I think about circles all the time: circle of life, circle of thought, circle of creativity… No matter what I do it feels like there is always a return to the starting place.
Paige BW
The circles flow across my vision. Diffent colors. Big and small. I don’t know what’s going on. I can only circles no background. I don’t feel anything, like I’m floating in space. I slowly start to feel my fingers, after a while I can move them up and down. The circles in my vision subside. Now I can feel my hands, my wrists, my arms. All of the sudden the growing feeling in my body stops, ‘not so fast darling’ a low husk voice murmals.
Elise
He drew a circle in the sand with his forefinger. It pleased him when he was done; he made another circle interlocking that one, then another. When he had five he began to hum the Olympics anthem.
I see circles around me.
Their roundness makes me dizzy.
As the world spin around me, I wept.
Understanding the unending life that cycles completely.
I truly understand that nothing ever ends.
I stared at the circles painted along the sidewalk. One after another, creating a mysterious path that only I could see. The were linked together, intertwined; and were illuminated by a spotlight from somewhere above my head. These circles….why couldn’t anyone else see them?
Le cirque, le cirque tourne en rond autour de cercles concentriques. Les cercles du bois, de la foule et des draps tombant le long des murs. Le cercle de la vie, de la danse, du temps, tous mélangés dans ce cercle criant et hurlant de couleurs et de jeu. Les lumières dansent, les chevaux tournent et la foule applaudit.
Superdena
here we are, going round and round
the Ferris wheel, and your eyes
are like circles
maybe its because i treasure you so,
place you in a frozen kaleidescope
let time, flow in circles
I keep going round and round in circles — in my thoughts, in my words, in my actions.
It’s as if I do not want to exit it despite feeling like escaping.
Shweta
The bear circles the captive heroes, maw dripping with saliva. It looks hungry. Its rib bones are clearly defined under its skin, and its fur is patchy in places, making it look a little sickly. Even so, the bear is nearly twice as large as Crosik, the largest of their group, and the slow circles it was making left the heroes shaking with nervous energy.
I don’t know why we’re talking about this again. The words wind up meaning nothing if they’re repeated over and over without actual weight. We’re going around in circles, and we’re kicking up dirt and rain as we do so. The storm is thundering overhead, and I just want to go home. But you won’t quit. Not until you’ve said your piece a thousand times, as if it’ll change my mind.
I’ll collect my things in the morning. You’ll have to argue with the empty bedroom instead,
Belinda Roddie
We all run in circles
Chasing our self-righteous tails
Blaming the -isms when there’s only lack of ability
There’s no progress made
Only circles
Shadow
She is made of circles. Her eyes, her curls, her hips and her breasts. Her constellation freckles and her smart mouth. She is a rounded personality and cleverly hidden corners.
Sebastian Harper
I thought I was fast, but she ran circles around me.
Literally.
She lapped me twice and won the race by far.
“How can she be human?” I said to no one in particular. (Spoiler Alert: she wasn’t)
Life is full of circles. Lots of rounds. Circles of life. Circles of influence. Circles of love. Circles vs. cycles. A cycle is actually a circle. Circles never end. They go around and around and around. Like love, they never end.
Tenley Smith
Daniel frowned. The wasp in his hand hopped around and stung him a billion times with all the combined force of its millennia of rage, and he scowled and gave it a poke. It stung his finger. He giggled and popped his hand over his mouth and swallowed the insect; it stung all the way down.
It’s impossible to see a field of freshly fallen snow and not think “I need to put some tracks through that.” The natural inclination becomes one path along the outside, followed by another and then another. It’s not until you’re cold, sweaty and exhausted that you enjoy the circles you’ve made.
Chad
I did circles in the mall, passing handbags, donuts, electronics, and makeup with monotonous regularity. The guy was supposed to have been here fifteen minutes ago. I felt my shopaholic tendencies willing the money to leap from my pocket into a dozen different places, but then what would I have left to spend on weed?
I think about circles all the time: circle of life, circle of thought, circle of creativity… No matter what I do it feels like there is always a return to the starting place.
The circles flow across my vision. Diffent colors. Big and small. I don’t know what’s going on. I can only circles no background. I don’t feel anything, like I’m floating in space. I slowly start to feel my fingers, after a while I can move them up and down. The circles in my vision subside. Now I can feel my hands, my wrists, my arms. All of the sudden the growing feeling in my body stops, ‘not so fast darling’ a low husk voice murmals.
He drew a circle in the sand with his forefinger. It pleased him when he was done; he made another circle interlocking that one, then another. When he had five he began to hum the Olympics anthem.
I see circles around me.
Their roundness makes me dizzy.
As the world spin around me, I wept.
Understanding the unending life that cycles completely.
I truly understand that nothing ever ends.
I stared at the circles painted along the sidewalk. One after another, creating a mysterious path that only I could see. The were linked together, intertwined; and were illuminated by a spotlight from somewhere above my head. These circles….why couldn’t anyone else see them?
Le cirque, le cirque tourne en rond autour de cercles concentriques. Les cercles du bois, de la foule et des draps tombant le long des murs. Le cercle de la vie, de la danse, du temps, tous mélangés dans ce cercle criant et hurlant de couleurs et de jeu. Les lumières dansent, les chevaux tournent et la foule applaudit.
here we are, going round and round
the Ferris wheel, and your eyes
are like circles
maybe its because i treasure you so,
place you in a frozen kaleidescope
let time, flow in circles
I keep going round and round in circles — in my thoughts, in my words, in my actions.
It’s as if I do not want to exit it despite feeling like escaping.
The bear circles the captive heroes, maw dripping with saliva. It looks hungry. Its rib bones are clearly defined under its skin, and its fur is patchy in places, making it look a little sickly. Even so, the bear is nearly twice as large as Crosik, the largest of their group, and the slow circles it was making left the heroes shaking with nervous energy.
I don’t know why we’re talking about this again. The words wind up meaning nothing if they’re repeated over and over without actual weight. We’re going around in circles, and we’re kicking up dirt and rain as we do so. The storm is thundering overhead, and I just want to go home. But you won’t quit. Not until you’ve said your piece a thousand times, as if it’ll change my mind.
I’ll collect my things in the morning. You’ll have to argue with the empty bedroom instead,
We all run in circles
Chasing our self-righteous tails
Blaming the -isms when there’s only lack of ability
There’s no progress made
Only circles
She is made of circles. Her eyes, her curls, her hips and her breasts. Her constellation freckles and her smart mouth. She is a rounded personality and cleverly hidden corners.
I thought I was fast, but she ran circles around me.
Literally.
She lapped me twice and won the race by far.
“How can she be human?” I said to no one in particular. (Spoiler Alert: she wasn’t)
Life is full of circles. Lots of rounds. Circles of life. Circles of influence. Circles of love. Circles vs. cycles. A cycle is actually a circle. Circles never end. They go around and around and around. Like love, they never end.
Daniel frowned. The wasp in his hand hopped around and stung him a billion times with all the combined force of its millennia of rage, and he scowled and gave it a poke. It stung his finger. He giggled and popped his hand over his mouth and swallowed the insect; it stung all the way down.
It’s impossible to see a field of freshly fallen snow and not think “I need to put some tracks through that.” The natural inclination becomes one path along the outside, followed by another and then another. It’s not until you’re cold, sweaty and exhausted that you enjoy the circles you’ve made.
I did circles in the mall, passing handbags, donuts, electronics, and makeup with monotonous regularity. The guy was supposed to have been here fifteen minutes ago. I felt my shopaholic tendencies willing the money to leap from my pocket into a dozen different places, but then what would I have left to spend on weed?