This was probably the most exciting moment in my childhood. The biggest match of my life. With utter preciseness I threw the marble down the path. Please, come in. I felt like I was going to burst of emotions. It was going towards the hole and… it went past it. My world collapsed instantly. As I felt a rush of tears climbing up my throat I ran away from that damned place once and forever.
His face was as marble – unmoving, stern, fixed on her with no trace of emotion. She had believed up till now that he had a more humane side, but all those hopes had been dashed to the ground.
the swirling patterns inside each glass
are memories that i don’t often think of
but sometimes a flash of colour darts across my mind and out again
like marbles in a long forgotten child’s game
The house was just majestic indeed, from the bedrooms to the kitchen, the floors were covered in marble tiles. what a sight to behold. Wish that it was mine.
He had spent seventy-five years working at it, chiselling the bits form the block that, as they said, didn’t look like David. Not quite the same, but the same idea. And it was finally complete. But for a small nodule on the corner that would need…ahh…there we go, all off. Smoothed as finely as a mirror.
The marble gleamed white, and, tired from the effort of the years, and inhaling the calcareous dust, he examined the headstone from a few steps further away.
On it, his own name was inscribed in the most delicate, flowering letters, each one contrasted in more depth as his age, and his eyes, became unable to distinguish the detail. And now he was too tired to continue, but it looked as perfect as he felt it could be. He would not want to change another thing of it.
With some effort, the last few ounces of strength he had in his venerable years, he lifted the great slab up against the oak tree nearby, and rested it against the trunk. And quietly, he lay down beside it, on this bright, sun-filled day, and in the dappled shade of the swaying branches, he died.
Marble is all over your bathroom, and on your floors… even though you claim your house is a piece of shit, you have marble EVERYWHERE. I feel like thats just you being negative as always, you dont seem to see whats great thats right in front of you, just like that marble in your house,,,, and just like you dont see it in me
I felt the cold marble against my bare feet and for a moment… just one moment, I felt myself fall back through the ages to marble halls of my imagination, and I still heard your song.
i remember when we were kids all my class guys used to play marbles all the time… there’d like a million holes in the ground that we keep stepping into.. always at the risk of getting a sprain lol
Marble cake. Marble staircase. Marble countertops. Marble rocks.
I like how I thought of cake first.
I should be writing an essay right now.
Crap.
I need some cake.
remember the crooked marble in my first house, where i had dropped a glassball? it was exactly where we could see the colors of the rainbow created by the glass table on sunday mornings.
Between my fingers, around my hand, down the slope, under the table, out the door, over the bridge, into the meadow, headed for you. My marble rolls on and on, waiting to deliver a special message.
a cracked space i made in your mouth, so many drugs resting in your spit, the corners of your lips turned down or up according to the weather, the look in your eyes when i wake up to you and i’m choking on words because i love you.
Blood was strewn across the marble table.
“What have you done!?”
*What have we done, you mean.*
“Get out of my head!”
*We are one. I can leave just like you can just choose to die. We are one.*
“Why do you keep making me do this?!” I curled up on the ground looking at the blood drip off the edge of the table from the dead man’s skull.
*I’ve made you do nothing, it’s what you wanted. I just released your constraints.*
The sad thing was, this is what I wanted and I couldn’t help but feel my lips curl into a smile.
The Senators ambled onward down the marble hallways. “Mayhap we shall tax more of the Roman gentry?” asked Geldus Dorkus,
“Nay, ” responded Anos Poopimus.
“Shall we increase tax the Roman holy men?” asked Dorkus.
“Hellz nay,” responded Poopimus.
They paused by a Corinthian column and stared at each other for a long moment. Then, in unison, they both said, “Fuck the poor!” They high fived and laughed all the way to the Forum.
There is a statue on the way to my school. I don’t know who it is of or what they did, but I know one day, I want to be in marble. I want someone to take the time to carve me out of stone. To think that whatever I did was worth carving into stone.
“Marble cake,” she stated with a glassy tint to her eyes.
“Why are you crying? It’s just cake,” said her companion.
“They’re just tears, it’s not a promise,” said the girl, tears still streaking over the spinning cake display.
Rejoice! Rejoice! The days of being locked in that marble cage are gone! No more icy floors and horrid halls. Nothing but sunshine and freedom here. You can do what you want, wear want you want, and say what you will. No one will stop you, my dear. You are free, free, free, free. Go now. Enjoy it.
I thought I might want to force myself to cry. I didn’t understand why there wasn’t more of something swelling up inside me, bloating wonderful and warm. If I could cry I’d smear my tears on the frieze, all across it, run to the very end while dragging my tear-damp hands across the white surface.
here is a marble, for when you think you’ve lost all of yours.
i could sure use one;
i’ve lost them all from thinking about you.
you came in and borrowed them and now you won’t give them back.
that’s ok;
i hope you’re doing well.
She hit the marble tiles as he hit her once again. She winced as the blood began to drip down her face in small, red tears. “This is how you treat a woman” Said the father to the son. The son, so young, but so old, cocked back his arm and punched the father, just below his eye. As the mother looked in shock at her son, and her unconscious husband, the son said “He needed some time to think.” He helped up his mother and starting preparing for a long trip away.
small round little thing.
i do like you.
with all the colors inside of you
i can still see through you
don’t pretend to be something you’re not
like farbles
no purpose
but you-you my small little round thing
you have a purpose
you bring happiness-to me
to others
to all.
how could anyone not be happy with you in their pocket?
magical small little round thing
silly small little round thing
i smile
I roll the marble around in my fingers, gazing at how it shines in the light. The little ball of silver glimmers, and I let it drop, landing with a clink, rolling down the hallway, and ending with a small clunk as it knocks against the wall, its journey ended.
She swept her hand slowly across the smooth white marble. Its cold surface shocked her for a moment, sending her back. But its secrets brought her back. She once again stepped forward, and gave it another gentle touch.
She stared at the counter top, not willing to face him, not ready to say anything, to admit what she’d done. She could feel his eyes on her, though, and it was torturous. So she stood there, stock still like a statue, and waited. Waited. Just waited…for what? For him to speak? For time to stop? For what?
The marble floor was cooling to the skin. It gave a feeling of relief. The glass had fallen under the table, and it was visible only from the floor. The world looks entirely different from lower perspectives.
This one is dumb. Who would have anything good to say about marble? It’s just freakin’ marble. Not everything has to mean something. I just want to take the rest of my minute to document a good Brian quote. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, it can just be a good song!” <3
The marble sat on the floor. She couldn’t stop staring at it. It was a marvelous thing to behold. It had a turquoise aqua color with white swirls and purple swirls. Where had it come from? And what could it do? She wondered if she would ever know.
the marble was cold on her back, but it felt good compared to the heat from chads body above her. she felt like she was in a different place. there were no obligations, no worries, just her and him together at last. she had wanted it for so long, and now she was getting it. on the floor of her ex-boyfriends kitchen…
Marble? It’s a material made for floor, furniture, or wall? Marble cake. If you like. Lovely. It can be used as mirror. Reflect your face on the ground.
Marble makes statues gleam in the sunlight. i can see a horse in the chunk of marble in front of me, I need to release it from its chunky prison. let the horse dance in the sun.
Joanie is the best marble player I know. I wanted marble kitchen countertops but was talked out of it by well- meaning friends. I settled with a quartz composite which looks a lot like marble. Funny how many people think it’s real.
Hi, wanna see my marbels?
Yellow, green, blue, black, green.
Oh did i say green?
All the collors of the rainbow.
This was probably the most exciting moment in my childhood. The biggest match of my life. With utter preciseness I threw the marble down the path. Please, come in. I felt like I was going to burst of emotions. It was going towards the hole and… it went past it. My world collapsed instantly. As I felt a rush of tears climbing up my throat I ran away from that damned place once and forever.
His face was as marble – unmoving, stern, fixed on her with no trace of emotion. She had believed up till now that he had a more humane side, but all those hopes had been dashed to the ground.
the swirling patterns inside each glass
are memories that i don’t often think of
but sometimes a flash of colour darts across my mind and out again
like marbles in a long forgotten child’s game
The house was just majestic indeed, from the bedrooms to the kitchen, the floors were covered in marble tiles. what a sight to behold. Wish that it was mine.
He had spent seventy-five years working at it, chiselling the bits form the block that, as they said, didn’t look like David. Not quite the same, but the same idea. And it was finally complete. But for a small nodule on the corner that would need…ahh…there we go, all off. Smoothed as finely as a mirror.
The marble gleamed white, and, tired from the effort of the years, and inhaling the calcareous dust, he examined the headstone from a few steps further away.
On it, his own name was inscribed in the most delicate, flowering letters, each one contrasted in more depth as his age, and his eyes, became unable to distinguish the detail. And now he was too tired to continue, but it looked as perfect as he felt it could be. He would not want to change another thing of it.
With some effort, the last few ounces of strength he had in his venerable years, he lifted the great slab up against the oak tree nearby, and rested it against the trunk. And quietly, he lay down beside it, on this bright, sun-filled day, and in the dappled shade of the swaying branches, he died.
Marble is all over your bathroom, and on your floors… even though you claim your house is a piece of shit, you have marble EVERYWHERE. I feel like thats just you being negative as always, you dont seem to see whats great thats right in front of you, just like that marble in your house,,,, and just like you dont see it in me
I felt the cold marble against my bare feet and for a moment… just one moment, I felt myself fall back through the ages to marble halls of my imagination, and I still heard your song.
i remember when we were kids all my class guys used to play marbles all the time… there’d like a million holes in the ground that we keep stepping into.. always at the risk of getting a sprain lol
The marble lobby was incredible! Very much taking one back to a bygone era, where luxury was a real thing, and quality made a difference.
Cool and smooth, makes me think of sliding around on counter tops.
Marble cake. Marble staircase. Marble countertops. Marble rocks.
I like how I thought of cake first.
I should be writing an essay right now.
Crap.
I need some cake.
My eyes opened and I looked around the room. The marble floor was covered in clothes. A testiment to the acts of the night before.
remember the crooked marble in my first house, where i had dropped a glassball? it was exactly where we could see the colors of the rainbow created by the glass table on sunday mornings.
Between my fingers, around my hand, down the slope, under the table, out the door, over the bridge, into the meadow, headed for you. My marble rolls on and on, waiting to deliver a special message.
a cracked space i made in your mouth, so many drugs resting in your spit, the corners of your lips turned down or up according to the weather, the look in your eyes when i wake up to you and i’m choking on words because i love you.
Blood was strewn across the marble table.
“What have you done!?”
*What have we done, you mean.*
“Get out of my head!”
*We are one. I can leave just like you can just choose to die. We are one.*
“Why do you keep making me do this?!” I curled up on the ground looking at the blood drip off the edge of the table from the dead man’s skull.
*I’ve made you do nothing, it’s what you wanted. I just released your constraints.*
The sad thing was, this is what I wanted and I couldn’t help but feel my lips curl into a smile.
The Senators ambled onward down the marble hallways. “Mayhap we shall tax more of the Roman gentry?” asked Geldus Dorkus,
“Nay, ” responded Anos Poopimus.
“Shall we increase tax the Roman holy men?” asked Dorkus.
“Hellz nay,” responded Poopimus.
They paused by a Corinthian column and stared at each other for a long moment. Then, in unison, they both said, “Fuck the poor!” They high fived and laughed all the way to the Forum.
There is a statue on the way to my school. I don’t know who it is of or what they did, but I know one day, I want to be in marble. I want someone to take the time to carve me out of stone. To think that whatever I did was worth carving into stone.
“Marble cake,” she stated with a glassy tint to her eyes.
“Why are you crying? It’s just cake,” said her companion.
“They’re just tears, it’s not a promise,” said the girl, tears still streaking over the spinning cake display.
Rejoice! Rejoice! The days of being locked in that marble cage are gone! No more icy floors and horrid halls. Nothing but sunshine and freedom here. You can do what you want, wear want you want, and say what you will. No one will stop you, my dear. You are free, free, free, free. Go now. Enjoy it.
A marble is in the eye of the beholder. To some, it’s a marble.
I thought I might want to force myself to cry. I didn’t understand why there wasn’t more of something swelling up inside me, bloating wonderful and warm. If I could cry I’d smear my tears on the frieze, all across it, run to the very end while dragging my tear-damp hands across the white surface.
here is a marble, for when you think you’ve lost all of yours.
i could sure use one;
i’ve lost them all from thinking about you.
you came in and borrowed them and now you won’t give them back.
that’s ok;
i hope you’re doing well.
She hit the marble tiles as he hit her once again. She winced as the blood began to drip down her face in small, red tears. “This is how you treat a woman” Said the father to the son. The son, so young, but so old, cocked back his arm and punched the father, just below his eye. As the mother looked in shock at her son, and her unconscious husband, the son said “He needed some time to think.” He helped up his mother and starting preparing for a long trip away.
small round little thing.
i do like you.
with all the colors inside of you
i can still see through you
don’t pretend to be something you’re not
like farbles
no purpose
but you-you my small little round thing
you have a purpose
you bring happiness-to me
to others
to all.
how could anyone not be happy with you in their pocket?
magical small little round thing
silly small little round thing
i smile
I roll the marble around in my fingers, gazing at how it shines in the light. The little ball of silver glimmers, and I let it drop, landing with a clink, rolling down the hallway, and ending with a small clunk as it knocks against the wall, its journey ended.
She swept her hand slowly across the smooth white marble. Its cold surface shocked her for a moment, sending her back. But its secrets brought her back. She once again stepped forward, and gave it another gentle touch.
It is white and smooth. It is soft to the touch. Marble is like limestone. It is cool. Marbles are a different story. They are round.
She stared at the counter top, not willing to face him, not ready to say anything, to admit what she’d done. She could feel his eyes on her, though, and it was torturous. So she stood there, stock still like a statue, and waited. Waited. Just waited…for what? For him to speak? For time to stop? For what?
The marble floor was cooling to the skin. It gave a feeling of relief. The glass had fallen under the table, and it was visible only from the floor. The world looks entirely different from lower perspectives.
This one is dumb. Who would have anything good to say about marble? It’s just freakin’ marble. Not everything has to mean something. I just want to take the rest of my minute to document a good Brian quote. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, it can just be a good song!” <3
i don’t like marble. never have. i find it rather pretentious. it reminds me of people i know; condescending, proud people. it has a falsity to it.
Someday, I want my own statue made of marble. That would be cool! :D
The marble sat on the floor. She couldn’t stop staring at it. It was a marvelous thing to behold. It had a turquoise aqua color with white swirls and purple swirls. Where had it come from? And what could it do? She wondered if she would ever know.
the marble was cold on her back, but it felt good compared to the heat from chads body above her. she felt like she was in a different place. there were no obligations, no worries, just her and him together at last. she had wanted it for so long, and now she was getting it. on the floor of her ex-boyfriends kitchen…
Marble? It’s a material made for floor, furniture, or wall? Marble cake. If you like. Lovely. It can be used as mirror. Reflect your face on the ground.
Marble makes statues gleam in the sunlight. i can see a horse in the chunk of marble in front of me, I need to release it from its chunky prison. let the horse dance in the sun.
a marble rolling, round and round. spins until it hits the ground. off the table, with a plink. forces pushing it off the brink.
Joanie is the best marble player I know. I wanted marble kitchen countertops but was talked out of it by well- meaning friends. I settled with a quartz composite which looks a lot like marble. Funny how many people think it’s real.