones you killed. with your bow. of awesomeness.
bows are a very pretty accessory…. for baby girls and dogs… oh and lady gaga!!! haha!
bow and arrows sometimes a scary thing they freak me out anyways i dont really understand why people need them or guns… waste of time… bows are nice on dresses too.. actually i kind of like bows. they are quite pretty.
I bow. Before mne is a great being. Is it God? There is no such thing. I continue to bow. My knees are shaking upon the rough soil. He lifts my chin but I do not falter. Is it my end? What does this signify? I continue to bow.
She came to the end of the line, a riff that no trumpeter dare stretch to reach. She was deserving, the ego and the soul merging to receive the earned applause. Her talent bowed in humility for the work she knew lay ahead in order to improve on this momentous song.
Please do take a bow! Your presence in the world has made a difference on this day. You were kind to someone, who was then kind to someone else. You were polite in a difficult situation … you allowed others to see how to handle like situations.
it is a bright morning and I am at my restaurant job and I am happy in these simple tasks today. I like to welcome people and make their on the fly lunch fun and cheerful. I love to race around and use my body, I loved riding my bike here, the sun bright on the roads wet from last nights rain, this work makes me free, I can pay for my little room in West Kensington, I can go to any art exhibition I like, I can go to the lecture at the Theosophical Society and chain my bike to the area railings on Gloucester Place, I can have a big mug of excellent green tea in Starbucks, I can have days off during the week and visit the V an A and Fulham Palace herb garden. I dance as I chat with my lovely co-workers, dread-locked Sharon , saving for the festival season, dutch Marietta who says they don’t eat fried tulips ( I didn’t really think they did), we are bopping to a Boy George CD and he sings ‘Bow Down Mister, Hare Rama, Hare Krishna’ and that’s the spell that took me back here, fifteen years ago. Here’s to another blessed day, utterly different in form but filled with the same light. Hare Krishna.
The bow in her hair was magnificent, but the look in her eye was malicious. She stabbed him nine times. The pink satin was now stained with scarlet splatters.
The performance was finally over. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he caught his breath, waiting in the wings for the curtain call. It had been tough getting this far, completing his goal. However it was finally time for him to step aside, let someone else take the reins. He stepped out onto the stage as they called his name, looked into those bright lights one final time before closing his eyes and taking his final bow.
It didn’t work the way he thought it did. He was no one to make me bow.
And when his booming voice commanded me to I held my back straight. He was no one. Only a man with a crown who was mistaken that he had the power to make me beg for mercy in his feet.
They both bowed as the circled each other, eyes momentarily travelling to the ground, the lifting once more the make a piercing eyes contact. So this was it. The moment of truth. It all started with a simple bow.
A cold piercing voice in my ear commanded me to bow. I used all my power to disobey his wish but it didn’t seem to work. Who was this man that could force the enforcer?
I adjusted my bow then stared at my reflection.
“It’s going to be okay” I thought with a sigh, “You can do this, no one will judge you”,
But what if that wasn’t true? What if I stuff up? What if everyone laughs, or no one claps or everyone starts thinking I’m a loser? It wasn’t like me to do something like this and now I remember why.
He glanced up at the “King” in front of him, peering over his throne as if he were mere dirt on the floor.
“Well?” The King said. The other man was shoved forward with a painful force. He stood up slowly and pushed the guards away.
“I will not bow.” He said firmly. “You are not my king. And you never will be.”
She smiled and tugged softly on the little bow she had sewn onto her wrist years before. “It’s useless now,” she murmured. The promise had been broken, and the little bow was but a gentle reminder of times past.
She carefully tied the ribbon around her head, turning the bow so it would be hidden behind her hair. Most people would assume this to be a simple accessory, a simple headband, but to her it was more than this. She didn’t tie her ribbons on her fingers, no that would be too obvious; instead she took her reminders and put them in her hair.
Take a bow, the night is over, this masquerade is getting older.
Lights are low, the curtains down
There’s no-one here (there’s no-one here…)
Say your lines but do you mean them
Do you mean what you say
When there’s no-one around
Watching you ..
One lonely star
…you don’t know who you are
(remembering bits and pieces of lyrics once memorised!)
a little boy ran into the dining hall. he wore a clean white shirt with a small black bow. he searched for his mother through the crowd of long gowns and penguin suits
i bow to elders and to my country who have provided me with life and sense. i hate bows as guys look gay in them. i would love to own a bow cos then i could shoot some arrows.
That dog didn’t
bow wow wow
cutely like Benji or
Bingo in the window.
He agressively lunged –
sank his teeth in deep
and left blood
on my son’s
small leg.
Here’s hoping your
kids don’t get bit.
Trying to apologize. You’re so ugly when you cry. Please just cut it out. Don’t tell me that you’re sorry cause you’re not.
This word doesn’t mean much in the way of spirituality. I have little interest in words like these. I’m messed up that way I guess.
the most i ever bowed in my entire life was when i took japanese lessons. we bowed as we entered. then again when the teacher entered. and again when we broke for tea. and one more time when we came back from tea and finally the last bow was when we left the class. all during a 2-hour session.
with a bow tucked neatly in her hair by her mother that just slighty popped through those tightly wound curles she skipped through the park. who knew where she was headed? not her… or anyone. she didnt care. she had no care in the world and ever intended to. for what i would do to get those days backk…
The little girls ran down the steps launched themselves around the side of the iron railings and set off down the street hair flying little shoes gleaming pink frocks tied at the back with the biggest bows they could persuade the nurse to apply – freedom — but not as anyone else would know it remarked the cabby as he clicked on the horses
humble
respect
humility
weak
tradition
honor
king
queen
emperor
dominant
masculine
strength
power
kingdom
prayer
It’s time to blow out now my dear, you’ve had your fun, so leave it and let go. You’re all washed up, and no one cares now. So please, please go out with dignity so you don’t have to face tomorrow with a stained blouse.
glides effortlessly, warm rosin rises from the quivering sound. And yet we forget how powerful a bow is, because people focus on the big loud body of the violin.
bow wow dats the sound a dog make..i love dogs they r friendly and loyal..thers also a rapper named bow wow i gues
bt i dn like him much
another thot that comes up in bowing down infrnt of a king or God
srk says guys shud bow b4 God and only 1 women in dis wrld
sounds nice doesnt it
“Take a bow, Ava,” Shiloh said to me, after Tucker had gone. “You finally got what you wanted. You knew I liked Tucker.” But I didn’t know. How could I have known when she hadn’t told me? She said I should have been able to see it in her face and hear it in her voice. But we never talked about him. Not once. I hate that it was over a boy.
She re-tied her bow. Again the tails were uneven. She tried again.
Every attempt she wanted to just leave but couldn’t bring herself to, she just had to try again.
the arrow the bow if only
once upon a time there was a magical world. in that magical world was a good wizard and a bad wizard. the bad wizard made everyone bow down to him,. especially when the good wizard dueled the bad wizard. THE BOY WHO LIVED!!!
I will never bow to the act of false worship, to engage in activity geared at providing worship that is not from the heart to me is dishonest and should be avoided at all cost.
bows are beautiful I think of secret tension in the bend of bow.. I think of dormant power.. I think of the curve of bow and its compliment in the wicked straightness of the arrow..I hear the arrow go whizzzzzz…
I bow to you, but I don’t bow to myself. That’s physically impossible, I mean come on? Then again, is this an underlying symbol of the respect we pay others but not ourselves? Or is it a mark of respect knowing yourself so intimately and being comfortable enough that you don’t have to bow?
Course, it could have meant bow, as in violin bow. I need to re-rosin mine sometime soon.
Or a ribbon bow…
She focused on her reflection once again, muttering irritably. “If I could just get this…almost…ugh! This stupid bow in position…” She bit her lip in concentration, toying with the ribbon in her hair. A hazel-eyed girl stood to the side, raising an eyebrow in amusement at the other girl’s antics.
I dont bow to anybody except I hv done anything wrong with him or her. Since you are my best friend I can confess to you that once I have bowed to someone who later became my life partner.
Trace around the tempered wood
tongue your thumb and slip along
the arc, the bend, tip
Your hand twangs the string
it rings and quivers, settles
in a silent longtitude of wait
Brace and draw, pull and brace
The point and feather, balanced
at the ends of a stripped beam
And as a stare, the peal of potential
sings out, stings through wind
and splices the seed of an apple
He took a deep bow and kissed the top of her hand, “Good-bye my lady” he said. Standing up he looked her in the eye, her face so gorgeous, her soul so…evil. He drew back, took a deep breath and spit. It landed square on her face.
using a bow to kill the thoughts which are almost guaranteed to ruin the things you care about, but so you don’t have to touch them directly. those thoughts are toxic, you know it. and bows have always symbolised freedom – look at robin hood!??? exactly – freedom from thoughts like those evil ones you killed. with your bow. of awesomeness.
bows are a very pretty accessory…. for baby girls and dogs… oh and lady gaga!!! haha!
bow and arrows sometimes a scary thing they freak me out anyways i dont really understand why people need them or guns… waste of time… bows are nice on dresses too.. actually i kind of like bows. they are quite pretty.
I bow. Before mne is a great being. Is it God? There is no such thing. I continue to bow. My knees are shaking upon the rough soil. He lifts my chin but I do not falter. Is it my end? What does this signify? I continue to bow.
She came to the end of the line, a riff that no trumpeter dare stretch to reach. She was deserving, the ego and the soul merging to receive the earned applause. Her talent bowed in humility for the work she knew lay ahead in order to improve on this momentous song.
Please do take a bow! Your presence in the world has made a difference on this day. You were kind to someone, who was then kind to someone else. You were polite in a difficult situation … you allowed others to see how to handle like situations.
it is a bright morning and I am at my restaurant job and I am happy in these simple tasks today. I like to welcome people and make their on the fly lunch fun and cheerful. I love to race around and use my body, I loved riding my bike here, the sun bright on the roads wet from last nights rain, this work makes me free, I can pay for my little room in West Kensington, I can go to any art exhibition I like, I can go to the lecture at the Theosophical Society and chain my bike to the area railings on Gloucester Place, I can have a big mug of excellent green tea in Starbucks, I can have days off during the week and visit the V an A and Fulham Palace herb garden. I dance as I chat with my lovely co-workers, dread-locked Sharon , saving for the festival season, dutch Marietta who says they don’t eat fried tulips ( I didn’t really think they did), we are bopping to a Boy George CD and he sings ‘Bow Down Mister, Hare Rama, Hare Krishna’ and that’s the spell that took me back here, fifteen years ago. Here’s to another blessed day, utterly different in form but filled with the same light. Hare Krishna.
The bow in her hair was magnificent, but the look in her eye was malicious. She stabbed him nine times. The pink satin was now stained with scarlet splatters.
The performance was finally over. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he caught his breath, waiting in the wings for the curtain call. It had been tough getting this far, completing his goal. However it was finally time for him to step aside, let someone else take the reins. He stepped out onto the stage as they called his name, looked into those bright lights one final time before closing his eyes and taking his final bow.
It didn’t work the way he thought it did. He was no one to make me bow.
And when his booming voice commanded me to I held my back straight. He was no one. Only a man with a crown who was mistaken that he had the power to make me beg for mercy in his feet.
They both bowed as the circled each other, eyes momentarily travelling to the ground, the lifting once more the make a piercing eyes contact. So this was it. The moment of truth. It all started with a simple bow.
A cold piercing voice in my ear commanded me to bow. I used all my power to disobey his wish but it didn’t seem to work. Who was this man that could force the enforcer?
I adjusted my bow then stared at my reflection.
“It’s going to be okay” I thought with a sigh, “You can do this, no one will judge you”,
But what if that wasn’t true? What if I stuff up? What if everyone laughs, or no one claps or everyone starts thinking I’m a loser? It wasn’t like me to do something like this and now I remember why.
He glanced up at the “King” in front of him, peering over his throne as if he were mere dirt on the floor.
“Well?” The King said. The other man was shoved forward with a painful force. He stood up slowly and pushed the guards away.
“I will not bow.” He said firmly. “You are not my king. And you never will be.”
She smiled and tugged softly on the little bow she had sewn onto her wrist years before. “It’s useless now,” she murmured. The promise had been broken, and the little bow was but a gentle reminder of times past.
She carefully tied the ribbon around her head, turning the bow so it would be hidden behind her hair. Most people would assume this to be a simple accessory, a simple headband, but to her it was more than this. She didn’t tie her ribbons on her fingers, no that would be too obvious; instead she took her reminders and put them in her hair.
Take a bow, the night is over, this masquerade is getting older.
Lights are low, the curtains down
There’s no-one here (there’s no-one here…)
Say your lines but do you mean them
Do you mean what you say
When there’s no-one around
Watching you ..
One lonely star
…you don’t know who you are
(remembering bits and pieces of lyrics once memorised!)
a little boy ran into the dining hall. he wore a clean white shirt with a small black bow. he searched for his mother through the crowd of long gowns and penguin suits
rhianna….cuz you put on quite a show…really had me going….but its over now….go on and take a bow……………..chicka wow wow….la la la la la BOW and arrow?