I Walked Back and Forth in Front of the Open Doorway,
Listening For Giggles or Whispering.
I Stepped Inside Every Now and Then
To Make Sure That the Nightlight Stayed On,
The Television Stayed Off,
And the Closet Was Free of Monsters.
When I Was Certain They Were All Asleep,
I Walked Down the Hall
To My Room
And Fell Asleep
Satisfied.
The road patrol roster was lurking in the back of my mind. I knew it had to be done, but there were other, more pressing things I had to deal with. Thirty kids were waiting for me on the deck; I gathered the necessary bits of paper and set off.
It must be a boring job … walking around all day. No wonder people have low opinions of them! But then again, those who criticize should try patrolling … how tedious; walking around in circles all day, your weary eyes jumping at the sight of anything that even remotely seems like moving. Not to mention, it must get stuffy in whatever uniforms patrollers wear.
the dawn patrol left at dawn, with all the participants wondering why it was called the dawn patrol. Then it dawned on them. “Hey we are patrolling at dawn – I guess that is why it is called the dan patrol” exclaimed the leader
They went to check if everything was allright. The Stromkirk guys were taking a bit too much time on their patrol. They never heard before that any of the Stromkirk guards would not respect given orders, so the first thought they had, was that something bad had happened. They were so close to the truth. But as I reckon, ‘bad’ is word not good enough to explain what things took place.
Patroling usually is in regards to officers and state/national officials. By patrolling, you keep others safe and are aware of problems that could arise. To patrol you are aware of what is around you and are making sure you’re out of harms way.
I would like to patrol my neighborhood and catch some thieves and kick them out. Boy I would love that. I’m sick of living in cages while they run wild free.
Patrol makes me think “to watch” which sends my mind on a swirling journey to the big brother theory which makes me kind of despise the plethora of electronics around me. Who’s watching you? Who do you care is watching you? Its interesting…to ponder…to worry…but most of all to accept.
The patrol car didn’t have its lights on. It felt invisible to the passing cars. A hunter stalking its prey, eyeing it from a distance without being detected. It waited patiently for a speeder to pounce on.
Stella and I met in college during the hey-day of big hair and ‘torn’ acid-wash jeans and black jelly bracelets. I called it Hell. We kept our distance at first. Like Exene and Siouxsie turning up at CBGB and finding out that Iggy had canceled and Madonna was set to play instead. Two out-of-place freaks at the same debutante ball. Y’know? It wasn’t until I heard that she actually owned a boot-leg of Rat Patrol From Fort Bragg that I spoke a word to Stella. The rest is history.
Back and forth Thomas walked, sweat dripped from his brown onto his dark, grungy uniform. He knew in the back of his mind that it would happen. They would come and attack. And, when the did, they would take her and he would never see her again. All he could do was continue his patrol and wait to try his feeble attempt at stopping them from taking his love.
State patrol troopers surrounded the car after it stopped its high speed chase over country roads. The car had hit a soft spots in the road and the driver lost control. The car shot over the east ditch and landed in a cornfield. The troopers had guns drawn and cautiously approached the vehicle.
Stay sharp, do not let your mind drift off. Do not become something to be watched. Be something ignored, for that is the when you can do the most work. Stay low, out of sight, and pay attention. Hopefully, you’ll catch what you normally couldn’t.
security patrols the mall parking lot. slowly circling. it’s 3am and their tired green lights flash like strobes in the deserted lot. they yawn and think again how much they hate their job. praying for some law breaking hoodlum to come by, just so they’d have something to look at.
patrol is a leading cause of war in the world. it’s the major source of income in many countries of the middle east and a valuable asset which the leading countries hope to control. it is a shame that the people has to pay for the greed of their leaders.
on patrol on the edge of the desert
soldiers watch
waiting and wondering
praying and hoping
longing for words from home
words of support
and love
and kindness
He stood there, marching up and down. It was one of the nights where he stood guard, taking shifts from his fellow mates. He wasn’t sure what to do if he saw anything or anyone. So all he did was kept watch. The night was silent. He could only hear his own heart beating.
Slipping silently into the bushes, I made a mental head count.
Okay, 2 guys in a tower. 4 on patrol.
I can do this.
I waited until all the patrol guards were out of sight when I zoomed towards the gate.
One of the guys in the tower spotted me and shouted out. They were going to turn the gate on. I had a one second gap until I was burned to a crisp. I grabbed the fence and climbed as fast as I could to the top and jumped over. Right as my foot left the fence I heard the electricity come alive. My hair stood on end.
Free.
There were lots of police men on the street. “Why are there so many of them, Mommy?” Asked Lisa. “I don’t know sweetie, they must be paroling the streets for bad guys.”
Once upon a time there was a patrol. He wasn’t just any patrol, he was a safety patrol. He was in the 3rd grade and it was his first day as a patrol. He was extremely excited to be able to be a pa
im on patrol, for a new outlet to let my heart set free.
three days ago it hit a brick wall
shot down like i was some clown stepping out of the trees
she came to me with a problem and a heart and i took it slow
then things went to far.
now again, im on patrol.
Click. Click. Click. Something was odd about the room. Click. Click. Something…eerie. Harriet Devonshire couldn’t quite put her bony finger on it. A cat mewled from the green leather chair in the far corner of the room, calling to her.
Patrol. I thought you said parol. That’s dissapointing. Patrol makes me think of Terry Pratchett and how he explains the guards pace when they’re on patrol. Swinging their feet like pendulums to give the best momentum without wearing them out.
The patrol started out just as any other day, but it certainly didn’t end that way. It began when the officers received an alert about a hostage situation in the lower area of the city, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods due to it’s alien occupants. The muffled wailing cries of the creatures which humans refer to as “outerworlders” reached the officers and a shudder of fear and loathing passed through the small group.
The army patrols the area around the encampment with diligence despite their boredom. They don’t know what to expect during the night; anything could be pout there. There are people behind every bush waiting to kill them, at least, that’s what they think. Little do they know that they just want to give the tired soldiers a good warm meal.
You’re a prison officer and she’s a prisoner and you can’t help but walk by her twice as often as you should.
Her eyes are dead, aren’t they? You look at them and you think of the things she’s done, the things they’ve thrown in here for. And you still want to sit beside her and wrap your arm around her shoulders and tell her it’s okay.
Because she’s haunted and you’re on patrol and it’s your job to keep people safe.
I was working outside when I heard the doorbell ring. The easiest way to get there was through the house. I ran as fast as I could, tripped over the ottonman. I get to the door and it is a kid telling me he is on patrol in neighborhood and he wanted me to know that everything was safe – he was on duty.
“Lacey you know im on my patrol tonight.” My father looked at me. “Cant you go out With Jessica or Charlotte or that boy your always taliking about to them, whats his name? Oliver? Hang out with him.” Yeah, if only, he’ll never love me, ever.
Perched high on the roof of the abandoned building, entwined in a half-naked post-coital coil, their heads turned in unison at the unmistakable noise. Approaching quickly were dozens of patrol cars: lights flashing, sirens wailing, tires squealing at each turn… There was no denying it. They were busted.
Last night I was out on patrol and found this huge dog blocking the entry way to the tea parlor. I couldn’t believe how big he was. I pushed him – he wouldn’t budge. I pulled on him, he just looked at me. Nothing I could do would move him.
The officer sighed as he looked up at the sign. His patrol three hours from ending, but the town was anything but populated. His wife at home with his crying baby, and all he could do is sit. The few people who did stop and see him only screaming at his as thief.
The gun trembled slightly in his hand, this was his first day in uniform on patrol. He was supposed to be sitting in the coffee shop eating donuts not in the middle of a face off with a gang punk and an AK pointed at his head.
act of walking and travelling around an area.eg. police used to patrol the area very frequently.the patrolling word is generally used in pretext of police walking around a locality for security and checking for non social elements
red white and blue flashes when you get a hit, otherwise you are going in circles, looking, sometimes looking too hard. trying to find a formidable or diabolical or just plain scum bag opponent.
I Walked Back and Forth in Front of the Open Doorway,
Listening For Giggles or Whispering.
I Stepped Inside Every Now and Then
To Make Sure That the Nightlight Stayed On,
The Television Stayed Off,
And the Closet Was Free of Monsters.
When I Was Certain They Were All Asleep,
I Walked Down the Hall
To My Room
And Fell Asleep
Satisfied.
My Siblings Were Fine.
The road patrol roster was lurking in the back of my mind. I knew it had to be done, but there were other, more pressing things I had to deal with. Thirty kids were waiting for me on the deck; I gathered the necessary bits of paper and set off.
They always talk about patrol.
It must be a boring job … walking around all day. No wonder people have low opinions of them! But then again, those who criticize should try patrolling … how tedious; walking around in circles all day, your weary eyes jumping at the sight of anything that even remotely seems like moving. Not to mention, it must get stuffy in whatever uniforms patrollers wear.
the dawn patrol left at dawn, with all the participants wondering why it was called the dawn patrol. Then it dawned on them. “Hey we are patrolling at dawn – I guess that is why it is called the dan patrol” exclaimed the leader
There was once a young man who worked at a ski resort in Colorado. Half his time he was drunk, that was how the accident happened.
They went to check if everything was allright. The Stromkirk guys were taking a bit too much time on their patrol. They never heard before that any of the Stromkirk guards would not respect given orders, so the first thought they had, was that something bad had happened. They were so close to the truth. But as I reckon, ‘bad’ is word not good enough to explain what things took place.
The policemen are on patrol. It is dark and the stars are out. So are the gangsters.
Patroling usually is in regards to officers and state/national officials. By patrolling, you keep others safe and are aware of problems that could arise. To patrol you are aware of what is around you and are making sure you’re out of harms way.
I would like to patrol my neighborhood and catch some thieves and kick them out. Boy I would love that. I’m sick of living in cages while they run wild free.
And so the patrol began. Hunting, searching, desperately for the path to the crescent fields. The path home.
Patrol makes me think “to watch” which sends my mind on a swirling journey to the big brother theory which makes me kind of despise the plethora of electronics around me. Who’s watching you? Who do you care is watching you? Its interesting…to ponder…to worry…but most of all to accept.
The patrol car didn’t have its lights on. It felt invisible to the passing cars. A hunter stalking its prey, eyeing it from a distance without being detected. It waited patiently for a speeder to pounce on.
Snow…
Police.
Follow’s the above, it’s a word that almost reminds me of parade which is odd. Hm. Intriguing.
POLEEEECE.
SNOW. Chasing Cars. <3
Stella and I met in college during the hey-day of big hair and ‘torn’ acid-wash jeans and black jelly bracelets. I called it Hell. We kept our distance at first. Like Exene and Siouxsie turning up at CBGB and finding out that Iggy had canceled and Madonna was set to play instead. Two out-of-place freaks at the same debutante ball. Y’know? It wasn’t until I heard that she actually owned a boot-leg of Rat Patrol From Fort Bragg that I spoke a word to Stella. The rest is history.
Back and forth Thomas walked, sweat dripped from his brown onto his dark, grungy uniform. He knew in the back of his mind that it would happen. They would come and attack. And, when the did, they would take her and he would never see her again. All he could do was continue his patrol and wait to try his feeble attempt at stopping them from taking his love.
State patrol troopers surrounded the car after it stopped its high speed chase over country roads. The car had hit a soft spots in the road and the driver lost control. The car shot over the east ditch and landed in a cornfield. The troopers had guns drawn and cautiously approached the vehicle.
Stay sharp, do not let your mind drift off. Do not become something to be watched. Be something ignored, for that is the when you can do the most work. Stay low, out of sight, and pay attention. Hopefully, you’ll catch what you normally couldn’t.
security patrols the mall parking lot. slowly circling. it’s 3am and their tired green lights flash like strobes in the deserted lot. they yawn and think again how much they hate their job. praying for some law breaking hoodlum to come by, just so they’d have something to look at.
patrol is a leading cause of war in the world. it’s the major source of income in many countries of the middle east and a valuable asset which the leading countries hope to control. it is a shame that the people has to pay for the greed of their leaders.
on patrol on the edge of the desert
soldiers watch
waiting and wondering
praying and hoping
longing for words from home
words of support
and love
and kindness
He stood there, marching up and down. It was one of the nights where he stood guard, taking shifts from his fellow mates. He wasn’t sure what to do if he saw anything or anyone. So all he did was kept watch. The night was silent. He could only hear his own heart beating.
Slipping silently into the bushes, I made a mental head count.
Okay, 2 guys in a tower. 4 on patrol.
I can do this.
I waited until all the patrol guards were out of sight when I zoomed towards the gate.
One of the guys in the tower spotted me and shouted out. They were going to turn the gate on. I had a one second gap until I was burned to a crisp. I grabbed the fence and climbed as fast as I could to the top and jumped over. Right as my foot left the fence I heard the electricity come alive. My hair stood on end.
Free.
There were lots of police men on the street. “Why are there so many of them, Mommy?” Asked Lisa. “I don’t know sweetie, they must be paroling the streets for bad guys.”
Once upon a time there was a patrol. He wasn’t just any patrol, he was a safety patrol. He was in the 3rd grade and it was his first day as a patrol. He was extremely excited to be able to be a pa
im on patrol, for a new outlet to let my heart set free.
three days ago it hit a brick wall
shot down like i was some clown stepping out of the trees
she came to me with a problem and a heart and i took it slow
then things went to far.
now again, im on patrol.
Click. Click. Click. Something was odd about the room. Click. Click. Something…eerie. Harriet Devonshire couldn’t quite put her bony finger on it. A cat mewled from the green leather chair in the far corner of the room, calling to her.
Patrol. I thought you said parol. That’s dissapointing. Patrol makes me think of Terry Pratchett and how he explains the guards pace when they’re on patrol. Swinging their feet like pendulums to give the best momentum without wearing them out.
The patrol started out just as any other day, but it certainly didn’t end that way. It began when the officers received an alert about a hostage situation in the lower area of the city, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods due to it’s alien occupants. The muffled wailing cries of the creatures which humans refer to as “outerworlders” reached the officers and a shudder of fear and loathing passed through the small group.
The patrol patted down patriots for patches of patsies.
The army patrols the area around the encampment with diligence despite their boredom. They don’t know what to expect during the night; anything could be pout there. There are people behind every bush waiting to kill them, at least, that’s what they think. Little do they know that they just want to give the tired soldiers a good warm meal.
You’re a prison officer and she’s a prisoner and you can’t help but walk by her twice as often as you should.
Her eyes are dead, aren’t they? You look at them and you think of the things she’s done, the things they’ve thrown in here for. And you still want to sit beside her and wrap your arm around her shoulders and tell her it’s okay.
Because she’s haunted and you’re on patrol and it’s your job to keep people safe.
I was working outside when I heard the doorbell ring. The easiest way to get there was through the house. I ran as fast as I could, tripped over the ottonman. I get to the door and it is a kid telling me he is on patrol in neighborhood and he wanted me to know that everything was safe – he was on duty.
“Lacey you know im on my patrol tonight.” My father looked at me. “Cant you go out With Jessica or Charlotte or that boy your always taliking about to them, whats his name? Oliver? Hang out with him.” Yeah, if only, he’ll never love me, ever.
Perched high on the roof of the abandoned building, entwined in a half-naked post-coital coil, their heads turned in unison at the unmistakable noise. Approaching quickly were dozens of patrol cars: lights flashing, sirens wailing, tires squealing at each turn… There was no denying it. They were busted.
Last night I was out on patrol and found this huge dog blocking the entry way to the tea parlor. I couldn’t believe how big he was. I pushed him – he wouldn’t budge. I pulled on him, he just looked at me. Nothing I could do would move him.
checking for and roaming in a particular area for security and supervision.generally done by police
The officer sighed as he looked up at the sign. His patrol three hours from ending, but the town was anything but populated. His wife at home with his crying baby, and all he could do is sit. The few people who did stop and see him only screaming at his as thief.
The gun trembled slightly in his hand, this was his first day in uniform on patrol. He was supposed to be sitting in the coffee shop eating donuts not in the middle of a face off with a gang punk and an AK pointed at his head.
act of walking and travelling around an area.eg. police used to patrol the area very frequently.the patrolling word is generally used in pretext of police walking around a locality for security and checking for non social elements
red white and blue flashes when you get a hit, otherwise you are going in circles, looking, sometimes looking too hard. trying to find a formidable or diabolical or just plain scum bag opponent.