The anchor is heavy, floating fast, down to the bottom of the sea. The weight pulling it fast through the blue waters, then hitting the warm sunned out sand. The splash it made as it was thrown from the pirate ship.
halfbright
Sinking to the bottom of the sea.
I’m an anchor.
The weight drew through me like a rock messing with sand.
Brutal eyes,
Leads to great compromise.
My darling hold me down,
The future is about to drown.
its heavy, floating fast down to the bottom of the sea. the weight pulling it fast through the blue waters, then hitting the warm sunned out sand. the splash it made as it was thrown from the pirate ship..
halfbright
You are my anchor. Somehow I can’t help but feel that I could just fly away away away from this place if it weren’t for you holding me down.
I’ve always felt like just running away.
But you keep me here.
Celine Wu
I would never say that he is my anchor. But I suppose by saying that, I’m opening myself up to refuting it. It’s just sometimes I feel so encapsulated by the loneliness that promises to pull my out in its tide.
Mallory Brown
the anchor was big and rusty and as it hit the bottom of the sea a memory was triggered from roberts mind and he cried out in pain as he remembered sarah and their love, and the dog.
chloe
He is my anchor, she thought dreamily. He keeps me steady, and he loves me, and I love him, and… Everything is so perfect. She just smiled and laughed, unable to contain it.
Ironically, her anchor was a 1000 miles below sea level, slowly being eaten by little fishes and big fishes alike, and she ignored this fact.
Ash
It’s part of a boat. It’s to help it stop moving. People seem to be getting tattoos of one. It’s sorta like a trendy thing? Idk. It represents a sailor. Some pictures artists have drawn of one is pretty sweet:)
Solly
we were sailing.
far, far away.
but lo and behold, a shoreline came up.
no.
there was no shore.
there couldn’t have been a shore.
but there it stood.
shoreline.
before me.
anchors down, people out.
on to the shore we go.
maggie
You’re the anchor of my life
the chain to my soul
I never knew what love was like
until you made me whole
I simply took up anything
and said it was my love
but you took me from my selfish goals
and gave me your white dove… soap
Well, I guess I’ve run out of words
I guess I ran out of rhymes.
Forgive me, it’s been a while,
At least I’m not in a job with mimes.
to hold down a fort or something, I feel as though I am being held down from doing what I want to do, from exploring life. An anchor is a negative annotation to me, it does not put me in a happy place unfortunately as much as i wish to be
Kristel Buschan
Anchors make killer tattoos–quintessential, baby. I’d like to earn a reason to wear an anchor on my epidermis.
I am the anchor. I don’t help I just stop people. My mother has invested so much and gotten nothing. Tried so hard and nothing. People have tried helping me it DOES NOTHING! I am an anchor. So I guess this is why I will run. Now to where.
Mando
Rising, floating,
I’m almost there.
But wait….. there you are again.
Just like always.
Anchoring me down.
It’s because of you that I’m always drowning, isn’t it?
Eve
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I did not have my anchors. I have a home – no that’s not right – I need to put my children first as they are the heaviest of all my anchors. If not for them, I would be untethered, unattached and without a sense of place. My anchors are my sense of perspective and they create my sense of home.
Lisa Ralston
The boat rocked as he tipped over the side. Within seconds he resurfaced, holding up the anchor for me to take from him. The job was done.
tonykeyesjapan
Sometimes I wish I’d been made as delicate in mind and temperament as Ophelia. So that when outrageous misfortune visits me then maybe I could take the easy way out by drowning. But the truth is I am different thing entirely. I’ve no anchors to moor me, but the isolation in being singular is often times lonely course to sail.
Water Baby
The anchor went over the side, and into the water with a splash. Mel walked out to the side of the boat and stared in the distance. The water was a deep blue, darkening in places, but clear. She knew it would be chillier than she thought once she dived in.
Linda Adams
The anchor to my mind in inexistent. It should be there, like everyone, I should have one that holds my thoughts into place making me able to concentrate on something. And yet. it is not there, and the boat that is my mind floats so easily away.
Giovanna
It was a tethering of sorts, that simple kiss on the cheek. It didn’t mean anything, not really, but it was a good deal more than he’d ever had before. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to put down roots with a friend.
Life is hardly held down by anything close to an anchor. It’s not held down at all, but rather lifted. Lifted by your decisions and the people around you.
There are many things in life that ground you. Something that keeps you sane and helps you be the ‘normal’ human being we are expected to be. Yet still we seem to drift off path, burn old bridges and make the same old mistakes as well as new ones. Nothing is as stable as it seems, the theory that life can be anchored merely a myth.
It was the weight of his heart in my hands that kept me standing so still. He was the anchor to my indecisive demeanor. The constant. The one thing I knew I could rely on no matter the circumstance.
Elise F.
He was my anchor, my rock. The one who kept me on my feet. The one who I trusted more than anybody else in the whole world. I loved him. No, I still love him, even if he doesn’t love me. I was friend-zoned, in a sense- even though you always hear about the girls friend-zoning the guys.
Vivian
“Heave the anchor boys!” He cried into the veil of the mist. An ominous departure, to be certain. Their stay in Newfoundland had been characterized with an unseasonable fog which seemed to swallow up the port.
Jonathan
And suddenly it approaches
dragged next to you
they put the cuffs on your wrists
and laugh as you
tip back into the
water. And then it is dropped
down, down, down,
to the bottom of the sea.
And suddenly you are
lost, lost, lost.
chains tugging at your arms
connected to it-
the heavy thing that will keep you forever
and you fight your will to breathe
“You’re my anchor,” she says. “The one thing that keeps me tied down, stuck in this fucking town. I want to cut you loose, float away, but I need you when things get rough. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that.”
I nod. “Yeah. You shouldn’t. But that’s just how it is. But I can’t hold you down any longer. It drains me, just as much as you. It’s exhausting, keeping you from…living, I guess.”
The rain was falling at a speed we could not comprehend. The sting of the cold water struck our skin like bullets. We couldn’t continue plowing through the waves at this rate. We had to drop anchor.
Brandon
The Anchor of the Stars.
It pulls, it forces, it rotates, it…. is the source.
The source of all.
Gravity, the essence of the Universe.
And suddenly it approaches
they drag it next to you
they put the cuffs on your wrists
and laugh as you
tip back into the
water. And then it is dropped
down, down, down,
to the bottom of the sea.
And suddenly you are
lost, lost, lost.
chains tugging at your arms
connected to it-
the heavy thing that will keep you forever
and you fight your will to breathe
This thing is weighing me down like an anchor. I really am trying to move on from this situation, to go on with life. But then I see your face everywhere, and you appear everywhere I go. How am I supposed to deal with this? By the looks of today, you could probably realize how hard it was for me. You could tell it was killing me inside, but there’s only one question I want to know. Did you even care?
And suddenly it approaches
they put the cuffs on your wrists
and laugh as you
tip back into the
water. And then it is dropped
down, down, down
to the bottom of the sea.
And suddenly you are
lost, lost, lost
chains tugging at your arms
connected to
the heavy thing that will keep you forever
and you fight your will to breathe
Andrea
anchor. I feel it pulling me in and out of its station, a force so gentle, so strong and heavy and good, it drives me into the depths, and yet while still aloft on a sea of change.
anchor it is the symbol of our navy a symbol of pride strength we can trace the anchor back to ancient times it is scattered through history it is truly magnificent and amazing
nick
The sea the ship captain yelled at his crew, “Throw out the anchor.” Suddenly the ship was covered with the white foam of the sea. The crew was cold and startled but the job had to be done.
Tom
holding man down. Fast waves. ropes and pirates. Boards to sticks. Put me on the plank, mate, i am sure I can swim. Watch me through that one open eye. We all have to begin. Holding this boat down, we can make it if we sin.
bee
The ideals had pulled them all together, but it was /him/ that kept them tied. He was the anchor, the weight that held them steady. He was the keystone that kept them from crumbling. His easiness, his empathy, his enthusiasm. He kept their feet on the ground while preserving the belief that they could fly.
Jehan was afraid to tell him this outright, because he knew that it was all the sort of cliche poetic language that he so often laughed at. But now Lamarque was dead, the revolution was at hand, and he needed him to know.
Blushing all the way to the roots of his hair, Jehan kicked a little notebook under Courfeyrac’s door. He left before he could lose his nerve or Courfeyrac could find it.
The anchor is heavy, floating fast, down to the bottom of the sea. The weight pulling it fast through the blue waters, then hitting the warm sunned out sand. The splash it made as it was thrown from the pirate ship.
Sinking to the bottom of the sea.
I’m an anchor.
The weight drew through me like a rock messing with sand.
Brutal eyes,
Leads to great compromise.
My darling hold me down,
The future is about to drown.
its heavy, floating fast down to the bottom of the sea. the weight pulling it fast through the blue waters, then hitting the warm sunned out sand. the splash it made as it was thrown from the pirate ship..
You are my anchor. Somehow I can’t help but feel that I could just fly away away away from this place if it weren’t for you holding me down.
I’ve always felt like just running away.
But you keep me here.
I would never say that he is my anchor. But I suppose by saying that, I’m opening myself up to refuting it. It’s just sometimes I feel so encapsulated by the loneliness that promises to pull my out in its tide.
the anchor was big and rusty and as it hit the bottom of the sea a memory was triggered from roberts mind and he cried out in pain as he remembered sarah and their love, and the dog.
He is my anchor, she thought dreamily. He keeps me steady, and he loves me, and I love him, and… Everything is so perfect. She just smiled and laughed, unable to contain it.
Ironically, her anchor was a 1000 miles below sea level, slowly being eaten by little fishes and big fishes alike, and she ignored this fact.
It’s part of a boat. It’s to help it stop moving. People seem to be getting tattoos of one. It’s sorta like a trendy thing? Idk. It represents a sailor. Some pictures artists have drawn of one is pretty sweet:)
we were sailing.
far, far away.
but lo and behold, a shoreline came up.
no.
there was no shore.
there couldn’t have been a shore.
but there it stood.
shoreline.
before me.
anchors down, people out.
on to the shore we go.
You’re the anchor of my life
the chain to my soul
I never knew what love was like
until you made me whole
I simply took up anything
and said it was my love
but you took me from my selfish goals
and gave me your white dove… soap
Well, I guess I’ve run out of words
I guess I ran out of rhymes.
Forgive me, it’s been a while,
At least I’m not in a job with mimes.
to hold down a fort or something, I feel as though I am being held down from doing what I want to do, from exploring life. An anchor is a negative annotation to me, it does not put me in a happy place unfortunately as much as i wish to be
Anchors make killer tattoos–quintessential, baby. I’d like to earn a reason to wear an anchor on my epidermis.
I am the anchor. I don’t help I just stop people. My mother has invested so much and gotten nothing. Tried so hard and nothing. People have tried helping me it DOES NOTHING! I am an anchor. So I guess this is why I will run. Now to where.
Rising, floating,
I’m almost there.
But wait….. there you are again.
Just like always.
Anchoring me down.
It’s because of you that I’m always drowning, isn’t it?
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I did not have my anchors. I have a home – no that’s not right – I need to put my children first as they are the heaviest of all my anchors. If not for them, I would be untethered, unattached and without a sense of place. My anchors are my sense of perspective and they create my sense of home.
The boat rocked as he tipped over the side. Within seconds he resurfaced, holding up the anchor for me to take from him. The job was done.
Sometimes I wish I’d been made as delicate in mind and temperament as Ophelia. So that when outrageous misfortune visits me then maybe I could take the easy way out by drowning. But the truth is I am different thing entirely. I’ve no anchors to moor me, but the isolation in being singular is often times lonely course to sail.
The anchor went over the side, and into the water with a splash. Mel walked out to the side of the boat and stared in the distance. The water was a deep blue, darkening in places, but clear. She knew it would be chillier than she thought once she dived in.
The anchor to my mind in inexistent. It should be there, like everyone, I should have one that holds my thoughts into place making me able to concentrate on something. And yet. it is not there, and the boat that is my mind floats so easily away.
It was a tethering of sorts, that simple kiss on the cheek. It didn’t mean anything, not really, but it was a good deal more than he’d ever had before. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to put down roots with a friend.
Life is hardly held down by anything close to an anchor. It’s not held down at all, but rather lifted. Lifted by your decisions and the people around you.
There are many things in life that ground you. Something that keeps you sane and helps you be the ‘normal’ human being we are expected to be. Yet still we seem to drift off path, burn old bridges and make the same old mistakes as well as new ones. Nothing is as stable as it seems, the theory that life can be anchored merely a myth.
I was walking down the street the other day and saw an anchor in someones yard as a decoration. Found it rather unique.
It was the weight of his heart in my hands that kept me standing so still. He was the anchor to my indecisive demeanor. The constant. The one thing I knew I could rely on no matter the circumstance.
He was my anchor, my rock. The one who kept me on my feet. The one who I trusted more than anybody else in the whole world. I loved him. No, I still love him, even if he doesn’t love me. I was friend-zoned, in a sense- even though you always hear about the girls friend-zoning the guys.
“Heave the anchor boys!” He cried into the veil of the mist. An ominous departure, to be certain. Their stay in Newfoundland had been characterized with an unseasonable fog which seemed to swallow up the port.
And suddenly it approaches
dragged next to you
they put the cuffs on your wrists
and laugh as you
tip back into the
water. And then it is dropped
down, down, down,
to the bottom of the sea.
And suddenly you are
lost, lost, lost.
chains tugging at your arms
connected to it-
the heavy thing that will keep you forever
and you fight your will to breathe
“You’re my anchor,” she says. “The one thing that keeps me tied down, stuck in this fucking town. I want to cut you loose, float away, but I need you when things get rough. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that.”
I nod. “Yeah. You shouldn’t. But that’s just how it is. But I can’t hold you down any longer. It drains me, just as much as you. It’s exhausting, keeping you from…living, I guess.”
The rain was falling at a speed we could not comprehend. The sting of the cold water struck our skin like bullets. We couldn’t continue plowing through the waves at this rate. We had to drop anchor.
The Anchor of the Stars.
It pulls, it forces, it rotates, it…. is the source.
The source of all.
Gravity, the essence of the Universe.
17 fathoms down on a starry black night. What’s moving on the bottom? What’s beneath the black mirror of the sea.
My ghosts?
My sins?
The more I learn, the more I am sure of it. People were never meant to be anchors.
And suddenly it approaches
they drag it next to you
they put the cuffs on your wrists
and laugh as you
tip back into the
water. And then it is dropped
down, down, down,
to the bottom of the sea.
And suddenly you are
lost, lost, lost.
chains tugging at your arms
connected to it-
the heavy thing that will keep you forever
and you fight your will to breathe
This thing is weighing me down like an anchor. I really am trying to move on from this situation, to go on with life. But then I see your face everywhere, and you appear everywhere I go. How am I supposed to deal with this? By the looks of today, you could probably realize how hard it was for me. You could tell it was killing me inside, but there’s only one question I want to know. Did you even care?
And suddenly it approaches
they put the cuffs on your wrists
and laugh as you
tip back into the
water. And then it is dropped
down, down, down
to the bottom of the sea.
And suddenly you are
lost, lost, lost
chains tugging at your arms
connected to
the heavy thing that will keep you forever
and you fight your will to breathe
anchor. I feel it pulling me in and out of its station, a force so gentle, so strong and heavy and good, it drives me into the depths, and yet while still aloft on a sea of change.
anchor it is the symbol of our navy a symbol of pride strength we can trace the anchor back to ancient times it is scattered through history it is truly magnificent and amazing
The sea the ship captain yelled at his crew, “Throw out the anchor.” Suddenly the ship was covered with the white foam of the sea. The crew was cold and startled but the job had to be done.
holding man down. Fast waves. ropes and pirates. Boards to sticks. Put me on the plank, mate, i am sure I can swim. Watch me through that one open eye. We all have to begin. Holding this boat down, we can make it if we sin.
The ideals had pulled them all together, but it was /him/ that kept them tied. He was the anchor, the weight that held them steady. He was the keystone that kept them from crumbling. His easiness, his empathy, his enthusiasm. He kept their feet on the ground while preserving the belief that they could fly.
Jehan was afraid to tell him this outright, because he knew that it was all the sort of cliche poetic language that he so often laughed at. But now Lamarque was dead, the revolution was at hand, and he needed him to know.
Blushing all the way to the roots of his hair, Jehan kicked a little notebook under Courfeyrac’s door. He left before he could lose his nerve or Courfeyrac could find it.