im over the head. like a overhead bird or airplanes. Maybe some odd looking pretty clouds. I like it if I see more of exotic bired flying by. Maybe I would like to see superheros up there.
The overhead of this product was insane. I had to pay so much and get so little in return. I thought for sure that I would be out of house and home, I couldn’t pay my bills, or even afford food. But it all worked out. The overhead was worth it.
over my head my thoughts seem to hover not making much sense even to me where do I go from here what am I supposed to do or feel or think I just feel so lost and misdirected like all the world has turned upside down
Go overhead the overhead and tell me what you get
A fuzzy mess of black and blood and a funny kind of hiss
Don’t try to stop me doing it, I like it just too much
I tempt the viper with my mind and lean in for a kiss
Overhead the helipcoptor thundered to life and began its dangerous decent towards the cliffs. Fire protruded from the rear and threatened the pilots vision
overhead, two thousand feet above the desert, the turkey vultures swirled around and around the rim of a thermal. like a toilet flushing, their swirling spiraled down and down, the revolutions growing tighter and faster toward the black hole of last breaths.
I was submurged in water. It was all around me. I couldn’t breathe, I could hardly think. I was panicking in the deep grey liquid I was trying to escape. Overhead there was light and I knew there was air up there but I just couldn’t reach it with the terrifying force beating me farther down.
My nuts so floatin like that b-ball cloud up overhead like a smile and took all that I was and made it go for all the world like a pie in the sky. What a trip. Had you been there you may have remarked on the impurity of my nuts but, like a monastery, you would have been found lacking.
The overhead passage was far to high. How would we ever get up there? i guess we’ll need more people to help boost us up. I bet Emily isn’t doing anything today…
the garage door was stuck sky wind lotsa moquitos overhill overdell over the edge love the depth of the color mountains up high snow covered with scant trees very tall spruce and wonderful birds eag
Projecters that are in class rooms like my old art room which had the teacher I couldn’t stand yet respected because she tried. It reminds me of going to the overhead in first grade, scared shitless because I had to write on the thing infront of everyone and there was a chance of getting it wrong. It reminds me of being in math class, blind as a bat.
I’m thinking of an RV.
Something that hangs above you in some sort of space. And time.
Used on a projector. Used by teachers.
Overpass? Hangs overhead.
Haiku?
It’s hard to write with the Blue Angels roaring overhead. It happens for 4 days every August, and has for the 17 years I’ve lived in Seattle. I don’t think I will ever get used to it, nor will the eagles and other wildlife that live in Seward Park.
Overhead of me is the ceiling. And sometimes I feel trapped in this place. I wish I could be under bright blue London skies again. Exploring my favorite city in the world with new friends and fresh faces everyday. I want to go back
The overhead bin compartment on the 747 was crammed tight with things belonging to the other passengers. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get my bag to fit. I was frustrated. Suddenly I saw a hand, a man’s hand, reach up and take his bag out so that mine would fit. He was my seatmate for the flight and that was just one of the many wonderful things he would say and do in the next 6 hours.
I overheard you one night, overhead the moon was fondling the stars. Your voice was thick with emotion that our language refuses to acknowledge, you spoke to the stillness of the night, naming it God and asked for forgiveness for things you could not explain.
I feel as though there is a giant cloud over my head that when I look up it distracts me from the life that I should be living down here. OVERHEAD. I think about that word and then something comes over me like a hurricane that isn’t meant to destroy but rather to create a new opportunity in my world.
I overhead you one night, when the moon was fondling the stars. Your voice was thick with emotion that our language refuses to acknowledge, you spoke to the stillness of the night, naming it God and asked for forgiveness for things you could not explain.
I couldn’t see the thing overhead but I wanted to grab the overhang and check it out. I was afraid to fall afraid to see what could be up there, but my curiosity was burning in my mind, and I just couldn’t stop myself. Hoisting myself onto the roof, I took a look over the shingles, and gasped.
I used to live a few hours from the airport in Detroit, and it was a big deal to me at 5 years old, that one would fly overhead. We then moved to Minnesota, and lived right near the airport, and I suddenly lost interest. insignificant, but it did stick out to me. I tasted the whole “it’s not fun once it’s to familiar” thing.
The overhead was too great like always, like usual, he thought with the highball glass in hand. Too much money wasted, like everything else, like all he’d ever known, a life of extravagance and unnecessarity. Spoiled, really, on the backs of the less fortunate, because God Bless America.
Overhead in the dark of the night, something swooped through the cool, crisp, summer air. A bat, blind in the night but making up for it by superior hearing glides effortlessly into the shadows again.
a thousand birds flying overhead. running from something we can’t see. their instincts tell them where to go, maybe we have the same insight, but we refuse to listen. so we’re stuck in the bitter cold while the birds are where they should be.
In the school there are the empty overheads where the dim light hums. I can’t say that I’ll miss that but part of me will. It’s as if the 13 years of school has ended for good and now new buzzing overheads will project my future. I’m nervous at best.
over our heads, over our thoughts, Jesus is the one who carries our faults.The pain,and the sorrow, our joys and our smiles. I can tell him one thing, I love Him. I love HIm. He makes me new, he makes me whole. He is the one the only God. He holds my soul, and my life after. Im heaven bound, to an eternity He let me capture.
your answers fly overhead.
i don’t understand you anymore.
maybe we’ve grown apart.
maybe we’re no longer on same frequencies.
maybe it’s time to leave.
I practically pay half his rent and he can’t even change a goddamn light bulb. I think I am going to tell him we can’t be roomies anymore. Not compatible. Dark clouds loom overhead, aha. Love it.
but there’s the expense
of time as much as
i want it gone every
tick is a dollar bill
i’ve lost by not gaining
can this work?
money, you’ve never
been my friend
but hang out for a while
take me where
i need to go
crossroads at cyborg street
utopian society
enterwined
im over the head. like a overhead bird or airplanes. Maybe some odd looking pretty clouds. I like it if I see more of exotic bired flying by. Maybe I would like to see superheros up there.
The overhead of this product was insane. I had to pay so much and get so little in return. I thought for sure that I would be out of house and home, I couldn’t pay my bills, or even afford food. But it all worked out. The overhead was worth it.
over my head my thoughts seem to hover not making much sense even to me where do I go from here what am I supposed to do or feel or think I just feel so lost and misdirected like all the world has turned upside down
Go overhead the overhead and tell me what you get
A fuzzy mess of black and blood and a funny kind of hiss
Don’t try to stop me doing it, I like it just too much
I tempt the viper with my mind and lean in for a kiss
Overhead the helipcoptor thundered to life and began its dangerous decent towards the cliffs. Fire protruded from the rear and threatened the pilots vision
overhead, two thousand feet above the desert, the turkey vultures swirled around and around the rim of a thermal. like a toilet flushing, their swirling spiraled down and down, the revolutions growing tighter and faster toward the black hole of last breaths.
HELLO WORD I HAVE SOME THINGS MAYBE TO DO IN A FEW HOURS, BUT NOW I’M CHEKING THIS PAGE, I HOPE IT WILL BE INCREDIBLE, SO AMAZING.
I was submurged in water. It was all around me. I couldn’t breathe, I could hardly think. I was panicking in the deep grey liquid I was trying to escape. Overhead there was light and I knew there was air up there but I just couldn’t reach it with the terrifying force beating me farther down.
My nuts so floatin like that b-ball cloud up overhead like a smile and took all that I was and made it go for all the world like a pie in the sky. What a trip. Had you been there you may have remarked on the impurity of my nuts but, like a monastery, you would have been found lacking.
The overhead passage was far to high. How would we ever get up there? i guess we’ll need more people to help boost us up. I bet Emily isn’t doing anything today…
the garage door was stuck sky wind lotsa moquitos overhill overdell over the edge love the depth of the color mountains up high snow covered with scant trees very tall spruce and wonderful birds eag
Projecters that are in class rooms like my old art room which had the teacher I couldn’t stand yet respected because she tried. It reminds me of going to the overhead in first grade, scared shitless because I had to write on the thing infront of everyone and there was a chance of getting it wrong. It reminds me of being in math class, blind as a bat.
I’m thinking of an RV.
Something that hangs above you in some sort of space. And time.
Used on a projector. Used by teachers.
Overpass? Hangs overhead.
Haiku?
It’s hard to write with the Blue Angels roaring overhead. It happens for 4 days every August, and has for the 17 years I’ve lived in Seattle. I don’t think I will ever get used to it, nor will the eagles and other wildlife that live in Seward Park.
Overhead of me is the ceiling. And sometimes I feel trapped in this place. I wish I could be under bright blue London skies again. Exploring my favorite city in the world with new friends and fresh faces everyday. I want to go back
The overhead bin compartment on the 747 was crammed tight with things belonging to the other passengers. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get my bag to fit. I was frustrated. Suddenly I saw a hand, a man’s hand, reach up and take his bag out so that mine would fit. He was my seatmate for the flight and that was just one of the many wonderful things he would say and do in the next 6 hours.
overhead is important when starting a business. The business owner must have an idea of what costs will arise before this venture.
I overheard you one night, overhead the moon was fondling the stars. Your voice was thick with emotion that our language refuses to acknowledge, you spoke to the stillness of the night, naming it God and asked for forgiveness for things you could not explain.
overhead…light houses shine into the sea
I feel as though there is a giant cloud over my head that when I look up it distracts me from the life that I should be living down here. OVERHEAD. I think about that word and then something comes over me like a hurricane that isn’t meant to destroy but rather to create a new opportunity in my world.
I overhead you one night, when the moon was fondling the stars. Your voice was thick with emotion that our language refuses to acknowledge, you spoke to the stillness of the night, naming it God and asked for forgiveness for things you could not explain.
I couldn’t see the thing overhead but I wanted to grab the overhang and check it out. I was afraid to fall afraid to see what could be up there, but my curiosity was burning in my mind, and I just couldn’t stop myself. Hoisting myself onto the roof, I took a look over the shingles, and gasped.
I used to live a few hours from the airport in Detroit, and it was a big deal to me at 5 years old, that one would fly overhead. We then moved to Minnesota, and lived right near the airport, and I suddenly lost interest. insignificant, but it did stick out to me. I tasted the whole “it’s not fun once it’s to familiar” thing.
The overhead was too great like always, like usual, he thought with the highball glass in hand. Too much money wasted, like everything else, like all he’d ever known, a life of extravagance and unnecessarity. Spoiled, really, on the backs of the less fortunate, because God Bless America.
Overhead in the dark of the night, something swooped through the cool, crisp, summer air. A bat, blind in the night but making up for it by superior hearing glides effortlessly into the shadows again.
a thousand birds flying overhead. running from something we can’t see. their instincts tell them where to go, maybe we have the same insight, but we refuse to listen. so we’re stuck in the bitter cold while the birds are where they should be.
garage doors suck. they’re deadly! with no warning they come flying down & crush feet & hands & heads even. garage doors should be outlawed.
n man 2iron man 2iron man 2iron man 2iron man 2iron man 2
it’s a cost. It’s what you look up at. It’s like overheard but not heard correctly. It’s what they used to call a projector.
Did it go over your head or is it overhead?
In the school there are the empty overheads where the dim light hums. I can’t say that I’ll miss that but part of me will. It’s as if the 13 years of school has ended for good and now new buzzing overheads will project my future. I’m nervous at best.
over our heads, over our thoughts, Jesus is the one who carries our faults.The pain,and the sorrow, our joys and our smiles. I can tell him one thing, I love Him. I love HIm. He makes me new, he makes me whole. He is the one the only God. He holds my soul, and my life after. Im heaven bound, to an eternity He let me capture.
the overhead projector shone a bright light on the wall of the classroom, illuminating the now faded posters that had hung there for years.
your answers fly overhead.
i don’t understand you anymore.
maybe we’ve grown apart.
maybe we’re no longer on same frequencies.
maybe it’s time to leave.
The sky. Beauty. Sunlight, clouds and blue. Blue. Sky. Flying above me. Swooping down. Bird tear through the air, cutting the warmth above me. Flying. Freedom. Overhead restraints? No. All gone. Freedom.
overhead there is nothing
they say god lives there
i haven’t heard him speaking the way
my mother does
It hovers overhead. What is it? I don’t know. The line shines down on me and suddenly I realize, I’m no longer here.
I practically pay half his rent and he can’t even change a goddamn light bulb. I think I am going to tell him we can’t be roomies anymore. Not compatible. Dark clouds loom overhead, aha. Love it.
Maybe I can find a cuter roommate.