The place looked rundown. There was a car up on blocks in the front yard, the screen door was hanging by one hinge, and the porch looked like it would give way if it was stepped on. But this wasn’t a social call. I had a heart to repossess and a little thing like a wobbly porch wasn’t going to stop me.
Doug McIntire
Build a world. They create a foundation, or obstruct your journey? Are you sure that you can block your mind from wandering?
Gianna
blocks
cmostyn
building blocks, and little blocks of houses. suburbia taking over. all the little blocks looking the same, all the little blocking holding the same things. same people, same furniture, same dogs, same genetically eningeered food. blocks of the same thing. over and over and over and over….
erin topping
Fear blocks our dreams. That is all it comes down to when we fail to go after our hearts desire. There are only two real emotions: fear and love. You either serve one or the other at any moment in life. Be aware and chose carefully.
Peaceable
building blocks in the hand of a child, create the cities we live in, reside in, work in, play in, fuck in, and die in. building blocks with letters on the side, filled with nostalgia and old times. building blocks stacked high and never worth knocking down. building blocks call for memory making and innovation.
Katie
blocks are barriers. Things that keep people from doing what they love. They keep people safe and sorry. They doint want you to go out on a ledge. They want to keep you inside. Lonley and Dark
caro
I have a block schedule at school.
Its pretty cool. Yeah….
I LOVE BUILDING BLOCKS
they are what i live for.
you should play with them some time.
yup. anywho I think that games with blocks are cool
like cuberunner
pretty sick
anyway bye…………………………………………………………………
its still letting me write even though my times up?
stupid website.
cool.
HEYYOOO
I started by placing the blocks in a random order around the house. Just to see what my family would say. I placed maybe fifty and no one noticed them.
acinomhoy
blocks. lego blocks. the colorful memories of my childhood. i can remember one afternoon, seemingly not too long ago, but precisely 8 years ago… when these same lego blocks introduced me to one of my best friends. and now she’s moving to wisconsin… where are the lego blocks when i need them?
Alisha
When I was a kid I used to love looking at the wooden blocks. they had numbers, letters, animals and they smelled nice. they made a great sound when you clapped them together.
Cheryl
Built high and strong, in all sorts of shapes and designs, I create the shape of my world. When the foundation lacks the appropriate strength, or when my elbow inadvertently gets in the way–when the blocks tumble to the ground, I look at the new patterns emerging, I take a deep breath, and I begin again.
This is not a loss. It is not a set-back. It is just a step in the process. Step by step, piece by piece, block by block, I am building the future I desire. The future I deserve.
Tina
i start to wonder why in the world i am doing this but as it crossed my mind over and over i knew that i could not fail and found my self wanting to write about blocks. blocks are all different some tall some short.
braxton
My head, my talent, my hopes, my arteries, my relationship with my father-in-law…blocks…
JA
i like blocks i like building blocks hahaha
z
Blocks are piled high everywhere I look. I can just barely make out a tall building rising over the mountainious pieces of cement. I scramble for a hold on one of the larger blocks, only to fall once more.
Amber
The little girl giggles as she stacks her wooden blocks on top of one another. Her soft blond ringlets bounce as she claps her hands, happy with what she has made. “Mama! See!” she calls, only to be met with silence. “Mama?”
Rebecca
the blocks are stalked
they sit there,
they don’t move,
they expect you to move them,
to build them up,
to place them neatly in a row,
to form a word, a thought, an entire vision out of blocks.
They don’t move, they wait for you, for you to place them neatly in a row.
Berenice
Blocks and fruition, yes we are aware. Carriages pull our tides, left then right, and tossed us about. Scattered and torn, we scramble to our fragile minds, desperate for a hold. There’s nothing told, nothing to hold onto rather and now we have nothing more to rely upon. Words long devalued, we tried, at least… we tried.
e.dawn
blocks building up,
one on top of the other in my mind
no time to stack them orderly in the back of my mind.
They stand precariously dead center.
francesca
The blocks that i have had to over come this lifetime were many. I invite the daily challenge.
lorraine
building blocks of life.
pain. family. school.
seriously, that about sums up how each person is shaped.
but also how you deal with them..
i guess we all have our crutches. mine is moving on and growing. well i mean i move on and grow but on a very slow timescale.
jessegeeeee
My sister had a box of building blocks she kept under the stairs. Whenever I asked to play with them, she asked me for the secret word. “Penguin” I’d say chipperly, and she told me that was why I could never be an architect. Whenever I see the architects at my school, I wonder if they knew the secret word. I wonder if they said something more intelligent.
beingtranslator
4 blocks were placed upon eachother forming a crude make-shift tower. Next to the pile of blocks was the carcass of the pet cat. Next to Fluffy was an array of knives and cutting utensils. The baby had no qualm with gutting the cat. He didn’t know what evil was.
Reza
blocks of ice city blocks. and ironically enough, writers blocks. Blocks are uniform not chaotic
x
there were building blocks on the floor. letters numbers. we made words and then knocked them over. we watched as they made new words. and then we rebuilt. we made cities out of letters. towns out of numbers.
Finn
I used to play with blocks on my grandma’s front porch. Sitting in front of the door, I could be in the middle of all conversations while still staying in my own childhood world. I could listen to the smoker’s talking about farms. I could listen to the mom’s talking about cooking.
Katie Finch
my baby brother likes to play with blocks. he can spend hours at a time playing with blocks. he get angry when he knocks the blocks over. hes so cute when he plays with blocks. i love my baby brother and his blocks. blocks.
nicole
The blocks are orange and red and they tumble down onto your head. Blocks of large and blocks of small, there are just too many so they fall. I hate these blocks, I think they want my soul. Good thing I don’t have one anymore.
Buru
It’s impossible to imagine those colorful wooden cubes could be synonymous with obstacle, with something I’ll have to avoid or conquer. Sucks to be stuck.
Chloe
Building blocks, childhood pastime
Blocks, you can set them up anyway you want
Dont let it bother you, break down the blocks in your life
Something to break.
Her
To him, their grand, magnificent cities were like little blocks, so easily crushed beneath his thumb or his foot at a whim. They spent so much time down there, building them up, looking after them, crafting them with care, rejoicing in them, making movies about them, writing novels about them, and it gave him a sadistic satisfaction to know that he could always crush any one of them if he so desired. The one thing he couldn’t do was create them.
Jane
In kindergarten there was a little boy named Joe in my class. I’d never really been a violent one, and I rarely got in trouble, but one day it was play time.
Joe was busily working away at a chair made of blocks, and by impulse I suppose, I crept up behind him and shoved him into what he had gotten so far. I don’t remember why, and neither does he, but for the rest of my life I’ll remember the thrill of that push. Never since then did I hurt anyone. (No matter how much they deserved it.)
Larisa
are in the road as roadblocks but tiny are some that children build and take enormous joy from bashing down with fist or bat. Our body blocks the sun
shane
the blocks are stacked in the center of the room
lazily atop each other
but put there with purpose:
enjoyment of the cheapest kind.
self-enjoyment.
and i can’t help but wonder
where my self-enjoyment is now
wandering amid
some blocks in a preschool.
Rebecca
blocks of data streaming through my head right now clamoring for attention.
Shandar Junaid
building blocks are useless to me. I have never cared for them, never played with them, and definitely have never desired to own many. I don’t know why children care about stacking small plastic or wooden blocks so much. There is no point. There is no goal, or reward, or even a sense of self satisfaction, because they are just blocks.
Tiera
As a young kid, I loved blocks. Bright colored cubes, stacking. What would I build today? My favorite thing was to build myself a castle and a kingdom to reign over. I would command block subjects and eat block tea.
RSC
When I was little I would always play with blocks, I think they actually taught me how to read. I would spell out long words with them that would even amaze my mother. I didn’t know I was even learning.
Alexis
Building blocks.
Mental blocks.
City blocks.
Can a city block? If the mind blocks, with what do we build?
The place looked rundown. There was a car up on blocks in the front yard, the screen door was hanging by one hinge, and the porch looked like it would give way if it was stepped on. But this wasn’t a social call. I had a heart to repossess and a little thing like a wobbly porch wasn’t going to stop me.
Build a world. They create a foundation, or obstruct your journey? Are you sure that you can block your mind from wandering?
blocks
building blocks, and little blocks of houses. suburbia taking over. all the little blocks looking the same, all the little blocking holding the same things. same people, same furniture, same dogs, same genetically eningeered food. blocks of the same thing. over and over and over and over….
Fear blocks our dreams. That is all it comes down to when we fail to go after our hearts desire. There are only two real emotions: fear and love. You either serve one or the other at any moment in life. Be aware and chose carefully.
building blocks in the hand of a child, create the cities we live in, reside in, work in, play in, fuck in, and die in. building blocks with letters on the side, filled with nostalgia and old times. building blocks stacked high and never worth knocking down. building blocks call for memory making and innovation.
blocks are barriers. Things that keep people from doing what they love. They keep people safe and sorry. They doint want you to go out on a ledge. They want to keep you inside. Lonley and Dark
I have a block schedule at school.
Its pretty cool. Yeah….
I LOVE BUILDING BLOCKS
they are what i live for.
you should play with them some time.
yup. anywho I think that games with blocks are cool
like cuberunner
pretty sick
anyway bye…………………………………………………………………
its still letting me write even though my times up?
stupid website.
cool.
I started by placing the blocks in a random order around the house. Just to see what my family would say. I placed maybe fifty and no one noticed them.
blocks. lego blocks. the colorful memories of my childhood. i can remember one afternoon, seemingly not too long ago, but precisely 8 years ago… when these same lego blocks introduced me to one of my best friends. and now she’s moving to wisconsin… where are the lego blocks when i need them?
When I was a kid I used to love looking at the wooden blocks. they had numbers, letters, animals and they smelled nice. they made a great sound when you clapped them together.
Built high and strong, in all sorts of shapes and designs, I create the shape of my world. When the foundation lacks the appropriate strength, or when my elbow inadvertently gets in the way–when the blocks tumble to the ground, I look at the new patterns emerging, I take a deep breath, and I begin again.
This is not a loss. It is not a set-back. It is just a step in the process. Step by step, piece by piece, block by block, I am building the future I desire. The future I deserve.
i start to wonder why in the world i am doing this but as it crossed my mind over and over i knew that i could not fail and found my self wanting to write about blocks. blocks are all different some tall some short.
My head, my talent, my hopes, my arteries, my relationship with my father-in-law…blocks…
i like blocks i like building blocks hahaha
Blocks are piled high everywhere I look. I can just barely make out a tall building rising over the mountainious pieces of cement. I scramble for a hold on one of the larger blocks, only to fall once more.
The little girl giggles as she stacks her wooden blocks on top of one another. Her soft blond ringlets bounce as she claps her hands, happy with what she has made. “Mama! See!” she calls, only to be met with silence. “Mama?”
the blocks are stalked
they sit there,
they don’t move,
they expect you to move them,
to build them up,
to place them neatly in a row,
to form a word, a thought, an entire vision out of blocks.
They don’t move, they wait for you, for you to place them neatly in a row.
Blocks and fruition, yes we are aware. Carriages pull our tides, left then right, and tossed us about. Scattered and torn, we scramble to our fragile minds, desperate for a hold. There’s nothing told, nothing to hold onto rather and now we have nothing more to rely upon. Words long devalued, we tried, at least… we tried.
blocks building up,
one on top of the other in my mind
no time to stack them orderly in the back of my mind.
They stand precariously dead center.
The blocks that i have had to over come this lifetime were many. I invite the daily challenge.
building blocks of life.
pain. family. school.
seriously, that about sums up how each person is shaped.
but also how you deal with them..
i guess we all have our crutches. mine is moving on and growing. well i mean i move on and grow but on a very slow timescale.
My sister had a box of building blocks she kept under the stairs. Whenever I asked to play with them, she asked me for the secret word. “Penguin” I’d say chipperly, and she told me that was why I could never be an architect. Whenever I see the architects at my school, I wonder if they knew the secret word. I wonder if they said something more intelligent.
4 blocks were placed upon eachother forming a crude make-shift tower. Next to the pile of blocks was the carcass of the pet cat. Next to Fluffy was an array of knives and cutting utensils. The baby had no qualm with gutting the cat. He didn’t know what evil was.
blocks of ice city blocks. and ironically enough, writers blocks. Blocks are uniform not chaotic
there were building blocks on the floor. letters numbers. we made words and then knocked them over. we watched as they made new words. and then we rebuilt. we made cities out of letters. towns out of numbers.
I used to play with blocks on my grandma’s front porch. Sitting in front of the door, I could be in the middle of all conversations while still staying in my own childhood world. I could listen to the smoker’s talking about farms. I could listen to the mom’s talking about cooking.
my baby brother likes to play with blocks. he can spend hours at a time playing with blocks. he get angry when he knocks the blocks over. hes so cute when he plays with blocks. i love my baby brother and his blocks. blocks.
The blocks are orange and red and they tumble down onto your head. Blocks of large and blocks of small, there are just too many so they fall. I hate these blocks, I think they want my soul. Good thing I don’t have one anymore.
It’s impossible to imagine those colorful wooden cubes could be synonymous with obstacle, with something I’ll have to avoid or conquer. Sucks to be stuck.
Building blocks, childhood pastime
Blocks, you can set them up anyway you want
Dont let it bother you, break down the blocks in your life
Something to break.
To him, their grand, magnificent cities were like little blocks, so easily crushed beneath his thumb or his foot at a whim. They spent so much time down there, building them up, looking after them, crafting them with care, rejoicing in them, making movies about them, writing novels about them, and it gave him a sadistic satisfaction to know that he could always crush any one of them if he so desired. The one thing he couldn’t do was create them.
In kindergarten there was a little boy named Joe in my class. I’d never really been a violent one, and I rarely got in trouble, but one day it was play time.
Joe was busily working away at a chair made of blocks, and by impulse I suppose, I crept up behind him and shoved him into what he had gotten so far. I don’t remember why, and neither does he, but for the rest of my life I’ll remember the thrill of that push. Never since then did I hurt anyone. (No matter how much they deserved it.)
are in the road as roadblocks but tiny are some that children build and take enormous joy from bashing down with fist or bat. Our body blocks the sun
the blocks are stacked in the center of the room
lazily atop each other
but put there with purpose:
enjoyment of the cheapest kind.
self-enjoyment.
and i can’t help but wonder
where my self-enjoyment is now
wandering amid
some blocks in a preschool.
blocks of data streaming through my head right now clamoring for attention.
building blocks are useless to me. I have never cared for them, never played with them, and definitely have never desired to own many. I don’t know why children care about stacking small plastic or wooden blocks so much. There is no point. There is no goal, or reward, or even a sense of self satisfaction, because they are just blocks.
As a young kid, I loved blocks. Bright colored cubes, stacking. What would I build today? My favorite thing was to build myself a castle and a kingdom to reign over. I would command block subjects and eat block tea.
When I was little I would always play with blocks, I think they actually taught me how to read. I would spell out long words with them that would even amaze my mother. I didn’t know I was even learning.
Building blocks.
Mental blocks.
City blocks.
Can a city block? If the mind blocks, with what do we build?
Uninhibited inspiration embodies divinity.