I never understood the point of marbles. I liked that they were pretty and would pick out the ones I liked, but in the end they just took up room and got everywhere. Isn’t it funny that I feel like I do that with lots of things, even people sometimes. How judgmental does that make me?
marble to play with. i liked the colors and i still like them, though i don’t have a single marble in my house. the other day i found a bag of marble at a store for kids and i thought i should buy one, but didn’t. what memory does the bag evoke?
marble. countertop. thinking of marvel…could u marvel at marble? yep. marble. little glass balls. mancala. sisters. “clink clink clink clink” go the little balls.
i love marble cakes, but not the game of marbles, they go everywhere and when you’re walking through the house you’ll stand on one and end up ass on the ground with a very sore foot.
marble and myriad chaser, in a black cadillac, in khakis, as though you’ve constructed your whole life around accommodating the assonance in sentences that will be written about you, like a blind chef to the kitchen, dependent on his confidence that he can feel the degrees of the fire in the oven, or stove, you don’t really know, because your mother microwaved frozen meals, but you think of this man, imaginary, presumably, and in passing thought, in times like these, when, in turning off the engine, forgetting, for a second, the confidence that you must carry always, the confidence that tomorrow night is gonna be a better one, less hookers and more hipsters at the bar you’ve paid to get up on the stage for an hour and showcase your many wondrous talents, the tips into your case as you wait outside the bar afterwards just enough to break even and a little more, keep a cat’s eye marble in your back pocket to help you sit up straight when you tire of this life.
Marble is a metamorphic rock composed from carbonate minerals but it sound like food to me!
a marble is just a rock i think is like any other rock! and im not interested in marbles at all! they seem boring welll i actually don’t like any kind of rocks cause they are not fun at all! they are just some rocks!
The marble table in the entry way was worn, and almost unnoticeable as she noticed the note that sat upon it. The note was written in a strange hand and seemed to be both cursive and block at the same time, who was it from? The opening line was ominous and menacing but also vexing, why now?
“You look damn good in marble,” the sculptor whispered in the bust’s ear. She stepped back, took in the whole bust once more, compared it to the dead body propped up on the chair beside it. She grabbed her hair, pulled the long ends of it above her head and danced like a Dervish. She sang loud and out of tune over and over, “You can no longer talk across me! I am now the smarter one! Oh hee hee heeeeee!”
I like marble and it looks good in the kitchen specially if all of the kitchen is white marble. It is pretty. before they used it a lot, now its expensive.
And it rolled and rolled and crashed along the way. Knocking things over and turning beauty to dismay. It embarked on a quest to be a savior some way. Ending so badly, no one could ever repay.
back and forth, an hourglass of life. I saw you and you saw me. Our distorted reflections showed our glee. We’ll be dead one day. But before that, we might remember this moment, how useless, and oh, how we could have been using that time more productively. But…that was the only time worth living for, the only time when living was actually possible. Remember and use those precious voices to find yourself.
She slipped out of bed
It was still early and she was the last only one awake.
Her breath showed up as a thin fog in the air before her
and she felt the cold marble floors against her feet.
the world was still
and she sat in the middle of the cold.
The ocean was calm and quite. So dazzling and beautiful. Nothing out of the ordinary except for…marbles. Millions of them scattered about, I found them everywhere.
rolling marbles in the sand across the park while laughing with your group of friends. calling out points and who’s winning, who’s losing, it seems to be the best moment of your life.
I looked at the marble, I wasn’t sure if I should trade it. My Dad had given it to me, and told me that he had it as a boy, and so did his father. I knew it might not be a good idea to trade, but boy did I want the marble Tom had. So with this logic I made a decision that I would regret forever.
It rolled across the floor, reflecting tables, chairs, and all the glowing apparatus of the room in it’s incandescent surface. A tiny globe carrying a small city of sights on it, a wonder for the eye to behold, if only one was small enough to appreciate it’s glory. To bask in it’s magnificence.
Julie was sold on the marble counter tops in both the kitchen and bath room until she found out they were fake. Joe tried to explain to her that they were authentic but she knew he was lying and she sacrificed him there. Dead. Joe is dead.
The halls whispered- ‘though still-unravished bride of quietness- with the curtains drawn back from the windows and the grounds outside, damp English weather.
Little more than veined torsos with sightless eyes and graceful shoulders, sexless from cheek to navel with their hair in curls, calcified.
i just remember growing up and playing with marbles. usually clear, often a mix of the most beautiful shades of blue and green. rolling them about tabletops and floors. hearing the sound of them against the surface and of their collisions. i remember the excitement of fishing them out of those bottles of japanese soda and wanting it more than anything in the world, even though i had dozens easily accessible. reminders of math problems from childhood- probability, estimation, and arithmetic, of physics from high school- gravity, movement, friction.
A kind of cheese. Or a slab that makes some really delicious ice cream. Also, the kind of counter tops I want to have one day. Does that make me superficial?
Over the marble flooring laid an expanse of jewels. All around they seemed to glitter with maniacal surprise: evil objects which themselves seemed confused in their setting. I knew nothing either. I swear I didn’t.
I cleaned the house and came into the kitchen. The marble table is so beautiful; since I polished it, the marble stands out more. I really appreciate my home.
Marble-veined.. white and gray; it is the blurring of lines. You were lying, but is it possible that such a fault was a necessary thing? Your morals blur, my heart becomes encased.
Have you ever really thought about the steps and pillars carved from marble in the capitals and buildings around the world? What a symbol, what beauty, what a deep role to fill in the world and in the place of our hearts and humanity.
Have you ever really thought about the steps and pillars carved from marble in the capitals and buildings around the world. What a symbol, what beauty, what a role to fill in the world.
Oh how I remember marbles. Just recently the grandsons were here and wanted to play with the marbles. What a mistake! I still am finding them in every corner. Then there is the chocolate mint candy that my niece made for Thanksgiving. Yummy and so pretty to look at.
Es war eine samtrote Farbe. Das ganze Haus war damit ausgekleidet. Weicher, warmer Stoff, der in runden Falten von der Decke bis zum Boden reichte, der jedes Geräusch sanft machte und für vollkommene Heilung aller Wunden sorgte.
floor length glory black with just the right amount of shine heels that could kill lips that needed to be kissed a bare hand looking to be held and that would hopefully not be bare for not much longer she looked up eyes ablaze with excitement and she took her first step down the marble staircase into the night that would soon become the start of the rest of her life
marbles are cool. They’re all colorful and shit… you can play games with them. And they’re circular and round! BUt they get lost easily. In the movies, theyre used to trip the bad guys so they dont get away.
My grandmother always collected marbles….worlds within worlds. Striped ones, and cat eyes. There were jars and jars filled with them. One for every day she missed her childhood.
Marbles have entertained me since I was a child. The things inside of them are mysterious and you don’t know what they’re made out of. As a kid they bedazzle you, but as an adult you become careless has to how amazing they are. Growing up sucks in a way, you slowly begin to stop enjoying the things around you that you see. You soon stop seeing the world for what it really is. Marbles are one of the bewildering things we see as children.
Marbles are shiny little colourful things..sometimes they r blue other times they are green,,….even yellow sometimes….they are rock hard,….probs made out of marble…they hurt when dropped on ur foot.
I never understood the point of marbles. I liked that they were pretty and would pick out the ones I liked, but in the end they just took up room and got everywhere. Isn’t it funny that I feel like I do that with lots of things, even people sometimes. How judgmental does that make me?
marble to play with. i liked the colors and i still like them, though i don’t have a single marble in my house. the other day i found a bag of marble at a store for kids and i thought i should buy one, but didn’t. what memory does the bag evoke?
marble. countertop. thinking of marvel…could u marvel at marble? yep. marble. little glass balls. mancala. sisters. “clink clink clink clink” go the little balls.
I WIN
i love marble cakes, but not the game of marbles, they go everywhere and when you’re walking through the house you’ll stand on one and end up ass on the ground with a very sore foot.
marble and myriad chaser, in a black cadillac, in khakis, as though you’ve constructed your whole life around accommodating the assonance in sentences that will be written about you, like a blind chef to the kitchen, dependent on his confidence that he can feel the degrees of the fire in the oven, or stove, you don’t really know, because your mother microwaved frozen meals, but you think of this man, imaginary, presumably, and in passing thought, in times like these, when, in turning off the engine, forgetting, for a second, the confidence that you must carry always, the confidence that tomorrow night is gonna be a better one, less hookers and more hipsters at the bar you’ve paid to get up on the stage for an hour and showcase your many wondrous talents, the tips into your case as you wait outside the bar afterwards just enough to break even and a little more, keep a cat’s eye marble in your back pocket to help you sit up straight when you tire of this life.
Marble is a metamorphic rock composed from carbonate minerals but it sound like food to me!
a marble is just a rock i think is like any other rock! and im not interested in marbles at all! they seem boring welll i actually don’t like any kind of rocks cause they are not fun at all! they are just some rocks!
The marble table in the entry way was worn, and almost unnoticeable as she noticed the note that sat upon it. The note was written in a strange hand and seemed to be both cursive and block at the same time, who was it from? The opening line was ominous and menacing but also vexing, why now?
“You look damn good in marble,” the sculptor whispered in the bust’s ear. She stepped back, took in the whole bust once more, compared it to the dead body propped up on the chair beside it. She grabbed her hair, pulled the long ends of it above her head and danced like a Dervish. She sang loud and out of tune over and over, “You can no longer talk across me! I am now the smarter one! Oh hee hee heeeeee!”
I like marble and it looks good in the kitchen specially if all of the kitchen is white marble. It is pretty. before they used it a lot, now its expensive.
And it rolled and rolled and crashed along the way. Knocking things over and turning beauty to dismay. It embarked on a quest to be a savior some way. Ending so badly, no one could ever repay.
back and forth, an hourglass of life. I saw you and you saw me. Our distorted reflections showed our glee. We’ll be dead one day. But before that, we might remember this moment, how useless, and oh, how we could have been using that time more productively. But…that was the only time worth living for, the only time when living was actually possible. Remember and use those precious voices to find yourself.
marble is sexy, it has this shining to it its like white gold or pearls for short story!
she’s a marble if she seems bright
Clink, clink. The marble bounced into the circle and knocked another. It sparkled in the sun as it sat near the outer edge.
She slipped out of bed
It was still early and she was the last only one awake.
Her breath showed up as a thin fog in the air before her
and she felt the cold marble floors against her feet.
the world was still
and she sat in the middle of the cold.
The ocean was calm and quite. So dazzling and beautiful. Nothing out of the ordinary except for…marbles. Millions of them scattered about, I found them everywhere.
rolling marbles in the sand across the park while laughing with your group of friends. calling out points and who’s winning, who’s losing, it seems to be the best moment of your life.
I looked at the marble, I wasn’t sure if I should trade it. My Dad had given it to me, and told me that he had it as a boy, and so did his father. I knew it might not be a good idea to trade, but boy did I want the marble Tom had. So with this logic I made a decision that I would regret forever.
It rolled across the floor, reflecting tables, chairs, and all the glowing apparatus of the room in it’s incandescent surface. A tiny globe carrying a small city of sights on it, a wonder for the eye to behold, if only one was small enough to appreciate it’s glory. To bask in it’s magnificence.
I hate marble countertops and bathrooms. I think I hate the marble-covered bathrooms they most. They look like mausoleums to me. Ugh.
But to each his own, I guess.
Julie was sold on the marble counter tops in both the kitchen and bath room until she found out they were fake. Joe tried to explain to her that they were authentic but she knew he was lying and she sacrificed him there. Dead. Joe is dead.
slab. The ice cream there is so good. Wow I feel like a fatty right now. I see this and think of dessert.
I also think of a cool, hard surface. Maybe a bit shiny. It’s what they use to mix the ingredients in……(:
The halls whispered- ‘though still-unravished bride of quietness- with the curtains drawn back from the windows and the grounds outside, damp English weather.
Little more than veined torsos with sightless eyes and graceful shoulders, sexless from cheek to navel with their hair in curls, calcified.
I used to play with it as a child. It was fun but I never had many of them. Nice memories of being a child.
i just remember growing up and playing with marbles. usually clear, often a mix of the most beautiful shades of blue and green. rolling them about tabletops and floors. hearing the sound of them against the surface and of their collisions. i remember the excitement of fishing them out of those bottles of japanese soda and wanting it more than anything in the world, even though i had dozens easily accessible. reminders of math problems from childhood- probability, estimation, and arithmetic, of physics from high school- gravity, movement, friction.
A kind of cheese. Or a slab that makes some really delicious ice cream. Also, the kind of counter tops I want to have one day. Does that make me superficial?
Over the marble flooring laid an expanse of jewels. All around they seemed to glitter with maniacal surprise: evil objects which themselves seemed confused in their setting. I knew nothing either. I swear I didn’t.
Already did Marble…just want to se how my new registered profile shows up.
I cleaned the house and came into the kitchen. The marble table is so beautiful; since I polished it, the marble stands out more. I really appreciate my home.
Marble-veined.. white and gray; it is the blurring of lines. You were lying, but is it possible that such a fault was a necessary thing? Your morals blur, my heart becomes encased.
Have you ever really thought about the steps and pillars carved from marble in the capitals and buildings around the world? What a symbol, what beauty, what a deep role to fill in the world and in the place of our hearts and humanity.
Have you ever really thought about the steps and pillars carved from marble in the capitals and buildings around the world. What a symbol, what beauty, what a role to fill in the world.
Oh how I remember marbles. Just recently the grandsons were here and wanted to play with the marbles. What a mistake! I still am finding them in every corner. Then there is the chocolate mint candy that my niece made for Thanksgiving. Yummy and so pretty to look at.
Es war eine samtrote Farbe. Das ganze Haus war damit ausgekleidet. Weicher, warmer Stoff, der in runden Falten von der Decke bis zum Boden reichte, der jedes Geräusch sanft machte und für vollkommene Heilung aller Wunden sorgte.
floor length glory black with just the right amount of shine heels that could kill lips that needed to be kissed a bare hand looking to be held and that would hopefully not be bare for not much longer she looked up eyes ablaze with excitement and she took her first step down the marble staircase into the night that would soon become the start of the rest of her life
marbles are cool. They’re all colorful and shit… you can play games with them. And they’re circular and round! BUt they get lost easily. In the movies, theyre used to trip the bad guys so they dont get away.
My grandmother always collected marbles….worlds within worlds. Striped ones, and cat eyes. There were jars and jars filled with them. One for every day she missed her childhood.
Marbles have entertained me since I was a child. The things inside of them are mysterious and you don’t know what they’re made out of. As a kid they bedazzle you, but as an adult you become careless has to how amazing they are. Growing up sucks in a way, you slowly begin to stop enjoying the things around you that you see. You soon stop seeing the world for what it really is. Marbles are one of the bewildering things we see as children.
The marble slowly rolled down the hall until it finally came to rest just on the tip of the stair.
The words rolled around in my mouth as marbles, as I tried to get the words out.
aroungdadkiek. youurrrdaguurrlll…
Nope. There are just some things that I’ll never be able to say.
Marbles are shiny little colourful things..sometimes they r blue other times they are green,,….even yellow sometimes….they are rock hard,….probs made out of marble…they hurt when dropped on ur foot.