Her hair was lightly feathered by the time she was done preparing for her stupid date with the kid down the street. She refused to believe anything would come out of it so she slipped into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, not wanting to impress anyone.
Tara
he was tarred and feathered even before he could stand up. They assialed him with such speed that our hero was lost for breath, and lost in his own sense of bewildermen. How could one of the most sophisticated operatives in the King’s army be laid low by these lowly cannibalistic, sub human species that one would have difficulty calling man. But prevailed they did and this was to be his last thought.
Mark
On the battered bureau in his bedroom, he had left a glittery, feathered boa. No one knew that it was his; he was ashamed to admit that to people. At night, when his parents were at work, he would wrap the feathered scarf around his neck three times and pose seductively in front of the mirror.
Melanie
The beautiful girl stepped into the spotlight, parading around for the audience’s pleasure. Only the feathers of some unfortunately bright bird separated her body from the hungry eyes of her viewers. When she steps off stage, she falls to her knees and cries. Not for her own loss of self-respect, but for the feathered beauty who gave its life for her worthless cause.
Link
i waited for you, and all i found was one lonely feather.
kelle
the feathered creature wanted to find its way back to the nest but sadly the nest had been destroyed.
Destroyed by what you ask? the demon who ate his mother for breakfast.
what a strange meal of the day… Breakfast. we wake up and the first thing we think to do is eat?
why not read a book or draw a picture? why eat? well
its the best way to start a day when you need more Nrg supplies
RAMbble
hey mom this is cool because you have to write about whatever word comes up and only have sixty seconds to do so.
niamh
I asked to have my hair feathered and the stylist nodded. She confidently picked up the shears and dragged them through my hair pulling and tugging until I had a downy feather look upon my head.
Eveseer
all birds are feathered
w nyamayaro
the gold finches outside the kitchen window are vicious. i mean, vicious little yellow monsters. dive bombing like itty bitty fighter jets. i wonder what happened to one-foot Phil. i haven’t seen him at the feeder for a while. hwere did he go? did the cat get him. did he migrate to czechoslovakia?
ninjaskwerrell
feathered wings in flight with no regard to time or space; no worries, just flight. winged dreams and an unbelievable peace as each wing stroke breaks through the air and leaves behind just a whisper of what is to come. feathered wings in flight; beauty in motion.
Kim Priske
once my cat killed a bird and brought it inside, and we couldn’t find its carcass for a year but we kept finding its feathers everywhere. gross.
grace h
When I was about five or six, my best friend Heather and I were obsessed with having feathered bangs. Coming home from a camping trip, my mother pulled off the highway to a salon to have my hair cut and my bangs feathered. The stylist was a middle-aged man, the first man I had ever seen working in this profession.
Maggie S
I saw a bird that was feathered. It was soft and had a beautifull glow about it. The wing span was an absilute dreaming span. I saw the bird take flight just as a feather had fallen from it and landed right on the side of the blanket I was sitting on. Ipicked it up and slid it thru my fingers and passed it down my arm and it was the softest silkiest feeling I had evr felt.
Sassy
i gently ran my fingers through his soft brown curls. they feathered around my hand and their warmth touched me deep inside. i looked into his deep blue eyes and realized that i was in love. so so in love! and there was nothing that i could do to stop it no matter how bad i wanted to.
jenn
Birds are our cheery feathered friends. They are said to “feather” their nests and some birds do, plucking from their breasts downy lining to warm their chicks.
Clarissa
soft blond… i used to run my hand over her head to smooth the fair, feathered hair. i loved her hair the most and how it smelled when i pressed my face in to give her a kiss good night. my sister was all i had
Grace
with feathers
rahul ydav
feathered. reminds me of crew, which i just started at Umass, and something about how the oar is facing, i think turned upwards and resting on the water is feathered. and it also reminds me of archery, which i’ve grown up around thanks to my dad.
rachael ferranti.
after being tarred, such a funny looking punishment. Farrah’s hair in the 70s. It’s odd to see her age. On that poster, she’ll always be young and healthy.
sailor
Gratitude
Balqis
the ship wreck was feathered due to constant rain and battering of waves. it looked old and rotted.
it gave a sense of mistery and awe about it.
Satish
My fine feathered friend . . . I hate how some words go together automatically in my mind, because they are always the most banal words, in the most banal combinations, recycled sitcom dialogue, regurgitated writing that belongs to some ad exec. . . everything is mediocre.
a.
The mattress was feathered. Does that make sense? Full of feathers. It was soft, white, plush, plump, the most comfortably mattress there ever was. Sometimes when you jumped on it, a feather would escape the fabric and slowly float from sky to floor.
Alexa
Young and Keen (Translation in Portuguese)
Madelon
once you apply the hot tar the next step is roll in a pile of feathers already plucked from the neighbors cockatoo. What an ugly bird when they’re naked!!! It may take a little time for the tar to totally set, but once
sherry
had a visitor today
saw him on my lawn
he wriggled and scurried away
feathered?
NO
a bushy tail and grey!
soulbrush
it is something which has lots of feathers
shushita
feathered is a word which brings to mind birds, that particular species… it also makes one think of quilts and mattresses filled with feathers, or even a single feather floating down from the sky.
it holds a similarity to the word fathered which makes one think of a father bird.
Angela
Her feathered hair fell into her face, hiding her eyes. I knew then that I never wanted to separated from those eyes again. They saw every bit of me: every flaw, every failure, every piece of beauty I had to offer and they still loved me. I wanted to look into those eyes forever.
Jessica
Your bone was feathered. The steel rod went straight through, and in my horrified state, I passed out halfway through my mental breakdown. If I wasn’t such a pussy, maybe you wouldn’t have died that day.
Dan Stern
wirds wing
while pointing some achievement
soft thing
amit
i miss the feathered hear i had in the 80’s. i remember wanting to look like the cool girls who had feathers that met in the back. i would spend hours looking at myself in the mirror and trying to get my hair to look just “so”. now, as i look back at photos, i cringe at how terrible that hairstyle and that period was. lots of feathers, lots of hairspray. ick. i’m so glad that style is out!
angela
Blink. blink. blank. blank page. blank page flickering before you. like a taunt – you can’t write, or a goad – you’re just like the rest of them. Its too cliche to be anything more. there is no meaning. there is nothing. fiction is history and visaversa.
Erika
little birds that flitter and fly across the blue plain. and i sit and pen my thoughts with this quill, seated on bedding made of goose feathers.
rhyming with weathered, my feathered friend, who has flown across many seas and vales, returns home, to her little ones, who are still to sprout just that – feathers.
i think i’m healing. sprouting wings. feathering.
amulya
i have a feathered cap and a hat. it is very girly but like it very much. I have a cock’s feathered hat and a bull’s feathered cap. It is very nice and brings very admirable glances. I guess its just me…no its the feathered hat
thomas
a feathered bird came into work the other day, which surprised us all. It looked blue, although others suggested it was red. I hate to say it, but i actually thought it was green. Nevermind! Tomorrow I’m hoping for green gelati, so I can secretly be reminded of that bird. I’m sure it plays a special part in my life, even if I haven’t realised it yet. Or maybe I have.
Hannah
Fell me down
To a wrote word gone sour
What have you done to this candle
It’s all black all over
The spoon in your hands
Is digging out my soul
With paperclip beauties
Pens on the dial
Zelriku
White birds shrieking from the top of the grey tower, their wild cries laying claim to the uncaring world around them. Carrying them, flying, on high, riding the winds beneath the infinite vastness that is Sky, to freedom, travelling, wandering anywhere in the world, over sea and stone and wood and hill. Like angels’ wings, vast snowy canopies giving the ultimate uxury of freedom
eric
the wings curling on the edge of the wind like a secret place where sounds are vibration and wind is a mess curling hairs over skins over hearts over minds bodies souls floating endless matter all whole in total silence, the plumed mass of great dark dense gray matter blooms above my wounds and others’ wombs intombing our souls for guns and zooms and lenses and roses and figures stopping for change on a dark corner of a damp street rife with sickness ash and death a testiment to a life unlived, a plague inescapable undeniable, a death only died through living packed lies, a premade godhead a figurine statute, a map of ideas to lead us to heaven and oil and change and stop the madness, just quit me now
B
Feathered things that actually exist aren’t that great. Feathered things that don’t exist, though, have the potential of being pretty awesome. One example of this is Harpies. They’re relentless attack machines packaged like bird-women. I’m not to sure about those old timey Harpies with three boobs, though.
Her hair was lightly feathered by the time she was done preparing for her stupid date with the kid down the street. She refused to believe anything would come out of it so she slipped into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, not wanting to impress anyone.
he was tarred and feathered even before he could stand up. They assialed him with such speed that our hero was lost for breath, and lost in his own sense of bewildermen. How could one of the most sophisticated operatives in the King’s army be laid low by these lowly cannibalistic, sub human species that one would have difficulty calling man. But prevailed they did and this was to be his last thought.
On the battered bureau in his bedroom, he had left a glittery, feathered boa. No one knew that it was his; he was ashamed to admit that to people. At night, when his parents were at work, he would wrap the feathered scarf around his neck three times and pose seductively in front of the mirror.
The beautiful girl stepped into the spotlight, parading around for the audience’s pleasure. Only the feathers of some unfortunately bright bird separated her body from the hungry eyes of her viewers. When she steps off stage, she falls to her knees and cries. Not for her own loss of self-respect, but for the feathered beauty who gave its life for her worthless cause.
i waited for you, and all i found was one lonely feather.
the feathered creature wanted to find its way back to the nest but sadly the nest had been destroyed.
Destroyed by what you ask? the demon who ate his mother for breakfast.
what a strange meal of the day… Breakfast. we wake up and the first thing we think to do is eat?
why not read a book or draw a picture? why eat? well
its the best way to start a day when you need more Nrg supplies
RAMbble
hey mom this is cool because you have to write about whatever word comes up and only have sixty seconds to do so.
I asked to have my hair feathered and the stylist nodded. She confidently picked up the shears and dragged them through my hair pulling and tugging until I had a downy feather look upon my head.
all birds are feathered
the gold finches outside the kitchen window are vicious. i mean, vicious little yellow monsters. dive bombing like itty bitty fighter jets. i wonder what happened to one-foot Phil. i haven’t seen him at the feeder for a while. hwere did he go? did the cat get him. did he migrate to czechoslovakia?
feathered wings in flight with no regard to time or space; no worries, just flight. winged dreams and an unbelievable peace as each wing stroke breaks through the air and leaves behind just a whisper of what is to come. feathered wings in flight; beauty in motion.
once my cat killed a bird and brought it inside, and we couldn’t find its carcass for a year but we kept finding its feathers everywhere. gross.
When I was about five or six, my best friend Heather and I were obsessed with having feathered bangs. Coming home from a camping trip, my mother pulled off the highway to a salon to have my hair cut and my bangs feathered. The stylist was a middle-aged man, the first man I had ever seen working in this profession.
I saw a bird that was feathered. It was soft and had a beautifull glow about it. The wing span was an absilute dreaming span. I saw the bird take flight just as a feather had fallen from it and landed right on the side of the blanket I was sitting on. Ipicked it up and slid it thru my fingers and passed it down my arm and it was the softest silkiest feeling I had evr felt.
i gently ran my fingers through his soft brown curls. they feathered around my hand and their warmth touched me deep inside. i looked into his deep blue eyes and realized that i was in love. so so in love! and there was nothing that i could do to stop it no matter how bad i wanted to.
Birds are our cheery feathered friends. They are said to “feather” their nests and some birds do, plucking from their breasts downy lining to warm their chicks.
soft blond… i used to run my hand over her head to smooth the fair, feathered hair. i loved her hair the most and how it smelled when i pressed my face in to give her a kiss good night. my sister was all i had
with feathers
feathered. reminds me of crew, which i just started at Umass, and something about how the oar is facing, i think turned upwards and resting on the water is feathered. and it also reminds me of archery, which i’ve grown up around thanks to my dad.
after being tarred, such a funny looking punishment. Farrah’s hair in the 70s. It’s odd to see her age. On that poster, she’ll always be young and healthy.
Gratitude
the ship wreck was feathered due to constant rain and battering of waves. it looked old and rotted.
it gave a sense of mistery and awe about it.
My fine feathered friend . . . I hate how some words go together automatically in my mind, because they are always the most banal words, in the most banal combinations, recycled sitcom dialogue, regurgitated writing that belongs to some ad exec. . . everything is mediocre.
The mattress was feathered. Does that make sense? Full of feathers. It was soft, white, plush, plump, the most comfortably mattress there ever was. Sometimes when you jumped on it, a feather would escape the fabric and slowly float from sky to floor.
Young and Keen (Translation in Portuguese)
once you apply the hot tar the next step is roll in a pile of feathers already plucked from the neighbors cockatoo. What an ugly bird when they’re naked!!! It may take a little time for the tar to totally set, but once
had a visitor today
saw him on my lawn
he wriggled and scurried away
feathered?
NO
a bushy tail and grey!
it is something which has lots of feathers
feathered is a word which brings to mind birds, that particular species… it also makes one think of quilts and mattresses filled with feathers, or even a single feather floating down from the sky.
it holds a similarity to the word fathered which makes one think of a father bird.
Her feathered hair fell into her face, hiding her eyes. I knew then that I never wanted to separated from those eyes again. They saw every bit of me: every flaw, every failure, every piece of beauty I had to offer and they still loved me. I wanted to look into those eyes forever.
Your bone was feathered. The steel rod went straight through, and in my horrified state, I passed out halfway through my mental breakdown. If I wasn’t such a pussy, maybe you wouldn’t have died that day.
wirds wing
while pointing some achievement
soft thing
i miss the feathered hear i had in the 80’s. i remember wanting to look like the cool girls who had feathers that met in the back. i would spend hours looking at myself in the mirror and trying to get my hair to look just “so”. now, as i look back at photos, i cringe at how terrible that hairstyle and that period was. lots of feathers, lots of hairspray. ick. i’m so glad that style is out!
Blink. blink. blank. blank page. blank page flickering before you. like a taunt – you can’t write, or a goad – you’re just like the rest of them. Its too cliche to be anything more. there is no meaning. there is nothing. fiction is history and visaversa.
little birds that flitter and fly across the blue plain. and i sit and pen my thoughts with this quill, seated on bedding made of goose feathers.
rhyming with weathered, my feathered friend, who has flown across many seas and vales, returns home, to her little ones, who are still to sprout just that – feathers.
i think i’m healing. sprouting wings. feathering.
i have a feathered cap and a hat. it is very girly but like it very much. I have a cock’s feathered hat and a bull’s feathered cap. It is very nice and brings very admirable glances. I guess its just me…no its the feathered hat
a feathered bird came into work the other day, which surprised us all. It looked blue, although others suggested it was red. I hate to say it, but i actually thought it was green. Nevermind! Tomorrow I’m hoping for green gelati, so I can secretly be reminded of that bird. I’m sure it plays a special part in my life, even if I haven’t realised it yet. Or maybe I have.
Fell me down
To a wrote word gone sour
What have you done to this candle
It’s all black all over
The spoon in your hands
Is digging out my soul
With paperclip beauties
Pens on the dial
White birds shrieking from the top of the grey tower, their wild cries laying claim to the uncaring world around them. Carrying them, flying, on high, riding the winds beneath the infinite vastness that is Sky, to freedom, travelling, wandering anywhere in the world, over sea and stone and wood and hill. Like angels’ wings, vast snowy canopies giving the ultimate uxury of freedom
the wings curling on the edge of the wind like a secret place where sounds are vibration and wind is a mess curling hairs over skins over hearts over minds bodies souls floating endless matter all whole in total silence, the plumed mass of great dark dense gray matter blooms above my wounds and others’ wombs intombing our souls for guns and zooms and lenses and roses and figures stopping for change on a dark corner of a damp street rife with sickness ash and death a testiment to a life unlived, a plague inescapable undeniable, a death only died through living packed lies, a premade godhead a figurine statute, a map of ideas to lead us to heaven and oil and change and stop the madness, just quit me now
Feathered things that actually exist aren’t that great. Feathered things that don’t exist, though, have the potential of being pretty awesome. One example of this is Harpies. They’re relentless attack machines packaged like bird-women. I’m not to sure about those old timey Harpies with three boobs, though.