gravel.. to build. to establish. to give foundation to. All great edifices have a modest beginning…. and the foundation of amazing things: the sea, a park, a castle, a home. pretty cool.
meg
the car races to finish line. he’s gonna win. the world is his oyster. one last curve to go. he skids. he crashes. he’s dead. the oyster is closed forever.
Anonymous
was stuck in her knee. had been there for six years. She tried not to think about it, of course, but there were some mornings (mostly when it rained) when she could feel it there, just under the layer of skin that had grown there.
“You could always have gone to the doctor when it happened.” her mother liked to say. Her mother, with the ten pinpricks in her left cheek from a pencil. The crazy neighbor had done it when she was twelve.
“You’re one to talk,” she said.
Amy
Gravel hurts when you fall and skin your knee. Once when I was a second or third grader in Catholic school, I was playing tag with my friends during recess. I was being chased by my friend Taylor down a hill. I looked behind me and he had disappeared. Shortly thereafter, I realized he had run into someone after slipping on a pile of gravel; that someone just happened to be my sister, of all people. His teeth had gnashed into her neck a little bit, and he stood hunched over the pavement with blood dripping from his two punched-backward front teeth while schoolchildren stood watching in horrified astonishment. The scene was fascinating and sickening all at once, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Zach Stanley
The sandy, grainy, gone-with-the-wind type quality ascertained through dragging one’s little kid brother through the gravel drive way is unmatched by any other form of outdoor recreation to a sly, sadistic eight year old.
Rachel
The gravel crunched beneath my feet, I was leaving. I needed to get away from here, from him, from everything. He never loved me, which is fine. Understandable, even. But I loved him, and that’s what matters. The gravel flies when I kick it, why can’t he fly when I kick him out? I miss him already, and it’s only been five steps.
Kaitlyn
its on the ground….?!
nicole
gravel stuck between my toes. this hurts like hell. i should wear shoes more often. too bad i can’t afford them anymore since that bastard McGillan fired my ass.
Daniel Arntz
gravel is an unknown substance to which it is very gross. and i cannot belive i am writing so slow. gravel reminds me of a mixture of dirt and rocks. thank you
Jessica
the stuff on the groung where kids sometimes play. i saw some today. it wasnt too pretty. there was dog shit in it because the lady had replaced it for grass so she wouldnt have to mow. convenient i guess. when i was little dad took us to the playground and i pretenede i was tough enough to walk on it with no shoes.
aubrey
just got this word….is this the only word….fish swim above gravel which is colorful and fun
courtney
road rock mollie grass path grave cold rainy old slow sad moody orange small car
courtney
stones at my feet. They make a little crunching noise as I walk over them. The etymological source of gravelly. It’s a beautiful noise. The rocks scream in their tiny voices, we are here! Here we are!
Lizzy
the foundations which keep your feet from falling through to the centre. Portection. Yet hard protection. The kind of foundations you don’t want, but need. Just like life, really. Family. You don’t want the strict rules and the niggly bits that irritate you, but without them, what are you but vulnerable and more likely to get hurt? Yes, family, in a meanish but meaningful sense, are like gravel, i guess.
laura?
I was ridin down the hill I was speedin it was everything they’d told me not to do
NO HELMET
and flying I went when fedora flew off and brakes applied
down down down onto
GRAVEL and it cut me open a little, but I knew I was alive at least
ALIVE and not dead, bleeding and undead
Cassandra
gravel lines the fish tank of the past
no one swims anymore
there is no time to
there is no reason to
swim to live
so it is left empty holding a promise
just don’t expect it to be kept
little joy
gravel on the gavel and I’m drunk yet again
the air is cold and the sun is bright
these are my times
this is my place
but you, my friend
are welcome to join me
so long as you promise
to bring some drinks
df
I ran across the gravel towards the trailer, tripped up the steps, and pulled frantically at the sliding glass door. My sister ran to the door, looking through from the other side of the window.
“What’s wrong?” she mouthed.
Andrew Isaacs
tiny pieces of colourful stone, casually placed along the grass. Forms a pathway that connects the home to the outside world.
Karyn
feet shuffling kicking bits of gravel then a piece stuck inside the shoe. She hopped awkwardly attempting to remove the shoe. She swayed, righted herself then lost balance and crumpled onto the sidewalk. Gravel everywhere, in her hair, stuck to her palms where she had braced to break her fall, hard, gritty, bitty gravel. Gravelled; she was left unravelled.
“There, there,” she muttered, brushing herself down:
“It’s only gravel. Don’t fuss.”
Llyn
The sound of gravel under your feet is beautiful, nostalgic music to my ears. It makes me think back on my younger days when I could conquer the world.
LP
the adjective form of gravel is gravelly, not gravely. gravely is an ADVERB, the adjective form of which is grave. GET IT RIGHT.
this is a pet peeve of mine.
grace h
gravel is on roads. Roads that lead to places. Destinations. People have destinations….goals. To be great, rich, successful. My destination? Joy. Endless joy. And I’m out to find it. On the gravel road.
daniela
Little rocks that make a sound when you walk. There used to be a lot of gravel in Lake Isabelle where my cousin lived.
We would sneak out of the house and have to be super quiet so no one heard us.
crazy.
oliveinspace
my heart is lined with gravel.
I miss everything about him.
i fell on gravel.
i fell in love.
what’s the difference?
both of them left me the same.
torn, bruised.
except the gravel wounds healed.
more than half a year has passed and I’m not fully recovered from love.
foolish
There’s this huge gravel pit around where I live. It’s been there since before I can remember, I’m sure. And it hasn’t changed, either, except they tore down the most amazing hill in the history of hills. Behind it are a bunch of condos now, and rather expensive ones at that. Who would want to live in by an ugly gravel pit for that price?
Mallory Grey
as i was running i looked back to see if he was still chasing me i fell. the gravel was so cold and sent painful chill up my swaet soaked body.
Marquita
gravel . . . falling onto cold hard gravel took her breath away . . . . her bicycle went one way and she went the other. Painfully, she pulled herself to her feet brushing off the dust and dirt . . . looking down to her knees she
suze
pebble. stone. stoned. i’ve never been. i’ve never really wanted to be. i’m too connected to who i am and my awareness of what’s around me. maybe that’s the problem? I’d like to think it’s a positive thing, though. in fact, it IS a positive thing. i’m sticking with that. sticking to not getting stoned. sticks and stones. gravel.
J
gravels are very nice things because they look very pretty. especially when you go to the seaside you cannot live without them. you collect them to make bracelets or necklaces.
hakan
Gravel… a grandfather’s voice calling from the back door. Time for supper! Put down what you’re doing and come on in…
Makes me think of driving down a driveway covered in gray rocks. a rough road not meant for bare feet, just wheels, or flip flops.
Shelley
I look at the pile of gravel and I’m pulled into memories of a childhood spend kicking at the small rocks, building mountains, glaring at it when I fell down. Swinging just high enough so my shoes didn’t kick it up and cause it to go skidding in all directions…
Sarah
My motorcycle doesn’t handle gravel very well; it’s difficult to brake or turn in gravel without losing control. I’d hate to dump my bike because it’s still very shiny and pretty and new farings are damned expensive.
bobo
i love you but not your self-esteem, your self-doubt, all the little uncertainties that stick like gravel in your throat.
x
it’s not fun to fall down on, cuts, grazes, pain, blood, be careful, don’t try to skate on gravel (roller, not ice, obviously) it DOESN’T work and it hurts
Teffin
He stood afar off, working his equipment like an old, silent friend. He hadn’t worn a hard hat for years. The mountainous pile of shredded rock was a strange comfort to his regretful, squinting, surveying gaze.
TheBess
gravel picks up
the thoughts that
I leave along the bottom of my shoes.
(you’ve gotta know I’m soaked in them–
some of it gets down there eventually.)
When I go back home at the end of the day,
walk up the winding, twisted driveway,
I left my feelings in colored streaks
along the wordless world to see
Jenealia
The gravel is wet. I know it must have rained. Yet I still trip. Rainy days are never good to me.
kelsey
Something I could not see in the road before I got my glasses in sixth grade! It hurts if you skin your knee on it! We do not see many gravel roads in this part of suburbia anymore. Makes me think of country roads, summertime, and riding bikes. Pea gravel…
CEH
I feel the gravel crunch beneath my feet. Crunch…crunch…crunch. I am hesitant to go up to the door. It’s been too long. Crunch…crun…the door opens. He comes up to me and embraces me in a hug.
gravel.. to build. to establish. to give foundation to. All great edifices have a modest beginning…. and the foundation of amazing things: the sea, a park, a castle, a home. pretty cool.
the car races to finish line. he’s gonna win. the world is his oyster. one last curve to go. he skids. he crashes. he’s dead. the oyster is closed forever.
was stuck in her knee. had been there for six years. She tried not to think about it, of course, but there were some mornings (mostly when it rained) when she could feel it there, just under the layer of skin that had grown there.
“You could always have gone to the doctor when it happened.” her mother liked to say. Her mother, with the ten pinpricks in her left cheek from a pencil. The crazy neighbor had done it when she was twelve.
“You’re one to talk,” she said.
Gravel hurts when you fall and skin your knee. Once when I was a second or third grader in Catholic school, I was playing tag with my friends during recess. I was being chased by my friend Taylor down a hill. I looked behind me and he had disappeared. Shortly thereafter, I realized he had run into someone after slipping on a pile of gravel; that someone just happened to be my sister, of all people. His teeth had gnashed into her neck a little bit, and he stood hunched over the pavement with blood dripping from his two punched-backward front teeth while schoolchildren stood watching in horrified astonishment. The scene was fascinating and sickening all at once, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
The sandy, grainy, gone-with-the-wind type quality ascertained through dragging one’s little kid brother through the gravel drive way is unmatched by any other form of outdoor recreation to a sly, sadistic eight year old.
The gravel crunched beneath my feet, I was leaving. I needed to get away from here, from him, from everything. He never loved me, which is fine. Understandable, even. But I loved him, and that’s what matters. The gravel flies when I kick it, why can’t he fly when I kick him out? I miss him already, and it’s only been five steps.
its on the ground….?!
gravel stuck between my toes. this hurts like hell. i should wear shoes more often. too bad i can’t afford them anymore since that bastard McGillan fired my ass.
gravel is an unknown substance to which it is very gross. and i cannot belive i am writing so slow. gravel reminds me of a mixture of dirt and rocks. thank you
the stuff on the groung where kids sometimes play. i saw some today. it wasnt too pretty. there was dog shit in it because the lady had replaced it for grass so she wouldnt have to mow. convenient i guess. when i was little dad took us to the playground and i pretenede i was tough enough to walk on it with no shoes.
just got this word….is this the only word….fish swim above gravel which is colorful and fun
road rock mollie grass path grave cold rainy old slow sad moody orange small car
stones at my feet. They make a little crunching noise as I walk over them. The etymological source of gravelly. It’s a beautiful noise. The rocks scream in their tiny voices, we are here! Here we are!
the foundations which keep your feet from falling through to the centre. Portection. Yet hard protection. The kind of foundations you don’t want, but need. Just like life, really. Family. You don’t want the strict rules and the niggly bits that irritate you, but without them, what are you but vulnerable and more likely to get hurt? Yes, family, in a meanish but meaningful sense, are like gravel, i guess.
I was ridin down the hill I was speedin it was everything they’d told me not to do
NO HELMET
and flying I went when fedora flew off and brakes applied
down down down onto
GRAVEL and it cut me open a little, but I knew I was alive at least
ALIVE and not dead, bleeding and undead
gravel lines the fish tank of the past
no one swims anymore
there is no time to
there is no reason to
swim to live
so it is left empty holding a promise
just don’t expect it to be kept
gravel on the gavel and I’m drunk yet again
the air is cold and the sun is bright
these are my times
this is my place
but you, my friend
are welcome to join me
so long as you promise
to bring some drinks
I ran across the gravel towards the trailer, tripped up the steps, and pulled frantically at the sliding glass door. My sister ran to the door, looking through from the other side of the window.
“What’s wrong?” she mouthed.
tiny pieces of colourful stone, casually placed along the grass. Forms a pathway that connects the home to the outside world.
feet shuffling kicking bits of gravel then a piece stuck inside the shoe. She hopped awkwardly attempting to remove the shoe. She swayed, righted herself then lost balance and crumpled onto the sidewalk. Gravel everywhere, in her hair, stuck to her palms where she had braced to break her fall, hard, gritty, bitty gravel. Gravelled; she was left unravelled.
“There, there,” she muttered, brushing herself down:
“It’s only gravel. Don’t fuss.”
The sound of gravel under your feet is beautiful, nostalgic music to my ears. It makes me think back on my younger days when I could conquer the world.
the adjective form of gravel is gravelly, not gravely. gravely is an ADVERB, the adjective form of which is grave. GET IT RIGHT.
this is a pet peeve of mine.
gravel is on roads. Roads that lead to places. Destinations. People have destinations….goals. To be great, rich, successful. My destination? Joy. Endless joy. And I’m out to find it. On the gravel road.
Little rocks that make a sound when you walk. There used to be a lot of gravel in Lake Isabelle where my cousin lived.
We would sneak out of the house and have to be super quiet so no one heard us.
crazy.
my heart is lined with gravel.
I miss everything about him.
i fell on gravel.
i fell in love.
what’s the difference?
both of them left me the same.
torn, bruised.
except the gravel wounds healed.
more than half a year has passed and I’m not fully recovered from love.
There’s this huge gravel pit around where I live. It’s been there since before I can remember, I’m sure. And it hasn’t changed, either, except they tore down the most amazing hill in the history of hills. Behind it are a bunch of condos now, and rather expensive ones at that. Who would want to live in by an ugly gravel pit for that price?
as i was running i looked back to see if he was still chasing me i fell. the gravel was so cold and sent painful chill up my swaet soaked body.
gravel . . . falling onto cold hard gravel took her breath away . . . . her bicycle went one way and she went the other. Painfully, she pulled herself to her feet brushing off the dust and dirt . . . looking down to her knees she
pebble. stone. stoned. i’ve never been. i’ve never really wanted to be. i’m too connected to who i am and my awareness of what’s around me. maybe that’s the problem? I’d like to think it’s a positive thing, though. in fact, it IS a positive thing. i’m sticking with that. sticking to not getting stoned. sticks and stones. gravel.
gravels are very nice things because they look very pretty. especially when you go to the seaside you cannot live without them. you collect them to make bracelets or necklaces.
Gravel… a grandfather’s voice calling from the back door. Time for supper! Put down what you’re doing and come on in…
Makes me think of driving down a driveway covered in gray rocks. a rough road not meant for bare feet, just wheels, or flip flops.
I look at the pile of gravel and I’m pulled into memories of a childhood spend kicking at the small rocks, building mountains, glaring at it when I fell down. Swinging just high enough so my shoes didn’t kick it up and cause it to go skidding in all directions…
My motorcycle doesn’t handle gravel very well; it’s difficult to brake or turn in gravel without losing control. I’d hate to dump my bike because it’s still very shiny and pretty and new farings are damned expensive.
i love you but not your self-esteem, your self-doubt, all the little uncertainties that stick like gravel in your throat.
it’s not fun to fall down on, cuts, grazes, pain, blood, be careful, don’t try to skate on gravel (roller, not ice, obviously) it DOESN’T work and it hurts
He stood afar off, working his equipment like an old, silent friend. He hadn’t worn a hard hat for years. The mountainous pile of shredded rock was a strange comfort to his regretful, squinting, surveying gaze.
gravel picks up
the thoughts that
I leave along the bottom of my shoes.
(you’ve gotta know I’m soaked in them–
some of it gets down there eventually.)
When I go back home at the end of the day,
walk up the winding, twisted driveway,
I left my feelings in colored streaks
along the wordless world to see
The gravel is wet. I know it must have rained. Yet I still trip. Rainy days are never good to me.
Something I could not see in the road before I got my glasses in sixth grade! It hurts if you skin your knee on it! We do not see many gravel roads in this part of suburbia anymore. Makes me think of country roads, summertime, and riding bikes. Pea gravel…
I feel the gravel crunch beneath my feet. Crunch…crunch…crunch. I am hesitant to go up to the door. It’s been too long. Crunch…crun…the door opens. He comes up to me and embraces me in a hug.