Trying to see what exactly was going on was like looking through a window behind slatted blinds, or from within some cage with thin bars obscuring every other little bit of being. Or maybe like sitting behind some massive corporate bar code, a price on life.
i think that bars are amazing. when i was yonger i danced ballet and the barr was my favorite. i just realized that this is about bars, as in the ones you go and drink at. yeah those are cool too. i really havent been to one yet to much so i dont feel qualified to say a word on them. thats probably why my brain said ballet barr
Alexa
The confining ones of iron, the loosening, boosening ones full of spirit… leading to delirium. The mind is always entangled in bars!
bars. bars. twilight cars. racing by the way, humming now to say. it’s closing time.
Nicole
I don’t like the smell of them. All of the cigarette smoke and the lingering scent of booze. That used to be me once, don’t get me wrong, but now those days are over. I go there because of my friends, or because I like the food and I don’t mind going by myself. Sitting at the bar gives me faster service too. The waiter is right there, and boy isn’t it lucky if the waiter is someone I could flirt with.
erin m.
last night’s blackout would not have been a problem even if it lasted weeks, as our pantry is full to the brim with power bars, trail mix bars, bars that if raised to our mouths might allow survival for a little longer
It was three o’clock in the morning when she finally got herself up from the concrete floor. She couldn’t help but think what happened last night. Maybe she should stay away from the bars more often.
There’s alcohol and drugs and sex and lots of rock ‘n roll. The party music is drowning out and everyone looks a little blue, but she still dances because she feels the low bass reverberating through her body.
bars. i thought it said bras! bought a whole stack of new ones the other day. went to the fitting room and had a lady measure me. wasn’t as bad as i’d thought it would be. my skin looked like lumpy porridge in the mirror, but the lady was kind and didn’t say a word.
I was awoken by the swaying movement and the roaring of familiar voices. How did I end up in here? I peered through the bars cautiously. Ah, rugged faced poachers armed with guns and daggers . So mama was right about warning us never to trust humans. Now they have found and captured me. The home where my brothers and my mama used to live in peace under the oak tree alongside the stream seems nowhere near here. Then, a terrible glance got me paralyzed in shock. No, this can’t be. About 2 meters away, there my mama was. They caught her and kept her in this cage too. I noticed there was something on her back; something sharp and red was sticking out of her fur and streams of blood trickling down to the floor of the metal cage. She laid there, motionless and silent. I knew. She did not make it. I began to howl and bark furiously and suddenly, there was a loud bang and I felt a sharp pain on my back. I yelped in pain and collapsed to the side. In a flash, everything went blank.
I see the monkey bars in the playground ahead of me. Instantly my mind flashes back to when i was a toddler, walking across the busy street with my mom. i can see my house, with the big shutters and windows, across the street. i see the other kids and their parents, laughter everywhere, joy is filled in the air, and as the memory fades, I look around and see my mom, walking with my younger sister, swinging on those same monkey bars, smiling.
I was awoken by the swaying movement and the roaring of familiar voices. How did I end up here? I peered through the bars cautiously. Ah, rugged faced poachers armed with guns and daggers . So what mama warned us about never trusting humans. Where were they taking me? The home where my brothers and my mama used to live in peace under the oak tree alongside the stream seems nowhere near here. Then, a terrible glance got me paralyzed in shock. No, this can’t be. About 2 meters away, there my mama was. They caught her and kept her in this cage too. I noticed there was something on her back; something sharp and red was sticking out of her fur and streams of blood trickling down to the floor of the wooden floor. She did not make it. I began to howl and bark furiously and suddenly, there was a loud bang and I felt a sharp pain on my back. I yelped in pain and collapsed to the side. In a flash, everything went blank.
Bars of light fell down between the clouds, forming shafts of brilliance surrounded by shadow. Mom used to call it “God Light” because in the religious books Jesus was always illuminated by it.
Suz Freerksen
I broke through those bars and chains a long time ago. Why would I go and chain myself up again? I swear, I’m a slave and prisoner to my own soul; constantly following the first thought in my mind.
laughalot
Stuck behind these bars constricting my life.
It’s not an easy life to live especially knowing you’re innocent.
You can say ‘I’m innocent’ all you like, but when you’ve been framed and the evidence is stacked against you who will believe ose words?
So here I am on Lock Down.
Bound and restricted by chains.
Stuck behind these bars constricting my life.
Harkiran Nerwan`
bars? 32 bars in a pop song? went to 3 too many bars last weekend? what do you mean bars? that’s less than inspiring. how am i supposed to write about bars? like swinging on the monkey bars? 2 bars of xanex until i’m passed the fuck out? or how about the candy bars the fat asses salavate over? yo, fuck bars. shit’s bunk.
The notes flit by across the bars that contain your secrets. These bars they entrap you, enslave you. These notes are all you’ve ever know, all you’re going to know. Nothing else matters to you. You call music your one true love but music doesn’t live in those bars. You are just a prisoner to the sheet. Listen to the rhythms of your soul, make sense of all the shit in your life, let the feeling of love entrap you in it’s confines just like your bar staff prison cell. Find your music and sing it, kid.
Em
Bars of gold. Parallel bars. Chocolate bars. That woman bars me from advancement. Lots of meaning for the word “bars.” The one that strikes me right now is a person who bars me from advancement. How cruel is that?
There were bars on the bathroom window, painted white. An uneasy divide between the geraniums sat pretty on the ledge and the cascading greenery outside.
It is Friday, so as soon as work is over I am going to the pub. A pub is a British bar. Always drink in moderation, you don’t want to end up a mess. That would be most ungracious and potentially risky.
Cathy
I sit here behind these bars anticipated the sweet flower I soon would like to possess but soon is just not soon enough, and two years is a constant thought while behind these bars. My dream, so simple yet so complex seems so far away like a bad child set out unable to play. I’m grounded yet so ungrounded in a home not of my own these bars consume me. Closing in, strangling my vocals that wish to sing, all I’d like is to breath – to grow, to smell that sweet flower and maybe even become it. Two years never felts so long. 721
AlissaJade
I’ve never been in a bar. But he goes to bars all the time. I wonder what it’s like in there. Why does it attract him so? The wonders of a bar… are they really that great? They just serve alcohol, don’t they? I guess the atmosphere is nice or something. I should become a bartender.
FUN!!! Everybody just take shots!!
+z$8frZdyL%68pSU/:>w<:E3.lG-!XIB
uneven bars. dive bars. bar exams. parallel bars. gay bars. straight bars. small-town bars. gold bars. pull up bars.
Trying to see what exactly was going on was like looking through a window behind slatted blinds, or from within some cage with thin bars obscuring every other little bit of being. Or maybe like sitting behind some massive corporate bar code, a price on life.
i think that bars are amazing. when i was yonger i danced ballet and the barr was my favorite. i just realized that this is about bars, as in the ones you go and drink at. yeah those are cool too. i really havent been to one yet to much so i dont feel qualified to say a word on them. thats probably why my brain said ballet barr
The confining ones of iron, the loosening, boosening ones full of spirit… leading to delirium. The mind is always entangled in bars!
bars. bars. twilight cars. racing by the way, humming now to say. it’s closing time.
I don’t like the smell of them. All of the cigarette smoke and the lingering scent of booze. That used to be me once, don’t get me wrong, but now those days are over. I go there because of my friends, or because I like the food and I don’t mind going by myself. Sitting at the bar gives me faster service too. The waiter is right there, and boy isn’t it lucky if the waiter is someone I could flirt with.
last night’s blackout would not have been a problem even if it lasted weeks, as our pantry is full to the brim with power bars, trail mix bars, bars that if raised to our mouths might allow survival for a little longer
It was three o’clock in the morning when she finally got herself up from the concrete floor. She couldn’t help but think what happened last night. Maybe she should stay away from the bars more often.
There’s alcohol and drugs and sex and lots of rock ‘n roll. The party music is drowning out and everyone looks a little blue, but she still dances because she feels the low bass reverberating through her body.
bars of what? a prision cell? bars of gold? or the gold bars of a prision cell?
////////////////////////////////////
bars. i thought it said bras! bought a whole stack of new ones the other day. went to the fitting room and had a lady measure me. wasn’t as bad as i’d thought it would be. my skin looked like lumpy porridge in the mirror, but the lady was kind and didn’t say a word.
I was awoken by the swaying movement and the roaring of familiar voices. How did I end up in here? I peered through the bars cautiously. Ah, rugged faced poachers armed with guns and daggers . So mama was right about warning us never to trust humans. Now they have found and captured me. The home where my brothers and my mama used to live in peace under the oak tree alongside the stream seems nowhere near here. Then, a terrible glance got me paralyzed in shock. No, this can’t be. About 2 meters away, there my mama was. They caught her and kept her in this cage too. I noticed there was something on her back; something sharp and red was sticking out of her fur and streams of blood trickling down to the floor of the metal cage. She laid there, motionless and silent. I knew. She did not make it. I began to howl and bark furiously and suddenly, there was a loud bang and I felt a sharp pain on my back. I yelped in pain and collapsed to the side. In a flash, everything went blank.
I used to go to bars
When I was younger
Before I had kids
I guess its because I
went to bars
That’s why I had kids.
In the end.
I see the monkey bars in the playground ahead of me. Instantly my mind flashes back to when i was a toddler, walking across the busy street with my mom. i can see my house, with the big shutters and windows, across the street. i see the other kids and their parents, laughter everywhere, joy is filled in the air, and as the memory fades, I look around and see my mom, walking with my younger sister, swinging on those same monkey bars, smiling.
I was awoken by the swaying movement and the roaring of familiar voices. How did I end up here? I peered through the bars cautiously. Ah, rugged faced poachers armed with guns and daggers . So what mama warned us about never trusting humans. Where were they taking me? The home where my brothers and my mama used to live in peace under the oak tree alongside the stream seems nowhere near here. Then, a terrible glance got me paralyzed in shock. No, this can’t be. About 2 meters away, there my mama was. They caught her and kept her in this cage too. I noticed there was something on her back; something sharp and red was sticking out of her fur and streams of blood trickling down to the floor of the wooden floor. She did not make it. I began to howl and bark furiously and suddenly, there was a loud bang and I felt a sharp pain on my back. I yelped in pain and collapsed to the side. In a flash, everything went blank.
I was behind bars once. He kept me there because he was afraid of what I would do.
From between the bars, the world looks so huge. Freedom is a sweet puddle of molasses just out of arms reach. I’ll never taste it again.
The neon sign in the bar window flickered like an aged light house lulling ships to a jagged, rocky shore.
Bars of light fell down between the clouds, forming shafts of brilliance surrounded by shadow. Mom used to call it “God Light” because in the religious books Jesus was always illuminated by it.
I broke through those bars and chains a long time ago. Why would I go and chain myself up again? I swear, I’m a slave and prisoner to my own soul; constantly following the first thought in my mind.
Stuck behind these bars constricting my life.
It’s not an easy life to live especially knowing you’re innocent.
You can say ‘I’m innocent’ all you like, but when you’ve been framed and the evidence is stacked against you who will believe ose words?
So here I am on Lock Down.
Bound and restricted by chains.
Stuck behind these bars constricting my life.
bars? 32 bars in a pop song? went to 3 too many bars last weekend? what do you mean bars? that’s less than inspiring. how am i supposed to write about bars? like swinging on the monkey bars? 2 bars of xanex until i’m passed the fuck out? or how about the candy bars the fat asses salavate over? yo, fuck bars. shit’s bunk.
The notes flit by across the bars that contain your secrets. These bars they entrap you, enslave you. These notes are all you’ve ever know, all you’re going to know. Nothing else matters to you. You call music your one true love but music doesn’t live in those bars. You are just a prisoner to the sheet. Listen to the rhythms of your soul, make sense of all the shit in your life, let the feeling of love entrap you in it’s confines just like your bar staff prison cell. Find your music and sing it, kid.
Bars of gold. Parallel bars. Chocolate bars. That woman bars me from advancement. Lots of meaning for the word “bars.” The one that strikes me right now is a person who bars me from advancement. How cruel is that?
There were bars on the bathroom window, painted white. An uneasy divide between the geraniums sat pretty on the ledge and the cascading greenery outside.
It is Friday, so as soon as work is over I am going to the pub. A pub is a British bar. Always drink in moderation, you don’t want to end up a mess. That would be most ungracious and potentially risky.
I sit here behind these bars anticipated the sweet flower I soon would like to possess but soon is just not soon enough, and two years is a constant thought while behind these bars. My dream, so simple yet so complex seems so far away like a bad child set out unable to play. I’m grounded yet so ungrounded in a home not of my own these bars consume me. Closing in, strangling my vocals that wish to sing, all I’d like is to breath – to grow, to smell that sweet flower and maybe even become it. Two years never felts so long. 721
I’ve never been in a bar. But he goes to bars all the time. I wonder what it’s like in there. Why does it attract him so? The wonders of a bar… are they really that great? They just serve alcohol, don’t they? I guess the atmosphere is nice or something. I should become a bartender.
No matter how many times our life’s behind bars, everytime our souls make their way out, just by using the helicopter that’s built by our dreams.