keeping me in one place
you have done nothing less
a piece tossed away
stepped on over and over
you bent over, picking me off the ground
searching for someone else
yet here you are standing beside me
perfection in your simple love
turn around i did that day
as you showed me the way
I can’t get my feet off the ground. I keep flapping my arms, but nothing happens. I am stuck. My brain is stuck. My life is stuck. It is supposed to be a good thing to be grounded. But I am not so sure.
Grounded. That’s what she was. While everyone else was free to fly one would find her on the ground only dreaming of the heavens above, hoping that their intrigue would last just long enough for her to find her wings.
the ground reached up towards me as I fell from the sky above. Stars sped past me and the sight was grand to behold. The ground continued to persue me and I stared down fearfully. Never had I been so afraid as I had been before. The brown earth and green grass that looked more like smudges of paint on a canvas came ever closer, and past me rushed great billowing clouds.
Grounded. Are you grounded? Do you feel steady or off kilter, like you may just topple off the side of the planet? Or, better yet, do you feel as if your feet may leave the ground and you’ll float away into outer space? Do you feel like a purple balloon?
The ground sank out from under him as he spoke the four fateful words. “Maisn akseoin dkajs,” he said in a hushed whisper-voice. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of a thousand little Marios all screaming, “It’s me, MARIO!!” in his ear. He recently popped a pimple, and it dripped pus onto the ground. Maybe this was what was causing him so much turmoil and wretched pain.
Rushing out the door towards the waiting bus, her left foot hit an icy area and she fell hard to the ground. All the occupants of the bus were glaring at her as she gingerly rose to her feet with nothing injuried other than her pride.
The ground is littered with golden fall leaves. The wind is swirling them all around as if the fingers of the gods are stirring their drinks in circular motions. Slowly. Seductively. The sky is dark but the ground is bright, bright gold.
one day i was sitting on the ground and an apple fell on my head. It hurt, the ground thought so to. The ground was frosty when i woke up this morning.
Sometimes I don’t want to live on this ground. I want to float around weightless with a clear mind. That’s what it feels like when my system is stuffed with lemon water. When nothing but water and diet coke get past these lips. Those days I don’t have to be like anyone else and I don’t have to make those comparisons because I can be all on my own and love it.
I love the smell of ground coffee. I think I like it better than the actual brewed coffee. It just smells so earthy. Organic. Caffeinated. Like a crisp fall morning. Pumpkin sugar nutmeg milk cream and ceramic cups.
Next to her cheap silicon I look minimal.
That’s why right in front of your eyes I’m invisible.
But you should know small things also count.
Better put your feet on the ground.
falling, getting up, soil, earth. gazing at the stars. listening with your ear to the ground. sometimes the best times are spent down there. The most beautiful of worlds can be explorered therere
I stand on the ground and walk on it. I fell on the ground once. The ground is hard and it hurts to fall on it. With out it we all fall into space. Its usually gray because of concrete, idk LOL. uh its spelled with 6 letters and like yeah
the ground was quaking beneath my feet and i fell. He pulled me up and hugged me but all I could imagine was the hate and the suspension i felt when the earth cracked open and it shattered before me. The worst part was that I knew, he, too, felt that earth quake and would be enveloped in its dark, dark abyss.
Falling. Falling toward the ground at a millions miles a second. I’m not scared of falling. They told me that falling doesn’t hurt and I believe them. It’s just the stopping I’m afraid of. The impact of my brain hitting the inside of my skull.
On the ground lay the dead, mutilated body of my lover. His legs were twisted in a way that made me cringe. But it was the blood and nerves oozing from his brain that made me vomit.
The ground. Six feet down I’m looking at my best friend. He lie there as I stand above him like a god looking at his creation. I study him there and realize he is gone… and never coming back.
The rain seeped through the sides of my wooden enclosure. So this was it. This is how I was going to die, buried here in the ground. I never thought that I would die like this. I believed that I would live a long and healthy life. Instead, they suspected me dead and buried me, very much alive. Hours ago I realized that that was not a possibility. My voice is hoarse from all of my unheard screams: my nails, trashed from clawing at the sides of my tomb.
Ground… to be grounded, not in the way that a parent puts a child into penitence and has them under basic house arrest. No. Ground, to be grounded and of sound mind. To be wise and not confounded. Be of common sense.
she’s hitting the ground running, never holding back, just running, feet hitting the pavement, snow swirling around her head like a halo. she stops in the glow of a street light and catches her breath, staring at the ground beneath her. when she gets her bearings, she knows what to do, where to go, because there’s so much expected of her and so little she can actually do. so she hits the ground running again, looking forward instead of back.
The rain seeped through the sides of my wooden enclosure. So this was it. This is how I was going to die, buried here in the ground. I never thought that I would die like this. I believed that I would live a long and healthy life. Instead, they suspected me dead and buried me, very much alive.
she’s hitting the ground running, never holding back, just running, feet hitting the pavement, snow swirling around her head like a halo. she stops in the glow of a street light and catches her breath, stating at the ground beneath her.
I looked at the ground, so far below me, and began to wonder if this was really the best idea. A doubt, however small, began to creep into my mind. But I shoved it away. If I was going to leave behind the pain forever, I had to do this. I jumped.
here i have a silver canvas and must write whatever the word GROUND inspires me
to write. Right ground is a loveley loverly thing. Pascal lives in a little house on is own an i do be talkinn to myself when am goin ome in the evennins an the sunn does be settin
an OH GOD! the shadows that abound in the undulations of the ground does make me crave to paint. Id ony luv ta be Pascal and I’d spend me whole life just painting the lights and shadows o those wonderful undulations.around is ouse
the ground is hard. there are cracks where water spilled in and then froze in the night. i can see small clouds coming out of my lips as i watch my feet tread upon the frigid dirt. I have walked this path for years and watched the cracks on the ground reseal and break open again as the years being and end. I’ts almost nostalgic, but something’s missing.
round here the ground is not so sound. I’ve found in ground unsound concealed
holes that astound they abound all around and seem daily to increase. I love the sounds
all around here in this lonesome place. It is my ground tho who would be found wanting
it. There is a mysterious mound.
he hit the ground. hard. i called after him. … how could they do this to him? he didn’t do anything wrong. it was her… it was all her fault and now here he was laying on the ground… bleeding.
territory. somewhere where the hoss can roll. Love ground. gain ground in other ways than ordinary ground. Astound by differences of ground. feet on ground. give me ground-
lots of ground. ground to grow orchards of pear tree, You come join me and we’ll
share a soft juicy pear- fruit of the ground. love ground. lust for ground on this Earth.
With my feet on the ground I keep running
Not know which direction I am going
But keeping straight towards this feeling inside me
An unknown force tugging at my heartstrings
I know I must be close to my destination
a speck of dirt, grit fell into my eye
Each blink scratched it further in
A groove along the cornea, the iris
Gaping, the pupil opening like a vagina
To let the seed of wasteland in
I feel lifted.
Shifted.
Laced and placed on this eerie landmark.
But he cannot prop me up somewhere.
Somewhere so unstable.
When he is but the vast space I can step in.
Immerse myself in.
And think that I need to stay.
To console him.
To fill these crevices on the unstable framework.
To ground him.
When I just want to feel lifted.
The ground is solid. It is nice to be back on solid ground many people say after a roller coaster ride called life takes us for a ride. Just how long will it last, there is always something that sweeps us off our feet.
keeping me in one place
you have done nothing less
a piece tossed away
stepped on over and over
you bent over, picking me off the ground
searching for someone else
yet here you are standing beside me
perfection in your simple love
turn around i did that day
as you showed me the way
I can’t get my feet off the ground. I keep flapping my arms, but nothing happens. I am stuck. My brain is stuck. My life is stuck. It is supposed to be a good thing to be grounded. But I am not so sure.
Grounded. That’s what she was. While everyone else was free to fly one would find her on the ground only dreaming of the heavens above, hoping that their intrigue would last just long enough for her to find her wings.
the ground reached up towards me as I fell from the sky above. Stars sped past me and the sight was grand to behold. The ground continued to persue me and I stared down fearfully. Never had I been so afraid as I had been before. The brown earth and green grass that looked more like smudges of paint on a canvas came ever closer, and past me rushed great billowing clouds.
Grounded. Are you grounded? Do you feel steady or off kilter, like you may just topple off the side of the planet? Or, better yet, do you feel as if your feet may leave the ground and you’ll float away into outer space? Do you feel like a purple balloon?
The ground sank out from under him as he spoke the four fateful words. “Maisn akseoin dkajs,” he said in a hushed whisper-voice. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of a thousand little Marios all screaming, “It’s me, MARIO!!” in his ear. He recently popped a pimple, and it dripped pus onto the ground. Maybe this was what was causing him so much turmoil and wretched pain.
Rushing out the door towards the waiting bus, her left foot hit an icy area and she fell hard to the ground. All the occupants of the bus were glaring at her as she gingerly rose to her feet with nothing injuried other than her pride.
The ground is my only friend. We are one in the same. I am the Earth and the Earth is me. We are all simply stardust.
The ground is littered with golden fall leaves. The wind is swirling them all around as if the fingers of the gods are stirring their drinks in circular motions. Slowly. Seductively. The sky is dark but the ground is bright, bright gold.
one day i was sitting on the ground and an apple fell on my head. It hurt, the ground thought so to. The ground was frosty when i woke up this morning.
Sometimes I don’t want to live on this ground. I want to float around weightless with a clear mind. That’s what it feels like when my system is stuffed with lemon water. When nothing but water and diet coke get past these lips. Those days I don’t have to be like anyone else and I don’t have to make those comparisons because I can be all on my own and love it.
I love the smell of ground coffee. I think I like it better than the actual brewed coffee. It just smells so earthy. Organic. Caffeinated. Like a crisp fall morning. Pumpkin sugar nutmeg milk cream and ceramic cups.
I am not afraid of heights. I’m not even really afraid of falling. Its hitting the ground that troubles me.
Next to her cheap silicon I look minimal.
That’s why right in front of your eyes I’m invisible.
But you should know small things also count.
Better put your feet on the ground.
falling, getting up, soil, earth. gazing at the stars. listening with your ear to the ground. sometimes the best times are spent down there. The most beautiful of worlds can be explorered therere
I stand on the ground and walk on it. I fell on the ground once. The ground is hard and it hurts to fall on it. With out it we all fall into space. Its usually gray because of concrete, idk LOL. uh its spelled with 6 letters and like yeah
the ground was quaking beneath my feet and i fell. He pulled me up and hugged me but all I could imagine was the hate and the suspension i felt when the earth cracked open and it shattered before me. The worst part was that I knew, he, too, felt that earth quake and would be enveloped in its dark, dark abyss.
Blue skies….grey days…..muddy ground….days are always changing, but as long as I am grounded life is good.
Falling. Falling toward the ground at a millions miles a second. I’m not scared of falling. They told me that falling doesn’t hurt and I believe them. It’s just the stopping I’m afraid of. The impact of my brain hitting the inside of my skull.
On the ground lay the dead, mutilated body of my lover. His legs were twisted in a way that made me cringe. But it was the blood and nerves oozing from his brain that made me vomit.
The ground. Six feet down I’m looking at my best friend. He lie there as I stand above him like a god looking at his creation. I study him there and realize he is gone… and never coming back.
The rain seeped through the sides of my wooden enclosure. So this was it. This is how I was going to die, buried here in the ground. I never thought that I would die like this. I believed that I would live a long and healthy life. Instead, they suspected me dead and buried me, very much alive. Hours ago I realized that that was not a possibility. My voice is hoarse from all of my unheard screams: my nails, trashed from clawing at the sides of my tomb.
Ground… to be grounded, not in the way that a parent puts a child into penitence and has them under basic house arrest. No. Ground, to be grounded and of sound mind. To be wise and not confounded. Be of common sense.
she’s hitting the ground running, never holding back, just running, feet hitting the pavement, snow swirling around her head like a halo. she stops in the glow of a street light and catches her breath, staring at the ground beneath her. when she gets her bearings, she knows what to do, where to go, because there’s so much expected of her and so little she can actually do. so she hits the ground running again, looking forward instead of back.
The rain seeped through the sides of my wooden enclosure. So this was it. This is how I was going to die, buried here in the ground. I never thought that I would die like this. I believed that I would live a long and healthy life. Instead, they suspected me dead and buried me, very much alive.
she’s hitting the ground running, never holding back, just running, feet hitting the pavement, snow swirling around her head like a halo. she stops in the glow of a street light and catches her breath, stating at the ground beneath her.
I looked at the ground, so far below me, and began to wonder if this was really the best idea. A doubt, however small, began to creep into my mind. But I shoved it away. If I was going to leave behind the pain forever, I had to do this. I jumped.
no ground below me. don’t. look. down. closed eyes will keep me alive. alive is all I now. eyes closed.
the ground is soggy. munch, munch, munch are the sounds my feet make as I walk across the wet field. Walking towards you, towards destiny.
here i have a silver canvas and must write whatever the word GROUND inspires me
to write. Right ground is a loveley loverly thing. Pascal lives in a little house on is own an i do be talkinn to myself when am goin ome in the evennins an the sunn does be settin
an OH GOD! the shadows that abound in the undulations of the ground does make me crave to paint. Id ony luv ta be Pascal and I’d spend me whole life just painting the lights and shadows o those wonderful undulations.around is ouse
the ground is hard. there are cracks where water spilled in and then froze in the night. i can see small clouds coming out of my lips as i watch my feet tread upon the frigid dirt. I have walked this path for years and watched the cracks on the ground reseal and break open again as the years being and end. I’ts almost nostalgic, but something’s missing.
round here the ground is not so sound. I’ve found in ground unsound concealed
holes that astound they abound all around and seem daily to increase. I love the sounds
all around here in this lonesome place. It is my ground tho who would be found wanting
it. There is a mysterious mound.
She buried her heart in the deepest grave
Its corpse was cold as ice.
All because she loved just once,
but refuses to hurt twice.
he hit the ground. hard. i called after him. … how could they do this to him? he didn’t do anything wrong. it was her… it was all her fault and now here he was laying on the ground… bleeding.
territory. somewhere where the hoss can roll. Love ground. gain ground in other ways than ordinary ground. Astound by differences of ground. feet on ground. give me ground-
lots of ground. ground to grow orchards of pear tree, You come join me and we’ll
share a soft juicy pear- fruit of the ground. love ground. lust for ground on this Earth.
With my feet on the ground I keep running
Not know which direction I am going
But keeping straight towards this feeling inside me
An unknown force tugging at my heartstrings
I know I must be close to my destination
a speck of dirt, grit fell into my eye
Each blink scratched it further in
A groove along the cornea, the iris
Gaping, the pupil opening like a vagina
To let the seed of wasteland in
I feel lifted.
Shifted.
Laced and placed on this eerie landmark.
But he cannot prop me up somewhere.
Somewhere so unstable.
When he is but the vast space I can step in.
Immerse myself in.
And think that I need to stay.
To console him.
To fill these crevices on the unstable framework.
To ground him.
When I just want to feel lifted.
The ground is solid. It is nice to be back on solid ground many people say after a roller coaster ride called life takes us for a ride. Just how long will it last, there is always something that sweeps us off our feet.
gravity is the greatest limitation to the mind. go, stand your ground, for trenches in your mind.