Marble is a construction material. It is also a sphere that kids play with — I played with marbles in my childhood — it was great fun, and a passing fad, like POGS. Many of the world’s oldest and most enduring structures are constructed from marble, e.g., the Taj Mahal.
That shiny stone thats kinda stripy. It has been used to symbolize wealth and antiquity. Smooth and polished, it was the prime material for columns and the like, and soda counters of the 1800’s. Also, and I hate to admit I know this, but it was how Bella described Edward’s skin.
I don’t understand why he carries it around. It’s so odd. The tiny marble sits in his pocket all the time. The vibrant blue and orange swirls hidden from the world behind dingy fabric.
The sphere danced around his fingers like a living thing, twirling in and out from finger to finger. Tavis watched, facinated as Zas played with the small green marble.
Marble Hornets. Slender Man. The Beast Within. My sins lying on a broken table, bleeding out while everyone stares and coughs awkwardly. I hate the choices I’ve made. How could I be so stupid?
the marble statue was white and stood proudly in the centre of the lonely hall. Gabriel looked at the masterpiece apraisingly and Raine huffed and fumed quietly in the corner as he disected her work with his eyes. he said something rude suddenly, his tone sharp and bitter, and she strode out of the room with a valkyrie’s brutal grace, her heels click-clacking against the linoleum, each percussive tap a separate goodbye.
This always reminds me of our class reading jar, statues and very expensive floors…
and, of course, the marbles that fill a jar until a young child scatters them all over the floor.
The marble figurine stood alone in the room. It’s size alone demanded attention and one could not help gaze in awe at the delicate, intricate details that adorned the massive carving.
Steve was the only person who’s eyes were not focused on this chiseled block though; his were everywhere but, trying to figure out how he was going to steal the ginormous 15T statue without getting caught… or crushed.
Marble cake reminds me of myself. Everything about me is in back and white. I imagine my life as a black and white movie. I love or hate everything, and if there’s any gray or unclarity, my life falls to pieces. That’s what you are to me. The gray of my life, blurring all of my edges, and ruining my marble cake. But you know what? Everything still tastes good blended together.
Some people say they passed the baton to their little sister or someone elseMy family (a strange family) likes to say pass the marble. No judgement. Were just a bunch of nuts.
One marble. Blue and Green with a swirl of white. It looks so familiar, doesn’t it? You spin it around and pop it off of those around it without even caring the effects. There’s a red one, sure. One that has rings. A small mis-shapen one. Others. You don’t care. It’s just a game.
Rolling, deeply, groves of a maze. the screech sings her to sleep. A forgotten melody, a song unsung, in the way the dove forgets its wings on the ark. A sound unheard, in a forest within imagination, a marble, a marble drops.
There was a marble that once sat on a table. All alone, this marble wondered if there were others like it. Green, crystal clear, with swirling sparkle effects, it felt as it looked. Green with envy, clarity of thought, and a sparkle for life.
She stepped through the doorway, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. Her white converses stood out from all the other feet on the marble floor. What was she doing here, she thought to herself. She shouldn’t have come. She realized now that it was a mistake but there was no turning back. Meredith slipped through the gaggle of girls to greet her. Meredith was wearing baby pink flats, much more delicate than her sneakers.
“Welcome, so glad you could make it, the meeting will start shortly.”
I walked into my new home. The marble floors looked so fun! No, cool it. You’re an adult, you’re the nanny. Sliding on a floor in socks is not professional. But maybe when it’s just me and the kids… No too much glass. Something would definitely be broken. Oh well, we can always move it!
the pristine colour of her skin was akin to marble, he noticed as they danced, her auburn hair flowing in smooth ringlets, revealing the back of her neck. she was a silent and deadly temptress, even if she herself did not even realize it.
The marble rolled around and around. I watched with mild interest. I picked it up and looked inside it. A swirl of fiery orange. Then I tossed it into the sky and watched the little orange orb disappear.
i dont know what marble is,
i think is something related to amazement or something like that.
i was very excited, thought this will help me write.
it didnt.
COLUMNS YOU GOTTA GET CHA SELF SUM MARBLE COLUMNS LOOK AT DIS ONE LOOK AT DAT ONE DEY MAKE U FANCY MARBLE COLUMNS COLUMNS MARBLE COLUMNS LOOK AT DEESE MARBLE COLUMS COLUMS COLLUMNS COLUMNS LOOK AT DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY THESE
marble stone. Giant slabs of it. Each piece perfectly cut and angled. Each piece the purest white. Pushed, Erected, built up. Each piece in the right place, each piece perfect and strong and it should last forever, and that was good. Because only the best would suffice for his tomb.
I can make words for myself,
I can shine and polish my own being,
For being’s sake,
For life’s sake,
Without cracks, or even with,
I can still function,
I am like a glass moon,
With glass eyes,
And a glass heart,
Only trying to look through all this light,
To find my own beam at the end of it,
But there is no light from the moon,
Nor from glass.
Once upon a time a young girl had a magic marble. This marble was blue and was able to change the weather without so much as a thought. The girl decided one day to test the true power of her marble, hoping she’d be able to figure out a way to reverse whatever damage was done.
i’ve lost my marbles. marbles oh my. children play with marbles. i love children. children are the best. i love them. dumb sexy kids. oh my. the best. fucking kids. why are kids so great. real estate. prime real estate. children. yeah. children. :)
If I had to choose, I’d choose a cascade, an avalanche, an eruption, but not this. The days pass. My expectations emulate the ASX. My optimism fluctuates like the Aussie dollar against the US Greenback. The waiting, sure but not knowing, could be utilised as a “coercive management technique” at Guantanamo Bay. I’m losing my mind one marble at a time.
I staggered into the bedroom, in the grip of a high fever. There, on the bed, his naked skin as pale as marble, lay a man who was not there… could not be there. His skin glowed with a pale fire, his black hair flowing over his back and part of the pillow. I climbed in next to him, delirious with fever and enjoying every minute of it.
They were called ‘steelies’. That was the name we gave to ball bearings which, in a fair game, could usually beat any glass marble but which, because of their effectiveness and rarity, were painful to lose.
Although not as painful as being hit in the eye with one thrown by a sore loser.
I hold it.
It makes the day last longer.
These are powerful words.
Don’t you think?
Losing your marbles is easier than you may imagine?
We can’t all be perfectly sane.
Though, if one of us is sane and another insane, who decides the line?
We are one collective consciousness.
Our thoughts are one.
So doesn’t that makes us all sane/insane?
Sometimes I sit and try to feel the energy billowing around me.
And sometimes I imagine I can.
Sometimes it’s so thick and creamy I can feel it spreading across my skin.
Other times I can’t.
And I find myself alone.
The marble of the countertop gleamed in the midday sun. On it lay a feast of bountiful harvest. It was the day in which we celebrate. Happy Thanksgiving!
Sitting at the beach gazing at the beautiful endless blue sea in front of me. I realized that there was something wrong with the perfect view. Instead of shells…there were marbles. Millions of them. Scattered everywhere.
i love marble cake, but no so much the actual game they’re messy and annoying and one minute you’ll be walking through the house, step on one and then fall over on your ass with a sore foot.
Marble is a construction material. It is also a sphere that kids play with — I played with marbles in my childhood — it was great fun, and a passing fad, like POGS. Many of the world’s oldest and most enduring structures are constructed from marble, e.g., the Taj Mahal.
That shiny stone thats kinda stripy. It has been used to symbolize wealth and antiquity. Smooth and polished, it was the prime material for columns and the like, and soda counters of the 1800’s. Also, and I hate to admit I know this, but it was how Bella described Edward’s skin.
black and white
swirled together
our souls
a marble of our lives
who we are
interconnected
in need you
as much as you need me
I don’t understand why he carries it around. It’s so odd. The tiny marble sits in his pocket all the time. The vibrant blue and orange swirls hidden from the world behind dingy fabric.
The sphere danced around his fingers like a living thing, twirling in and out from finger to finger. Tavis watched, facinated as Zas played with the small green marble.
Marble Hornets. Slender Man. The Beast Within. My sins lying on a broken table, bleeding out while everyone stares and coughs awkwardly. I hate the choices I’ve made. How could I be so stupid?
the marble statue was white and stood proudly in the centre of the lonely hall. Gabriel looked at the masterpiece apraisingly and Raine huffed and fumed quietly in the corner as he disected her work with his eyes. he said something rude suddenly, his tone sharp and bitter, and she strode out of the room with a valkyrie’s brutal grace, her heels click-clacking against the linoleum, each percussive tap a separate goodbye.
This always reminds me of our class reading jar, statues and very expensive floors…
and, of course, the marbles that fill a jar until a young child scatters them all over the floor.
she rolled the shiny, minuscule sphere in her hand.
the she kissed it ever so lightly,
“goodbye.”
The marble figurine stood alone in the room. It’s size alone demanded attention and one could not help gaze in awe at the delicate, intricate details that adorned the massive carving.
Steve was the only person who’s eyes were not focused on this chiseled block though; his were everywhere but, trying to figure out how he was going to steal the ginormous 15T statue without getting caught… or crushed.
Fists clench the fabric
of your oil stained t-shirt.
Slowly sliding
it over your head.
Bare chest exposed.
Skin burning to the touch,
abs, hard like marble.
Covered in tuffs of curls.
Your heart pounds,
entire body on alert.
Twitching. Electrified.
Amplified. Anxious.
Breath is heavy.
Waiting, hoping, begging,
for more.
subject to the whims of gravity. heavy, but energized, rolling from one place to the next. graceful in its dynamism, a never-ending dance.
did you ever drop them in paint and roll them over paper as a kid? spontaneous. evocative to witness.
Marble cake reminds me of myself. Everything about me is in back and white. I imagine my life as a black and white movie. I love or hate everything, and if there’s any gray or unclarity, my life falls to pieces. That’s what you are to me. The gray of my life, blurring all of my edges, and ruining my marble cake. But you know what? Everything still tastes good blended together.
We have made plans to learn and play a game of marbles.
Some people say they passed the baton to their little sister or someone elseMy family (a strange family) likes to say pass the marble. No judgement. Were just a bunch of nuts.
One marble. Blue and Green with a swirl of white. It looks so familiar, doesn’t it? You spin it around and pop it off of those around it without even caring the effects. There’s a red one, sure. One that has rings. A small mis-shapen one. Others. You don’t care. It’s just a game.
Rolling, deeply, groves of a maze. the screech sings her to sleep. A forgotten melody, a song unsung, in the way the dove forgets its wings on the ark. A sound unheard, in a forest within imagination, a marble, a marble drops.
There was a marble that once sat on a table. All alone, this marble wondered if there were others like it. Green, crystal clear, with swirling sparkle effects, it felt as it looked. Green with envy, clarity of thought, and a sparkle for life.
She stepped through the doorway, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. Her white converses stood out from all the other feet on the marble floor. What was she doing here, she thought to herself. She shouldn’t have come. She realized now that it was a mistake but there was no turning back. Meredith slipped through the gaggle of girls to greet her. Meredith was wearing baby pink flats, much more delicate than her sneakers.
“Welcome, so glad you could make it, the meeting will start shortly.”
I walked into my new home. The marble floors looked so fun! No, cool it. You’re an adult, you’re the nanny. Sliding on a floor in socks is not professional. But maybe when it’s just me and the kids… No too much glass. Something would definitely be broken. Oh well, we can always move it!
the pristine colour of her skin was akin to marble, he noticed as they danced, her auburn hair flowing in smooth ringlets, revealing the back of her neck. she was a silent and deadly temptress, even if she herself did not even realize it.
The marble rolled around and around. I watched with mild interest. I picked it up and looked inside it. A swirl of fiery orange. Then I tossed it into the sky and watched the little orange orb disappear.
i dont know what marble is,
i think is something related to amazement or something like that.
i was very excited, thought this will help me write.
it didnt.
COLUMNS YOU GOTTA GET CHA SELF SUM MARBLE COLUMNS LOOK AT DIS ONE LOOK AT DAT ONE DEY MAKE U FANCY MARBLE COLUMNS COLUMNS MARBLE COLUMNS LOOK AT DEESE MARBLE COLUMS COLUMS COLLUMNS COLUMNS LOOK AT DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY DEM BUY THESE
marble stone. Giant slabs of it. Each piece perfectly cut and angled. Each piece the purest white. Pushed, Erected, built up. Each piece in the right place, each piece perfect and strong and it should last forever, and that was good. Because only the best would suffice for his tomb.
marbles are small glass balls that you can play games with.
I can make words for myself,
I can shine and polish my own being,
For being’s sake,
For life’s sake,
Without cracks, or even with,
I can still function,
I am like a glass moon,
With glass eyes,
And a glass heart,
Only trying to look through all this light,
To find my own beam at the end of it,
But there is no light from the moon,
Nor from glass.
marble is beautiful in homes , offices and apartments. it is beautiful if we cut it beautifully.
Once upon a time a young girl had a magic marble. This marble was blue and was able to change the weather without so much as a thought. The girl decided one day to test the true power of her marble, hoping she’d be able to figure out a way to reverse whatever damage was done.
marble. tough one.
I hope I never lose my marbles.
Marble is like the ying-yang of the earth, a little dark and a little light.
i’ve lost my marbles. marbles oh my. children play with marbles. i love children. children are the best. i love them. dumb sexy kids. oh my. the best. fucking kids. why are kids so great. real estate. prime real estate. children. yeah. children. :)
If I had to choose, I’d choose a cascade, an avalanche, an eruption, but not this. The days pass. My expectations emulate the ASX. My optimism fluctuates like the Aussie dollar against the US Greenback. The waiting, sure but not knowing, could be utilised as a “coercive management technique” at Guantanamo Bay. I’m losing my mind one marble at a time.
I staggered into the bedroom, in the grip of a high fever. There, on the bed, his naked skin as pale as marble, lay a man who was not there… could not be there. His skin glowed with a pale fire, his black hair flowing over his back and part of the pillow. I climbed in next to him, delirious with fever and enjoying every minute of it.
They were called ‘steelies’. That was the name we gave to ball bearings which, in a fair game, could usually beat any glass marble but which, because of their effectiveness and rarity, were painful to lose.
Although not as painful as being hit in the eye with one thrown by a sore loser.
I hold it.
It makes the day last longer.
These are powerful words.
Don’t you think?
Losing your marbles is easier than you may imagine?
We can’t all be perfectly sane.
Though, if one of us is sane and another insane, who decides the line?
We are one collective consciousness.
Our thoughts are one.
So doesn’t that makes us all sane/insane?
Sometimes I sit and try to feel the energy billowing around me.
And sometimes I imagine I can.
Sometimes it’s so thick and creamy I can feel it spreading across my skin.
Other times I can’t.
And I find myself alone.
The marble of the countertop gleamed in the midday sun. On it lay a feast of bountiful harvest. It was the day in which we celebrate. Happy Thanksgiving!
Sitting at the beach gazing at the beautiful endless blue sea in front of me. I realized that there was something wrong with the perfect view. Instead of shells…there were marbles. Millions of them. Scattered everywhere.
All the marbles are eyes. They’re everywhere, watching you. Sometimes you look right into their eyes. Green eyes, Beady eyes, Glass eyed.
cold. hard. smooth. found outside. shaped by man to end up inside. kitchens. bathrooms. formal. imposing. no expense spared.
i love marble cake, but no so much the actual game they’re messy and annoying and one minute you’ll be walking through the house, step on one and then fall over on your ass with a sore foot.