While I inflate with carbs and sugar and gelatin. I think not of the many men I won’t bed this year, but think of the many taste buds who’d been waiting for a reason to taste cinnamon pretzels once again. I think not of the way clothes will fit me but of how good it feels to do nothing. I think not of the joy of exercise, only of the mild pain my knee still inflicts.
ego helium and puffed chests
believing everything
is coming our way
pop is the sound
we’d be wiser to embrace
deflation our humility
humble we respect
gifts of the present
resent no person
recognize not the swell
or lack thereof
each of us string along
tightly tethered on wrist
full of air, various shapes, sizes, and colors. Hate the sound they make when they pop.
Heyaa
She had always loved them. The rubber scent, the rough yet gentle feel. Though the variety of colors often made herself think. What color do i like the best? Red, she thought. That had always been his favorite.
cries loudly
The red balloon floats upwards the moment her sticky fingers unclench around the string. A different girl might cry, but not her. Instead she watches it, admires the sunlight through the red latex against the deep blue sky, and smiles at the simple beauty of simple things with the kind of simple joy only a child can possess.
there is air in it and it is floating above your head. you do not know what color it is but you feel the electrons rubbing against eachother and your spine starts tingling like an animal’s. it is rising and you feel your mind rising with it. eventually it nears the sun and vanishes
nicolegarau
The red balloon floated upwards the moment her sticky fingers unclenched around the string. A weaker girl might have cried, but not her. Instead she watched it, admired the sunlight through the red latex against the deep blue sky, and smiled at the simple beauty of simple things with the kind of simple joy only a child can possess.
Mia Pomales
pink balloon flows by the wind,
where will my destiny take me to?
She knew the type. He was the kind of man who taunted from the tops of the monkey bars as a child, who purposely popped the balloons at another kid’s birthday party. He had a ruthless streak a mile wide, fostered from an early age. And now his habit of harming others was harming him in return.
the moment the girl saw the balloon she remembered her school days since her father use to get her one pink balloon daily since she was very fond of it.
today she remembers him and drops a tear!!! her father has gone for ever and now no one brings her the Balloon.
Namita Parmar
message colorful lively lovely kid free can fly can go to heaven. I want one rght now. we have a balloon at our room they are white with messages a
ella
fills up with air. it can float away. fill it up with helium and then kill your brain by breathing it in. It’s just a simple thin layer of plastic filled up with nothingness but it can be soo freaking fun to play with i love balloons
Claire
Uncle Jack was fond indeed of the thrasonical gasconade and rodomontade. Indeed, he enjoyed telling tall tales about his travels across the world by hot air balloon. He thought we believed the stories; but we knew he was full of hot air.
1n33dm0r3t1m3
He shouldn’t have accepted the offered spoon. One snort and his head felt lighter. A few seconds later everything got blurry. “Look at him,” someone screamed. “His head! It’s huge!”
Gary
The balloon went so high up into the air. As it looked down below it got sad, for it was leaving all that it had ever known. Alone in the world now. The balloon went so high up into the air.
DandylionDaydream
i have a balloon. Big, rubbery, light and bright. It soars above my head, seeing things I cannot see. I wish I could float up there with it.
nancy klein
When I was a child my father bought me a red balloon. in my naive mind I thought it would help me float to places unknown. that afternoon I let go of my precious adventure seeking charm while drifting to sleep on my fathers shoulder. I never knew where my balloon went, but I always knew I had missed the adventure.
Jacqueline
the man with the red balloon saw a child who wore the mask of a wolf and questioned him of his appearance and origin. the child responded with a bite. never trust a child who bears a mask. for anyone with a shielded face is not to be trusted, let alone talked to.
Bianca Zaragoza
The balloon reminded her of her mother’s funeral. All she could do was sit there and cry, so her aunt gave a balloon to little Elise. A small black one, and that’s the one her eyes are locked on now. She silently teases at the skin of the balloon, feeling it was slightly deflated. Looking around at the bland living room, the balloon had no place. Elise didn’t know what to make of her Aunt’s house, where she was destined to live now that her father was gone too. Sighing, she tied the string of the balloon around the strap of her little black dress and wiped away the tear that dared to escape. Once more, she looked up at the balloon, and all it could bring to her mind is how emotionally tired she was.
Jocelyn
It pops! There it blows! Through and through the wind it blows, flowing gracefully like a butterfly. It’s vibrant red teases you as you attempt to grab hold of it, but the beautiful balloon just won’t let you have it.
Jocelyn
TheBalloonChair sat pretty on his leather couch. It was nicely built by all the right builders. He plays video games there now, on Saturdays, while in k-holes and trances brought on from Pokémon episodes. Life is a long time.
Benny
The red balloon flew to the sky when the little boy let go of it. He wondered where it would fly to, would it be to the moon, Mars, Africa. Will there be another boy to use it and play with it when it comes down from the sky.
I remember something about 99 luftballoons. And Captain Kirk.
True story: I did watch a hell of a lot of the original Star Trek back when I lived in Germany. But I honestly love to play “dumb blonde” when people talk about that random with me. Why? Because I do not want to have a long drawn out nerd conversation about it. I liked it, but it does not occupy much of my internal thoughts.
I could say the same for a lot of other things I know about. Although I do have my weakness for a handful of subjects. Topics that jingle like a pocket full of shells, which tinkle like a wreath full of bells. Like tambourines beating in time to serpentine flutes. I sigh. Release the balloons.
With a smile, Yazmeen took the pig bladder and blew air into it until it was large, opaque, and buoyant. He tied the end off, then handed it to Bejameen. “Don’t pop it.” he said, “And share with your sister.”
Bejameen shrugged awkwardly with one shoulder, absorbed by the pig bladder.
“Throw it up.” said Emeli as she bent her head over her embroidery.
If I could be a balloon right now. Infinitely preferrable to living in my own house. I just want to fly away, with all the air and craziness and bad things far beneath me. Or even better, flying out of me into the negligeble air.
Elena
Whistling, tis-ah-sling, lillium, lillium lillium…I think the ball-la-la-la-loon-loon has a nice rhyme for keeping time.
Balloons are wonderful things that allow one to have endless amounts of fun. One can easily be any age to use one, there are no limitations! Go try one out for yourself right now!
Ellie
Balloons, so loved by my kids, such great fun, and without fail they are the source of such passionate arguments. Which balloon belongs to which kid? Where can the balloon be hid so that everyone else can’t find it to play with?
rachelzana
It floated up into the air, weightless in its travel. I followed its green speck all the way until the clouds took it away from me. Then I cried, and mama told me I was being stupid and that I should get my butt back in the car or she’d throw me into the air with the balloon. Funny thing was, I wanted her to. I wanted to fly.
Balloons have always reminded her of birthdays, more specifically her sons birthday. Every year the one thing he could count on was balloons, he loved the bright colors and watching the balloons float to the ceiling. She never imagined that he would leave the world so young, she couldn’t count on things being stable in her life, for anyone could die at any die. But the one thing she could count on was balloons. There shouldn’t have been balloons at his funeral.
Balloons are inflatable and colorful. They can be made into animals and children like them. Made of rubber, they can be filled with helium or air. Stretchy and fun are balloons. I liked to tie them around my wrist when I was younger.
Chelsea Canard
The balloon popped and Rachel jumped. She had been daydreaming again. This time she was in a small village in France waiting for Patrick to come. His arrival brought her untold happiness. A far cry from her present reality.
Balloons. Wow aren’t they grand? and so versatile. You can have one giant one that take you into the air or a million strapped to a lawn chair or to the top of an animated house to launch you into the sky.
Leslie
He held the balloon firmly in his grasp as her brought it to his lover’s long and fair hair. His lips lowered to her hand as he brushed it against her head, with a large smile brimming from cheek to cheek.
meggaedon
Can you drown
a balloon?
Or will it shove
it’s way back
up and
gasp
(the air
it holds already)
The pink balloon lifted higher and higher. She craned her neck, switched from foot to foot, trying to catch a glimpse of her balloon that was floating further and further away. She looked at her empty hand and lightly frowned. Her lips parted a little as she contemplated how to feel. How should she feel? Her little balloon was gone. And she looked around. So were everyone else. The entire crowd; gone.
Fred Noah
It flies in the air above everyone’s heads and all the children look up and point with their fingers and gasp and wish they could float away just like a balloon. And though their lives are so simple, they know not of how difficult life becomes. And as they become adults, they will remember this instance and recall the feeling of wanting to fly away.
While I inflate with carbs and sugar and gelatin. I think not of the many men I won’t bed this year, but think of the many taste buds who’d been waiting for a reason to taste cinnamon pretzels once again. I think not of the way clothes will fit me but of how good it feels to do nothing. I think not of the joy of exercise, only of the mild pain my knee still inflicts.
ego helium and puffed chests
believing everything
is coming our way
pop is the sound
we’d be wiser to embrace
deflation our humility
humble we respect
gifts of the present
resent no person
recognize not the swell
or lack thereof
each of us string along
tightly tethered on wrist
full of air, various shapes, sizes, and colors. Hate the sound they make when they pop.
She had always loved them. The rubber scent, the rough yet gentle feel. Though the variety of colors often made herself think. What color do i like the best? Red, she thought. That had always been his favorite.
The red balloon floats upwards the moment her sticky fingers unclench around the string. A different girl might cry, but not her. Instead she watches it, admires the sunlight through the red latex against the deep blue sky, and smiles at the simple beauty of simple things with the kind of simple joy only a child can possess.
there is air in it and it is floating above your head. you do not know what color it is but you feel the electrons rubbing against eachother and your spine starts tingling like an animal’s. it is rising and you feel your mind rising with it. eventually it nears the sun and vanishes
The red balloon floated upwards the moment her sticky fingers unclenched around the string. A weaker girl might have cried, but not her. Instead she watched it, admired the sunlight through the red latex against the deep blue sky, and smiled at the simple beauty of simple things with the kind of simple joy only a child can possess.
pink balloon flows by the wind,
where will my destiny take me to?
She knew the type. He was the kind of man who taunted from the tops of the monkey bars as a child, who purposely popped the balloons at another kid’s birthday party. He had a ruthless streak a mile wide, fostered from an early age. And now his habit of harming others was harming him in return.
the moment the girl saw the balloon she remembered her school days since her father use to get her one pink balloon daily since she was very fond of it.
today she remembers him and drops a tear!!! her father has gone for ever and now no one brings her the Balloon.
message colorful lively lovely kid free can fly can go to heaven. I want one rght now. we have a balloon at our room they are white with messages a
fills up with air. it can float away. fill it up with helium and then kill your brain by breathing it in. It’s just a simple thin layer of plastic filled up with nothingness but it can be soo freaking fun to play with i love balloons
Uncle Jack was fond indeed of the thrasonical gasconade and rodomontade. Indeed, he enjoyed telling tall tales about his travels across the world by hot air balloon. He thought we believed the stories; but we knew he was full of hot air.
He shouldn’t have accepted the offered spoon. One snort and his head felt lighter. A few seconds later everything got blurry. “Look at him,” someone screamed. “His head! It’s huge!”
The balloon went so high up into the air. As it looked down below it got sad, for it was leaving all that it had ever known. Alone in the world now. The balloon went so high up into the air.
i have a balloon. Big, rubbery, light and bright. It soars above my head, seeing things I cannot see. I wish I could float up there with it.
When I was a child my father bought me a red balloon. in my naive mind I thought it would help me float to places unknown. that afternoon I let go of my precious adventure seeking charm while drifting to sleep on my fathers shoulder. I never knew where my balloon went, but I always knew I had missed the adventure.
the man with the red balloon saw a child who wore the mask of a wolf and questioned him of his appearance and origin. the child responded with a bite. never trust a child who bears a mask. for anyone with a shielded face is not to be trusted, let alone talked to.
The balloon reminded her of her mother’s funeral. All she could do was sit there and cry, so her aunt gave a balloon to little Elise. A small black one, and that’s the one her eyes are locked on now. She silently teases at the skin of the balloon, feeling it was slightly deflated. Looking around at the bland living room, the balloon had no place. Elise didn’t know what to make of her Aunt’s house, where she was destined to live now that her father was gone too. Sighing, she tied the string of the balloon around the strap of her little black dress and wiped away the tear that dared to escape. Once more, she looked up at the balloon, and all it could bring to her mind is how emotionally tired she was.
It pops! There it blows! Through and through the wind it blows, flowing gracefully like a butterfly. It’s vibrant red teases you as you attempt to grab hold of it, but the beautiful balloon just won’t let you have it.
TheBalloonChair sat pretty on his leather couch. It was nicely built by all the right builders. He plays video games there now, on Saturdays, while in k-holes and trances brought on from Pokémon episodes. Life is a long time.
The red balloon flew to the sky when the little boy let go of it. He wondered where it would fly to, would it be to the moon, Mars, Africa. Will there be another boy to use it and play with it when it comes down from the sky.
I remember something about 99 luftballoons. And Captain Kirk.
True story: I did watch a hell of a lot of the original Star Trek back when I lived in Germany. But I honestly love to play “dumb blonde” when people talk about that random with me. Why? Because I do not want to have a long drawn out nerd conversation about it. I liked it, but it does not occupy much of my internal thoughts.
I could say the same for a lot of other things I know about. Although I do have my weakness for a handful of subjects. Topics that jingle like a pocket full of shells, which tinkle like a wreath full of bells. Like tambourines beating in time to serpentine flutes. I sigh. Release the balloons.
With a smile, Yazmeen took the pig bladder and blew air into it until it was large, opaque, and buoyant. He tied the end off, then handed it to Bejameen. “Don’t pop it.” he said, “And share with your sister.”
Bejameen shrugged awkwardly with one shoulder, absorbed by the pig bladder.
“Throw it up.” said Emeli as she bent her head over her embroidery.
Bejameen threw the balloon up into the air.
ballooonnns baboons fluffy clouds in light blue sky red and yellow watch them fly they shine in the sunny light! green and blue
Light as air.
Just as fair.
See the fare.
Of fans and of glances.
Good graces in faces.
Think I rather look for the red balloon tethered to the chair.
If I could be a balloon right now. Infinitely preferrable to living in my own house. I just want to fly away, with all the air and craziness and bad things far beneath me. Or even better, flying out of me into the negligeble air.
Whistling, tis-ah-sling, lillium, lillium lillium…I think the ball-la-la-la-loon-loon has a nice rhyme for keeping time.
Balloons are wonderful things that allow one to have endless amounts of fun. One can easily be any age to use one, there are no limitations! Go try one out for yourself right now!
Balloons, so loved by my kids, such great fun, and without fail they are the source of such passionate arguments. Which balloon belongs to which kid? Where can the balloon be hid so that everyone else can’t find it to play with?
It floated up into the air, weightless in its travel. I followed its green speck all the way until the clouds took it away from me. Then I cried, and mama told me I was being stupid and that I should get my butt back in the car or she’d throw me into the air with the balloon. Funny thing was, I wanted her to. I wanted to fly.
Balloons have always reminded her of birthdays, more specifically her sons birthday. Every year the one thing he could count on was balloons, he loved the bright colors and watching the balloons float to the ceiling. She never imagined that he would leave the world so young, she couldn’t count on things being stable in her life, for anyone could die at any die. But the one thing she could count on was balloons. There shouldn’t have been balloons at his funeral.
“It’s a giraffe.”
She simply stared at him. “Giraffes don’t have three heads.”
“…those are his legs.”
Balloons are inflatable and colorful. They can be made into animals and children like them. Made of rubber, they can be filled with helium or air. Stretchy and fun are balloons. I liked to tie them around my wrist when I was younger.
The balloon popped and Rachel jumped. She had been daydreaming again. This time she was in a small village in France waiting for Patrick to come. His arrival brought her untold happiness. A far cry from her present reality.
Balloons. Wow aren’t they grand? and so versatile. You can have one giant one that take you into the air or a million strapped to a lawn chair or to the top of an animated house to launch you into the sky.
He held the balloon firmly in his grasp as her brought it to his lover’s long and fair hair. His lips lowered to her hand as he brushed it against her head, with a large smile brimming from cheek to cheek.
Can you drown
a balloon?
Or will it shove
it’s way back
up and
gasp
(the air
it holds already)
The pink balloon lifted higher and higher. She craned her neck, switched from foot to foot, trying to catch a glimpse of her balloon that was floating further and further away. She looked at her empty hand and lightly frowned. Her lips parted a little as she contemplated how to feel. How should she feel? Her little balloon was gone. And she looked around. So were everyone else. The entire crowd; gone.
It flies in the air above everyone’s heads and all the children look up and point with their fingers and gasp and wish they could float away just like a balloon. And though their lives are so simple, they know not of how difficult life becomes. And as they become adults, they will remember this instance and recall the feeling of wanting to fly away.