The New York skyline. Immediately makes me think of the song “Manhattan From The Sky” by Kate Voegele. I really like that song, even to this day. And now I want to listen to it again, because I haven’t heard it in quite some time. Probably will later.
Doodles
line of sky or the sky of line …… i love u and u love mine ….. u are for me and i m for you ,,,,, u r mine and i m ur skyline ….
ansh
Artie and Janice flew over toward the skyline of Gotham City in their Cessna. It was a splendidly beautiful sunset just beyond the Wayne Foundation building.
They kissed as they approached the outskirts of town. They banked hard left then leveled off. Artie then engaged the automatic pilot (having aimed their explosive-laden aircraft at The Gotham Home for Cute Little Wayward Kittens). They strapped on their parachutes and jumped, floating safely to the inner courtyard of Arkham Asylum, thus giving Batman the night off.
We had discovered the tit completely by accident one night when we were stumbling home drunk from some bad party. It was only about ten minutes from our subdivision, between a forest and the abandoned farm house. It was a big tall round hill, and we joking called it the ‘tit’, because we imagined from aerial view, it would look like one. A lone tit. You could see everything from up there. Our whole little town reduced to one big ball of glowing lights at night in the quiet dark. The skyline was a silent jumble of all the little houses, and despite the loud buzz and busyness during the daylight, the only noise at night was the symphony of crickets.
For the longest time the tit was an ongoing joke between you and I, and the regular stop on a friday night to get high. But there was a specialness to it. It was out own little place in the world, that no one else knew about, and that we didn’t have to share. I think you knew it too. One day you said, “let’s make pact.” You brushed the hair out of your eyes and smiled your crooked smile, “neither of us will ever bring anyone up here. Unless they really deserve it. Unless they’re special. As special as this tit. You know?”
At the time I smiled and nodded and didn’t think much of it.
I’m too old now to refer to a hill aloud as a ‘tit’, or get high at three in the morning. But I still find myself there on Friday nights, alone.
I never showed anyone the tit. I wonder if you did.
looking out across the window at sunset. everything looked like it was on fire. from the trees to the buildings in the distance. pinks and purples did a dance within the clouds. darkness was not far away.
There is monochromatic colour everywhere, and he no longer remembers which way to turn.
It’s not quite jaywalking; with his backpack and the last vestiges of tan over his cheekbones the city doesn’t yet suit him, too many countries of sheep and Sunday afternoons, battered cardboard signs that spell ‘Invercargil’ with one l to save printing space, like in the movie.
The skyline reflected in the water as our feet dangled over the edge of the cement dock. The wind blew our coats into billowing capes, our cheeks freezing to the touch. Collapsing, one by one, the four of us lay together by Lake Michigan.
“School sucks. People suck. All this stuff we’ve been doing… It’s just shit,” Mack said, his voice breaking our heavy silence.
“Actually,” said James, his eyes trained on the barely-visible stars above our heads, “I’m pretty sure everything’s awesome right now.”
Once again I found myself in the shadows of the towering structures. I found myself cowering underneath the burden held atop the roofs. I stood under the skyline wondering how it is that from afar it can seem so peaceful, but inside the picturesque landscape of a city that solidarity pervades the blank stares from strangers looking through you.
Matt
another way out
another way to the heavens
another way to have you all to myself
another place for me to feel special at
another invention that brings people together
another way to show me what i’m apart of
another view
another world
i’m up high
i never thought i could be far up and out.
I grew up in a town that had a street called Skyline Drive. It was a road on the top of a ridge that wound around from the center of town to the east side. There were great views from there, a place to look out on the “land stars” at night. Skyline Drive was a destination for “after date parking.” I was only taken there once (darn-it!) But I did love to drive that street when I got my first car, with a tape plugged into the 8-track player, and singing at the top of my lungs.
I stepped outside looking at the Skyline searching for someone. The sun was going down and the reds and oranges were changing to pinks and purples. And a figure
Anissa
I miss the feeling of companionship. I miss being young and driving around the city at night with the top down. All 5 of us, laughing, the wind in our hair… We were at our best together.
I live in hoboken nj, and look across the hudson river every day to see that beautiful skyline called NYC. the skyline is amazing, but the city itself makes me wanna vom. Especially the sewage and pollution on the streets. That skyline is deceiving
Dolly
The city. It seeps through the night like a bleeding photograph, running windows into rivers into shadows on the sidewalks. It speaks through the sleep of women gone softly to bed, children dreaming heavily of silence and a noise less ordinary. It is a time of reflection, of men staying up late into the night sipping whiskey high balls dreaming of baseball, of women in tight pants hanging out on street corners calling for someone named, ‘Baby.’ It is the line of bars down the street illuminated by neon sides with arms open to embrace all of the lost, the fallen, the craving poor souls of those who need a fix, need the elixir of forgetting, of silent and sleep.
It is a skyline singing to the cold, black nights of a river humming serenity in numb paranoia, in a world where children shiver in the city shimmer, calling, “Why?”
High above it all, quietly ascended above them all, watching, looking down in the sleeping country below. Slowly, the morning chorus begins as birds shuffle themselves awake, high, high above the Taiwan skyline
ahh i want to see the seattle skyline
hello seattle
the whole world in front of me
outer space, the space needle
college, freedom, it seems so wonderful
i want to be there, but i don’t
the world of suck isn’t where i live
nighttime clouds in shades of red or blue or black or purple or any colour you like. clouds and light and day and don’t forget the grass as it meets the sky because that is ultimately what the skyline is. Do not forget to love the ones you’ve lost.
Mackenzie Moffitt
I’m fascinated by the stories told by New York’s horizon, the shapes of buildings caressing inky nights and glowing dawns. They give a sense of something bigger than yourself, something akin to a God, but something you can actually see and be a part of. That’s why I love cities. I like believing in people more than believing in something unreal, something I’ve never even experienced. Skylines speak stories and I want to listen for the rest of my life.
The skyline was beautiful. The clouds in the sky were not visible, but the opportunity the tall buildings offered served as inspiration. This was a new beginning and all of the promise of wealth and fame awaited her. The biggest obstacle was being able to endure the endless elevator ride to the top.
Does it define me? I soar above it, I writhe below it. I can’t be held back by it, but I srtuggle against the chains it binds me with. Leaving won’t come easily… far away I’m taken but on the ground my feet remain.
Molly
Grey clouds threatened; the city shuddered; home again.
Dave
The skyline is the most beautiful during twilight.
It’s like me on Earth, and you, heavenly beautiful creature, are up there smiling sweetly down at me. This is what happens when you have a highly and adorable boyfriend, it’s like you’re always not good enough, and you wonder sometimes, what does he see in you?
But then he holds you like he’s hanging onto you for life, handles you with almighty care, and kisses you like you’re the only girl in the world. Blinks. Reality is just too good to be true, but it is!
This is the story where the Earth and the sky meet.
alyssa rae
I see the skyline of the cityscape.
Such beautiful lines, the corners turning into one another.
To marvel at it forever would be magical.
It’s a shame life must go on.
just about one of the most beautiful things in the world. staring out the window with a tinkling class of champagne, thinking, “how lucky am i to be here right now?”. perfect paired with a sunset and loved one. something that you know will look amazing no matter what…
My adrenaline always begins to pump when I drive into Chicago on 90 and I can see the city skyline. I love driving on that twisty, curvy road. I feel alive driving with the traffic, living in the fast lane. Seeing all the different kind of cars, all the different types of people. I crave that diversity. Maybe that’s why I love Chicago so much. I love that different, fast-paced life.
i have fallen in love with the skyline a countless number of times. the shadows and reflections of the buildings, the familiar shape, that starry at night and bright-ful by day skyline has me mesmerized.
the skyline with its simplistic beauty, its very nature in its singularity holds the attraction.
except i hate it.
i loathe it and all it stands for and all it is made from.
the destruction and the mindless metal creations void of organic spirit.
mkatherine
skyline… the line in the sky. man, the new york skyline is beautiful. looking out the window at night with champagne at the beautiful skyscraper-clad skyline and thinking , “am i ever lucky”. uh.. and that’s all i got… i think.
Emma
Serene. The city skyline is an image of development, of the future…but not of progress. But focus on that line…the actual skyline. Like the horizon, but man-made. Blue skies, clouds. hope. A whole other world in the thin imaginary line where cityscape meets sky. Mornings. Beauty. Pure.
skyline
a whole city painted in blueish black against the horizon
twinkling lights in between the dark outlines
little squares representing all the people
I love seeing the dallas skyline. Specially when im driving in from houston. When i see the skyline i know am just a little closer to home. Not mention how nice it looks at night. I absolutly love it.
Maria
I never thought purple and orange could look so beautiful together. I understand yellow and orange, and purple and blue. But purple plus orange never looked so beautiful until I started looking up at the sky instead of down at the ground.
We are looking at the angry maw of a big bad corporate denture eating us up and spitting us out with a stomachache the poor darling you say, but I’m too full of spite to care about a monster that’s been gnawing at me for all of my life and I can’t help but notice that the skyline is looking particularly sharp today.
Matt
the sky is seeping into your eyes and they reflect back all of the storms and the peaceful days that this earth has seen. my hopes for us are as high as the tip of the skyscrapers that make up our skyline. for now, i’ll stay safe in your arms where the wind can’t knock me to the ground.
This weekend, as I approached the Minneapolis skyline coming down 394 for the first time in 3 months, I snapped a photo. No hands on the wheel, window down, 35 degree wind slapping me in the face.
see that blue skyline? through the skylights, above the skyscrapers, and beyond your imagination lies that glorious blue skyline. the end of the beginning and the beginning of forever, there lies heaven.
The New York skyline. Immediately makes me think of the song “Manhattan From The Sky” by Kate Voegele. I really like that song, even to this day. And now I want to listen to it again, because I haven’t heard it in quite some time. Probably will later.
line of sky or the sky of line …… i love u and u love mine ….. u are for me and i m for you ,,,,, u r mine and i m ur skyline ….
Artie and Janice flew over toward the skyline of Gotham City in their Cessna. It was a splendidly beautiful sunset just beyond the Wayne Foundation building.
They kissed as they approached the outskirts of town. They banked hard left then leveled off. Artie then engaged the automatic pilot (having aimed their explosive-laden aircraft at The Gotham Home for Cute Little Wayward Kittens). They strapped on their parachutes and jumped, floating safely to the inner courtyard of Arkham Asylum, thus giving Batman the night off.
We had discovered the tit completely by accident one night when we were stumbling home drunk from some bad party. It was only about ten minutes from our subdivision, between a forest and the abandoned farm house. It was a big tall round hill, and we joking called it the ‘tit’, because we imagined from aerial view, it would look like one. A lone tit. You could see everything from up there. Our whole little town reduced to one big ball of glowing lights at night in the quiet dark. The skyline was a silent jumble of all the little houses, and despite the loud buzz and busyness during the daylight, the only noise at night was the symphony of crickets.
For the longest time the tit was an ongoing joke between you and I, and the regular stop on a friday night to get high. But there was a specialness to it. It was out own little place in the world, that no one else knew about, and that we didn’t have to share. I think you knew it too. One day you said, “let’s make pact.” You brushed the hair out of your eyes and smiled your crooked smile, “neither of us will ever bring anyone up here. Unless they really deserve it. Unless they’re special. As special as this tit. You know?”
At the time I smiled and nodded and didn’t think much of it.
I’m too old now to refer to a hill aloud as a ‘tit’, or get high at three in the morning. But I still find myself there on Friday nights, alone.
I never showed anyone the tit. I wonder if you did.
looking out across the window at sunset. everything looked like it was on fire. from the trees to the buildings in the distance. pinks and purples did a dance within the clouds. darkness was not far away.
There is monochromatic colour everywhere, and he no longer remembers which way to turn.
It’s not quite jaywalking; with his backpack and the last vestiges of tan over his cheekbones the city doesn’t yet suit him, too many countries of sheep and Sunday afternoons, battered cardboard signs that spell ‘Invercargil’ with one l to save printing space, like in the movie.
The skyline reflected in the water as our feet dangled over the edge of the cement dock. The wind blew our coats into billowing capes, our cheeks freezing to the touch. Collapsing, one by one, the four of us lay together by Lake Michigan.
“School sucks. People suck. All this stuff we’ve been doing… It’s just shit,” Mack said, his voice breaking our heavy silence.
“Actually,” said James, his eyes trained on the barely-visible stars above our heads, “I’m pretty sure everything’s awesome right now.”
Once again I found myself in the shadows of the towering structures. I found myself cowering underneath the burden held atop the roofs. I stood under the skyline wondering how it is that from afar it can seem so peaceful, but inside the picturesque landscape of a city that solidarity pervades the blank stares from strangers looking through you.
another way out
another way to the heavens
another way to have you all to myself
another place for me to feel special at
another invention that brings people together
another way to show me what i’m apart of
another view
another world
i’m up high
i never thought i could be far up and out.
Skyline
I grew up in a town that had a street called Skyline Drive. It was a road on the top of a ridge that wound around from the center of town to the east side. There were great views from there, a place to look out on the “land stars” at night. Skyline Drive was a destination for “after date parking.” I was only taken there once (darn-it!) But I did love to drive that street when I got my first car, with a tape plugged into the 8-track player, and singing at the top of my lungs.
I stepped outside looking at the Skyline searching for someone. The sun was going down and the reds and oranges were changing to pinks and purples. And a figure
I miss the feeling of companionship. I miss being young and driving around the city at night with the top down. All 5 of us, laughing, the wind in our hair… We were at our best together.
I live in hoboken nj, and look across the hudson river every day to see that beautiful skyline called NYC. the skyline is amazing, but the city itself makes me wanna vom. Especially the sewage and pollution on the streets. That skyline is deceiving
The city. It seeps through the night like a bleeding photograph, running windows into rivers into shadows on the sidewalks. It speaks through the sleep of women gone softly to bed, children dreaming heavily of silence and a noise less ordinary. It is a time of reflection, of men staying up late into the night sipping whiskey high balls dreaming of baseball, of women in tight pants hanging out on street corners calling for someone named, ‘Baby.’ It is the line of bars down the street illuminated by neon sides with arms open to embrace all of the lost, the fallen, the craving poor souls of those who need a fix, need the elixir of forgetting, of silent and sleep.
It is a skyline singing to the cold, black nights of a river humming serenity in numb paranoia, in a world where children shiver in the city shimmer, calling, “Why?”
High above it all, quietly ascended above them all, watching, looking down in the sleeping country below. Slowly, the morning chorus begins as birds shuffle themselves awake, high, high above the Taiwan skyline
I see a bridge. Slender ladies with traveling bag rolling on the floor, walking stylishly towards the plane.
i want the buildings’ skyline to stretch above me so high that i cannot see.
i want to drown in this city.
ahh i want to see the seattle skyline
hello seattle
the whole world in front of me
outer space, the space needle
college, freedom, it seems so wonderful
i want to be there, but i don’t
the world of suck isn’t where i live
nighttime clouds in shades of red or blue or black or purple or any colour you like. clouds and light and day and don’t forget the grass as it meets the sky because that is ultimately what the skyline is. Do not forget to love the ones you’ve lost.
I’m fascinated by the stories told by New York’s horizon, the shapes of buildings caressing inky nights and glowing dawns. They give a sense of something bigger than yourself, something akin to a God, but something you can actually see and be a part of. That’s why I love cities. I like believing in people more than believing in something unreal, something I’ve never even experienced. Skylines speak stories and I want to listen for the rest of my life.
The skyline was beautiful. The clouds in the sky were not visible, but the opportunity the tall buildings offered served as inspiration. This was a new beginning and all of the promise of wealth and fame awaited her. The biggest obstacle was being able to endure the endless elevator ride to the top.
Does it define me? I soar above it, I writhe below it. I can’t be held back by it, but I srtuggle against the chains it binds me with. Leaving won’t come easily… far away I’m taken but on the ground my feet remain.
Grey clouds threatened; the city shuddered; home again.
The skyline is the most beautiful during twilight.
It’s like me on Earth, and you, heavenly beautiful creature, are up there smiling sweetly down at me. This is what happens when you have a highly and adorable boyfriend, it’s like you’re always not good enough, and you wonder sometimes, what does he see in you?
But then he holds you like he’s hanging onto you for life, handles you with almighty care, and kisses you like you’re the only girl in the world. Blinks. Reality is just too good to be true, but it is!
This is the story where the Earth and the sky meet.
I see the skyline of the cityscape.
Such beautiful lines, the corners turning into one another.
To marvel at it forever would be magical.
It’s a shame life must go on.
just about one of the most beautiful things in the world. staring out the window with a tinkling class of champagne, thinking, “how lucky am i to be here right now?”. perfect paired with a sunset and loved one. something that you know will look amazing no matter what…
My adrenaline always begins to pump when I drive into Chicago on 90 and I can see the city skyline. I love driving on that twisty, curvy road. I feel alive driving with the traffic, living in the fast lane. Seeing all the different kind of cars, all the different types of people. I crave that diversity. Maybe that’s why I love Chicago so much. I love that different, fast-paced life.
i have fallen in love with the skyline a countless number of times. the shadows and reflections of the buildings, the familiar shape, that starry at night and bright-ful by day skyline has me mesmerized.
the skyline with its simplistic beauty, its very nature in its singularity holds the attraction.
except i hate it.
i loathe it and all it stands for and all it is made from.
the destruction and the mindless metal creations void of organic spirit.
skyline… the line in the sky. man, the new york skyline is beautiful. looking out the window at night with champagne at the beautiful skyscraper-clad skyline and thinking , “am i ever lucky”. uh.. and that’s all i got… i think.
Serene. The city skyline is an image of development, of the future…but not of progress. But focus on that line…the actual skyline. Like the horizon, but man-made. Blue skies, clouds. hope. A whole other world in the thin imaginary line where cityscape meets sky. Mornings. Beauty. Pure.
skyline
a whole city painted in blueish black against the horizon
twinkling lights in between the dark outlines
little squares representing all the people
I love seeing the dallas skyline. Specially when im driving in from houston. When i see the skyline i know am just a little closer to home. Not mention how nice it looks at night. I absolutly love it.
I never thought purple and orange could look so beautiful together. I understand yellow and orange, and purple and blue. But purple plus orange never looked so beautiful until I started looking up at the sky instead of down at the ground.
We are looking at the angry maw of a big bad corporate denture eating us up and spitting us out with a stomachache the poor darling you say, but I’m too full of spite to care about a monster that’s been gnawing at me for all of my life and I can’t help but notice that the skyline is looking particularly sharp today.
the sky is seeping into your eyes and they reflect back all of the storms and the peaceful days that this earth has seen. my hopes for us are as high as the tip of the skyscrapers that make up our skyline. for now, i’ll stay safe in your arms where the wind can’t knock me to the ground.
This weekend, as I approached the Minneapolis skyline coming down 394 for the first time in 3 months, I snapped a photo. No hands on the wheel, window down, 35 degree wind slapping me in the face.
Silver blue orange
streaks
pressed with us
and skyrocketed
to the golden horizon
fading
fading
bronze trees
faded into the night
run along the dim
see that blue skyline? through the skylights, above the skyscrapers, and beyond your imagination lies that glorious blue skyline. the end of the beginning and the beginning of forever, there lies heaven.