the spoon is gentle wood and it seems to meld
into the soft, vast expanse of your forearm
like it’s a part of it
like you’re a tree
branching out
but then I’m a leaf, I’m a shot-down,
turned-around,
twisted and broken
sapling
let me stir the cake mixture,
let’s continue skipping school.
steve
The pot boiled over. I had become distracted by the smell of the contents, and drifted off into my imagination on what it would be like to eat again. I stirred it, hoping to settle its roiling—a fitting comparison to the anticipation I felt rising within myself.
Stir the tea into coffee and drink down the confusion, its just one of those days. Keep popping the toast down until it matches the blackness of your mood. It catches into flames. You sign and walk out the door, you will not be back.
Mix up your thoughts. Let go the negative ones, stir them in your mind till they get evaporated. It is as simple as the word. S-T-I-R.
zaheer
He began to stir in his sleep; it was the nightmares. There was a man, at the end of the street, staring. Next was the screaming. Loud and painful.
philippa thorne
Pour coffee in a mug. Milk and sugar, add a stir.
There’s a picture on the wall; steal a glance, remember her.
Sink into the chair. Take a sip, make it last.
There’s less in your future than there is in your past.
Stir this crap around. Shake this chaotic town. Change it now! Action necessary, results bound.
pattetv
everything is stirred up in my mind. Every single breath that i took and every single thing that is inside my stomach. It stirs to the point that it hurts, thinking about how it never even got my attention before.
stir means to move. Stirring is also used for as a noun. To stir mens to wake up from a deep sleep. Stir is a four letter word.
kushagra
Round and round and round we go. Horses galloping, up and down and round, and around again. I could bounce so many times, yet it changes nothing. This is still a merry-go-round, and my horse doesn’t go vertically.
He stirred in cream and vanilla.
He had a whole project due tomorrow too.
No pay attention. You’re at work.
Think about work.
Cream and vanilla. Whip for 30 seconds. There should be a light brownish colour.
And he had maths work too.
Ugh god.
What comes next. Pour previous mixture together. Mix at high speed.
Fix pie plate.
As he rolled out the dough for the crust his mind returned to school.
If I leave work at 10 then I can bike home by 10:30. My homework will take about six or seven hours. So at that rate I could go to sleep by……4:30 in the morning.
He felt like slamming his face with the rolling pin.
How had he gotten this far behind?
Oh yeah. Because every time he tried to work all he could think about was her.
And they had gone to a movie on his one night off.
Well it was his own fault.
He grinned. But he’d do it again in a second.
I stirred inside. I cried. I waited. I had to way to stop it. I could only wait. And wait. And wait. My fate was sealed in time and I was unable to rush it. It was not prodded or pressed by my tears nor by my anguish. I could only wait..
Angel
Well If your not making people fall over, then you haven’t done your job. Yeah, If their legs are firmly planted at the end of the show, oops. Guts can get so mixed up in their holes in the cavities there, so why not test that out.
drifterdann
it’s a cold afternoon. i’d like to stir some hot coffee before i could write poems and go back to sleep.
Only when you stop stirring your drink, will it subside, and fall back.. Only then will you be able to see things clear. We stir our mind, stir our heart for some change. We keep stirring. But what if the change is in not stirring? In letting the wave of emotions an excitement and wonder stabilize? So you balance out the variations? And see things from an outer eye. So once in a while, just stop stirring.
only when you stop stirring your drink, will it subside, n fall back.. only then will you be able to see things clear. We stir our mind, stir our heart for some change. we keep stirring. but what if the change is in not stirring? in letting the wave of emotions an excitement and wonder stabilize? So you balance out the variations? and see things from an outer eye. So once in a while, just stop stirring.
Gargi
You know when you cook,you need to stir. Else you might just spoil the food you are making. Life works the same way,you need to stir it up,coz things which dont change eventually perish. You gotta keep moving. you gotta stir yourself from within.” A stir out of the depths”
Sometimes the stir would come from an external force,but believe me it is there just so that you dont go over or under cooked although it might look like someone is messing with your dish. You learn,gradually and sometimes only eventually .:)
stir potatoes, stir water, why would yous stir water, that’s dumb, unless there was something in the water, i like water, oh wait stir… duh! supposed to be writing about stir, stir things up and write about water, thats the way to do it, stir things up and don’t do what your told to do. so the outcome doesn;t even work right, and then you sit and wonder why you’re typing this instead of thinking it, oh because it told you to type about it. rather than thinking, so i am doing this right and the outcome will work.
keagan
Something stirred in my chest then, if only for a moment. Something red and raw and wriggling with life. It was my first encounter with the quality we know disdainfully as “humanity”–a minor chapter in my life that I would give all the fabled riches of the new world to forget.
She stirred after a painfully unsatisfying nap, one that seemed to drag on for the first few minutes but was interrupted at precisely the moment she began to drown into the comforts of sleep. Stirred, dazed, even agitated, she continued about her day with a sour expression.
These feelings, I cannot contain them. They are overwhelming me; controlling my every thought. I cannot breath without feeling them stir deep inside. Threatening to bubble over, they need to be noticed. They need to be fulfilled. But there is nothing I can do to quell this desire and maintain my own dignity.
Haven’t I been here before? Before this screen, before this word, before those judgemental eyes of yours?
Anyway.
I could write about the feelings you stirred in me, like last time, but those don’t happen anymore.
I could write about the feelings I stir in you instead, this time, but those don’t happen anymore either.
I could write about the feelings of anyone that is not us, what stirs them, who leads them to hysteria – but I wouldn’t know, I was never close to any of them but you.
I could write about anything that would stir *something* in you, but I’m not sure I know about them either.
So it turned out that I wrote this, this thing about us not stirring – disturbing word, when repeated – anything in eachother, because it turns out, *that* still stirs me.
meep?
And the feeling was a stirring of the soul. He gasped and clean air rushed into his lungs for what felt like the first time in years. His body began to move, to break and build at the same time, pulling free of a stone like slumber which had consumed him for so long a time. He was free.
Stirring my tea with Grandmother’s bone china spoon, I wait for the clock to strike twelve. The bellowing sound will scatter the birds and rustle the leaves. I will, at that hour, as I do every Sunday after tea, take my leave.
Neelvar
quck the hit goes an the batter is whisking whisking all the while the eggs break the cake bakes the syrup takes its time. The whole is coming baking and rumming to come to dessert tonight. It is sweet. Sweeter than before.
Nick Halden
The day began to stir with the sun. The flies awoke and moved listlessly, thought they’d be frantic soon enough. The elders rose and groaned, the children sprang up and tumbled down the stairs, seeking cereal.
Kathleen Gabriel
the stirring of my heart rises and flutters because of you and it becomes a fluttering butterfly! of dear you amaze me, and you stir my soul
yelena
One night I heard something stir. I got out of bed to see what it was and saw a small child. I asked “Who are you?” and he replied, ” Don’t you recognize me?” I looked at his hair, his face, his eyes, and I could not, yet he seemed so familiar. I told him, “I’m sorry I don’t recognize you.” He said “Understandable, considering how much you have changed.” I awoke and when I went downstairs, I saw a picture from years ago and saw the boy. I asked my mother, “Who is that boy?” and she replied, “That’s you. Don’t you recognize yourself?” and all I could say was, “I guess not.”
Mason
The more she thought, the more she could feel the visions being stirred around in her head, consuming her entirely. She tried to distract herself, focus on something that wouldn’t hurt as much, but she couldn’t. It enveloped her entirely, the thoughts stirring around constantly.
The world stirs and nothing is the same and all of a sudden you remember that he’s dead. He’s gone. And so you keep stirring since everything is changing anyway so why not just keep stirring things up. No one cares until you’re gone anyway so who is going to notice that you’re going insane and you keep stirring until you can’t tell you want to die.
I was stirring. Everything was stirring. My head swimming, the words in my mouth swirling around adn around because I couldn’t help myself. My logic and words don’t line up and I swim and stir. The emotions and the everything stirs. I reach out to you but you’re stirring too, stirring away from me because you don’t understand what is wrong.
Heather Ann
i stir in the chocolate syrup i have poured into my milk and it turns into a brown vortex of delight. It tastes so amazing
Alex
as though the very essence of who i am, is stuck inside a metal pot, its contents swirling, thicker as it turns, different vegetables sink to the bottom, coated in the mix… i am stirring. i am stirring. the fire burns beneath me, time is turning. slow, so slow, the low heat rages on, and i am stirring.
Laura
the chocolate chips in a bowl of cookie dough batter with your little sister on a Saturday afternoon while listening to the radio, she looks up to you
Troy
He stirred under the blankets. Something was wrong. What? He reached out a hand and felt his heart skip a beat. She was gone. He shot up in bed. Oh god. She’d left him for real this time, hadn’t she? She’d gotten tired of him and had taken off in the night and he deserved it, didn’t he, oh god, what had he done? The door opened.
the spoon is gentle wood and it seems to meld
into the soft, vast expanse of your forearm
like it’s a part of it
like you’re a tree
branching out
but then I’m a leaf, I’m a shot-down,
turned-around,
twisted and broken
sapling
let me stir the cake mixture,
let’s continue skipping school.
The pot boiled over. I had become distracted by the smell of the contents, and drifted off into my imagination on what it would be like to eat again. I stirred it, hoping to settle its roiling—a fitting comparison to the anticipation I felt rising within myself.
Stir the tea into coffee and drink down the confusion, its just one of those days. Keep popping the toast down until it matches the blackness of your mood. It catches into flames. You sign and walk out the door, you will not be back.
stiring up my heart actually it is tearing up my heart , it is the song from NSYNC album since 1999 this is the boyband i had drush on when I was
Her eyes stirred feelings so deep inside me that I choked. Tears burned my air. I closed them instead. I closed entirely, I ceased to breathe
add in the sugar
plus the salt, plus the mint
plus the everything
then stir
’til tasteless
Mix up your thoughts. Let go the negative ones, stir them in your mind till they get evaporated. It is as simple as the word. S-T-I-R.
He began to stir in his sleep; it was the nightmares. There was a man, at the end of the street, staring. Next was the screaming. Loud and painful.
Pour coffee in a mug. Milk and sugar, add a stir.
There’s a picture on the wall; steal a glance, remember her.
Sink into the chair. Take a sip, make it last.
There’s less in your future than there is in your past.
Stir this crap around. Shake this chaotic town. Change it now! Action necessary, results bound.
everything is stirred up in my mind. Every single breath that i took and every single thing that is inside my stomach. It stirs to the point that it hurts, thinking about how it never even got my attention before.
stir means to move. Stirring is also used for as a noun. To stir mens to wake up from a deep sleep. Stir is a four letter word.
Round and round and round we go. Horses galloping, up and down and round, and around again. I could bounce so many times, yet it changes nothing. This is still a merry-go-round, and my horse doesn’t go vertically.
He stirred in cream and vanilla.
He had a whole project due tomorrow too.
No pay attention. You’re at work.
Think about work.
Cream and vanilla. Whip for 30 seconds. There should be a light brownish colour.
And he had maths work too.
Ugh god.
What comes next. Pour previous mixture together. Mix at high speed.
Fix pie plate.
As he rolled out the dough for the crust his mind returned to school.
If I leave work at 10 then I can bike home by 10:30. My homework will take about six or seven hours. So at that rate I could go to sleep by……4:30 in the morning.
He felt like slamming his face with the rolling pin.
How had he gotten this far behind?
Oh yeah. Because every time he tried to work all he could think about was her.
And they had gone to a movie on his one night off.
Well it was his own fault.
He grinned. But he’d do it again in a second.
I stirred inside. I cried. I waited. I had to way to stop it. I could only wait. And wait. And wait. My fate was sealed in time and I was unable to rush it. It was not prodded or pressed by my tears nor by my anguish. I could only wait..
Well If your not making people fall over, then you haven’t done your job. Yeah, If their legs are firmly planted at the end of the show, oops. Guts can get so mixed up in their holes in the cavities there, so why not test that out.
it’s a cold afternoon. i’d like to stir some hot coffee before i could write poems and go back to sleep.
Only when you stop stirring your drink, will it subside, and fall back.. Only then will you be able to see things clear. We stir our mind, stir our heart for some change. We keep stirring. But what if the change is in not stirring? In letting the wave of emotions an excitement and wonder stabilize? So you balance out the variations? And see things from an outer eye. So once in a while, just stop stirring.
I can feel things stirring in my bones
Stirring in my stomach
Stirring at my throne
I wish he still loved me
And to this very day
It stirs my mind and everything I say
only when you stop stirring your drink, will it subside, n fall back.. only then will you be able to see things clear. We stir our mind, stir our heart for some change. we keep stirring. but what if the change is in not stirring? in letting the wave of emotions an excitement and wonder stabilize? So you balance out the variations? and see things from an outer eye. So once in a while, just stop stirring.
You know when you cook,you need to stir. Else you might just spoil the food you are making. Life works the same way,you need to stir it up,coz things which dont change eventually perish. You gotta keep moving. you gotta stir yourself from within.” A stir out of the depths”
Sometimes the stir would come from an external force,but believe me it is there just so that you dont go over or under cooked although it might look like someone is messing with your dish. You learn,gradually and sometimes only eventually .:)
making something: combining to MAKE NEW FROM two of more
stir potatoes, stir water, why would yous stir water, that’s dumb, unless there was something in the water, i like water, oh wait stir… duh! supposed to be writing about stir, stir things up and write about water, thats the way to do it, stir things up and don’t do what your told to do. so the outcome doesn;t even work right, and then you sit and wonder why you’re typing this instead of thinking it, oh because it told you to type about it. rather than thinking, so i am doing this right and the outcome will work.
Something stirred in my chest then, if only for a moment. Something red and raw and wriggling with life. It was my first encounter with the quality we know disdainfully as “humanity”–a minor chapter in my life that I would give all the fabled riches of the new world to forget.
She stirred after a painfully unsatisfying nap, one that seemed to drag on for the first few minutes but was interrupted at precisely the moment she began to drown into the comforts of sleep. Stirred, dazed, even agitated, she continued about her day with a sour expression.
These feelings, I cannot contain them. They are overwhelming me; controlling my every thought. I cannot breath without feeling them stir deep inside. Threatening to bubble over, they need to be noticed. They need to be fulfilled. But there is nothing I can do to quell this desire and maintain my own dignity.
Deja vu.
Haven’t I been here before? Before this screen, before this word, before those judgemental eyes of yours?
Anyway.
I could write about the feelings you stirred in me, like last time, but those don’t happen anymore.
I could write about the feelings I stir in you instead, this time, but those don’t happen anymore either.
I could write about the feelings of anyone that is not us, what stirs them, who leads them to hysteria – but I wouldn’t know, I was never close to any of them but you.
I could write about anything that would stir *something* in you, but I’m not sure I know about them either.
So it turned out that I wrote this, this thing about us not stirring – disturbing word, when repeated – anything in eachother, because it turns out, *that* still stirs me.
And the feeling was a stirring of the soul. He gasped and clean air rushed into his lungs for what felt like the first time in years. His body began to move, to break and build at the same time, pulling free of a stone like slumber which had consumed him for so long a time. He was free.
Stirring my tea with Grandmother’s bone china spoon, I wait for the clock to strike twelve. The bellowing sound will scatter the birds and rustle the leaves. I will, at that hour, as I do every Sunday after tea, take my leave.
quck the hit goes an the batter is whisking whisking all the while the eggs break the cake bakes the syrup takes its time. The whole is coming baking and rumming to come to dessert tonight. It is sweet. Sweeter than before.
The day began to stir with the sun. The flies awoke and moved listlessly, thought they’d be frantic soon enough. The elders rose and groaned, the children sprang up and tumbled down the stairs, seeking cereal.
the stirring of my heart rises and flutters because of you and it becomes a fluttering butterfly! of dear you amaze me, and you stir my soul
One night I heard something stir. I got out of bed to see what it was and saw a small child. I asked “Who are you?” and he replied, ” Don’t you recognize me?” I looked at his hair, his face, his eyes, and I could not, yet he seemed so familiar. I told him, “I’m sorry I don’t recognize you.” He said “Understandable, considering how much you have changed.” I awoke and when I went downstairs, I saw a picture from years ago and saw the boy. I asked my mother, “Who is that boy?” and she replied, “That’s you. Don’t you recognize yourself?” and all I could say was, “I guess not.”
The more she thought, the more she could feel the visions being stirred around in her head, consuming her entirely. She tried to distract herself, focus on something that wouldn’t hurt as much, but she couldn’t. It enveloped her entirely, the thoughts stirring around constantly.
The world stirs and nothing is the same and all of a sudden you remember that he’s dead. He’s gone. And so you keep stirring since everything is changing anyway so why not just keep stirring things up. No one cares until you’re gone anyway so who is going to notice that you’re going insane and you keep stirring until you can’t tell you want to die.
I was stirring. Everything was stirring. My head swimming, the words in my mouth swirling around adn around because I couldn’t help myself. My logic and words don’t line up and I swim and stir. The emotions and the everything stirs. I reach out to you but you’re stirring too, stirring away from me because you don’t understand what is wrong.
i stir in the chocolate syrup i have poured into my milk and it turns into a brown vortex of delight. It tastes so amazing
as though the very essence of who i am, is stuck inside a metal pot, its contents swirling, thicker as it turns, different vegetables sink to the bottom, coated in the mix… i am stirring. i am stirring. the fire burns beneath me, time is turning. slow, so slow, the low heat rages on, and i am stirring.
the chocolate chips in a bowl of cookie dough batter with your little sister on a Saturday afternoon while listening to the radio, she looks up to you
He stirred under the blankets. Something was wrong. What? He reached out a hand and felt his heart skip a beat. She was gone. He shot up in bed. Oh god. She’d left him for real this time, hadn’t she? She’d gotten tired of him and had taken off in the night and he deserved it, didn’t he, oh god, what had he done? The door opened.
“Breakfast?”
“…Oh.”