Twisting around my finger while I sit in the theater watching an interesting movie on the big screen. Red and delicious, just so tasty. Wish I had more!
Vines are long stemmed things that can grow upward and can create a weird look
kelly
The magestic vines were entrancing. Just to swing and forget all your troubles and sorrows as is they weren’t there. As if tomorrow was as bright as your expectations. For a second you can close your eyes and pretend to be happy.
Alii
Vines up my University buildings, walking on the adjacent side-walk, they just seem like an infection. Since when have ivy vines become synonymous with academic prowess, is academic prowess even a feat? Shouldn’t we decry those who subsist on the finances of their parents and recluses who think they are more entitled than others for it? I guess my respect for a man or woman juggling jobs and dreams have no place here. What’s disheartening is that I see no avenue to change any of that.
grapes
the time my grandfather built a grapevine seat chair rail thing
it was beautiful
golden wood
not glossed
but natural
and the grapes held on for their dear lives
juicy droplets
and they curled their fingers around the crisscrosses
the grapes grew until they were closest
to the sun
the warmth.
Katherine
I live in a place upon which pain, struggle, hope fear, and all fall unto prey of the jungles. Save me. Save me. Save me, the vines wrap around me to keep me from you, you , and you. Let me out.
Step
In the cedar tree near the edge of the drive, a vine of honeysuckle wraps around the branches choking the life from the evergreen. Yet, the hummingbirds
In the cedar tree near the edge of the blacktop drive is a vine of honeysuckle. In the spring it smells sweet and the hummingbirds visit it often.
cindy carden
I should have known. I should have remembered from last time. Last time, he consumed my thoughts every waking moment. I wanted to be with him when I wasn’t. I thought we were going to evolve into what I wanted. But we didn’t.
And now his figure lives in my brain every second that I’m not thinking about what I need to do to make it through another day. But I’m not as innocent this time. I’m not as stupid. The conversations weave through my mind like intersecting vines. I don’t want to think about him. But I do. Because I messed up once again, and it hurts like hell all over again.
grapes of wrath, entwined with, spines reaching for our souls, grasping, tightening their rope-like hole, making me churn without any thing to hold on to, to climb out of this hole with I
Tiffany Lahchonna
Between the vines the intrepid predator curled and writhed about, mimicking the very flora that surrounded it. With electric eyes divided by feral slits, rows of ivory pyramids slowly emerged from its lips and shone in the thin beams of moonlight that invaded the dense canopy. Prey was near.
constricting my heart
vines tangle and turn
threatening with thorns to rip and tear
but I will grow stronger because of them
I will stand strong
and tall
allowing them to enfold me
becoming my armor
not my walls
Nia Ceridwyn
They grew like arms, along the wall of the house. Pulling at the timbers and snaking their way through the windows. Along the ceilings and floors, spidery fingers finding cracks in the surface. The bugs they attracted were brightly colored and beautiful.
The vines of grapes trapped in vineyards open the gates to a millionaire service and yet the vines are spread all around me.
jane
They’re beautifully destructive. You see them snaking their way up an old building and you know they’re supposed to be ugly, but they’re nature taking back what is theirs, and that’s amazing. Green and lively and ever-expanding. Demanding to be seen.
Elizabeth
i stumble through the forest, tripping over vines. I have to get away.. I need to get away. Hes there. I can feel him behind me. Running, yelling, trying to reach me. my heart gives out. Im dead. At last… its over…
Laura Dunham
luminescent, pearly grapes cling to the vines
the vines weave across the veranda
framing the sturdy brown-brick house with delicacy
something is off
the sturdy and the delicate don’t match
well neither do the baby-shine grapes
and their mangled, rotting seeds
Alison
They’re all around, entangling, strangling, thickening. They blot out the sunlight. I sink deeper and deeper, and they close around me.
Vines are those earthy green ropes that Tarzan swings on (Jane swings, too, when she’s feeling adventurous or when forced). I want to live where vines are highways. No more traffic signals, fender-benders, or rush hours – just grab a vine and go, go, go. Fly.
Vines are those earthy green ropes that Tarzan swings on (Jane swings, too, when she’s feeling adventurous or when forced). I want to live where vines are like highways. No more traffic signals, fender-benders, or rush hours – just grab a vine and go.
R. L. Bennett
“Uh, Jay?”
“Hush up, I’m trying to read this.”
They were in a dark, dank cave, and Jon wondered for about the four-hundredth time why he was always letting her talk him into these excursions about the castle’s secret passages. The answer his heart provided was the same: he was hopelessly and completely in love with her.
“Jay,” he repeated, his voice deceptively calm. “Jay, I’m being slowly entrapped in vines.”
She whirled around, and he couldn’t deny the little twinge of happiness at the fear that flashed across her eyes; he couldn’t deny loving that, try as she might, she couldn’t hide that she cared.
vines hung down from the banisters on the second floor and reached up from the ground like arms reaching for each other to embrace. or perhaps teeth enclosing around their victim.
here everything is connected.
we are all some how woven together like vines.
every little thing you do will effect someone you know.
because you know everyone.
and everyone is judging.
you.
vines grow along the side of the rough bricks. They look for what they need, holding on tightly. They hear it all and see it all but no one notices. They will grow on and still no one will notice until they have taken over
cat
Creeping up the old, Victorian-style home that hadn’t seen any inhabitants in years. Ropes of green vines, tangled and spreading everywhere; covering everything in a coat of green which gave off an eerie feeling, like they were trying to hide something.
the vines were groing on thie side of an old abandoned mill. The brilliant green of the leaves were in stark contrast to the old dirty red brick. These vines climbed the brick in a angled accent until they reached a busted out window on the sceond flood of the mill. the vines snaked their way throught the jagged remains of glass and dissappeared from view into the b;ack gapping abyess of the old mill.
Alicia Thomas
Red vines on the seat barrier between us as we watch the movie on the screen. I slowly pick one up. Twizzle it around my finger. Chew a bit, in what i hope to be a slightly seductive or at least cute manner. I’m not into the movie at all don’t care about the Mila Kunis-esque girl on the screen all I really care about is you, and your breathing right next to me. I peek out the corner of my eye and edge my hand slowly over the barrier, the red vine flavor still sweetening my mouth, blurring my judgement. But I do this only to find you’ve grabbed my fingers quickly, hungry.
You turn to me a twinkle in your eye.
“Sorry.”
Vines of grapes, like the ones in my backyard hanging above the poolhouse. I used to spend hours eating them with my dad, although the extreme sour taste was not present. We would compete over who could eat the most.
Haley
Vines of grapes, like the ones in my back yard. I used to eat the grapes with my dad, even though they tasted awful. They were so sour! Then exterminator put bug spray on them so we couldn’t eat them them, so the tradition discontinued. I’d like to try one again to refeel my childhood.
Haley
The vine has it’s own perspective. It keeps traveling in constant motion while it sees and hears the world. Sucks it all dry,searching for water, always seeing what is going on and who is near and how they feel.
cat
so they start… and go… and go… on and on and on. At least Tarzan found them useful.
Julian L Kruger
Vines wrap around tress. Vines don’t get any significant acknowledgment. They represent beauty in a twisted and different way. Vines go in any direction they want; metaphor for success
Sam Metivier
vines grow around and around objects, they climb toward the sun and hold on tight, like a child grabbing your leg when they are frightened.
robin
the grape vines climb slowly up the almost rotten trellises that adorn the vineyard feilds. this is truly the flowering buds of a mid summers day
Kelly
entangle me
trap me
the vines of your love
suffocate and choke me
leave me blue
and tear stained-red
you’ve caught me
and we can’t let go
zzz
The ivy crawls around the hard iron bars of the gate. The garden’s version of a “Keep out” sign, because only those worthy and imaginative can enter. For the beauty isn’t physical or tangible. It’s what one beholds in their mind.
vines…twisting, growing, hard, connecting, like family and bearing fruit in the same way. vines….life
Carrie
You know vines are really dangerous, well thats’s what Uncle Ben says anyway. I think their quite orkward and obskure, you know some vines have sharp needles sticking out of them ready hurt you.
Twisting around my finger while I sit in the theater watching an interesting movie on the big screen. Red and delicious, just so tasty. Wish I had more!
Vines are long stemmed things that can grow upward and can create a weird look
The magestic vines were entrancing. Just to swing and forget all your troubles and sorrows as is they weren’t there. As if tomorrow was as bright as your expectations. For a second you can close your eyes and pretend to be happy.
Vines up my University buildings, walking on the adjacent side-walk, they just seem like an infection. Since when have ivy vines become synonymous with academic prowess, is academic prowess even a feat? Shouldn’t we decry those who subsist on the finances of their parents and recluses who think they are more entitled than others for it? I guess my respect for a man or woman juggling jobs and dreams have no place here. What’s disheartening is that I see no avenue to change any of that.
grapes
the time my grandfather built a grapevine seat chair rail thing
it was beautiful
golden wood
not glossed
but natural
and the grapes held on for their dear lives
juicy droplets
and they curled their fingers around the crisscrosses
the grapes grew until they were closest
to the sun
the warmth.
I live in a place upon which pain, struggle, hope fear, and all fall unto prey of the jungles. Save me. Save me. Save me, the vines wrap around me to keep me from you, you , and you. Let me out.
In the cedar tree near the edge of the drive, a vine of honeysuckle wraps around the branches choking the life from the evergreen. Yet, the hummingbirds
In the cedar tree near the edge of the blacktop drive is a vine of honeysuckle. In the spring it smells sweet and the hummingbirds visit it often.
I should have known. I should have remembered from last time. Last time, he consumed my thoughts every waking moment. I wanted to be with him when I wasn’t. I thought we were going to evolve into what I wanted. But we didn’t.
And now his figure lives in my brain every second that I’m not thinking about what I need to do to make it through another day. But I’m not as innocent this time. I’m not as stupid. The conversations weave through my mind like intersecting vines. I don’t want to think about him. But I do. Because I messed up once again, and it hurts like hell all over again.
Old dry vines covered the side of the building. The door, partially engulfed by their growth stood half open, intriguing and inviting.
grapes of wrath, entwined with, spines reaching for our souls, grasping, tightening their rope-like hole, making me churn without any thing to hold on to, to climb out of this hole with I
Between the vines the intrepid predator curled and writhed about, mimicking the very flora that surrounded it. With electric eyes divided by feral slits, rows of ivory pyramids slowly emerged from its lips and shone in the thin beams of moonlight that invaded the dense canopy. Prey was near.
bear me grapes to wield my wine
prick me not
your lure divine
swing through space
and feel the rush
adrenaline, the sickest lust.
constricting my heart
vines tangle and turn
threatening with thorns to rip and tear
but I will grow stronger because of them
I will stand strong
and tall
allowing them to enfold me
becoming my armor
not my walls
They grew like arms, along the wall of the house. Pulling at the timbers and snaking their way through the windows. Along the ceilings and floors, spidery fingers finding cracks in the surface. The bugs they attracted were brightly colored and beautiful.
The vines of grapes trapped in vineyards open the gates to a millionaire service and yet the vines are spread all around me.
They’re beautifully destructive. You see them snaking their way up an old building and you know they’re supposed to be ugly, but they’re nature taking back what is theirs, and that’s amazing. Green and lively and ever-expanding. Demanding to be seen.
i stumble through the forest, tripping over vines. I have to get away.. I need to get away. Hes there. I can feel him behind me. Running, yelling, trying to reach me. my heart gives out. Im dead. At last… its over…
luminescent, pearly grapes cling to the vines
the vines weave across the veranda
framing the sturdy brown-brick house with delicacy
something is off
the sturdy and the delicate don’t match
well neither do the baby-shine grapes
and their mangled, rotting seeds
They’re all around, entangling, strangling, thickening. They blot out the sunlight. I sink deeper and deeper, and they close around me.
Darkness.
1..2..3..
Light.
They’re moving away.
A face appears.
Maybe I wasn’t so far gone after all.
Vines are those earthy green ropes that Tarzan swings on (Jane swings, too, when she’s feeling adventurous or when forced). I want to live where vines are highways. No more traffic signals, fender-benders, or rush hours – just grab a vine and go, go, go. Fly.
Vines are those earthy green ropes that Tarzan swings on (Jane swings, too, when she’s feeling adventurous or when forced). I want to live where vines are like highways. No more traffic signals, fender-benders, or rush hours – just grab a vine and go.
“Uh, Jay?”
“Hush up, I’m trying to read this.”
They were in a dark, dank cave, and Jon wondered for about the four-hundredth time why he was always letting her talk him into these excursions about the castle’s secret passages. The answer his heart provided was the same: he was hopelessly and completely in love with her.
“Jay,” he repeated, his voice deceptively calm. “Jay, I’m being slowly entrapped in vines.”
She whirled around, and he couldn’t deny the little twinge of happiness at the fear that flashed across her eyes; he couldn’t deny loving that, try as she might, she couldn’t hide that she cared.
vines hung down from the banisters on the second floor and reached up from the ground like arms reaching for each other to embrace. or perhaps teeth enclosing around their victim.
here everything is connected.
we are all some how woven together like vines.
every little thing you do will effect someone you know.
because you know everyone.
and everyone is judging.
you.
vines grow along the side of the rough bricks. They look for what they need, holding on tightly. They hear it all and see it all but no one notices. They will grow on and still no one will notice until they have taken over
Creeping up the old, Victorian-style home that hadn’t seen any inhabitants in years. Ropes of green vines, tangled and spreading everywhere; covering everything in a coat of green which gave off an eerie feeling, like they were trying to hide something.
the vines were groing on thie side of an old abandoned mill. The brilliant green of the leaves were in stark contrast to the old dirty red brick. These vines climbed the brick in a angled accent until they reached a busted out window on the sceond flood of the mill. the vines snaked their way throught the jagged remains of glass and dissappeared from view into the b;ack gapping abyess of the old mill.
Red vines on the seat barrier between us as we watch the movie on the screen. I slowly pick one up. Twizzle it around my finger. Chew a bit, in what i hope to be a slightly seductive or at least cute manner. I’m not into the movie at all don’t care about the Mila Kunis-esque girl on the screen all I really care about is you, and your breathing right next to me. I peek out the corner of my eye and edge my hand slowly over the barrier, the red vine flavor still sweetening my mouth, blurring my judgement. But I do this only to find you’ve grabbed my fingers quickly, hungry.
You turn to me a twinkle in your eye.
“Sorry.”
Vines of grapes, like the ones in my backyard hanging above the poolhouse. I used to spend hours eating them with my dad, although the extreme sour taste was not present. We would compete over who could eat the most.
Vines of grapes, like the ones in my back yard. I used to eat the grapes with my dad, even though they tasted awful. They were so sour! Then exterminator put bug spray on them so we couldn’t eat them them, so the tradition discontinued. I’d like to try one again to refeel my childhood.
The vine has it’s own perspective. It keeps traveling in constant motion while it sees and hears the world. Sucks it all dry,searching for water, always seeing what is going on and who is near and how they feel.
so they start… and go… and go… on and on and on. At least Tarzan found them useful.
Vines wrap around tress. Vines don’t get any significant acknowledgment. They represent beauty in a twisted and different way. Vines go in any direction they want; metaphor for success
vines grow around and around objects, they climb toward the sun and hold on tight, like a child grabbing your leg when they are frightened.
the grape vines climb slowly up the almost rotten trellises that adorn the vineyard feilds. this is truly the flowering buds of a mid summers day
entangle me
trap me
the vines of your love
suffocate and choke me
leave me blue
and tear stained-red
you’ve caught me
and we can’t let go
The ivy crawls around the hard iron bars of the gate. The garden’s version of a “Keep out” sign, because only those worthy and imaginative can enter. For the beauty isn’t physical or tangible. It’s what one beholds in their mind.
vines…twisting, growing, hard, connecting, like family and bearing fruit in the same way. vines….life
You know vines are really dangerous, well thats’s what Uncle Ben says anyway. I think their quite orkward and obskure, you know some vines have sharp needles sticking out of them ready hurt you.