The ship came into the port. It was a big port, full of boats. The cranes were moving containers onto, and off of ships. The ships would become full with containers and then head out to see. Where did they go? That was the big question that everyone had. Were they going to Japan? Were they going to California? Were they on their way to the moon? Anything was possib.e
Maria stood waiting at the port, her heart beating rapidly beneath her calico gown. Far off she could see nothing but sky and water, grey and blue, mist and uncertainty. It was cold in the early hours of the morning, but she would stand there until she saw the first flutter of white sails on the horizon. It was the least she could do for the man who had taken pity on her.
As the sun rose high over the low-banked clouds in the eastern sky, and the calls of gulls filled the air, a the warships sailed into port. A woman stood among the crowd that gather at the docks as the gangplank was lowered. One by one, the soldiers trudged off the ship, and she waited for him. For each and every ship that anchored, through the entire day and well into the night, she waited. And still, he did not come.
an IP port is not what Im thinking of right now, although its all what Ive been working on all freakin morning, damn.. Now the word of the day is tainted with the my day job… Should’ve written about the port where we met for the first time, back when the sun was hot, my hair was long, and life was simple.
Her eyes met mine over the table as we seem to only sit inches away from each other. Her lips became tight as if to inhibit a smile. My left upper lip curled up as we both knew what was going to come, sipping on a glass of port.
the south side or maybe it’s the north. listing dangerously, our ship wants to sink. wants to buck us off and groan to the bottom of the sea. it’s not even trying! lazy metal, it never remains humanity. we struggle and we fight. we churn up thick, bloody water. but we end up frozen solid, nonetheless. and we are scared. Death is too fast.
The ship sailed slowly into the port. The cargo weighed down the captain’s heart if not his helm. That was the problem with secrets, the weight. He swallowed deeply as if it could bring his heart into the normal cadence of calm as he looked at the looming buildings squatting along the white tipped mountains along the shore.
port like a usb port. a port can be anywhere, always watching you. they are waiting for you to notice that they are empty, and fill then with substance.
let the emotions come in. be open to letting things come in and yet knowing they will soon leave, shouldn’t be unsettling but unsurprising.
they come and go. lights swinging high and low.
far and wide. low and high tide.
gently rocking side to side
silently, seamlessly. glide.
they come and go.
The port to the world, where all is good and no chaos is there. But it’s just a port, no boats it has. Must build my own. Forming it now. Creating the new path. Sailing away…
ummmmm…. idk what to say about this word. it starts with a p… then an o… then an r.. then a t. it’s the word port. yep. i think it has to do with boats or somethin. or whine
As I stood there in the port eying the vast emptiness before me I pondered about this existence. What is there to look forward other than this void? This ocean blue and beautiful but empty. As I stepped toward the end of the port ready to end all a sense of enlightenment took over me. “As vast and empty as the ocean may seem,” I thought, “The beauty in its depths cannot be argued.”
There was a swimmer to the port side, and seagulls crossed the glassy harbour, diving at us as we fished. Perhaps if we were lucky with the morning’s catch, we could head to the mouth and gaze at a few Hector’s dophins after lunch.
Jack was excited, because today was the day that he would finally set out on his voyage. The Warship Euglena was destined for the far shores of Regumat in search of Dragons.
This word reminds me of when I had to work teaching English in Ostia for the first time. I tried to find a quicker way home, and got lost trying to find the airport (there was a train that could take me close to home). A boy was also waiting for the bus, and he told me to follow him and he’d show me the way. We ended up taking 2 buses and walking a really far way to get to the bus that went to the airport, but I missed it and ended up waiting by the port for over an hour for the next bus.
there are USB ports in the computers for my computer and careers class. That class is stupid, and i would maybe sleep through it if you weren’t sitting next to me. not that you speak much. not that you particularly like me. Not that you even think i’m sane. Not that you actually would ever, ever, ever, think about me outside of class.
That’s okay, though.
That’s okay.
A port is where everything comes together from all over the world. I have lived near a port for the last four years and it’s amazing to me how little I think of the international melting pot of goods that arrives just miles from me on a daily basis. Every hour, people, goods, and many more are transitioning in and out on their way to reach the farthest ends of the earth.
Well, when I was a teenager, my father brought me to the dockside and told me that we were headed off to port. I didn’t quite know what this was. I always thought of stout, or porter beer, but never the ocean. I guess it’s funny how things work out in unexpected ways like that. I always did love the sea even though I was never a sailor. I always imagined myself being in the Navy, but never was. I think I was too afraid.
the boat was coming in. dawn was upon the city, the sun illuminating blue water by the sand. She looked out at the horizon, her arms closed tightly around her body. The port was the only place she felt safe, the place where she didn’t always think of him- she blinked away the images of his face .
ships, bustling, historical times, fishermen, a source of economy, could be a wine, fishes in the sea, mermaids, ariel, ship decks, docks, pirates, sailors, water, oceans, sunsets in the distance, small and big boats everywhere
Any port in a storm they say. A port for me is a place of endless opportunity; at the edge of the land but still a safe haven. Of course, port is also a drink named after Porto in Spain, and I must admit I am quite partial to a tipple of port, even if it causes gout
Port makes me think of portables. My senior year in high school my English class was in one. They were rebuilding all of the buildings at school so we had a little portable city. Now when I go to campus, I can’t even recognize it. It’s like they tore down all my high school memories and rebuilt it for somebody else. It’s a good think I don’t think of that place fondly.
There’s a port at the end of our town leading to the sea. It’s small and unmanaged, rotten, old, but it still reminds me of home. It reminds me of love and normality. It’s truly beautiful.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live near a port. The people working, the sounds of life, the natural efforts placed by everyone. That is life. That is a port.
She landed quite loudly on the dock, her feet absorbing the shock as she jumped from the boat, the SS Catalina, to the port. She smelled the ever-present sea, only now rife with pollution and garbage. “City slickers,” she thought. “I hate them all.”
Ports are so important. It’s important that you have your own port too. A space in your life to let things in, and let things out. Just make sure its even both ways.
i met you on the dreariest port,
to say goodbye to who i thought we were.
you left without giving me a kiss.
and i realized i let go of more than i anticipated.
It’s where vessels have a connecting point; the agreeable source. As some philosopher put it, it’s “family resemblance”. Not everybody will agree. There is no universal truth that every single person claims. In order to attempt to at least attempt to get closer to people converting from the belief of lies to truth, we must find a ‘port’ in each person; one by one. A connecting point.
port as in airport. as in the first time I ever saw a plane. as in the first time I ever left the state. as in the first time i saw the ocean. as in the time i fell in Love with the ocean.
a machine that had not even existed at one time was the same machine that was taking me to new places, places that i had only been to in my dreams.
port is drunk by someone who knows his drink, is slightly arrogant (very arrogant) but actually has a good knowledge of interesting, cool things like literature and henry whiterman’s etc.
The ship came into the port. It was a big port, full of boats. The cranes were moving containers onto, and off of ships. The ships would become full with containers and then head out to see. Where did they go? That was the big question that everyone had. Were they going to Japan? Were they going to California? Were they on their way to the moon? Anything was possib.e
Tele-port. My most obscure dream which, I know, would never come true–not even in a million heartbeats. But, hey, I can dream, right?
Maria stood waiting at the port, her heart beating rapidly beneath her calico gown. Far off she could see nothing but sky and water, grey and blue, mist and uncertainty. It was cold in the early hours of the morning, but she would stand there until she saw the first flutter of white sails on the horizon. It was the least she could do for the man who had taken pity on her.
As the sun rose high over the low-banked clouds in the eastern sky, and the calls of gulls filled the air, a the warships sailed into port. A woman stood among the crowd that gather at the docks as the gangplank was lowered. One by one, the soldiers trudged off the ship, and she waited for him. For each and every ship that anchored, through the entire day and well into the night, she waited. And still, he did not come.
an IP port is not what Im thinking of right now, although its all what Ive been working on all freakin morning, damn.. Now the word of the day is tainted with the my day job… Should’ve written about the port where we met for the first time, back when the sun was hot, my hair was long, and life was simple.
Her eyes met mine over the table as we seem to only sit inches away from each other. Her lips became tight as if to inhibit a smile. My left upper lip curled up as we both knew what was going to come, sipping on a glass of port.
the south side or maybe it’s the north. listing dangerously, our ship wants to sink. wants to buck us off and groan to the bottom of the sea. it’s not even trying! lazy metal, it never remains humanity. we struggle and we fight. we churn up thick, bloody water. but we end up frozen solid, nonetheless. and we are scared. Death is too fast.
The ship sailed slowly into the port. The cargo weighed down the captain’s heart if not his helm. That was the problem with secrets, the weight. He swallowed deeply as if it could bring his heart into the normal cadence of calm as he looked at the looming buildings squatting along the white tipped mountains along the shore.
The seas were dark and roiling. The crew was exhausted. But home was close. We could see the lighthouse. Warmth and a happy embrace.
port like a usb port. a port can be anywhere, always watching you. they are waiting for you to notice that they are empty, and fill then with substance.
let the emotions come in. be open to letting things come in and yet knowing they will soon leave, shouldn’t be unsettling but unsurprising.
they come and go. lights swinging high and low.
far and wide. low and high tide.
gently rocking side to side
silently, seamlessly. glide.
they come and go.
It is a place where ships go to unload and dock. Like pirates and people who trade stuff.
The port to the world, where all is good and no chaos is there. But it’s just a port, no boats it has. Must build my own. Forming it now. Creating the new path. Sailing away…
ummmmm…. idk what to say about this word. it starts with a p… then an o… then an r.. then a t. it’s the word port. yep. i think it has to do with boats or somethin. or whine
As I stood there in the port eying the vast emptiness before me I pondered about this existence. What is there to look forward other than this void? This ocean blue and beautiful but empty. As I stepped toward the end of the port ready to end all a sense of enlightenment took over me. “As vast and empty as the ocean may seem,” I thought, “The beauty in its depths cannot be argued.”
port is usb
port can be a shipping port
port wine
import
export
deport
port ins
port outs
MNP
port i anything like a gateway or an access point
There was a swimmer to the port side, and seagulls crossed the glassy harbour, diving at us as we fished. Perhaps if we were lucky with the morning’s catch, we could head to the mouth and gaze at a few Hector’s dophins after lunch.
Jack was excited, because today was the day that he would finally set out on his voyage. The Warship Euglena was destined for the far shores of Regumat in search of Dragons.
This word reminds me of when I had to work teaching English in Ostia for the first time. I tried to find a quicker way home, and got lost trying to find the airport (there was a train that could take me close to home). A boy was also waiting for the bus, and he told me to follow him and he’d show me the way. We ended up taking 2 buses and walking a really far way to get to the bus that went to the airport, but I missed it and ended up waiting by the port for over an hour for the next bus.
there are USB ports in the computers for my computer and careers class. That class is stupid, and i would maybe sleep through it if you weren’t sitting next to me. not that you speak much. not that you particularly like me. Not that you even think i’m sane. Not that you actually would ever, ever, ever, think about me outside of class.
That’s okay, though.
That’s okay.
A port is where everything comes together from all over the world. I have lived near a port for the last four years and it’s amazing to me how little I think of the international melting pot of goods that arrives just miles from me on a daily basis. Every hour, people, goods, and many more are transitioning in and out on their way to reach the farthest ends of the earth.
opening, a place where things can go in. liberty, entering. things on a computer. portable, you can take it to places, things you can do. port.
Well, when I was a teenager, my father brought me to the dockside and told me that we were headed off to port. I didn’t quite know what this was. I always thought of stout, or porter beer, but never the ocean. I guess it’s funny how things work out in unexpected ways like that. I always did love the sea even though I was never a sailor. I always imagined myself being in the Navy, but never was. I think I was too afraid.
the boat was coming in. dawn was upon the city, the sun illuminating blue water by the sand. She looked out at the horizon, her arms closed tightly around her body. The port was the only place she felt safe, the place where she didn’t always think of him- she blinked away the images of his face .
ships, bustling, historical times, fishermen, a source of economy, could be a wine, fishes in the sea, mermaids, ariel, ship decks, docks, pirates, sailors, water, oceans, sunsets in the distance, small and big boats everywhere
Any port in a storm they say. A port for me is a place of endless opportunity; at the edge of the land but still a safe haven. Of course, port is also a drink named after Porto in Spain, and I must admit I am quite partial to a tipple of port, even if it causes gout
Port makes me think of portables. My senior year in high school my English class was in one. They were rebuilding all of the buildings at school so we had a little portable city. Now when I go to campus, I can’t even recognize it. It’s like they tore down all my high school memories and rebuilt it for somebody else. It’s a good think I don’t think of that place fondly.
There’s a port at the end of our town leading to the sea. It’s small and unmanaged, rotten, old, but it still reminds me of home. It reminds me of love and normality. It’s truly beautiful.
a port could be a portal. where one enter or where one leaves. leaves where? enters where? who knows. it’s just the port(al). adventures? maybe.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live near a port. The people working, the sounds of life, the natural efforts placed by everyone. That is life. That is a port.
She landed quite loudly on the dock, her feet absorbing the shock as she jumped from the boat, the SS Catalina, to the port. She smelled the ever-present sea, only now rife with pollution and garbage. “City slickers,” she thought. “I hate them all.”
Ports are so important. It’s important that you have your own port too. A space in your life to let things in, and let things out. Just make sure its even both ways.
a grassy area filled with big nasty people that sin really badly.
boats
sailing
old
summer
ships
cargo
steal
wealth
sneaky
business
money
opportunity
precious goods
services
sailors
captain
workers
strong men
no women
deadlines
customs
taxes
illegal
i met you on the dreariest port,
to say goodbye to who i thought we were.
you left without giving me a kiss.
and i realized i let go of more than i anticipated.
portable portrait
It’s where vessels have a connecting point; the agreeable source. As some philosopher put it, it’s “family resemblance”. Not everybody will agree. There is no universal truth that every single person claims. In order to attempt to at least attempt to get closer to people converting from the belief of lies to truth, we must find a ‘port’ in each person; one by one. A connecting point.
port as in airport. as in the first time I ever saw a plane. as in the first time I ever left the state. as in the first time i saw the ocean. as in the time i fell in Love with the ocean.
a machine that had not even existed at one time was the same machine that was taking me to new places, places that i had only been to in my dreams.
port is drunk by someone who knows his drink, is slightly arrogant (very arrogant) but actually has a good knowledge of interesting, cool things like literature and henry whiterman’s etc.
We turned hard – so hard that our ass cheeks joined for a moment – that’s called hard about he leered