There had long sense been troubles in the gold market. The alchemists had in superior shows of slight of hand traded real gold for fake, and spread their malicious creation among the common folk.
He stands in the doorway, peeking out into the rehearsal space where the director is about to have some sort of mental breakdown. He motions to me, giving me a “come here” sign with his finger. “There’s gold hidden under that stage”, he tells me. Suddenly, I notice a wet puddle at my feet and a stench of homeless urine.
life is like gold . It glitters and shine , but what meets the eye is not real . Some people runs behind everything thta glitters , without realsing if it is gold or not .
kamal
Everything used to be under control until we started searching for gold. It isn’t even valuable anyway, now that I think of it. Yes, it can be exchanged for money; yes, it can be used in jewelry. But it made my life miserable. I was a fool, a fool, to go out every day in that hot, stinking air, looking for the smallest pieces, the most microscopic bits of gold: the ones that were overlooked by the big millionaires who had cleared out most of it. Well, I got my gold. But every time I walk past that beautiful gold necklace mounted on a pillow in my living room, I want to throw up.
Isis
When I hear the word gold it makes me think of someone who is really rich. I also think of old times and the Oregon Trail.
Kyndall Winkelman
All that glitters can be construed as gold.
All that’s gold can be construed as good.
All that good is the way to a fulfilling life?
All that is fulfilling is gold?
Careful where you put your ambition.
davydoright
Being inside of her was like basking in the sun. He’d never felt so blessed. He’d always had plenty of money, but that was the only time he ever felt truly rich. It only lasted 5 minutes, and cost two gold coins, but the experience was priceless.
There was a gold there when he tilted his head. The light caught his eyes that were usually dark and showed me that no, they were made of amber. They were flakes of gold leaf. They were precious. They were beautiful.
I don’t know why he always said he has “shit brown” eyes. . . I feel like the color of his eyes could save my life.
“Oh my god, yes!” she exclaimed, looking down at the man on one knee. He had a golden ring in a velvet box. He stood up and slid it on. Gold with a large diamond. She looked at him, knowing this was how she wanted to spend the rest of her life. With him.
Cheyenne
Yellow. Flowers. The sun breaking over the horizon as I look back on land from the boat deck. There’s wind on my face and the light catches the waves to twinkle. My mom used to tell me that twinkle meant that everything was going to be okay, and we would get back to shore safe. That twinkle was my friend. As long as it was there, we’d be okay. Gold. So much more than just a color… worth.
Izzy
Shear weight is never the price
It lands softly, but plummets the surface under
I
yasmeen
There was a gold glimmer in her eye, as I peered into it. It wasn’t a color, nor the actual material, but a feeling she must have had when she saw me. I could tell that she wanted something. She lusted after it. There was an aura in the room that made me feel wanted. Craved. Should I give this girl my flesh? If its so radiant in her eyes, should she have it?
Nicholas Engels
Her hair was gold, and his was black. But as they stood together it wove into a beautiful blend of of love.
the clouds had turned a pretty pink-gold and for a minute i was overwhelmed by just how pretty the sky had become. reluctantly, i turned back to the task at hand – hanging up the laundry. you’d think that in 2014 there aren’t any people who actually hand up laundry, what with a dryer in every house and all, but you’d be wrong.
cosmic
Gold is a precious metal that I love to wear. However, a heart of gold is worth so much more.
It sparkled in the moonlight, beckoning me closer. It was a life or death situation. I crouched low and… jumped.
Scmidaldhaven Guptra III
Golden were her locks flowing down her shoulder blades hiding two ugly scars left in place of wings. Oh, he remembered when she had had her wings. The feathers were black as coal and their sweep was as strong as the wind itself. It was a shame, really, for her to loose them so stupidly.
Her hair was golden. She was so beautiful. But was she my dreamgirl? I don´t know.. If i think about it, I would say: She is a beauty, but one of that girls, who are cheerleader and bullying that freaks at school. Could I accept it? To have a girl, everybody likes, who ist well-behaved, when she wants something, but to other people horrible?
It was a fool’s errand she told him. Wait ’til Helen saw this lump of gold he found. It seemed to be pulsing under theaklrejklawej
Punchline: it’s fool’s gold.
I don’t do deadlines. So
Alex
this is what they use to compare things they consider valuable, precious, worthy of affection, attention and love. this is what diminishes true treasures into stereotypical standards of worth they call, “gold.”
shiela
Flashy like the rays shinning off the sun! Giving light to everything that is knowledge. We ask ourselves in a moment unexpected… What does this offer me? Can I become everything that I’m not at this very moment? Is there anything that can stop me now!! My eyes shine with love and greed. May no one see my treasure that has descended upon my very being, but God himself. For it is he that has allowed me to live to see this spectacular experience. An experience that will forever change me in more ways than I will ever know as a person. I sit here with sweat drizzling down my face. Intermixing with the dark ashy coal that resides in the crevasses in my wrinkles…..
Peter Vongsa
never been awake enough to form
coherent sentences
i’m more of a poet with no form
the lack of laughter
don’t ask me i already know
words gilded like gold
precious but too expensive
hard to
and out of
reach
a cracked caked smile
fulfilling not too much
but giving us all we want.
matt m
The golden blonde of her hair was easy to see in the light of the sun. It was the last day that they had seen her, the girl with blonde hair, and her sister, the girl with silver hair. But it did not mean they broke, for they kept looking.
Cat Rawr
His head felt like an overcrowded room, filled with an anxious and meddling mess of people who have accumulated over time from everyone you wish you had never met. He hated this, he hated her, he hated everyone, especially himself. Maybe it was only himself who he hated. Maybe it was the gold ring band on his finger, which constricted the flow of blood from his finger to his heart.
the men of our world have done terrible things in the name of such a simple object. A glimmering piece of metal that emerged from our world like the spit from a man, and we’ve been driven to bloodshed for it. Why? What is it’s true worth? And why is it the standard on which human beauty is placed?
Harrison
All that glitters isn’t gold was written on the door of her room. He decided not to knock and turned away. He could hear a silent waltz fly through his head, that filled the empty room of his apartment, and that carried on like particles of sand past the window and into the night sky and joined the stars in their empty glow.
Go for the gold. Its a saying in my family. One that can become truth for my swimmer siblings. For me, I’m not sure what it means. I pretend I want great success. But I think I would be happy with a high school job and a happy family. In my family that isn’t enough though. They have worked too hard for me to be mediocre… what a hard life to try to fit into.
It thrives in the deepest pits of the earth. Man craves this tiny piece of metal as if it were love. As if to fill the greed inside them . But alas a rock does not keep you warm, a rock does not love you, a rock is a simple shiny thing in the earth. Why we value it so much is beyond me
quinn
His heart was gold. The light shone out of him as if sent from the sun itself. He looked so powerful, so godlike. His face shone of the all the different hues of yellow and orange, a sea of sunlight. His eyes glowed with the power of what he had just become and what he could achieve.
What I hold and find so precious. All that glitters is mine to behold. There is only so much, no one can have enough. We’re always searching for that elusive vein that never materializes.
Her bracelet jiggled seductively u and down her wrist as she dealt out the cards–slap, slap, slap on the table. I watched the charms spin, feeling like a peeping Tom somehow even though…well, that’s the point of bracelets like that, right? To look. To imagine what it must mean. This one is a teddy bear. Now a turtle.
“I’m rich, I’m rich!” Jeb cackled, a crazed and wild look in his eyes as he held the golden nuggets in his hands. “Lookit, Marge! We’ll never have to worry for a darn thing!” He shoved his grimy hands in my face and I politely nodded, offering a quick but fake smile. With that I slowly backed away from him, a bit rattled, as he continued to say a mess of gibberish. I took off for the cabin at the top of the hill, realizing that gold fever had hit every single person in town and it was beginning to turn even the smartest minds into mush.
AJ Kenobi
The colour of wheat on a midsummer day when the sun is shining bright, the sky is cloudless, and there’s just a whisper of wind. It’s not too hot; but just right, and I picture myself laying on the grass with you, among the gold of the grain and the sun, and I am content.
With 100 pieces of gold what could one do? I mean pirates would buy rum too stale to taste, kings would pile it up in a locked room somewhere deep inside something random just because they can, painters would get more paint and try to sell themselves, strangers at the bar would pay for a round on them for the whole house, but what should I do tonight? Saving it in these times is a dangerous thought and I’m doing just fine with the simple things I’ve got. Hmm… how about I take you out for a tour of the town? How does that sound?
The sun rose, painting a shimmer of gold over the surface of the sea, lighting up the trees on the hill like a forest fire. Another beautiful day had begun, but it was cold and empty without her.
tonykeyesjapan
all treasure,
if left long enough.
becomes trash,
old.
all trash,
if melted long enough
becomes treasure,
gold.
There had long sense been troubles in the gold market. The alchemists had in superior shows of slight of hand traded real gold for fake, and spread their malicious creation among the common folk.
He stands in the doorway, peeking out into the rehearsal space where the director is about to have some sort of mental breakdown. He motions to me, giving me a “come here” sign with his finger. “There’s gold hidden under that stage”, he tells me. Suddenly, I notice a wet puddle at my feet and a stench of homeless urine.
White gold. Silver shine.
Hand me the wine.
The glass now.
Hear the ringing cup.
Celebration time.
life is like gold . It glitters and shine , but what meets the eye is not real . Some people runs behind everything thta glitters , without realsing if it is gold or not .
Everything used to be under control until we started searching for gold. It isn’t even valuable anyway, now that I think of it. Yes, it can be exchanged for money; yes, it can be used in jewelry. But it made my life miserable. I was a fool, a fool, to go out every day in that hot, stinking air, looking for the smallest pieces, the most microscopic bits of gold: the ones that were overlooked by the big millionaires who had cleared out most of it. Well, I got my gold. But every time I walk past that beautiful gold necklace mounted on a pillow in my living room, I want to throw up.
When I hear the word gold it makes me think of someone who is really rich. I also think of old times and the Oregon Trail.
All that glitters can be construed as gold.
All that’s gold can be construed as good.
All that good is the way to a fulfilling life?
All that is fulfilling is gold?
Careful where you put your ambition.
Being inside of her was like basking in the sun. He’d never felt so blessed. He’d always had plenty of money, but that was the only time he ever felt truly rich. It only lasted 5 minutes, and cost two gold coins, but the experience was priceless.
There was a gold there when he tilted his head. The light caught his eyes that were usually dark and showed me that no, they were made of amber. They were flakes of gold leaf. They were precious. They were beautiful.
I don’t know why he always said he has “shit brown” eyes. . . I feel like the color of his eyes could save my life.
“Oh my god, yes!” she exclaimed, looking down at the man on one knee. He had a golden ring in a velvet box. He stood up and slid it on. Gold with a large diamond. She looked at him, knowing this was how she wanted to spend the rest of her life. With him.
Yellow. Flowers. The sun breaking over the horizon as I look back on land from the boat deck. There’s wind on my face and the light catches the waves to twinkle. My mom used to tell me that twinkle meant that everything was going to be okay, and we would get back to shore safe. That twinkle was my friend. As long as it was there, we’d be okay. Gold. So much more than just a color… worth.
Shear weight is never the price
It lands softly, but plummets the surface under
I
There was a gold glimmer in her eye, as I peered into it. It wasn’t a color, nor the actual material, but a feeling she must have had when she saw me. I could tell that she wanted something. She lusted after it. There was an aura in the room that made me feel wanted. Craved. Should I give this girl my flesh? If its so radiant in her eyes, should she have it?
Her hair was gold, and his was black. But as they stood together it wove into a beautiful blend of of love.
so many variations on the theme
the clouds had turned a pretty pink-gold and for a minute i was overwhelmed by just how pretty the sky had become. reluctantly, i turned back to the task at hand – hanging up the laundry. you’d think that in 2014 there aren’t any people who actually hand up laundry, what with a dryer in every house and all, but you’d be wrong.
Gold is a precious metal that I love to wear. However, a heart of gold is worth so much more.
It sparkled in the moonlight, beckoning me closer. It was a life or death situation. I crouched low and… jumped.
Golden were her locks flowing down her shoulder blades hiding two ugly scars left in place of wings. Oh, he remembered when she had had her wings. The feathers were black as coal and their sweep was as strong as the wind itself. It was a shame, really, for her to loose them so stupidly.
Her hair was golden. She was so beautiful. But was she my dreamgirl? I don´t know.. If i think about it, I would say: She is a beauty, but one of that girls, who are cheerleader and bullying that freaks at school. Could I accept it? To have a girl, everybody likes, who ist well-behaved, when she wants something, but to other people horrible?
It was a fool’s errand she told him. Wait ’til Helen saw this lump of gold he found. It seemed to be pulsing under theaklrejklawej
Punchline: it’s fool’s gold.
I don’t do deadlines. So
this is what they use to compare things they consider valuable, precious, worthy of affection, attention and love. this is what diminishes true treasures into stereotypical standards of worth they call, “gold.”
Flashy like the rays shinning off the sun! Giving light to everything that is knowledge. We ask ourselves in a moment unexpected… What does this offer me? Can I become everything that I’m not at this very moment? Is there anything that can stop me now!! My eyes shine with love and greed. May no one see my treasure that has descended upon my very being, but God himself. For it is he that has allowed me to live to see this spectacular experience. An experience that will forever change me in more ways than I will ever know as a person. I sit here with sweat drizzling down my face. Intermixing with the dark ashy coal that resides in the crevasses in my wrinkles…..
never been awake enough to form
coherent sentences
i’m more of a poet with no form
the lack of laughter
don’t ask me i already know
words gilded like gold
precious but too expensive
hard to
and out of
reach
a cracked caked smile
fulfilling not too much
but giving us all we want.
The golden blonde of her hair was easy to see in the light of the sun. It was the last day that they had seen her, the girl with blonde hair, and her sister, the girl with silver hair. But it did not mean they broke, for they kept looking.
His head felt like an overcrowded room, filled with an anxious and meddling mess of people who have accumulated over time from everyone you wish you had never met. He hated this, he hated her, he hated everyone, especially himself. Maybe it was only himself who he hated. Maybe it was the gold ring band on his finger, which constricted the flow of blood from his finger to his heart.
the men of our world have done terrible things in the name of such a simple object. A glimmering piece of metal that emerged from our world like the spit from a man, and we’ve been driven to bloodshed for it. Why? What is it’s true worth? And why is it the standard on which human beauty is placed?
All that glitters isn’t gold was written on the door of her room. He decided not to knock and turned away. He could hear a silent waltz fly through his head, that filled the empty room of his apartment, and that carried on like particles of sand past the window and into the night sky and joined the stars in their empty glow.
Go for the gold. Its a saying in my family. One that can become truth for my swimmer siblings. For me, I’m not sure what it means. I pretend I want great success. But I think I would be happy with a high school job and a happy family. In my family that isn’t enough though. They have worked too hard for me to be mediocre… what a hard life to try to fit into.
It thrives in the deepest pits of the earth. Man craves this tiny piece of metal as if it were love. As if to fill the greed inside them . But alas a rock does not keep you warm, a rock does not love you, a rock is a simple shiny thing in the earth. Why we value it so much is beyond me
His heart was gold. The light shone out of him as if sent from the sun itself. He looked so powerful, so godlike. His face shone of the all the different hues of yellow and orange, a sea of sunlight. His eyes glowed with the power of what he had just become and what he could achieve.
What I hold and find so precious. All that glitters is mine to behold. There is only so much, no one can have enough. We’re always searching for that elusive vein that never materializes.
i open my hand and there you are
written in wrinkles
and spaces between fingers
and lines that fold and unfold and go on.
you are the secret in my smile
you, on the tip of my tongue
you are a song and i’m learning the words,
you on the horizon and you in the sun,
a dot of gold
a grain of sand
and this is the crescendo these are the chords;
i open my palms to the evening gold, a promise.
…
Her bracelet jiggled seductively u and down her wrist as she dealt out the cards–slap, slap, slap on the table. I watched the charms spin, feeling like a peeping Tom somehow even though…well, that’s the point of bracelets like that, right? To look. To imagine what it must mean. This one is a teddy bear. Now a turtle.
“Are you playing or not, Jimmy?”
“I’m rich, I’m rich!” Jeb cackled, a crazed and wild look in his eyes as he held the golden nuggets in his hands. “Lookit, Marge! We’ll never have to worry for a darn thing!” He shoved his grimy hands in my face and I politely nodded, offering a quick but fake smile. With that I slowly backed away from him, a bit rattled, as he continued to say a mess of gibberish. I took off for the cabin at the top of the hill, realizing that gold fever had hit every single person in town and it was beginning to turn even the smartest minds into mush.
The colour of wheat on a midsummer day when the sun is shining bright, the sky is cloudless, and there’s just a whisper of wind. It’s not too hot; but just right, and I picture myself laying on the grass with you, among the gold of the grain and the sun, and I am content.
With 100 pieces of gold what could one do? I mean pirates would buy rum too stale to taste, kings would pile it up in a locked room somewhere deep inside something random just because they can, painters would get more paint and try to sell themselves, strangers at the bar would pay for a round on them for the whole house, but what should I do tonight? Saving it in these times is a dangerous thought and I’m doing just fine with the simple things I’ve got. Hmm… how about I take you out for a tour of the town? How does that sound?
The sun rose, painting a shimmer of gold over the surface of the sea, lighting up the trees on the hill like a forest fire. Another beautiful day had begun, but it was cold and empty without her.
all treasure,
if left long enough.
becomes trash,
old.
all trash,
if melted long enough
becomes treasure,
gold.