what more can I say? She was born with her plumage on the inside like the rest of us, nobody wants to show their true colours these days. She made an effort though. You have to give her credit for that.
lonelymonster
with a whim of faith left in my head i have no where left to turn
the feathered youth is stuck in me, along with a polite burn
i have no where to go therefore nothing left to return
jeff rosenberg
birds are beautiful, all varieties, all breeds, flying, soaring, pecking, always searching for the next place to land, their next stoop. If only as humans we could be that free, just to pick up ourselves and go.
Suzanne
the sky is dying. falling, broken. it’s been years since I’ve felt the wind against my face, and that may be the last I ever did.
Josh Miller
Icarus clawing at a moon more like.
But somehow it’s always burning him.
Bastard doesn’t know when mediocrity is a happy home.
Colleen Reeves
Goddammit. Now
I’m only twisted
around someone else’s poem
and your meter’s turning me
an angry anxious orange.
Colleen Reeves
I think of pillows through the clouds of empathy but they stretch through the endless skies of demoralizing insignificance. I am lost in the fog of the falling drops of life but as they splash across the cool ground I feel nothing but the softness of dead sound.
Rich
the brush was feathered, the window was faded. I thought I saw a figure on the beach outside, waiting by the water but when I r
jessica
and bang!
bangs are dead.
shane!
I’d never want to be tarred and feathered. It happened to lots of people. Now I can’t write anymore because this is too grim.
jonathan
feathered hair and a feathered smile
she turned around and smiled in a way i wish i ever could
the sun was nothing in comparison and the sun shone about her as if she was the sole reason for its existence.
what a beautiful life
what a beautiful love
what a beautiful achievement to be something to someone.
Dana
one time i was feathered by a bird. it was utterly the worst experience of my life. he came over with his whimsy arms and just put his so-called hands all over my face. it was stupid. i hated it. and i wanted to feather him back. luckily, i had feathers in my pocket. so i threw it in his face. therefore, him getting feathered.
sheri
she feathered her bangs and looked into his eyes. his smile was alluring and comforting. he held the cigarette out to her. he was the cutest boy at her highschool. she wanted to take it so bad. she wanted to make him happy and keep him smiling. but she knew in her heart she couldn’t live with herself if she did.
ann man
my hair is a feathered lion main from the seventies. sometimes i feel like its all in hair. thats where the strength comes from. the roar will only come if the hair is feathered. my fine feathered friend. you know what? i would like to eat some popcorn now. yeah. sounds good to me. would you like to join me?
Jennifer
How softly you fly away to places i can only dream of seeing. you flap your feathered wings and disappear into the sky. Fill me with wonder and give me hope that there is something else. Something beautiful and magical. Something that makes everything seem okay and worth it.
kasia
a feathered bed for me,
not a bed of rock or stone –
please send satin sheets,
if it’s not to much extra bother.
cindymaywho@hotmail.com
bird
birds feathers
duster
blue jay
eagle
falcon
duck
goose
geese
humming bird
owl
robbin
kiwi bird
hawk
Person who thought it said to name things with feathers...
a feathered fling. soft as dewy breezes on hot skin when the salty waves lap at ankles like lace. feathered senses. the soft midsummer nights where you sip from a cocounut and forget what you were before. feathered feet — free of restraints to go explore the wonderful world of grit and careless sand and the tiny seashells that threaten to cut into your hardened toes.
chiquita
sleek and slender. I don’t know why I thought of being dead when I saw it, but that’s what I thought of. A cold, rotting corpse. Just lying there. A bird sang, and brought me to my senses. I looked behind me. The swan sailed to the furthest side of the pond.
Writer Dad
I crawled into the warmth of my feathered down comforter. I curled my legs up to my chest and tucked my chin behind my knees. No better way to wake up on a winter day.
alleana
Feathered. It means something soft, something sensitive to touch. It makes your fingertips tingle and tickles your nose. Feathered is when something is so find that it blows gently in the breeze. Soft. Pure. Feathered.
Sarah
I had feathered my feather of brother did I? Oh my, I must have, Because the feather did die! Good god Must I? Never oh never will i be feathered.
grace
back when their were racial problems in the US, white men would tar and feather the black people in their community. they would pull them out in theri front yards and pour hot tar all over them and dump a pile of feathers on top of them. this was not only painful, but humilit
Alyssa Cronin
I was walking down the street and saw a man with a hat, it was fully feathered and I asked him, “Sir, where do you intend to go with this hat of yours?” He replied “I am traveling to my homeland.” I assumed he was of Indian decent. I continued on my way along the untraveled road of winds and trees.
Samantha
I used to love women with their hair feathered, and teased. Now it’s just old, out of style and no longer attractive. But, i think back on the women that I wanted so bad in high school, with the feathered hair, the twinkling eyes and teasing demeanor. i long for those days.
Keith
no se loq dice ahi, no me acuerdo, mierda, quiero escrbir bien, puta, me faltó una i, toy drogao, eso si, y ta de má pelaaaaaaaaa…. eee… eeee…..eeeeeeeeeeeeee…. quiero ser lester, de beackman… se escribe así???????? no seee, un día voy a probar acido y va a estar bueno porque voy a viajar y a soñar que tomo
nacho
Tarred and Featherd I ran from town like a conquistodor from angry natives…I had no choice.
zach
the hair i wore in the 70’s was feathered, as is a peacock’s plumage. the comb is a strange tool of
dave
feathered. feather head. indian or perhaps stupid. feather head. pillows, feathers. soft. but can become bullets if you can propell them fast enough feathers can kill all the stupid indians and feather heads alike. we need a really odd gun
Sarah
Feathers. Well, there you go. I dunno what to say about them. Duvets? Yeah, possibly duvets. I wonder if anyone else is thinking about duvets just now. I mean, therer are sooo many people in the world – someone else must be thinking about them surely? I feel sorry for all the people who dont have duvets. Sleeping in the streets, all cold.
Stu
Her hair was feathered in a certain way that made her look 20 years older than she was. It flipped out on the sides, tickling her ears and threatening her shiny lips. She looked at him, beckoning his advance. He glanced at her, willingly. Should he? Her feathered hair was calling. It was the 80’s. Everyone was doing it.
Mel
rolled around in tar and feathers placed on you
punishment
Allie
Feathered. hm. makes me think of the eighties. and their bangs. “now feather your hair, kids!” i would make a tim and eric reference in something like this. wow. Im not sure what much else there is to really say. unfortunately, i know i probably would have fallen into that feathered hair trap back in the day. i may have been born in the eighties, but damn.
Alison
one world. one race; human.
allison
Feathered is that coat the rich lady is wearing because she found herself a rich man. She’s such a whore she can get any man to buy her any feathered product she wants.
CookieMonster
fine feathered friend
are you my foe?
say you’ll be mine
til the end of
time’s up
you’ve flown the coop
and i’m left alone
a one-man band group
where have you flown to
amber
i was walking along the street and saw a bird in the air. Cool I thought, I would like to do that.
I then ran into someone I thought I knew when I wasn’t paying attention. I received a funny look and they moved on. Weird.
ron
My feathered friends in the backyard left five perfect eggs for us today. Light tan, all of them, one speckled a bit, must have been from the black one. The dinner omelet was vibrantly yellow, so much fluffier than store eggs. Backyard chickens have enriched our lives.
Sarah
Well, my many feathered friends…it’s one of those sayings my parents said all the time during my childhood that I took for granted — took as something everyone said, everyone knew. Now I know better. Now it, and the rest, are like our “thing.” It sets us apart; we know what we’re talking about — do?
Cindelles
flightless birds. claws. glistening skin plucked from glistening, taut bodies. where wings refer to breaded, unrecognisable shapes.
where flight is something confined to the boeing 747’s.
what more can I say? She was born with her plumage on the inside like the rest of us, nobody wants to show their true colours these days. She made an effort though. You have to give her credit for that.
with a whim of faith left in my head i have no where left to turn
the feathered youth is stuck in me, along with a polite burn
i have no where to go therefore nothing left to return
birds are beautiful, all varieties, all breeds, flying, soaring, pecking, always searching for the next place to land, their next stoop. If only as humans we could be that free, just to pick up ourselves and go.
the sky is dying. falling, broken. it’s been years since I’ve felt the wind against my face, and that may be the last I ever did.
Icarus clawing at a moon more like.
But somehow it’s always burning him.
Bastard doesn’t know when mediocrity is a happy home.
Goddammit. Now
I’m only twisted
around someone else’s poem
and your meter’s turning me
an angry anxious orange.
I think of pillows through the clouds of empathy but they stretch through the endless skies of demoralizing insignificance. I am lost in the fog of the falling drops of life but as they splash across the cool ground I feel nothing but the softness of dead sound.
the brush was feathered, the window was faded. I thought I saw a figure on the beach outside, waiting by the water but when I r
and bang!
bangs are dead.
I’d never want to be tarred and feathered. It happened to lots of people. Now I can’t write anymore because this is too grim.
feathered hair and a feathered smile
she turned around and smiled in a way i wish i ever could
the sun was nothing in comparison and the sun shone about her as if she was the sole reason for its existence.
what a beautiful life
what a beautiful love
what a beautiful achievement to be something to someone.
one time i was feathered by a bird. it was utterly the worst experience of my life. he came over with his whimsy arms and just put his so-called hands all over my face. it was stupid. i hated it. and i wanted to feather him back. luckily, i had feathers in my pocket. so i threw it in his face. therefore, him getting feathered.
she feathered her bangs and looked into his eyes. his smile was alluring and comforting. he held the cigarette out to her. he was the cutest boy at her highschool. she wanted to take it so bad. she wanted to make him happy and keep him smiling. but she knew in her heart she couldn’t live with herself if she did.
my hair is a feathered lion main from the seventies. sometimes i feel like its all in hair. thats where the strength comes from. the roar will only come if the hair is feathered. my fine feathered friend. you know what? i would like to eat some popcorn now. yeah. sounds good to me. would you like to join me?
How softly you fly away to places i can only dream of seeing. you flap your feathered wings and disappear into the sky. Fill me with wonder and give me hope that there is something else. Something beautiful and magical. Something that makes everything seem okay and worth it.
a feathered bed for me,
not a bed of rock or stone –
please send satin sheets,
if it’s not to much extra bother.
bird
birds feathers
duster
blue jay
eagle
falcon
duck
goose
geese
humming bird
owl
robbin
kiwi bird
hawk
a feathered fling. soft as dewy breezes on hot skin when the salty waves lap at ankles like lace. feathered senses. the soft midsummer nights where you sip from a cocounut and forget what you were before. feathered feet — free of restraints to go explore the wonderful world of grit and careless sand and the tiny seashells that threaten to cut into your hardened toes.
sleek and slender. I don’t know why I thought of being dead when I saw it, but that’s what I thought of. A cold, rotting corpse. Just lying there. A bird sang, and brought me to my senses. I looked behind me. The swan sailed to the furthest side of the pond.
I crawled into the warmth of my feathered down comforter. I curled my legs up to my chest and tucked my chin behind my knees. No better way to wake up on a winter day.
Feathered. It means something soft, something sensitive to touch. It makes your fingertips tingle and tickles your nose. Feathered is when something is so find that it blows gently in the breeze. Soft. Pure. Feathered.
I had feathered my feather of brother did I? Oh my, I must have, Because the feather did die! Good god Must I? Never oh never will i be feathered.
back when their were racial problems in the US, white men would tar and feather the black people in their community. they would pull them out in theri front yards and pour hot tar all over them and dump a pile of feathers on top of them. this was not only painful, but humilit
I was walking down the street and saw a man with a hat, it was fully feathered and I asked him, “Sir, where do you intend to go with this hat of yours?” He replied “I am traveling to my homeland.” I assumed he was of Indian decent. I continued on my way along the untraveled road of winds and trees.
I used to love women with their hair feathered, and teased. Now it’s just old, out of style and no longer attractive. But, i think back on the women that I wanted so bad in high school, with the feathered hair, the twinkling eyes and teasing demeanor. i long for those days.
no se loq dice ahi, no me acuerdo, mierda, quiero escrbir bien, puta, me faltó una i, toy drogao, eso si, y ta de má pelaaaaaaaaa…. eee… eeee…..eeeeeeeeeeeeee…. quiero ser lester, de beackman… se escribe así???????? no seee, un día voy a probar acido y va a estar bueno porque voy a viajar y a soñar que tomo
Tarred and Featherd I ran from town like a conquistodor from angry natives…I had no choice.
the hair i wore in the 70’s was feathered, as is a peacock’s plumage. the comb is a strange tool of
feathered. feather head. indian or perhaps stupid. feather head. pillows, feathers. soft. but can become bullets if you can propell them fast enough feathers can kill all the stupid indians and feather heads alike. we need a really odd gun
Feathers. Well, there you go. I dunno what to say about them. Duvets? Yeah, possibly duvets. I wonder if anyone else is thinking about duvets just now. I mean, therer are sooo many people in the world – someone else must be thinking about them surely? I feel sorry for all the people who dont have duvets. Sleeping in the streets, all cold.
Her hair was feathered in a certain way that made her look 20 years older than she was. It flipped out on the sides, tickling her ears and threatening her shiny lips. She looked at him, beckoning his advance. He glanced at her, willingly. Should he? Her feathered hair was calling. It was the 80’s. Everyone was doing it.
rolled around in tar and feathers placed on you
punishment
Feathered. hm. makes me think of the eighties. and their bangs. “now feather your hair, kids!” i would make a tim and eric reference in something like this. wow. Im not sure what much else there is to really say. unfortunately, i know i probably would have fallen into that feathered hair trap back in the day. i may have been born in the eighties, but damn.
one world. one race; human.
Feathered is that coat the rich lady is wearing because she found herself a rich man. She’s such a whore she can get any man to buy her any feathered product she wants.
fine feathered friend
are you my foe?
say you’ll be mine
til the end of
time’s up
you’ve flown the coop
and i’m left alone
a one-man band group
where have you flown to
i was walking along the street and saw a bird in the air. Cool I thought, I would like to do that.
I then ran into someone I thought I knew when I wasn’t paying attention. I received a funny look and they moved on. Weird.
My feathered friends in the backyard left five perfect eggs for us today. Light tan, all of them, one speckled a bit, must have been from the black one. The dinner omelet was vibrantly yellow, so much fluffier than store eggs. Backyard chickens have enriched our lives.
Well, my many feathered friends…it’s one of those sayings my parents said all the time during my childhood that I took for granted — took as something everyone said, everyone knew. Now I know better. Now it, and the rest, are like our “thing.” It sets us apart; we know what we’re talking about — do?
flightless birds. claws. glistening skin plucked from glistening, taut bodies. where wings refer to breaded, unrecognisable shapes.
where flight is something confined to the boeing 747’s.