Digging through the attic, he came to the box. The one box he had hidden away, buried deep beneath photos and clothes. The box full of all of the memories he tried so hard to forget. All of the places and people that all seemed like dreams now.
tenches scully. overgrown weeds and rusted armor. spent bullet casings spread like celery on the musty dirt. red and green. sparklefire captivating the men. twirling heavy things descending for us.
the way of our blood, the way it flows, it would flow through a trench the same way. Fluidly moving around curves and through big patches of granite and ice until circulated thoroughly.
IF we could see, surely we would go. There’d be no other way to assuage our pain in knowing of the beauty of the untold. We seek enough because we don’t see, and maybe never will.
the trenches were filled with the stench of black, gray, and brown.
there was no where to go, every way you turned you hit darkness. moving but staying in the same place. the sound of hurt, anger, and revenge down below you, above you, next to you. running away was running towards, like a hamster in a wheel.
The men lay in the trenches. Mud was everywhere he looked. Above, below, inside. He felt like the entire world had become mud. He didn’t think he would ever see the sun again. All that existed was the mud. And the trenches. And the men. The stinking, filthy, heroic men. He would find some way to get them out of the trenches. Some way.
the trenches were filled with the stench of black, gray, and brown.
there was no where to go, every way you turned you hit darkness. moving but staying in the same place.
The trenches were dangerous,deep and terrible. No one was aloud to go near them. By no exceptions, till Sammy wondered to near them. There was a snake and when that snake bit her Sammy became different and new. She began to notice weird things in her community.
on the battlefield of love
you stood across from me
and i sacrificed my life for you
and you for me
and I had no choice but to agree
and so i stepped forth
and so i let it all go in to you
in the mist of the flames the mist of the fire
I did it for you
I did it all for you
starting at the trenches
The smell… nothing could have prepared me for the smell. 20 years of farm work, 2 years of living on the street, 6 months as a janitor, and none of it was enough. Shit, blood, and piss. And bodies. And you can’t hear a thing in the trenches. Sensory overload, and complete numbness. The brain wasn’t designed for death at this magnification. My body shook, or at least I felt like it did.
War? Fire? What war? What fire? Nope. We are playing hide and seek with my cousins and friends. I was looking for a place to hide. Trenches are really not in our area because it’s a city and not rural.
But hey I found one! I was so excited! It wasn’t that deep but I can fit. It was so dark and I’m hoping nobody can find me. I waited and waited. It is dark because it’s nightime. Perfect for hide and seek.
Yes, I was still waiting. Now it’s getting even darker. What happened? Being a kid, I was thinking of zombies and vampires. I was scared now. My watch said its been 30 minutes since I’ve been waiting. So, I got out of my trench and went back to my friends. And yes, they didn’t found me and I was too scared.
I’m listless.
My nails dig trenches into the pale skin of my wrists.
A buzz commences inside the labyrinths of the brain.
I lie flat on the bed. The ceiling above is white.
Like the noise I hear when I wake every morning
And the noise I hear when I try to fall asleep in the late hours of the night
Or rather, the early hours of morn.
Do I really want to cease breathing?
From the dark, you stung me
like sharp bees in the mist.
I didn’t see you laying there,
in the trenches of my mind —
and I don’t know how you escaped me
still running from last time.
All I ever do is dig trenches. Not little ones, really big ones. I don’t know why they make me do it, but I get time off my sentence if I do it everyday. It seems pretty pointless to me. But I want to go home so badly, so I don’t question it.
Mud tried to suck their feet back into the ground, down, six feet under. They tredged on. It wasn’t really raining but it sure as shit wasn’t sunny either. His shoes were literally covered in mud. He wished he was home. All the others, they seemed to know what they were fighting for; he wished he did.
John ran down the hill, laughing to his companion who was far behind him. “You gotta move faster than that slow poke!” He cried. The other boy with short blonde curls tried with all his might to keep up, “John hey! Slow down!”. John kept going down further, winding between the tall trees and roots uprooted. But as the blonde curly haired boy tripped he heard a sudden yelp. Looking up to see if his friend fell, he notice he was all alone. “J-John?….” Silence. “John? John! this isn’t funny.” But the longer the silence the more scared he was becoming… Then “Dylan? Dylan! Hey!”. The blonde boy froze and looked around the tree… Nobody. “John? Where are you?”. “I don’t know… I think I fell into some hole?”. “What do you see?”. “Nuthin really.. Wait.” Then Dylan heard a bang and jumped. “Whoa!” “Dylan? I found something…. A gun.” “What?!”
Long lines of dirt, round at their corners. It matched perfectly the color of the sky, somehow, despite being an awful shade of brown. How morbid, and perfectly ironic, that these forsaken young men should dig to prepare a desolate field for war and blood; to prepare hatred to be spilled where there should be seeds.
The men were cold and tired. Their feet hurt. There was a foot of standing water in the trenches that were their current home. This war was awful. The men hoped they would be home soon. They had been stupid and foolish to come here in the first place. All they wanted to see their families and loved ones at least one more time. But they knew they were going to die here. There was no escape from this horrible fate.
Down we go into the trenches
There is no hope left there,
Only dirt and blood and the eerie silence
That curls around us all, a shadowy lover waiting
Until the next crack of a shot frees a man’s soul.
Trenches of the heart…the places that are worn down and surround each and every experience of love and relationship. Protection or missed opportunities – trenches are only overcome when I mindfully open myself up to experiencing the old patterns in new ways.
“…if you’ll just follow me, ser,”
“Of course, Sergeant,” she said, falling into step beside her. “It’s been a while since I had a view from the trenches,”
Jana chuckled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, General,”
For a long moment, she didn’t answer. And, when she finally did, her tone was unreadable. “Maybe it is,”
i don’t know what trenches are. I am not sure. English is not my mother language so don’t blame me, sounds familiar though. Trenches…does it have something to do with nature? sounds like branches. Trees, wood or architecture.
When she first found herself down in the trenches, she was appalled by what she saw. The rawness of humanity she’d never even known existed, the hurt, the pain, the starvation and anguish and hatred some people feel day in and day out.
Worse than that, though, was when she finally felt at home there.
they don’t see us
behind the dirt and grime and dust
they are too afraid to look
past their noses
or over their newspapers
because they avoid death
the obituaries are never read
they are crumpled and thrown
in the trash
next to the flowers from thanksgiving
and next to the electric bill
Challenges we face through personal and business everyday that when faced with action steps and strategies we rise above
It takes ideas, action steps team work to succeed our goals. We will feel accomplished when achieving or learning as we go through the trenches to get the rEward
Love and peace in the trenches, G. The trenches are a terrible place. My trench coat is a warm place. Everyone should wear a trench coat if they can. They are fun to wear. I will still love you if you choose not to have and wear a trench coat, though.
Trenches are out-of-date. It’s all about drones now
He shuddered remembering the time he’d spent in the trenches. The war brought back painful memories for him. The few times that he did allow himself to remember it he heard the shells flying overhead, and the constant explosions. He heard the screams and the shouts and feel the air that smelled of burning skin. It was the sounds and smells of men dying.
I heard a rumor once about the library. It was in a grove, see, and it swooped down. Cuz it was built in a bunker, a trench if you will. Man- made and all, it’s said that’s where the teachers hide their booze.
Taking trenches with us in everyday life is no way to live. We cannot hide from the real world’s brutality and then move on. If so, we’d all be cowards. We’d all have to face more than just fear. But our own fear
in the trenches we lay, calm as a duck on water, ready to take on the day. I look at you and wish that you cared more, that your heart were right there with mine, as mine is with yours. But alas, I am the fool that carries you with me, while I am left for dead out in the trenches. Goodbye my love, stay safe.
Lighting illuminated his dark hair and trench coat soaking in the rain. He gazed up at the climb that he would soon endure.. The black tower was a tall fortress of human invention. Yet it was nothing that he couldn’t destroy. He took one step onto the iron rails with his wet boots and began to climb.
In the trenches they wondered if they would survive to see their unborn children. They wondered if they would watch them grow up and find their first love. Wondered where they would go to school and who they would turn out to be. That’s what they wondered while the bombs whistled past them.
The trenches were filled with the cold, icy water of the rain. She peered into the waters curiously, watching the ripples move through the water, caused by seemingly nothing.
I don’t really know what this means. I guess its something very english i have no idea about. Maybe some kind of trousers. Maybe some kind of a work out. I don’t really like this word. It looks at my in a funny way, but its okay i guess. I will know one day what it means. One day. All my dreams will come true.
Digging through the attic, he came to the box. The one box he had hidden away, buried deep beneath photos and clothes. The box full of all of the memories he tried so hard to forget. All of the places and people that all seemed like dreams now.
tenches scully. overgrown weeds and rusted armor. spent bullet casings spread like celery on the musty dirt. red and green. sparklefire captivating the men. twirling heavy things descending for us.
the way of our blood, the way it flows, it would flow through a trench the same way. Fluidly moving around curves and through big patches of granite and ice until circulated thoroughly.
IF we could see, surely we would go. There’d be no other way to assuage our pain in knowing of the beauty of the untold. We seek enough because we don’t see, and maybe never will.
the trenches were filled with the stench of black, gray, and brown.
there was no where to go, every way you turned you hit darkness. moving but staying in the same place. the sound of hurt, anger, and revenge down below you, above you, next to you. running away was running towards, like a hamster in a wheel.
The men lay in the trenches. Mud was everywhere he looked. Above, below, inside. He felt like the entire world had become mud. He didn’t think he would ever see the sun again. All that existed was the mud. And the trenches. And the men. The stinking, filthy, heroic men. He would find some way to get them out of the trenches. Some way.
the trenches were filled with the stench of black, gray, and brown.
there was no where to go, every way you turned you hit darkness. moving but staying in the same place.
The trenches were dangerous,deep and terrible. No one was aloud to go near them. By no exceptions, till Sammy wondered to near them. There was a snake and when that snake bit her Sammy became different and new. She began to notice weird things in her community.
on the battlefield of love
you stood across from me
and i sacrificed my life for you
and you for me
and I had no choice but to agree
and so i stepped forth
and so i let it all go in to you
in the mist of the flames the mist of the fire
I did it for you
I did it all for you
starting at the trenches
The smell… nothing could have prepared me for the smell. 20 years of farm work, 2 years of living on the street, 6 months as a janitor, and none of it was enough. Shit, blood, and piss. And bodies. And you can’t hear a thing in the trenches. Sensory overload, and complete numbness. The brain wasn’t designed for death at this magnification. My body shook, or at least I felt like it did.
War? Fire? What war? What fire? Nope. We are playing hide and seek with my cousins and friends. I was looking for a place to hide. Trenches are really not in our area because it’s a city and not rural.
But hey I found one! I was so excited! It wasn’t that deep but I can fit. It was so dark and I’m hoping nobody can find me. I waited and waited. It is dark because it’s nightime. Perfect for hide and seek.
Yes, I was still waiting. Now it’s getting even darker. What happened? Being a kid, I was thinking of zombies and vampires. I was scared now. My watch said its been 30 minutes since I’ve been waiting. So, I got out of my trench and went back to my friends. And yes, they didn’t found me and I was too scared.
Dig the trenches with a jackhammer. Quickly. This will be where the team are deployed to spend their days and nights incessantly fighting the enemy.
I’m listless.
My nails dig trenches into the pale skin of my wrists.
A buzz commences inside the labyrinths of the brain.
I lie flat on the bed. The ceiling above is white.
Like the noise I hear when I wake every morning
And the noise I hear when I try to fall asleep in the late hours of the night
Or rather, the early hours of morn.
Do I really want to cease breathing?
From the dark, you stung me
like sharp bees in the mist.
I didn’t see you laying there,
in the trenches of my mind —
and I don’t know how you escaped me
still running from last time.
All I ever do is dig trenches. Not little ones, really big ones. I don’t know why they make me do it, but I get time off my sentence if I do it everyday. It seems pretty pointless to me. But I want to go home so badly, so I don’t question it.
Mud tried to suck their feet back into the ground, down, six feet under. They tredged on. It wasn’t really raining but it sure as shit wasn’t sunny either. His shoes were literally covered in mud. He wished he was home. All the others, they seemed to know what they were fighting for; he wished he did.
John ran down the hill, laughing to his companion who was far behind him. “You gotta move faster than that slow poke!” He cried. The other boy with short blonde curls tried with all his might to keep up, “John hey! Slow down!”. John kept going down further, winding between the tall trees and roots uprooted. But as the blonde curly haired boy tripped he heard a sudden yelp. Looking up to see if his friend fell, he notice he was all alone. “J-John?….” Silence. “John? John! this isn’t funny.” But the longer the silence the more scared he was becoming… Then “Dylan? Dylan! Hey!”. The blonde boy froze and looked around the tree… Nobody. “John? Where are you?”. “I don’t know… I think I fell into some hole?”. “What do you see?”. “Nuthin really.. Wait.” Then Dylan heard a bang and jumped. “Whoa!” “Dylan? I found something…. A gun.” “What?!”
Long lines of dirt, round at their corners. It matched perfectly the color of the sky, somehow, despite being an awful shade of brown. How morbid, and perfectly ironic, that these forsaken young men should dig to prepare a desolate field for war and blood; to prepare hatred to be spilled where there should be seeds.
The men were cold and tired. Their feet hurt. There was a foot of standing water in the trenches that were their current home. This war was awful. The men hoped they would be home soon. They had been stupid and foolish to come here in the first place. All they wanted to see their families and loved ones at least one more time. But they knew they were going to die here. There was no escape from this horrible fate.
Down we go into the trenches
There is no hope left there,
Only dirt and blood and the eerie silence
That curls around us all, a shadowy lover waiting
Until the next crack of a shot frees a man’s soul.
Trenches of the heart…the places that are worn down and surround each and every experience of love and relationship. Protection or missed opportunities – trenches are only overcome when I mindfully open myself up to experiencing the old patterns in new ways.
“…if you’ll just follow me, ser,”
“Of course, Sergeant,” she said, falling into step beside her. “It’s been a while since I had a view from the trenches,”
Jana chuckled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, General,”
For a long moment, she didn’t answer. And, when she finally did, her tone was unreadable. “Maybe it is,”
i don’t know what trenches are. I am not sure. English is not my mother language so don’t blame me, sounds familiar though. Trenches…does it have something to do with nature? sounds like branches. Trees, wood or architecture.
When she first found herself down in the trenches, she was appalled by what she saw. The rawness of humanity she’d never even known existed, the hurt, the pain, the starvation and anguish and hatred some people feel day in and day out.
Worse than that, though, was when she finally felt at home there.
they don’t see us
behind the dirt and grime and dust
they are too afraid to look
past their noses
or over their newspapers
because they avoid death
the obituaries are never read
they are crumpled and thrown
in the trash
next to the flowers from thanksgiving
and next to the electric bill
Jump in and figure out a new creative way to look at where you are and what you want to accomplish. See it with a new pair of glasses.
Challenges we face through personal and business everyday that when faced with action steps and strategies we rise above
It takes ideas, action steps team work to succeed our goals. We will feel accomplished when achieving or learning as we go through the trenches to get the rEward
Love and peace in the trenches, G. The trenches are a terrible place. My trench coat is a warm place. Everyone should wear a trench coat if they can. They are fun to wear. I will still love you if you choose not to have and wear a trench coat, though.
Trenches are out-of-date. It’s all about drones now
He shuddered remembering the time he’d spent in the trenches. The war brought back painful memories for him. The few times that he did allow himself to remember it he heard the shells flying overhead, and the constant explosions. He heard the screams and the shouts and feel the air that smelled of burning skin. It was the sounds and smells of men dying.
jump in and see what to do, create an answer different then the ones that came before since the trench would not exist if they were successful.
I heard a rumor once about the library. It was in a grove, see, and it swooped down. Cuz it was built in a bunker, a trench if you will. Man- made and all, it’s said that’s where the teachers hide their booze.
Taking trenches with us in everyday life is no way to live. We cannot hide from the real world’s brutality and then move on. If so, we’d all be cowards. We’d all have to face more than just fear. But our own fear
I hate being down in the trenches, everyone walks over me. The rain falls down on me and floods my openings and even the dogs
in the trenches we lay, calm as a duck on water, ready to take on the day. I look at you and wish that you cared more, that your heart were right there with mine, as mine is with yours. But alas, I am the fool that carries you with me, while I am left for dead out in the trenches. Goodbye my love, stay safe.
Lighting illuminated his dark hair and trench coat soaking in the rain. He gazed up at the climb that he would soon endure.. The black tower was a tall fortress of human invention. Yet it was nothing that he couldn’t destroy. He took one step onto the iron rails with his wet boots and began to climb.
In the trenches they wondered if they would survive to see their unborn children. They wondered if they would watch them grow up and find their first love. Wondered where they would go to school and who they would turn out to be. That’s what they wondered while the bombs whistled past them.
sometimes being in the trenches is the only way to see the world from a new perspective. i just wish i didnt know that from my own experience…
The trenches were filled with the cold, icy water of the rain. She peered into the waters curiously, watching the ripples move through the water, caused by seemingly nothing.
I don’t really know what this means. I guess its something very english i have no idea about. Maybe some kind of trousers. Maybe some kind of a work out. I don’t really like this word. It looks at my in a funny way, but its okay i guess. I will know one day what it means. One day. All my dreams will come true.
“Let’s hide in the trenches! No one will find us.”
“That is the worst idea ever.”