I remember his old straw hat and how on a clear, bright sunny day he would flip open the screen door and place it on his head, ready to start the day. My father the farmer. He was a good man. A hardworking man. The day I turned seventeen I left him all alone to pursue my dreams. My silly dreams. I broke his heart. I also never saw him again. He was dying, and I didn’t know. But I remember that straw hat.
amanda
he picked up his straw hat and placed it on top of his sweaty, curly hair. Even in the shade of his brim you can see the sun in his eyes as he smiled, winked then mounted himself back onto his trailer.
Bobaaaaaaaaaa in my mouth. Really that’s all I can think about because I’ve been craving boba tea for like 2 days now and there’s no where around here that sells it and I’m DYING. Ugh, I need to take a mini road trip into the next town over so I can get some of those yummy little tapioca balls in my teaaa! And there’s a thick straw that comes with it so this isn’t THAT off topic.
Whatever floats your boat, bro, I ain’t no kind of expert to be in some kind of position to make any sort of criticism, if you follow the type of flow I’m riding here. Straw hat, plastic hat, rubber hat — man, whatever. Just make sure you be good when you’re wearing that thing, ok, I’m always alive when you need me.
The last straw. In her hat. Which had been thoroughly chewed by her sister’s monster of a pet bulldog. A French bulldog, no less, which made it snobbish and cruel, to have destroyed her lovely straw hat.
And it was the last straw.
She picked him up, all fifty pounds of him, and hauled him toward the back door. He hung limply like a tonne of bricks, and she deposited him in the garden.
Straw hats, the utmost symbol of rural areas. Made out of the stalks of wheat, corn maybe, different types of grass. Hard to think of those bales of stray (or is it hay? or is it straw really?) as bunches of stalks. Sounds like stalkers for some reason…goodness this is rambling.
Allison
Straws remind me of when I was little and would bite the tips of the straws as I sucked up milk shakes. I always got chocolate milk shakes from McDonald’s. I still buy them. And I still bite down on my straws. My boyfriend loves it…He thinks it’s adorable.
Katrina
The massive heap stood in the center of the barn, the top reaching nearly to the rafters. Five children rushed to it, pressing through the earthy scent that the dry stalks exuded. With a small-whump!-they each leaped upon golden brown mounds, and the peak of the pile wobbled slightly in response.
The plastic tasted hard against her lips, though it reminded her of something smooth. The ability to suck as liquid was drawn from the recesses of the cup excited her. The glass suddenly felt cool to the touch, everything begin to feel. . electric
The straw crackled beneath his footsteps. Fragile, it cracked in his blistered fists as he broke through the pile, the smell of hay thick in his nostrils, and looked for the needle that he had dropped there a moment before. Never . . .
I put my mouth on the straw and sucked in. I don’t remember if I drank that much because I liked the drink or I was trying to drown myself. Drown myself in sorrow. In my misery. In my pathetic existence. I don’t even.
The straw bedding poked out of the mattress at odd angles, askew. Golden straw, old straw, young straw, around the prone body of a young man shivering in the cold. The attic loft was silent. Below there were voices, looking for him. But, they would not find him, the young black man thought.
Like finding a needle in a haystack, they said. It wouldn’t be easy. Nearly impossible. But did we listen? No. Of course not. When did we ever listen to what those bighat aristocrats had to say. We just plowed on, making our course to what would eventually be the greatest event in history:
Nat
Never, ever, ever wear a wool sweater to climb a haystack. I spent months picking out the straw. And it was my favourite sweater.
something you suck out of . i hate the big thick ones. they have red stripes on them .. sometimes. there are short ones, long ones, fat ones, skinny ones .. I love the bendy ones. those come in juice boxes. they help you drink your drink. they are curly ones ! those are awesome …
Cherie Gendron
His hair was straw. I lay beside him and realized he smelled like fresh hay. His eyes were blue and his skin blended into the hard tacked straw beneath and between us. I wanted to fall into his arms like a bird falling into a pool of cool water.
denise
how and why what straw to take the delicate pink or perhaps a blue
something to chew
nothing to chew
mouthforward and straightforward yet
nothing to chew
a straw to suck the very life
something to chew
lipsforward and straightforward yet
something to chew
something to remove
liza
His mouth was tasteless and his eyes visionless. He never gained weight, nor lost weight. Because straw styays the same. Thick, faded, yellow and rough. That’s all he was. A halloween decoration. Scarecrows have no souls.
Frankie Blue
“That’s the final straw. If I have to put up with your attitude any longer, I’m going to snap.”
“Um, I’m confused, if it is the final straw, then doesn’t that mean you’ve already reached your breaking point?”
“Shut up!”
Raymond Masters
“That’s the last straw!” Melanie screams as she throws her new ca-tour dress on the floor. “This is the complete wrong shade of pink! Can nobody do anything right around here?!” She yells as she stomps into her mom’s room to repeat her rant. Her mom sips her cocktail through an elegant straw as she offers her daughter sympathy. “I know, we’ll get it fixed right away. We would hate to have you going to the dinner with Gregory and your dress not even match his tie and handkerchief,” she rambles, adding in an unnoticed eye-roll.
A man shoved past me, sneering as I stooped down to pick up all of the plastic straws. Working in a fast food restaurant sucked. I sighed and shoveled the straws back into the cardboard box.
“Need some help?” It wasn’t a fimiliar voice. A man’s voice, deep and low.
It is dried up grass that people put in barns and feed their farm animals with. People use special machines that put them in bails. Some of them are wrapped in this green Glad Wrap stuff so the cows or sheep cant get to it till their supposed to.
Bernard Reyneke
the last straw was the first I ever had, can you tell me exactly what is the plan? is there someone waiting, somebody there, is there someone who would even care?
It’s time to burn the straw man. Too much stress and anxiety has passed through our hearts and it needs to be released. Burn the straw man and send our troubles up in smoke for the Gods to handle. Burn the straw man and scatter the ashes under the trees.
Jamy Gearhart Hillis
berrys
Emily
Straws are being used to drink from a cup. People drink the cup, as easy as from any other place. How sad; that we drink and eat from somewhere but we never tip and appreciate. That’s how it is in the spiritual realm; whereas we listened to a whole mess of preachings from different pastors but we never sow into their ministry; let us be grateful!
A straw can be lots of things as for instance a random company made a straw by making different flavours inside the STRAW!!!!
Goneburger AKA Finn
The Ninja walks in through the rundown town.
Wearing his golden straw hat.
Being watched by Oshiyami clan.
He walks with his head bowed.
Waiting…
Lonesome Wolf
Itchy, scratchy, dried up grass… to suck through, yummy thick shakes. Feels like my dads hair, the cows bed,straw- spelt backward is warts ew! raw war straw i don’t know:)
Itchy, scratchy, dried up grass… to suck through, yummy thick shakes. Feels like my dads hair, the cows bed,straw- spelt backward is warts ew!
kelly maaka
a narrow tube used to drkink fluids through, particularly useful for the bedridden, or more pertinently, those who inbibe in fast food fixes.Seemingly a modern in
Clutching the thin, final straw, you begin to hold your breath. Submerge you are, soon to be forgotten, swallowed my nature, becoming one with Mother Earth.
I remember his old straw hat and how on a clear, bright sunny day he would flip open the screen door and place it on his head, ready to start the day. My father the farmer. He was a good man. A hardworking man. The day I turned seventeen I left him all alone to pursue my dreams. My silly dreams. I broke his heart. I also never saw him again. He was dying, and I didn’t know. But I remember that straw hat.
he picked up his straw hat and placed it on top of his sweaty, curly hair. Even in the shade of his brim you can see the sun in his eyes as he smiled, winked then mounted himself back onto his trailer.
long.
good for drinking things.
plastic.
can be bendy.
all different colours.
Yellow and dry, crunch and hollow
Earthy smell
One little piece or a pile
Sustenance for life
Carbohydrates?
Bobaaaaaaaaaa in my mouth. Really that’s all I can think about because I’ve been craving boba tea for like 2 days now and there’s no where around here that sells it and I’m DYING. Ugh, I need to take a mini road trip into the next town over so I can get some of those yummy little tapioca balls in my teaaa! And there’s a thick straw that comes with it so this isn’t THAT off topic.
Whatever floats your boat, bro, I ain’t no kind of expert to be in some kind of position to make any sort of criticism, if you follow the type of flow I’m riding here. Straw hat, plastic hat, rubber hat — man, whatever. Just make sure you be good when you’re wearing that thing, ok, I’m always alive when you need me.
The last straw. In her hat. Which had been thoroughly chewed by her sister’s monster of a pet bulldog. A French bulldog, no less, which made it snobbish and cruel, to have destroyed her lovely straw hat.
And it was the last straw.
She picked him up, all fifty pounds of him, and hauled him toward the back door. He hung limply like a tonne of bricks, and she deposited him in the garden.
“No supper for you!”
Straw hats, the utmost symbol of rural areas. Made out of the stalks of wheat, corn maybe, different types of grass. Hard to think of those bales of stray (or is it hay? or is it straw really?) as bunches of stalks. Sounds like stalkers for some reason…goodness this is rambling.
Straws remind me of when I was little and would bite the tips of the straws as I sucked up milk shakes. I always got chocolate milk shakes from McDonald’s. I still buy them. And I still bite down on my straws. My boyfriend loves it…He thinks it’s adorable.
The massive heap stood in the center of the barn, the top reaching nearly to the rafters. Five children rushed to it, pressing through the earthy scent that the dry stalks exuded. With a small-whump!-they each leaped upon golden brown mounds, and the peak of the pile wobbled slightly in response.
The plastic tasted hard against her lips, though it reminded her of something smooth. The ability to suck as liquid was drawn from the recesses of the cup excited her. The glass suddenly felt cool to the touch, everything begin to feel. . electric
The straw crackled beneath his footsteps. Fragile, it cracked in his blistered fists as he broke through the pile, the smell of hay thick in his nostrils, and looked for the needle that he had dropped there a moment before. Never . . .
It is soft. It is fun. It makes strawbales. It is very, very, very soft. I would love some straw for a slide. I like it because it is nice to lay on.
The straw hung out his mouth, not one of those curly straws that everyone used to lunge for, but the standard size.
I put my mouth on the straw and sucked in. I don’t remember if I drank that much because I liked the drink or I was trying to drown myself. Drown myself in sorrow. In my misery. In my pathetic existence. I don’t even.
apples. right there on the bathroom sink. so plump. so out of place.
(the moment i stopped trusting you.)
The straw bedding poked out of the mattress at odd angles, askew. Golden straw, old straw, young straw, around the prone body of a young man shivering in the cold. The attic loft was silent. Below there were voices, looking for him. But, they would not find him, the young black man thought.
Like finding a needle in a haystack, they said. It wouldn’t be easy. Nearly impossible. But did we listen? No. Of course not. When did we ever listen to what those bighat aristocrats had to say. We just plowed on, making our course to what would eventually be the greatest event in history:
Never, ever, ever wear a wool sweater to climb a haystack. I spent months picking out the straw. And it was my favourite sweater.
something you suck out of . i hate the big thick ones. they have red stripes on them .. sometimes. there are short ones, long ones, fat ones, skinny ones .. I love the bendy ones. those come in juice boxes. they help you drink your drink. they are curly ones ! those are awesome …
His hair was straw. I lay beside him and realized he smelled like fresh hay. His eyes were blue and his skin blended into the hard tacked straw beneath and between us. I wanted to fall into his arms like a bird falling into a pool of cool water.
how and why what straw to take the delicate pink or perhaps a blue
something to chew
nothing to chew
mouthforward and straightforward yet
nothing to chew
a straw to suck the very life
something to chew
lipsforward and straightforward yet
something to chew
something to remove
His mouth was tasteless and his eyes visionless. He never gained weight, nor lost weight. Because straw styays the same. Thick, faded, yellow and rough. That’s all he was. A halloween decoration. Scarecrows have no souls.
“That’s the final straw. If I have to put up with your attitude any longer, I’m going to snap.”
“Um, I’m confused, if it is the final straw, then doesn’t that mean you’ve already reached your breaking point?”
“Shut up!”
“That’s the last straw!” Melanie screams as she throws her new ca-tour dress on the floor. “This is the complete wrong shade of pink! Can nobody do anything right around here?!” She yells as she stomps into her mom’s room to repeat her rant. Her mom sips her cocktail through an elegant straw as she offers her daughter sympathy. “I know, we’ll get it fixed right away. We would hate to have you going to the dinner with Gregory and your dress not even match his tie and handkerchief,” she rambles, adding in an unnoticed eye-roll.
A man shoved past me, sneering as I stooped down to pick up all of the plastic straws. Working in a fast food restaurant sucked. I sighed and shoveled the straws back into the cardboard box.
“Need some help?” It wasn’t a fimiliar voice. A man’s voice, deep and low.
It is dried up grass that people put in barns and feed their farm animals with. People use special machines that put them in bails. Some of them are wrapped in this green Glad Wrap stuff so the cows or sheep cant get to it till their supposed to.
the last straw was the first I ever had, can you tell me exactly what is the plan? is there someone waiting, somebody there, is there someone who would even care?
It’s time to burn the straw man. Too much stress and anxiety has passed through our hearts and it needs to be released. Burn the straw man and send our troubles up in smoke for the Gods to handle. Burn the straw man and scatter the ashes under the trees.
berrys
Straws are being used to drink from a cup. People drink the cup, as easy as from any other place. How sad; that we drink and eat from somewhere but we never tip and appreciate. That’s how it is in the spiritual realm; whereas we listened to a whole mess of preachings from different pastors but we never sow into their ministry; let us be grateful!
starwas are very very very i dont know you can drink fizzy drinks with it. how cool not. oh o time
Something simple
Wrapped in a straw hat
Who needs a brain?
All you need is simplicity
Wrapped in a straw hat
A straw can be lots of things as for instance a random company made a straw by making different flavours inside the STRAW!!!!
The Ninja walks in through the rundown town.
Wearing his golden straw hat.
Being watched by Oshiyami clan.
He walks with his head bowed.
Waiting…
Itchy, scratchy, dried up grass… to suck through, yummy thick shakes. Feels like my dads hair, the cows bed,straw- spelt backward is warts ew! raw war straw i don’t know:)
i just done the straw word, thats not fair.
Itchy, scratchy, dried up grass… to suck through, yummy thick shakes. Feels like my dads hair, the cows bed,straw- spelt backward is warts ew!
a narrow tube used to drkink fluids through, particularly useful for the bedridden, or more pertinently, those who inbibe in fast food fixes.Seemingly a modern in
Clutching the thin, final straw, you begin to hold your breath. Submerge you are, soon to be forgotten, swallowed my nature, becoming one with Mother Earth.