shaken but not perturbed i said so as long as it doesn’t happen again we must hope that that is the end of this nonsense and trash and trash and nonsense.
Steve O
The earthquake has shaken. The building, the floors, the pictures of my parents from the walls, the brick chimney from the roof, my nerves, and my sense of safety in this small town.
Bryan
So shaken by the thought of having love walk by me and I not recognize its face. I lead life blinded by my own perceptions and my own love alone.
Jeannyn
not stirred. I thought that the quake had ended, but I guess not. I saw the car outside bopping like a Mexican supercar in LA. Apparently the trees liked the show, as they bowed pretty low. The stars jittered–not sure if in accompaniment or for their own separate fun. Either way, it was one of those little periods of earth that wake you up, and wake up your grand kids, if you can tell the story right.
Does this really stop at 60 seconds, and how can I tell as I type looking at my fingers?
Pat
It has been a hectic month. This entire escapade of university applications and CIEs have shaken me to my core. I have lost touch with my studying capabilities and don’t know what to do. This very word summaries how this entire last year of school has affected me both in my personal and professional life.
LTT
It has been a hectic month. This entire escapade of university applications and CIEs have shaken me to my core. I have lost touch with my studying capabilities and don’t know what to do. This very word summaries how this entire last year of school has affected me both in my personal and professional life.
Elizé
Her hands were trembling as the blade fell from her fingertips. She steps back and looks into the mirror- and she is horrified by her image. Her words come out soft and shaken, “I am a monster, what have I done?” Her body falls to the floor as she lets out long silent sobs of pain and confusion, she wonders why she is here, what did she do to deserve this?
Her hands were trembling as the blade fell from her fingertips. She steps back and looks into the mirror- and she is horrified by her image. Her words come out soft and shaken, “I am a monster, what have I done?”
You’re falling apart; shaken to the core. All right, I like being this thing. This thing that scares people out from underneath their beds. I know that I should hate myself, I know that I should hate everything that I have done. But, in perfect honestly, I cannot. I like being the monster underneath your bed.
t s
“No?”
“Not today.”
He then left without asking any further questions although he knew by the scent of his client’s breath and how he looked a bit shaken that he assumed–although he was very sure–that maybe he had drank a bit too much the night before.
the girl was shaking after the boy had asked her to marry him but once he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her over and over she calmed down and they both hand and hand walked into the sunset
Gods Girl
There was a boy with ginger hair curled up against the brick wall of the alley. His knees were tucked up to his chest and his body was littered with bruises. His frame shook as he sobbed into his arms. He looked up at the stars and the light of the moon illuminated his pale face. Tears streamed down his face from his amber eyes.
embr
The ground was shaken when there was a earthquake. And everything started moving.
Caden
The boy had a very short encounter with a robber in his house when he was home alone. The boy saw the man through a small hole in the window shades.
Caden
The small boy was very shaken by the encounter with a very scary man outside his house. The boy spied him out of his window.
Caden
“That’s the thing though, you don’t get to decide any more. This is mine. My life, my art, my show,” she hissed. It was hard trying to maintain a veneer of cool elegant grace as he crowded her into a corner. This no longer felt like her art exhibition, more like that hellhole Brooklyn apartment she’d fled years ago after he’d beaten her one time too many. “Is there a problem here?” a security guard asked from over his shoulder. The claws gripping her arms began to retract and she exhaled. “No..none at all,” she assured with a smile, her voice almost steady.
Shaken is a word that causes me to feel shaken in the head, in my thoughts. It reminds me of waking up after a nightmare, of being in the middle of an earthquake, it reminds me of the moment you are told someone you love had just passed away. When something unexpected happens, you feel shaken, it is an inevitable feeling.
shaken, stirred one olive please. salt on the glass rim. barman shaking up a cocktail. lynchberg lemonade. mmm delicious! reminds me of the deep south. happy senses.
She walked out of the room trying not to reveal the deep blow her ego had just taken. Her knees trembled as she walked, really trying to balance, really trying not to cry.
“Maybe because you’re a girl?”
What kind of nonsense is that? She wasn’t a girl. She was a woman. And what did it matter anyway?
Maybe it did matter.
Her mind was second guessing everything her heart was saying, but it was her conscience that spoke loudest.
shake me
turn me upside down
let all my contents fall loose at your feet
not just my possessions
not just my physical properties
let my ambition
quirks
insecurities
warm fuzzies
hit the ground
see me as I am
and then leave me alone
Suddenly I was blind. A horrific flash went off in my face, followed soon after by a deafening roar in my ears. I looked around, but all I could see was white. The buzzing left in my ears was punctuated by dull voices yelling and crying. I curled up in a ball on the floor, almost in tears. I want to go home.
He was staring out the window again. After he got back, storms became an instant source of terror. A flash of lightning came, and he flinched again. With the following thunderclap, he hit the floor, as if shaken from his foundation by the noise. Tears rolled down his face as readily as the rain poured. War is a fickle thing.
Lemon shakeups from the (very southern) Edwards County fair. I thought it was the only nectar that could cure, could quench a thirsty northern transplant in the dead dead dead of winter. On a drive (that could have easily turned into my escape from a husband who loved me and everything else), I found Hubert’s lemonade (the glass bottle with the smiley face and too many carbs and too much sugar) in a rundown gas station where I stopped to fuel up. A sip. A pucker. A sweetness. A smile. All my bitter-sour dissolved. I bought five bottles to make the taste last a little longer. It wasn’t shaken lemonade, not a shakeup from the stand by the gyros and the funnel cakes and the cotton candy. But I was shaken. And it somehow steadied me as I drove back in the opposite direction of home and all the way back to him.
The lightning illuminated the sky overhead, allowing us to see farther than our flashlights would allow. My shallow breaths and the barking of my companion Harley filled the air. Arms flying out at me trying to grab me and pull me to their awaiting teeth, had me shaken. Thankfully Harley was able to save me from some of them, throwing himself in between me and the danger. I’m so glad I didn’t let Mom talk me out of getting a pit bull. I turned my flashlight off to save the battery, and I prayed that lightning would strike again, for I was blind until then.
I’m to this day very shaken up at the thought of my past. It haunts me nearly everyday, but I’ve found a way to cope with it. I’ll never get over it, but I’ve gotten pretty good at dealing with it.
The whole ground beneath their feet was shaken as the giant’s footsteps drew closer. They stood their ground, spears at the ready. No one had confronted this beast and lived to tell the tale. Would they be the first ones?
Cate Write
It’s strange, the way you walk around. Strange the way you talk to people. All people, any people. You move through crowds like you own them. The ground quakes beneath you, and moon and the stars will bow to your tongue. You leave bodies in your wake. You change them, remake them, and the path behind you is littered with corpses of the their old selves. The ground around you remains displaced, shaken.
Shaken awake to the sound of crashing thunder and cracking lightening.The sound echoes throughout the wind. I love the rain, and I love sleep. The pillows are my comfy clouds, the blanket is my sheet of rain. The light that I’m too lazy to go turn off is my lightening, I drift back to sleep in my own thunderstorm.
The sounds of thunder waking you from a deep sleep, you don’t know what it is at first but you lay there a few minutes and think about it. The way that it boomed had scared you. You just lay there and think to yourself, and fall back to sleep.
I was shaken to my core. The blood was pouring out of her abdomen. She looked up to me pleading with those huge blue eyes. Silently asking for help, as I thrust the knife into her abdomen one more time.
the earth has been shaken the other day. I was afraid and so were my family.
Also, I have a shaken mind, that is, a mind that shakes from one thought to another constantly.
i was shaken at the airplane crash. i was supposed to go to the moon but i crashed before exiting the atmosphere. when falling i was caught by a parachute.
shaken but not perturbed i said so as long as it doesn’t happen again we must hope that that is the end of this nonsense and trash and trash and nonsense.
The earthquake has shaken. The building, the floors, the pictures of my parents from the walls, the brick chimney from the roof, my nerves, and my sense of safety in this small town.
So shaken by the thought of having love walk by me and I not recognize its face. I lead life blinded by my own perceptions and my own love alone.
not stirred. I thought that the quake had ended, but I guess not. I saw the car outside bopping like a Mexican supercar in LA. Apparently the trees liked the show, as they bowed pretty low. The stars jittered–not sure if in accompaniment or for their own separate fun. Either way, it was one of those little periods of earth that wake you up, and wake up your grand kids, if you can tell the story right.
Does this really stop at 60 seconds, and how can I tell as I type looking at my fingers?
It has been a hectic month. This entire escapade of university applications and CIEs have shaken me to my core. I have lost touch with my studying capabilities and don’t know what to do. This very word summaries how this entire last year of school has affected me both in my personal and professional life.
It has been a hectic month. This entire escapade of university applications and CIEs have shaken me to my core. I have lost touch with my studying capabilities and don’t know what to do. This very word summaries how this entire last year of school has affected me both in my personal and professional life.
Her hands were trembling as the blade fell from her fingertips. She steps back and looks into the mirror- and she is horrified by her image. Her words come out soft and shaken, “I am a monster, what have I done?” Her body falls to the floor as she lets out long silent sobs of pain and confusion, she wonders why she is here, what did she do to deserve this?
Her hands were trembling as the blade fell from her fingertips. She steps back and looks into the mirror- and she is horrified by her image. Her words come out soft and shaken, “I am a monster, what have I done?”
I was never that shaken. The fear was consuming. I never knew that you could feel that way. It was scary, but also weirdly exhilirating.
You’re falling apart; shaken to the core. All right, I like being this thing. This thing that scares people out from underneath their beds. I know that I should hate myself, I know that I should hate everything that I have done. But, in perfect honestly, I cannot. I like being the monster underneath your bed.
“No?”
“Not today.”
He then left without asking any further questions although he knew by the scent of his client’s breath and how he looked a bit shaken that he assumed–although he was very sure–that maybe he had drank a bit too much the night before.
the girl was shaking after the boy had asked her to marry him but once he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her over and over she calmed down and they both hand and hand walked into the sunset
There was a boy with ginger hair curled up against the brick wall of the alley. His knees were tucked up to his chest and his body was littered with bruises. His frame shook as he sobbed into his arms. He looked up at the stars and the light of the moon illuminated his pale face. Tears streamed down his face from his amber eyes.
The ground was shaken when there was a earthquake. And everything started moving.
The boy had a very short encounter with a robber in his house when he was home alone. The boy saw the man through a small hole in the window shades.
The small boy was very shaken by the encounter with a very scary man outside his house. The boy spied him out of his window.
“That’s the thing though, you don’t get to decide any more. This is mine. My life, my art, my show,” she hissed. It was hard trying to maintain a veneer of cool elegant grace as he crowded her into a corner. This no longer felt like her art exhibition, more like that hellhole Brooklyn apartment she’d fled years ago after he’d beaten her one time too many. “Is there a problem here?” a security guard asked from over his shoulder. The claws gripping her arms began to retract and she exhaled. “No..none at all,” she assured with a smile, her voice almost steady.
Shaken is a word that causes me to feel shaken in the head, in my thoughts. It reminds me of waking up after a nightmare, of being in the middle of an earthquake, it reminds me of the moment you are told someone you love had just passed away. When something unexpected happens, you feel shaken, it is an inevitable feeling.
shaken, stirred one olive please. salt on the glass rim. barman shaking up a cocktail. lynchberg lemonade. mmm delicious! reminds me of the deep south. happy senses.
She walked out of the room trying not to reveal the deep blow her ego had just taken. Her knees trembled as she walked, really trying to balance, really trying not to cry.
“Maybe because you’re a girl?”
What kind of nonsense is that? She wasn’t a girl. She was a woman. And what did it matter anyway?
Maybe it did matter.
Her mind was second guessing everything her heart was saying, but it was her conscience that spoke loudest.
Banana tree was shaken, not by wind but by a dozen monkeys chasing each other through branches.
abalado
Tree was shaken not by wind but by a dozen monkeys chasing each other through the branches.
I saw what happened, I was shaken. I looked in horror at the sight that was in front of me.
shake me
turn me upside down
let all my contents fall loose at your feet
not just my possessions
not just my physical properties
let my ambition
quirks
insecurities
warm fuzzies
hit the ground
see me as I am
and then leave me alone
Suddenly I was blind. A horrific flash went off in my face, followed soon after by a deafening roar in my ears. I looked around, but all I could see was white. The buzzing left in my ears was punctuated by dull voices yelling and crying. I curled up in a ball on the floor, almost in tears. I want to go home.
He was staring out the window again. After he got back, storms became an instant source of terror. A flash of lightning came, and he flinched again. With the following thunderclap, he hit the floor, as if shaken from his foundation by the noise. Tears rolled down his face as readily as the rain poured. War is a fickle thing.
Lemon shakeups from the (very southern) Edwards County fair. I thought it was the only nectar that could cure, could quench a thirsty northern transplant in the dead dead dead of winter. On a drive (that could have easily turned into my escape from a husband who loved me and everything else), I found Hubert’s lemonade (the glass bottle with the smiley face and too many carbs and too much sugar) in a rundown gas station where I stopped to fuel up. A sip. A pucker. A sweetness. A smile. All my bitter-sour dissolved. I bought five bottles to make the taste last a little longer. It wasn’t shaken lemonade, not a shakeup from the stand by the gyros and the funnel cakes and the cotton candy. But I was shaken. And it somehow steadied me as I drove back in the opposite direction of home and all the way back to him.
The lightning illuminated the sky overhead, allowing us to see farther than our flashlights would allow. My shallow breaths and the barking of my companion Harley filled the air. Arms flying out at me trying to grab me and pull me to their awaiting teeth, had me shaken. Thankfully Harley was able to save me from some of them, throwing himself in between me and the danger. I’m so glad I didn’t let Mom talk me out of getting a pit bull. I turned my flashlight off to save the battery, and I prayed that lightning would strike again, for I was blind until then.
I’m to this day very shaken up at the thought of my past. It haunts me nearly everyday, but I’ve found a way to cope with it. I’ll never get over it, but I’ve gotten pretty good at dealing with it.
The whole ground beneath their feet was shaken as the giant’s footsteps drew closer. They stood their ground, spears at the ready. No one had confronted this beast and lived to tell the tale. Would they be the first ones?
It’s strange, the way you walk around. Strange the way you talk to people. All people, any people. You move through crowds like you own them. The ground quakes beneath you, and moon and the stars will bow to your tongue. You leave bodies in your wake. You change them, remake them, and the path behind you is littered with corpses of the their old selves. The ground around you remains displaced, shaken.
Shaken awake to the sound of crashing thunder and cracking lightening.The sound echoes throughout the wind. I love the rain, and I love sleep. The pillows are my comfy clouds, the blanket is my sheet of rain. The light that I’m too lazy to go turn off is my lightening, I drift back to sleep in my own thunderstorm.
The sounds of thunder waking you from a deep sleep, you don’t know what it is at first but you lay there a few minutes and think about it. The way that it boomed had scared you. You just lay there and think to yourself, and fall back to sleep.
My alarm clock had me shaken this morning, but this damn storm is putting me back to sleep.
I’ll never forget those voices. The way they resonated through my bones when I heard their responses. Always searching, forever shaken.
I was shaken to my core. The blood was pouring out of her abdomen. She looked up to me pleading with those huge blue eyes. Silently asking for help, as I thrust the knife into her abdomen one more time.
This alarm clock had me shaken this morning, but this damn storm is putting me back to sleep.
the earth has been shaken the other day. I was afraid and so were my family.
Also, I have a shaken mind, that is, a mind that shakes from one thought to another constantly.
shaken not stirred
that’s how I like my margaritas
and my men
i was shaken at the airplane crash. i was supposed to go to the moon but i crashed before exiting the atmosphere. when falling i was caught by a parachute.