i crouch beneath the couch
to hide from myself
i peel away the layers
but is it voluntary?
i crouch down
and close my eyes
and take a breath
and pretend for just a second
that i do not exist
that i am just viewing this world
while existing apart from it
if i exist at all
but crouching down won’t stop the thoughts in my head
that tick and remind me
i am still part of this bizarre universe
I used to look at a picture of my father in a crouch while he smoked a cigarette. He was young, had all of his hair, and had the best smile on his face. I cannot get this image out of my mind, my young happy father.
This was it I was crouched down on the line. The last play of the game. I just had to make the block of my life to help our team win this game. What and game it had been. My legs feel like a ton of brick, but I will push through. Here we go.
Barty crouch. Barty crouch junior. Father like son, but not so much in this case. I used to be able to crouch a lot but even im too old for that. I don’t know why we get so tired as we get older. It would make more sense if our bodies developed to become better at running, crouching, and other things.
A hidden tiger.
A person about to play. A word that describes mystery and yet a playfullness. Yes, playfullness, I now deem this to be a word that should be used by all. Crouch, play, go! Do something! Don’t just dream about crouching…. just do it.
He crouched and held his breath. Hoping above all hopes that they wouldn’t notice him. That by some miracle they would just keep moving, and he wouldn’t have to endure the pain and torture that they normally applied when they encountered anyone of his race.
She quietly crouched below the table, eyes wide, trying to muffle the sounds that threatened to emerge from her mouth. The moment she made a noise, she knew it would be all over; she’d never get out alive. There was nothing to do but wait and hope.
the crouching many tried to be as small as he could behind the boulder. He knew he had very little chance of outrunning his opponent. His best chance would be to let him pass, and double back around from behind.
He was lying on the ground as his father walked over him, anger brewing in the pit of the old man’s chest. His son was hiding for good reason–he crashed his beauty, his Shirley Temple, his 1979 Mercedes Benz. There wasn’t much left to do but crouch in silence, hoping that his father wouldn’t find him.
I crouched behind the tree. I didn’t know what was happening. I heard a big boom, and the next thing I knew I was running. Why does this have to be happening to me? Today was supposed to be a good day, and now it has turned into a load of crap.
Crouch? I thought it said CRUNCH. And crunch I can write about. Crunch has been my day. Time for me crunched in between meetings and needs and calls and demands. Crunched in between. Of course, crouch is in between, isn’t it? Crouch / crunch … maybe it’s not so different after all.
The crouching tiger? I don’t know what to write on this word. It’s definitely odd to say the least. I almost thought it said couch. Now, if the word was couch that would be different. I really like couches bc you can snuggle on them :)
To crouch, to repose. I crouch during long shifts at work, when my knees feel over stretched, and my ham strings are crying. I take a break and crouch, and my muscles bend and calm and shudder with the contrast induced exstacy. Yeah it’s weird I know.
Tigers crouch, even before there was a movie that said so in its title. Crouching, ready to pounce. There is danger in crouching, both for the one crouched and waiting and for those who do not know of the explosive force about to come at them. It is a scary word.
I feel crouched when I walk down the street, even though I am standing, intentionally tall, willing my shoulders back so I might, from a distance, appear confident to a stranger. But mentally, I am crouched down so low within myself, not wanting to be seen. Because the person I am right now is not someone I want to show off.
Theres a fear that comes. It makes you incapable of doing a single thing. You can’t check under the bed. You can’t look around the tree. If freezes you in time, yet things continue around you. You can not move from a crouched position. Not that it makes you any safer to be crouching.
One day when I went to the park, I saw a tree branch as I was riding my horse and I had to crouch. Oh no! I almost got hit by this tree. Whew! I crouched just in time.
a silent position that reminds me of being sneaking; crouching tiger, waiting to attack; always in the shadows, watching, slithering, waiting for the perfect time to pounce.
Peter Crouch, is let’s face an odd looking bloke. He just doesn’t look like a professional footballer. If you were to see him in the street you would think he was a plasterer or an electrician.
His limbs are all too long. He’s too tall. He’s just all wrong.
His robotic dances were grotesque. But he was celebrating scoring a goal, so he was forgiven.
Peter crouches in the tree, pulling his bird mask down to cover his face. Even after all these years, he still has it from that day in the festival. It got him started on his journey and from that odyssey, he learned who he really was. Peter Pandemonium. He pulls his string back and cocks the arrow in place. There’s only a low whizzing sound when he releases, sending it into the heart of a royal guard.
Genitalia. Everyone has it, and no one likes to get hit there. Sometimes its fun to play with things in that area, depending on how nice or good looking the other person is. Big things come in small packages.
Crouch just makes me laugh. It reminds me of playing hide and seek as a child, and once I’ve found the perfect hiding place, I am crouching and have to pee. It’s one of the worst things in the whole world, but also it’s a telltale sign that you have indeed outwitted and outsmarted the seeker in that you will indeed be crouching, fighting the urge to pee so you can boast and win that legendary game of hide and seek.
Crouching? Well, it’s not a possibilty anymore- so being a baseballcatcher or a floor washer or a sock looker forer is out of the question. But I accept that- they don’t pay very well.
i crouch when im scared, want to be alone, crouch inside my bed under layers of warm covers to escape from the world. and cry
i crouch and cry to myself, small in a body ball of fear and sadness.
other times i crouch just to fit in
I call my couch the crouch because its so uncomfortable. I told my Grandpa that sitting in it was akin to being in the trenches in World War II and he gave me a grumpy, crotchety old laugh. I don’t think he knew what I was talking about.
Crouch is such a silly word. Saying it aloud without meaning is weird too. I can’t think of anything “thoughtful” to say about the word, other than it’s a letter away from “couch” and another away from “crotch,” which makes me immaturely giggle.
sitting behind a plant like a tiger in the lion king creeping on some animal you want to pounce on with wide eyes and that silent anticipation of what is about to happen. or bent over trying to clean up a mess when you’re wearing low cut jeans……
down to pick something up from the sidewalk. To get a closer look at that thing that so often slides so easily and unnoticed beneath your feet, but sustains your very being. Does it not? That which we walk over without a second thought, is that which holds us from oblivion. The floor or an airplane, some volcanic rock, a series of wooden beams, or perhaps an ideal, that in our standing and walking, we’ve grown so far away from.
I crouched there on the floor and hoped they didn’t see me. Out of all the people in the world why did i have to bump into him! Where could I go or hide now!
Lower! Crouch lower! You’ll get caught in this game of hide n seek if the hump of your back is showing over the top of the hedge! Quick. Get on your knees. Curl up in a ball!
3 … 2… 1… GO!
i crouch behind the couch, clandestine and unseen. i can’t find anything but loose change, copper kettle little pennies catching shadows behind the cushions, quietly waiting.
She lays low in a bed of thistles, fingers clenched around a rudimentary weapon of bone and sinew. Her hair is white and wild and spreads like a cloudy halo over her face. Her skin is milky porcelain and her eyes are vibrant, bright blue and alive. She looks delicate, but she is fierce, a warrior.
i crouch beneath the couch
to hide from myself
i peel away the layers
but is it voluntary?
i crouch down
and close my eyes
and take a breath
and pretend for just a second
that i do not exist
that i am just viewing this world
while existing apart from it
if i exist at all
but crouching down won’t stop the thoughts in my head
that tick and remind me
i am still part of this bizarre universe
I used to look at a picture of my father in a crouch while he smoked a cigarette. He was young, had all of his hair, and had the best smile on his face. I cannot get this image out of my mind, my young happy father.
You’re hiding from someone you don’t wanna see, so you crouch down behind people and pretend to go unseen.
This was it I was crouched down on the line. The last play of the game. I just had to make the block of my life to help our team win this game. What and game it had been. My legs feel like a ton of brick, but I will push through. Here we go.
hhhhhhhhiu
I like to play and draw and dance and i like puppies, kittens are great yeah they are swell.
Barty crouch. Barty crouch junior. Father like son, but not so much in this case. I used to be able to crouch a lot but even im too old for that. I don’t know why we get so tired as we get older. It would make more sense if our bodies developed to become better at running, crouching, and other things.
A hidden tiger.
A person about to play. A word that describes mystery and yet a playfullness. Yes, playfullness, I now deem this to be a word that should be used by all. Crouch, play, go! Do something! Don’t just dream about crouching…. just do it.
He crouched and held his breath. Hoping above all hopes that they wouldn’t notice him. That by some miracle they would just keep moving, and he wouldn’t have to endure the pain and torture that they normally applied when they encountered anyone of his race.
She quietly crouched below the table, eyes wide, trying to muffle the sounds that threatened to emerge from her mouth. The moment she made a noise, she knew it would be all over; she’d never get out alive. There was nothing to do but wait and hope.
the crouching many tried to be as small as he could behind the boulder. He knew he had very little chance of outrunning his opponent. His best chance would be to let him pass, and double back around from behind.
under the blanket clipped to the curtain
bending her knees and watching the rain.
He was lying on the ground as his father walked over him, anger brewing in the pit of the old man’s chest. His son was hiding for good reason–he crashed his beauty, his Shirley Temple, his 1979 Mercedes Benz. There wasn’t much left to do but crouch in silence, hoping that his father wouldn’t find him.
I crouched behind the tree. I didn’t know what was happening. I heard a big boom, and the next thing I knew I was running. Why does this have to be happening to me? Today was supposed to be a good day, and now it has turned into a load of crap.
Crouch? I thought it said CRUNCH. And crunch I can write about. Crunch has been my day. Time for me crunched in between meetings and needs and calls and demands. Crunched in between. Of course, crouch is in between, isn’t it? Crouch / crunch … maybe it’s not so different after all.
The crouching tiger? I don’t know what to write on this word. It’s definitely odd to say the least. I almost thought it said couch. Now, if the word was couch that would be different. I really like couches bc you can snuggle on them :)
to stoop or bend low.
To crouch, to repose. I crouch during long shifts at work, when my knees feel over stretched, and my ham strings are crying. I take a break and crouch, and my muscles bend and calm and shudder with the contrast induced exstacy. Yeah it’s weird I know.
Tigers crouch, even before there was a movie that said so in its title. Crouching, ready to pounce. There is danger in crouching, both for the one crouched and waiting and for those who do not know of the explosive force about to come at them. It is a scary word.
I feel crouched when I walk down the street, even though I am standing, intentionally tall, willing my shoulders back so I might, from a distance, appear confident to a stranger. But mentally, I am crouched down so low within myself, not wanting to be seen. Because the person I am right now is not someone I want to show off.
I cannot stand up to what I fear, though I cannot run away. All I can do is try to hide myself as best I can and watch it pass away.
Theres a fear that comes. It makes you incapable of doing a single thing. You can’t check under the bed. You can’t look around the tree. If freezes you in time, yet things continue around you. You can not move from a crouched position. Not that it makes you any safer to be crouching.
One day when I went to the park, I saw a tree branch as I was riding my horse and I had to crouch. Oh no! I almost got hit by this tree. Whew! I crouched just in time.
picking something up. someone is jumping over you. leap frog. exercise. fitting into a small space. curling up in a small ball. bending.
a silent position that reminds me of being sneaking; crouching tiger, waiting to attack; always in the shadows, watching, slithering, waiting for the perfect time to pounce.
Peter Crouch, is let’s face an odd looking bloke. He just doesn’t look like a professional footballer. If you were to see him in the street you would think he was a plasterer or an electrician.
His limbs are all too long. He’s too tall. He’s just all wrong.
His robotic dances were grotesque. But he was celebrating scoring a goal, so he was forgiven.
Peter crouches in the tree, pulling his bird mask down to cover his face. Even after all these years, he still has it from that day in the festival. It got him started on his journey and from that odyssey, he learned who he really was. Peter Pandemonium. He pulls his string back and cocks the arrow in place. There’s only a low whizzing sound when he releases, sending it into the heart of a royal guard.
Genitalia. Everyone has it, and no one likes to get hit there. Sometimes its fun to play with things in that area, depending on how nice or good looking the other person is. Big things come in small packages.
Crouch just makes me laugh. It reminds me of playing hide and seek as a child, and once I’ve found the perfect hiding place, I am crouching and have to pee. It’s one of the worst things in the whole world, but also it’s a telltale sign that you have indeed outwitted and outsmarted the seeker in that you will indeed be crouching, fighting the urge to pee so you can boast and win that legendary game of hide and seek.
Crouching? Well, it’s not a possibilty anymore- so being a baseballcatcher or a floor washer or a sock looker forer is out of the question. But I accept that- they don’t pay very well.
i crouch when im scared, want to be alone, crouch inside my bed under layers of warm covers to escape from the world. and cry
i crouch and cry to myself, small in a body ball of fear and sadness.
other times i crouch just to fit in
I call my couch the crouch because its so uncomfortable. I told my Grandpa that sitting in it was akin to being in the trenches in World War II and he gave me a grumpy, crotchety old laugh. I don’t think he knew what I was talking about.
like a tiger. or a grey nightmare paper wispy soft like dust in the corner.
knees bent and eye lids lowered
lower
bent
angular and jointed.
Crouch is such a silly word. Saying it aloud without meaning is weird too. I can’t think of anything “thoughtful” to say about the word, other than it’s a letter away from “couch” and another away from “crotch,” which makes me immaturely giggle.
sitting behind a plant like a tiger in the lion king creeping on some animal you want to pounce on with wide eyes and that silent anticipation of what is about to happen. or bent over trying to clean up a mess when you’re wearing low cut jeans……
down to pick something up from the sidewalk. To get a closer look at that thing that so often slides so easily and unnoticed beneath your feet, but sustains your very being. Does it not? That which we walk over without a second thought, is that which holds us from oblivion. The floor or an airplane, some volcanic rock, a series of wooden beams, or perhaps an ideal, that in our standing and walking, we’ve grown so far away from.
those who like to crouch are very unhappy people
to stop crouching one must look around a become stronger. after this much self esteem is obtained.
I crouched there on the floor and hoped they didn’t see me. Out of all the people in the world why did i have to bump into him! Where could I go or hide now!
Lower! Crouch lower! You’ll get caught in this game of hide n seek if the hump of your back is showing over the top of the hedge! Quick. Get on your knees. Curl up in a ball!
3 … 2… 1… GO!
i crouch behind the couch, clandestine and unseen. i can’t find anything but loose change, copper kettle little pennies catching shadows behind the cushions, quietly waiting.
She lays low in a bed of thistles, fingers clenched around a rudimentary weapon of bone and sinew. Her hair is white and wild and spreads like a cloudy halo over her face. Her skin is milky porcelain and her eyes are vibrant, bright blue and alive. She looks delicate, but she is fierce, a warrior.