My sister was calling to me. “Why are there polar bears on my blanket?”
“Huh?”
“They’re crawling all over me!”
Clearly this wasn’t going to be a restful night of sleep. “I’ll get Mom.” I bolted out of bed and down the hall.
I stood by the phone, waiting for him to call me. No sign. Shuffling my feet, I watched and waited, my nerves taunt and edgy as electric wires. Was he okay? Did he survive? There were no sounds of sirens on the street, so I tried to breath in a sign of relief. Finally, the phone rang.
me you calling anyone out there to say how i can move along with this calling of mine. how can i find my way in this pile of rubbish i call a life right now my heart is pumping and i’m wondering if ill find my calling through adversity or advertisement
it’s what we go to college for, no?
to find our calling.
what it is we’re made to do. meant to do.
still searching.
people graduate and go on. find jobs.
some never find their calling.
i hope i do. i’m working hard for it.
trying so many things.
haven’t found it yet.
but maybe some day.
you are like a calling
I can’t avoid indulging in you
I can’t pretend I don’t want you
I can’t deny my hunger for you
you make my body sing your praises
she was calling someone’s name, calling into the distance but they could never hear her. You can’t hear someone from inside their head, no matter how loudly they are thinking. But you can’t call across an ocean anyway, so why say it out loud?
A sense of direction or the sound between the trees when the wind turns and you’re reminded that there’s a finite time on this earth and we’d really better get ourselves living the way we want.
Calling, if you call someone on the phone it is called calling or you can call out to someone which is also called calling and you call out to someone to get their attention or calling something like giving it a name. If you want to start calling someone on a phone then you have to have their number. If you are calling them to get their attention then you have to yell at them.
Do I have one? Sometimes I hate answering the phone; mostly, I do, but I fully expect people to answer when I call–even when it’s at 2 am, or maybe especially when it’s at 2 am, because why would I be calling then unless there were some real crisis in my life? But when people call me, I am inevitably watching one of the three shows I actually want to see a week (not three
calling is when you call someone you love, hate.. it actually doesn’t matter
it doesnt have to me calling on a phone, it can be calling to a friend who is about to leave you, or it can we someone calling (literally for you).
“i started calling for help as soon as i saw my friend collapse on the ground.”
I am waiting in a forest cold trees if it falls can you hear it yes said the bird who lived on it calling to its mate a flutter of wings falling calling gunshot feathers splattered alone the other bird flies to find its mate a pile of feathers, the ink running in a broken poem red heart beating slow deaths of another.
I never found my calling. I guess it just didn’t call loud enough. He did, though. So while I was left sitting at home he was off chasing dreams and stars too far for me to fathom.
If he were calling me now, I couldn’t tell him I’d lived. I could only let him know he was in my mind when the last drink poured slowly into my spiked glass. That every mistake was made to engineer my soul and better fit his in this puzzle we call life.
I heard the calling, but was I ready to give me life up for such? People would say I had taken the easy way out after Ethan’s leaving, well I wouldn’t be around them so let them say it.
Well that was another matter entirely. First off, her name wouldn’t do. It just wasn’t… fit for the purpose. Secondly, her attire was, well, to say the least, improper. There wasn’t much I felt I could do, but at the sight of her imploring eyes I gritted my teeth and set myself upon the task.
Into every life this should be true: that you seek and find a light to follow, a calling, some siren call that will pull you out of everyday reality and colour your world with purpose. When you find this it will no longer be possible to drift in and out following random dreams or being distracted by shiney objects. You must fight and defend and give life to the meaning you have found,even against your own fears and weakness, for the sake of the world.
He called the first night, then the second, then the tenth… It was always three times throughout the day, and then twice by nightfall, before ten. She wondered, later in life, how she had reacted to his first attempts calling. Was it fear that ran through her during those first rings, dread? Or was it anticipation? Surely, she was too jaded by that point to be anxious? Her old burnt heart said bitter things like that sometimes.
She brayed out his name and the crowd turned their one-something heads. The faces intermingled, her vision dimmed. She called again and that mess of heads swarmed her, hovering like ghostly vultures. His little body grew colder the longer it took her to regain her vision and original voice.
You watched me from the wooden chair across the room as I picked up my phone. You didn’t think I would do it. You didn’t think I could. Frankly, I couldn’t believe I had even volunteered. Steven sat opposite you, holding the purple controller to his N64, driving Link in search of Zelda, and watching me from the corner of his eye. He didn’t believe I’d never done it before.
Slowly, I entered the numbers you gave me.
I paused a moment, allowing my fear to flood over me. Then I looked at the clock. 1:50am. There wasn’t much time left. So, looking at you, I pressed Send.
…
“Pizza Pipeline, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I’d like to order a pizza,” I said, avoiding your gaze as you laughed with your eyes.
…
And after all that, the pizza never got delivered…
Oh, the things you do to impress someone.
What a word. Writing has always been easy but lately its just a supposed to type of thing. I feel like I should. I need to, don’t I? Wasn’t this my calling? Wasn’t this supposed to free me of all these beasts and horrors that lie around, waiting for me to make any move? How do I get it back, the release that writing used to give me, the pesticide for these monsters?
tonight is even toned, a soft melody against a rather boring background. tonight someone is changing their life and wanting to share the experience but not here. here there is day old wine in glasses as big and deep as chowder bowls as to make the night seem endless. i keep dreaming of driving. driving too quickly i can’t get the speed right. i can’t slow down. what it means i only half know. somewhere someone has made a life choice they’re sticking to, but not here not yet. my mouth has made the choice but my insides know better. my insides are the car, my outside is the motion. i’m setting too many things in motion, my mouth too big for my britches. britches so big in my mouth, so good, so alluring. half toned, even toned, tell a lie the truth. my life’s become a turbine blowing a bitter sooth. it’s 26 minutes to midnight in the 26th year a familiar rebellion scratches my inner ribs, my false ribs. it tickles almost, the idea of reverting. tickles safe like an old small pink blanket not at all like the seizing tightness of the unknown grown up self. unknown grown up old future me. potential grows inside me exponentially. yuck! crap! crap shoot old new me, silly simple grown newbie. yuck! crap! crap shoot out the gun of my mouth into the middle of America, to Texas. Austin, Texas. who’d’ve thought? not me, the silly simple grown up newbie. little girl, little girl forever. until now.
he was calling her but there was no answer. So he ran through the rain to her house, up the 5 flights of stairs, it somehow made everything alright. sometimes the show of effort is enough to solve problems. shows that you care
The phone chirped in John’s pocket. He answered it without thinking and heard a different sound. It was helpless mewling and the line went dead. John stared at his phone. How could a cat call him and hang up? He checked the number and it was Sherlock’s. How did a cat get his phone? He excused himself from the pub and ran to 221B Baker Street.
It did not sweep or set upon me. It was the absence of action it was the perfect calm and I knew this is what I meant to do and I will do. Hubris she would later say. But it was not folly I was called.
I was calling my best friend yesterday and she told me the most amazing thing! I couldn’t believe it had happened to her, but as she told me more and more of the story, I couldn’t help but believe it had actually happened. It started just after school…
“Hello!?” I called, “Is anyone there!?”. I stood in the empty house wondering if I was really all alone. A small bump echoed from the upstairs bedroom. I stood extremely still not wanting to be heard. “Am I over reacting?” I wonder, “Or is there really someone in this house?”.
“Hello!?” I called, “Is anyone there!?”. I stood in the empty house wondering if I was really all alone. An small bump echoed from the upstairs bedroom.
I stood there in the dim light of the lantern, calling out for my bobby. I shouted and screamed but still no answer came from the other side of the steel door.
Sometimes Louis thinks he might have missed his calling. It’s nothing he wants to linger on, because who the fuck wants to believe they’re wasting their only shot? He loves teaching, adores his stupids -because they’re on his maturity level if he’s really being honest- and he doesn’t mind teaching them the fine art of drama. But still, some nights when he’s on his way home and he hears a song he loves and he sings along -he’s not that great- there’s still a pang of what if I had gotten through?
I know my calling, and i guess its calling for sacrifice…
Though I wish that you didn’t have to be one, it has to be for the best
I wish you the best in life though I don’t seem like I do, the both of you I wish the best.
There’s a certain tug between two impulses of mine. Two things calling in two directions. One is to put on the heavy bass, to alow a synth to flow over. The other is to let the guitars pluck, to slide the bar on the iPhone, to let a love song teach me all over again how to be. Only trouble there is I’ve got this sad poem to write, see? I can’t remember how to love too quick. I’ll lose focus.
a stranger calls. you answer and all you hear is the melodic laughter of what sounds like an adorable little girl. you check the caller id but it remains anonymous. but wait a minute! that laugh sounds strikingly familiar… leaaah
Hello?! said the frightened kid You see that. Thats a calling. Calling is everywhere, but we may not know it. We used calling to ask for help or maybe just to socialize. A cell phone is a great example of socializing with calling. Or maybe someone got lost in the woods and they are yelling help. See! Thats a calling.
My sister was calling to me. “Why are there polar bears on my blanket?”
“Huh?”
“They’re crawling all over me!”
Clearly this wasn’t going to be a restful night of sleep. “I’ll get Mom.” I bolted out of bed and down the hall.
All cars, London! It not yours, that’s for sure!
London calling the clash is great
I stood by the phone, waiting for him to call me. No sign. Shuffling my feet, I watched and waited, my nerves taunt and edgy as electric wires. Was he okay? Did he survive? There were no sounds of sirens on the street, so I tried to breath in a sign of relief. Finally, the phone rang.
me you calling anyone out there to say how i can move along with this calling of mine. how can i find my way in this pile of rubbish i call a life right now my heart is pumping and i’m wondering if ill find my calling through adversity or advertisement
it’s what we go to college for, no?
to find our calling.
what it is we’re made to do. meant to do.
still searching.
people graduate and go on. find jobs.
some never find their calling.
i hope i do. i’m working hard for it.
trying so many things.
haven’t found it yet.
but maybe some day.
you are like a calling
I can’t avoid indulging in you
I can’t pretend I don’t want you
I can’t deny my hunger for you
you make my body sing your praises
oh chocolate, how divine you are!
she was calling someone’s name, calling into the distance but they could never hear her. You can’t hear someone from inside their head, no matter how loudly they are thinking. But you can’t call across an ocean anyway, so why say it out loud?
A sense of direction or the sound between the trees when the wind turns and you’re reminded that there’s a finite time on this earth and we’d really better get ourselves living the way we want.
Calling, if you call someone on the phone it is called calling or you can call out to someone which is also called calling and you call out to someone to get their attention or calling something like giving it a name. If you want to start calling someone on a phone then you have to have their number. If you are calling them to get their attention then you have to yell at them.
Do I have one? Sometimes I hate answering the phone; mostly, I do, but I fully expect people to answer when I call–even when it’s at 2 am, or maybe especially when it’s at 2 am, because why would I be calling then unless there were some real crisis in my life? But when people call me, I am inevitably watching one of the three shows I actually want to see a week (not three
calling is when you call someone you love, hate.. it actually doesn’t matter
it doesnt have to me calling on a phone, it can be calling to a friend who is about to leave you, or it can we someone calling (literally for you).
“i started calling for help as soon as i saw my friend collapse on the ground.”
I’m calling out his name, calling out for him to stop. I know that he can’t, and the volts and jolts keep coming.
It’s torture, this shocking electrifying mess that we’ve gotten ourselves into.
Tears fall down both our cheeks. When it’s all over we’re both going to be so broken.
I call out to him, telling him to do what he must. If it will save us all in the end.
I am waiting in a forest cold trees if it falls can you hear it yes said the bird who lived on it calling to its mate a flutter of wings falling calling gunshot feathers splattered alone the other bird flies to find its mate a pile of feathers, the ink running in a broken poem red heart beating slow deaths of another.
I never found my calling. I guess it just didn’t call loud enough. He did, though. So while I was left sitting at home he was off chasing dreams and stars too far for me to fathom.
If he were calling me now, I couldn’t tell him I’d lived. I could only let him know he was in my mind when the last drink poured slowly into my spiked glass. That every mistake was made to engineer my soul and better fit his in this puzzle we call life.
I dont have a calling.Nothing I am really good at. Oh well.
I heard the calling, but was I ready to give me life up for such? People would say I had taken the easy way out after Ethan’s leaving, well I wouldn’t be around them so let them say it.
Well that was another matter entirely. First off, her name wouldn’t do. It just wasn’t… fit for the purpose. Secondly, her attire was, well, to say the least, improper. There wasn’t much I felt I could do, but at the sight of her imploring eyes I gritted my teeth and set myself upon the task.
Into every life this should be true: that you seek and find a light to follow, a calling, some siren call that will pull you out of everyday reality and colour your world with purpose. When you find this it will no longer be possible to drift in and out following random dreams or being distracted by shiney objects. You must fight and defend and give life to the meaning you have found,even against your own fears and weakness, for the sake of the world.
He called the first night, then the second, then the tenth… It was always three times throughout the day, and then twice by nightfall, before ten. She wondered, later in life, how she had reacted to his first attempts calling. Was it fear that ran through her during those first rings, dread? Or was it anticipation? Surely, she was too jaded by that point to be anxious? Her old burnt heart said bitter things like that sometimes.
She brayed out his name and the crowd turned their one-something heads. The faces intermingled, her vision dimmed. She called again and that mess of heads swarmed her, hovering like ghostly vultures. His little body grew colder the longer it took her to regain her vision and original voice.
You watched me from the wooden chair across the room as I picked up my phone. You didn’t think I would do it. You didn’t think I could. Frankly, I couldn’t believe I had even volunteered. Steven sat opposite you, holding the purple controller to his N64, driving Link in search of Zelda, and watching me from the corner of his eye. He didn’t believe I’d never done it before.
Slowly, I entered the numbers you gave me.
I paused a moment, allowing my fear to flood over me. Then I looked at the clock. 1:50am. There wasn’t much time left. So, looking at you, I pressed Send.
…
“Pizza Pipeline, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I’d like to order a pizza,” I said, avoiding your gaze as you laughed with your eyes.
…
And after all that, the pizza never got delivered…
Oh, the things you do to impress someone.
What a word. Writing has always been easy but lately its just a supposed to type of thing. I feel like I should. I need to, don’t I? Wasn’t this my calling? Wasn’t this supposed to free me of all these beasts and horrors that lie around, waiting for me to make any move? How do I get it back, the release that writing used to give me, the pesticide for these monsters?
my feet smell like clean dogs
they walk like nimble cats
they stamp like wet sand
my hands smell like fresh milk
they sweat like newborn babies
they wring like worried old women
your mouth
a dark cavern
an unsung aftershave
a wet comma
hanging on the fall sky
of eugene, oregon
my feet smell like clean dogs
they walk like cats
they stamp like wet sand
my hands smell like fresh milk
they sweat like newborn babies
they wring like worried old women
tonight is even toned, a soft melody against a rather boring background. tonight someone is changing their life and wanting to share the experience but not here. here there is day old wine in glasses as big and deep as chowder bowls as to make the night seem endless. i keep dreaming of driving. driving too quickly i can’t get the speed right. i can’t slow down. what it means i only half know. somewhere someone has made a life choice they’re sticking to, but not here not yet. my mouth has made the choice but my insides know better. my insides are the car, my outside is the motion. i’m setting too many things in motion, my mouth too big for my britches. britches so big in my mouth, so good, so alluring. half toned, even toned, tell a lie the truth. my life’s become a turbine blowing a bitter sooth. it’s 26 minutes to midnight in the 26th year a familiar rebellion scratches my inner ribs, my false ribs. it tickles almost, the idea of reverting. tickles safe like an old small pink blanket not at all like the seizing tightness of the unknown grown up self. unknown grown up old future me. potential grows inside me exponentially. yuck! crap! crap shoot old new me, silly simple grown newbie. yuck! crap! crap shoot out the gun of my mouth into the middle of America, to Texas. Austin, Texas. who’d’ve thought? not me, the silly simple grown up newbie. little girl, little girl forever. until now.
he was calling her but there was no answer. So he ran through the rain to her house, up the 5 flights of stairs, it somehow made everything alright. sometimes the show of effort is enough to solve problems. shows that you care
The phone chirped in John’s pocket. He answered it without thinking and heard a different sound. It was helpless mewling and the line went dead. John stared at his phone. How could a cat call him and hang up? He checked the number and it was Sherlock’s. How did a cat get his phone? He excused himself from the pub and ran to 221B Baker Street.
It did not sweep or set upon me. It was the absence of action it was the perfect calm and I knew this is what I meant to do and I will do. Hubris she would later say. But it was not folly I was called.
I was calling my best friend yesterday and she told me the most amazing thing! I couldn’t believe it had happened to her, but as she told me more and more of the story, I couldn’t help but believe it had actually happened. It started just after school…
“Hello!?” I called, “Is anyone there!?”. I stood in the empty house wondering if I was really all alone. A small bump echoed from the upstairs bedroom. I stood extremely still not wanting to be heard. “Am I over reacting?” I wonder, “Or is there really someone in this house?”.
“Hello!?” I called, “Is anyone there!?”. I stood in the empty house wondering if I was really all alone. An small bump echoed from the upstairs bedroom.
I stood there in the dim light of the lantern, calling out for my bobby. I shouted and screamed but still no answer came from the other side of the steel door.
Sometimes Louis thinks he might have missed his calling. It’s nothing he wants to linger on, because who the fuck wants to believe they’re wasting their only shot? He loves teaching, adores his stupids -because they’re on his maturity level if he’s really being honest- and he doesn’t mind teaching them the fine art of drama. But still, some nights when he’s on his way home and he hears a song he loves and he sings along -he’s not that great- there’s still a pang of what if I had gotten through?
I know my calling, and i guess its calling for sacrifice…
Though I wish that you didn’t have to be one, it has to be for the best
I wish you the best in life though I don’t seem like I do, the both of you I wish the best.
There’s a certain tug between two impulses of mine. Two things calling in two directions. One is to put on the heavy bass, to alow a synth to flow over. The other is to let the guitars pluck, to slide the bar on the iPhone, to let a love song teach me all over again how to be. Only trouble there is I’ve got this sad poem to write, see? I can’t remember how to love too quick. I’ll lose focus.
a stranger calls. you answer and all you hear is the melodic laughter of what sounds like an adorable little girl. you check the caller id but it remains anonymous. but wait a minute! that laugh sounds strikingly familiar… leaaah
Hello?! said the frightened kid You see that. Thats a calling. Calling is everywhere, but we may not know it. We used calling to ask for help or maybe just to socialize. A cell phone is a great example of socializing with calling. Or maybe someone got lost in the woods and they are yelling help. See! Thats a calling.
On the phone, across the room, from above. What is my calling? My writing of course, what else would it be?