There were a million stars above our boiling minds. A billion. Trillion, maybe. More. More stars than there are numbers. We could only see a sampling of the offerings of the universe and under the softly churning wispy clouds of a storm just barely ended, I felt like one of them.
abigail
I always like to be outdoors. I can thank my dad for that. He taught me and my brother to always appreciate the world around us. Endless hiking trips and nights looking at the stars. I will always love being outside. There’s something about being in a huge place with complete silence, knowing that you are so small.
The great outdoors is amazing. To go camping, is the best. I love being able to stay outside, and feel in tune with the nature. There is so much greenery and animals outside. Going outside is just so fun.
At the old house, there was a dilapidated garage and a space between it and the house. There was a small patch of grass there, and if you laid down on it, you could look straight up between the garage and the house and see, on a sunny and clear day, a piece of the blue sky. It was like the piece of a patchwork quilt, which I can say now, but not then. Because I didn’t know what a patchwork quilt was when I was 5 years old. But I did know that when I looked up at that piece of sky, I saw God and hope and good things coming some day. There was no way to know when that day would be, but I could feel it coming, I could smell the air that smelled so good and sometimes, a plane would move across the blue and I would think about being on that plane and flying to wherever I wanted to. One day, lying there in my good Sunday dress, I felt as though go would lean down and lift me up and take me up there to get a better look. This was how I got away. Until I heard him banging on the window with his sharp knuckles that sounded as mean as the look on his face. How did he do that?
ruby
bike riding comes to my mind when I here the word outdoors. I think of playing with friends and l like I said bike riding.
Dylin
There is too much to say about the outdoors to fit into 60 seconds. It’s vast and beautiful and should change everyone’s life. It’s so vital to living. I don’t think people know that
Rachel
I don’t like to go outdoors cause I’m lazy…
I’m going to take a nap now
ian
One day, someone walked outside, and saw a flower. The flower was yellow, and looked beautiful. The flower sat inside that person’s home for days. The flower soon died.
Max
empty in and out,
never see me never hear me scream
death’s my only dream
nameless
Sometimes the messages are less than subliminal. Blunt even.
“Wanna enjoy the sunshine without all the sneezing, try our proprietary formula!”
“The beach is a blast. And did you see that man rising out of the water, rivulets shedding seductively off that rippling abdomen, how can you resist the clearly defined allure of rugged masculinity. You can’t. Just remember to pick up a pair of these name brand sunglasses from which to spy behind.”
“It’s a holiday weekend, good folks. Time to barbecue something with this mid-grade grill that’s conveniently on sale right now.”
“A public park is like ‘nice’ and all. But we’re talking about the great outdoors here. Go explore it with our quality brand of camping equipment and clothing. Soar like a goddamn eagle at the ridge of a jagged, untamed mountain range you brick and mortar yuppies.”
“P.S. Look at this sleek automobile navigating highways along these sun-kissed landscapes! That could be you on your way to someplace special.”
However that’s not the message today. I’m enjoying the comfort of my solitude amid the things that live and die and repeat these cycles again and again. Today all others will be buffered like a breeze banked by grasses and trees. Absorbed by the moss that lives on both bark and rock alike.
Filter
It’s a lovely day out. Mostly cloudy, but still plenty of light. They’re the light grey clouds, the kind that make a cool day, but don’t predict rain. Those kinds of clouds cast an interesting light on the world. I tend to feel like I’m viewing the world through a film.
Minna Banawan
Outdoors, we really don’t go there anymore. Screens, lights, texting and televisions, they all keep us away from the true beauty of the trees and the wind and the open seas.
Yours truly, a hater of walking outside my door
Andréanne
The outdoors were always cold. Always cold. The kind that seeps into your bones and makes you ache and ache. The way it looks at you with sidelong glances and taps your spine with the chilling tingle and rattle. The way the outdoors kill your happiness. Kill your comfort. Force you into something new. The way outdoors give birth to something new.
Brandon
“You’ll never meet anyone if you don’t go outdoors.” She says.
“I know.” I flip the page and go back to reading.
She sighs as she leaves the room. The door clicks softly.
Don't bother.
green, the hppies fighting for equal rights. marijuanna and tye dye, colors and spring. animals and forests, deep greens. lots of huge pines, the smell of dirt and wind. walks and hikes.
savannah horne
I went outdoors yesterday and I was shocked. My backyard’s never been that fancy or cool. The grass is mostly dried and yellow, and the treehouse which I had taken pride in as a child was standing like a lonely sentry in the corner of the small plot of land. It was clear evidence that time had whipped through this backyard faster than a rouge wind. I remember stepping in some of the rocks in the garden and wincing at the sharpness and hardness of the stones. I as disappointed in myself. I remember when the soles of my young and vulnerable feet were hard enough, strong enough to withstand the grating feel of the rocks below. I remember walking barefoot in the grass yesterday, trying not to look down and see the bugs. Gross. I used to never be afraid. The outdoors used to be a refuge, to fascinate me. But now I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the outdoors.
The great outdoors. I enjoy being outside. Especially when it’s nice outside. I enjoy camping but really a picnic is great. I’d love to go on a picnic with you and lay on a blanket next to a hill and fall in love.
Rachel
The sun is shining. A celestial memoir of hope. An invisible smoke screen of clouds to hang across the horizon. They dance. A metaphorical day-shine. And the only reason being for waking at such an early, ungodly hour is to look North. Mornings are meant for star-mapping and daydreaming and think speaking with the pen.
Outdoors makes me think of pine trees and camping. I remember camping with my friends and learning how to make things from limbs and twine. I wish I could do it again.
Rich
outdoors we went,
heaving chest, no rest,
were on catalina island biotch,
drinking skills, come attest,
where was the mystery?
the curved inadvertent undertaking by time?
were we in another universe?
a black hole, espacing stars,
vacumming planets?
a votarian not a vegeterian,
expandings lengths, and greatening dive board jumping strength.
lets strive in,
dive in,
to a pool of the unknown!
I hate the outdoors. Well, to be more accurate, I could enjoy the outdoors if they didn’t hate me so much. I burn after 10 minutes in the sun, I am allergic to any and every plant, any blood sucking bugs will fly or crawl for miles to bite me. We have a complicated relationship.
Andrew
That’s where the magic happens. Outdoors. Your relationships are doors. Your job is a door. Your hobbies are doors. They’re not walls. Not cushions. Not plates of food. They are doors, and they’re showing you the other side.
The doors on the outside of my house are white dappled with grey shadows cast by sun on the trees. The shadows glide up and down as the tree sways in the wind.
Paul
I craned my neck to the sky, squinting at the power of the sun. Somewhere in the distance were birds, harmonizing and soliloquizing. The air smelled of pine and earth and another smell I couldn’t identify.
“I hate this.”
I love outdoors. outdoor is great place to play any activities or hobbies at.
patrick
i am going outdoors
andrey
My head is spinning fantasies of outdoor dungeons.
daisy covered eyelids peer into my inner thoughts.
anna
A lake surrounds me as the crisp, fresh air gently caresses my face. As I see children enjoying the lush green grass, I am touched. Frisbees lifted by the wind, kites making the dream of a young kid happy. That’s what I live for. To put a smile on someone else’s face.
Coworker cowards
rarely they rattle their chains
won’t rally for change
don’t you dare complain
if YOU are unwilling to
fight for any gains!
chains must be broken,
first cease being a coward
then travel forward
don’t accept WRONG norms
remaining down on all fours,
escape to OUTDOORS
inside our systems
we operate and when fail,
time to fix!… or bail!
! Haiku-maN !
I came in
i thought I wanted to be here
believed i found my home
now i see nothing but walls
barriers, containment
trapped, panicked
need to escape
searching frantically
where are the outdoors
poetwarrior
How many days, how many excuses?
Sun filtering down to the hardwood.
Obligations- some real, some imagined- tying threads to my wrists and ankles; thin bonds whose only power to hold me likes in their inherent symbolism. An elephant tied to a post. To step out, to take a breath of the air I was born to breathe,
can I justify the time?
I rack my brain for an excuse. A mountain to climb?
Do I need shopping done? Was there a place I’d been meaning to look for?
I hadn’t even the chance to look for places I should find.
When this is finished. Next time.
Could I just leave? No reason, just a chance to breathe?
Here is dark,
shadows seethe,
the weight of inside world tiring my brain, strangling my lungs,
collapsing my heart.
How long can the world keep providing this light, this air, all right there?
Surely it is finite, like my time, and will slip through my fingers before I get a chance to let it warm my skin, redden my cheeks, kiss the roots of my hair.
Outside the window is a neglected lover.
La verdad se vive al aire libre. Esclavos de nuestras paredes, idólatras de la productividad, olvidamos que la esencia del respirar se encuentra en el viento. Que la vida es salto, llanto y miedo. Que el vivir es risa, abrazo y sueño.
Terry and Larry loved the great outdoors. They hiked, they biked, they went fishing, and they went hunting. They camped out and they climbed mountains and they settled in deep, sweltering valleys, beating the heat with songs and stories. They appreciated every aspect that Mother Nature had to offer, and so, as they traveled, no harm came to them, not even in the form of natural disasters. That is, until an avalanche caught Terry off guard, and he disappeared into a torrent of snow as he skied along the white-crowned pines.
There were a million stars above our boiling minds. A billion. Trillion, maybe. More. More stars than there are numbers. We could only see a sampling of the offerings of the universe and under the softly churning wispy clouds of a storm just barely ended, I felt like one of them.
I always like to be outdoors. I can thank my dad for that. He taught me and my brother to always appreciate the world around us. Endless hiking trips and nights looking at the stars. I will always love being outside. There’s something about being in a huge place with complete silence, knowing that you are so small.
I hate the outdoors. I hate camping, i hate bugs especially spiders it just disgusts me.
The great outdoors is amazing. To go camping, is the best. I love being able to stay outside, and feel in tune with the nature. There is so much greenery and animals outside. Going outside is just so fun.
At the old house, there was a dilapidated garage and a space between it and the house. There was a small patch of grass there, and if you laid down on it, you could look straight up between the garage and the house and see, on a sunny and clear day, a piece of the blue sky. It was like the piece of a patchwork quilt, which I can say now, but not then. Because I didn’t know what a patchwork quilt was when I was 5 years old. But I did know that when I looked up at that piece of sky, I saw God and hope and good things coming some day. There was no way to know when that day would be, but I could feel it coming, I could smell the air that smelled so good and sometimes, a plane would move across the blue and I would think about being on that plane and flying to wherever I wanted to. One day, lying there in my good Sunday dress, I felt as though go would lean down and lift me up and take me up there to get a better look. This was how I got away. Until I heard him banging on the window with his sharp knuckles that sounded as mean as the look on his face. How did he do that?
bike riding comes to my mind when I here the word outdoors. I think of playing with friends and l like I said bike riding.
There is too much to say about the outdoors to fit into 60 seconds. It’s vast and beautiful and should change everyone’s life. It’s so vital to living. I don’t think people know that
I don’t like to go outdoors cause I’m lazy…
I’m going to take a nap now
One day, someone walked outside, and saw a flower. The flower was yellow, and looked beautiful. The flower sat inside that person’s home for days. The flower soon died.
empty in and out,
never see me never hear me scream
death’s my only dream
Sometimes the messages are less than subliminal. Blunt even.
“Wanna enjoy the sunshine without all the sneezing, try our proprietary formula!”
“The beach is a blast. And did you see that man rising out of the water, rivulets shedding seductively off that rippling abdomen, how can you resist the clearly defined allure of rugged masculinity. You can’t. Just remember to pick up a pair of these name brand sunglasses from which to spy behind.”
“It’s a holiday weekend, good folks. Time to barbecue something with this mid-grade grill that’s conveniently on sale right now.”
“A public park is like ‘nice’ and all. But we’re talking about the great outdoors here. Go explore it with our quality brand of camping equipment and clothing. Soar like a goddamn eagle at the ridge of a jagged, untamed mountain range you brick and mortar yuppies.”
“P.S. Look at this sleek automobile navigating highways along these sun-kissed landscapes! That could be you on your way to someplace special.”
However that’s not the message today. I’m enjoying the comfort of my solitude amid the things that live and die and repeat these cycles again and again. Today all others will be buffered like a breeze banked by grasses and trees. Absorbed by the moss that lives on both bark and rock alike.
It’s a lovely day out. Mostly cloudy, but still plenty of light. They’re the light grey clouds, the kind that make a cool day, but don’t predict rain. Those kinds of clouds cast an interesting light on the world. I tend to feel like I’m viewing the world through a film.
Outdoors, we really don’t go there anymore. Screens, lights, texting and televisions, they all keep us away from the true beauty of the trees and the wind and the open seas.
Yours truly, a hater of walking outside my door
The outdoors were always cold. Always cold. The kind that seeps into your bones and makes you ache and ache. The way it looks at you with sidelong glances and taps your spine with the chilling tingle and rattle. The way the outdoors kill your happiness. Kill your comfort. Force you into something new. The way outdoors give birth to something new.
“You’ll never meet anyone if you don’t go outdoors.” She says.
“I know.” I flip the page and go back to reading.
She sighs as she leaves the room. The door clicks softly.
green, the hppies fighting for equal rights. marijuanna and tye dye, colors and spring. animals and forests, deep greens. lots of huge pines, the smell of dirt and wind. walks and hikes.
I went outdoors yesterday and I was shocked. My backyard’s never been that fancy or cool. The grass is mostly dried and yellow, and the treehouse which I had taken pride in as a child was standing like a lonely sentry in the corner of the small plot of land. It was clear evidence that time had whipped through this backyard faster than a rouge wind. I remember stepping in some of the rocks in the garden and wincing at the sharpness and hardness of the stones. I as disappointed in myself. I remember when the soles of my young and vulnerable feet were hard enough, strong enough to withstand the grating feel of the rocks below. I remember walking barefoot in the grass yesterday, trying not to look down and see the bugs. Gross. I used to never be afraid. The outdoors used to be a refuge, to fascinate me. But now I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the outdoors.
The door: the porch: the steps: the sidewalk: the bushes: the driveway: the road: the world
AS
The door: the airlock: the suit: empty space: empty space: empty space: fire
The great outdoors. I enjoy being outside. Especially when it’s nice outside. I enjoy camping but really a picnic is great. I’d love to go on a picnic with you and lay on a blanket next to a hill and fall in love.
The sun is shining. A celestial memoir of hope. An invisible smoke screen of clouds to hang across the horizon. They dance. A metaphorical day-shine. And the only reason being for waking at such an early, ungodly hour is to look North. Mornings are meant for star-mapping and daydreaming and think speaking with the pen.
Outdoors makes me think of pine trees and camping. I remember camping with my friends and learning how to make things from limbs and twine. I wish I could do it again.
outdoors we went,
heaving chest, no rest,
were on catalina island biotch,
drinking skills, come attest,
where was the mystery?
the curved inadvertent undertaking by time?
were we in another universe?
a black hole, espacing stars,
vacumming planets?
a votarian not a vegeterian,
expandings lengths, and greatening dive board jumping strength.
lets strive in,
dive in,
to a pool of the unknown!
I hate the outdoors. Well, to be more accurate, I could enjoy the outdoors if they didn’t hate me so much. I burn after 10 minutes in the sun, I am allergic to any and every plant, any blood sucking bugs will fly or crawl for miles to bite me. We have a complicated relationship.
That’s where the magic happens. Outdoors. Your relationships are doors. Your job is a door. Your hobbies are doors. They’re not walls. Not cushions. Not plates of food. They are doors, and they’re showing you the other side.
He loved being outdoors. He loved to go hiking with his wife and daughter in the nearby mountains. It was so peaceful there, away from civilization.
The doors on the outside of my house are white dappled with grey shadows cast by sun on the trees. The shadows glide up and down as the tree sways in the wind.
I craned my neck to the sky, squinting at the power of the sun. Somewhere in the distance were birds, harmonizing and soliloquizing. The air smelled of pine and earth and another smell I couldn’t identify.
“I hate this.”
I love outdoors. outdoor is great place to play any activities or hobbies at.
i am going outdoors
My head is spinning fantasies of outdoor dungeons.
daisy covered eyelids peer into my inner thoughts.
A lake surrounds me as the crisp, fresh air gently caresses my face. As I see children enjoying the lush green grass, I am touched. Frisbees lifted by the wind, kites making the dream of a young kid happy. That’s what I live for. To put a smile on someone else’s face.
Coworker cowards
rarely they rattle their chains
won’t rally for change
don’t you dare complain
if YOU are unwilling to
fight for any gains!
chains must be broken,
first cease being a coward
then travel forward
don’t accept WRONG norms
remaining down on all fours,
escape to OUTDOORS
inside our systems
we operate and when fail,
time to fix!… or bail!
I came in
i thought I wanted to be here
believed i found my home
now i see nothing but walls
barriers, containment
trapped, panicked
need to escape
searching frantically
where are the outdoors
How many days, how many excuses?
Sun filtering down to the hardwood.
Obligations- some real, some imagined- tying threads to my wrists and ankles; thin bonds whose only power to hold me likes in their inherent symbolism. An elephant tied to a post. To step out, to take a breath of the air I was born to breathe,
can I justify the time?
I rack my brain for an excuse. A mountain to climb?
Do I need shopping done? Was there a place I’d been meaning to look for?
I hadn’t even the chance to look for places I should find.
When this is finished. Next time.
Could I just leave? No reason, just a chance to breathe?
Here is dark,
shadows seethe,
the weight of inside world tiring my brain, strangling my lungs,
collapsing my heart.
How long can the world keep providing this light, this air, all right there?
Surely it is finite, like my time, and will slip through my fingers before I get a chance to let it warm my skin, redden my cheeks, kiss the roots of my hair.
Outside the window is a neglected lover.
La verdad se vive al aire libre. Esclavos de nuestras paredes, idólatras de la productividad, olvidamos que la esencia del respirar se encuentra en el viento. Que la vida es salto, llanto y miedo. Que el vivir es risa, abrazo y sueño.
Terry and Larry loved the great outdoors. They hiked, they biked, they went fishing, and they went hunting. They camped out and they climbed mountains and they settled in deep, sweltering valleys, beating the heat with songs and stories. They appreciated every aspect that Mother Nature had to offer, and so, as they traveled, no harm came to them, not even in the form of natural disasters. That is, until an avalanche caught Terry off guard, and he disappeared into a torrent of snow as he skied along the white-crowned pines.