Acrobat makes me think of the time I went to the circus when I was three. My mom made little elephant-shaped invitations made out of felt. All my friends came and it was the best birthday ever.
he was there on the tightrope again, swaying from side to side as gravity gently tugged at his feet. the world seemed so far away— the lights of the circus far, far below him, somewhere distant, like a memory of childhood he struggled to recall.
An acrobat in the bedroom. That’s all she was.
A body attached to a pair of lips, a blossom attached to a body.
Not a woman, not a human, a pair of dark shadows under eyes.
He felt like an acrobat as he drove his motorcycle through the traffic, swerving between the slow-moving cars. Feeling one with his bike, he imagined ice skating or doing loops through the air. He imagined that he was doing a somersault through the air, his arms outstretched to grab the hands of his beautiful partner on the other swing but when he came to, he has reaching for the hands of an ambulance driver, his motorbike in ruins along the street.
He slips through the cracks in conversation with the deftness of an acrobat. I don’t know how I can possibly win, especially as he makes sure my head is always swimming by the time he attacks and I have no time to regain my bearings.
For several years, I thought I wanted to be an acrobat – a dancer and spinner and flipper at the circus, dazzling the crowds as my outfit shimmered with colors and glitter. But that was before the accident. I had spent considerable time in the hospital afterward, mentally debating just where my life would go next. Especially since, after all, I never longer had any legs below the knee.
My mother was beside herself, and my father could hardly speak. He sat around my hospital room a lot silently, just biting his lip and shaking his head. Unlike them, however, I was stoic, matter-of-fact; I could tell they were shocked, almost mortified, by my superficial calm.
There was an acrobat a long time in the city of tokyo japan. He was well known in his small town as a great gymnast but little did everyone know he was going to become the most known acrobat in all of asia. He came from a small town in the outskirts of japan. His father taught him.
she swung from one end of the big top to the other with a cat like grace and agility. the crowed ooh and awed, little kids their face stuffed with candy looked on with wide eyes full of awe at the magnificent performance. When it was time for her show to end she was about to do a record breaking flip, when, with a snap, the rope broke, leaving her to fall into the nonexistent net. the crowd gasped and many parents covered their children’s eyes. Paramedics were called and she was rushed to the hospital, never to perform again.
The spiders, the slung their webs in intertwining patterns of close-knit intricacy. Flipping and leaping; as if they were flying. Acrobatically spinning…
rolling over the lower rung in the tubular steel barriers out side our flats, tucking my head to miss the concrete ledge, tensing my stomach against the cold crush of the hard metal, exhilarated as my feet, one foot before the other fall to earth again, a dizzy rush, a smile
it’s been a long time. she was slipping back into the normal ways of living. faint memories of alternative lifestyles still etched into the paper of her mind like crayon on cloth dipped in dye. acrobatic displays of experience winding time into a mobius strip.
The circus lights streamed into my now watery eyes, as I was balancing on a toothpick sized rope, staggering over the thousands of people applauding in the cramped crowd. It was the fourth appearance of the famous world wide circus and with all the presentations being sold out and required to pre-order for a guaranteed spot, it had been an occupied last few weeks. As I performed my talented gymnastic tricks across the narrow twine thread leading across the stage, the unbelievable disaster occurred. Currently slipping through hundreds of feet of air absorbing the shocked and disbelief audience’s faces covering the audience’s faces and prepared to pronounce the last words of my desired life because of a simple misplacement of my bare splintered feet. Suddenly a group of my close dear friends in my career and life surrounded in a cluster below me grasping a tattered mat carefully prepared to catch my petite body descending into blank air. Landing into secure arms, a sense of relief was brimming around my trembling body.
He could do anything to anyone with words. He knew how to use them; he chose them carefully and shot them at you like a skilled marksman. And when I got older, I learned how to deal with it better; I became more skilled at batting away the cruelty and the insults and the nasty comments. I even got to the point where I decided that maybe I could hurl a few good ones at him and hit the mark, too. That was a mistake. I was an amateur compared with him; a feeble adversary–not even an adversary really. So out of my league that I never got anywhere with that plan. One night, we were watching a variety show on TV; the starring act was the Flying Wallendas. They were acrobats who flew through the air like they had wings they’d just forgotten to put on. And when I saw them, twirling up in the air, no fear, no worry, I thought to myself: That’s how the old man is when he talks; he’s a master. Only thing was, The Flying Wallendas weren’t hurting anyone, except maybe themselves if they fell. The old man hurt everybody. All the time.
The room was a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare – closed heavy doors, no windows, too many people, and stuffy, overdone decor. Prim and proper ‘ladies’ with clown makeup toted tuxedoed husbands like designer furs. Pretentious words flew about like bullets searching for targets of derision. Desperate for air, Tony grabbed his wife, Cara, for a slow dance, ignoring the absence of music. As his hand wandered too low for the propriety of the room, she smiled that secret smile he loved. “Trying to cause a scandal, darling?” she asked. He smirked and glanced up at the chandelier above. “No, if I were really trying to get a rise, I’d lift you up so you could show them just how well you kiss upside down.”
the girl acrobat did such amazing tricks and stunts that it amazed the crowd of people and a man afterwards who was so amazed that he asked her out and she said yes and he got so excited that he grabbed her hand swung her on her heels leaned down and gave her a huge kiss
An acrobat is so cool. I bet they have to be super flexible, right? And obviously nimble and athletic. Are there any acrobats that have a fear of heights? Where does the term acrobat come from? Where did it begin? I’m picturing tightrope walkers doing flips up in the air.
Crazy, that acrobat swing
How she rat-a-tat ‘cross that
Trapeze thing
Death trap, heart attack,
Ready, set, fling–
Fly! lady acrobat
Waiting in the wings.
Caleido Star: Régi-régi (mai szemmel nézve) anime, amely nagyra vitte, mint a főszereplő, Sora. Én személy szerint szerettem, kivéve Leont. Rontotta az összképet, ahogy annyira nagyra volt az “akrobata tehetségével”
Arigatou!
Her mind was doing gymnastics, trying to find a way our of this. She could lie. That is the easiest solution, obviously. But was there a way she could still be honest and get out of it without losing everything that was important to her.
He was watching her mental acrobat spin around inside her eyes. She never was good at hiding the process.
The acrobat flew through the air. He was pretty far away from the other handle, was he gonna make it? He grasped with one hand and missed as we all gasped, but his other hand caught the bar and he swung on it.
Deep breath,
just once more
Perform your best
your flight, cutting through the air
your hands, weighed
behind that mask
behind the charade,
your heart pounds so fast
you can feel it in your toes
flippant and flipping,
you refuse to follow Gravity’s will
sailing and dipping,
the audiences’ gasps are drowned out by
the blood rushing in your ears
they all stare in horror,
they all stare in pleasure,
as you risk your life for that fleeting moment
but the exhilaration!
that rush of electricity up and over your ever nerve
the mild vibrations that turn your quivering lips,
once afraid and chattering,
into a wild smile,
wide and infectuous
you land,
perfect
tens on four faces
tens in all our hearts
Acrobat makes me think of the time I went to the circus when I was three. My mom made little elephant-shaped invitations made out of felt. All my friends came and it was the best birthday ever.
he was there on the tightrope again, swaying from side to side as gravity gently tugged at his feet. the world seemed so far away— the lights of the circus far, far below him, somewhere distant, like a memory of childhood he struggled to recall.
my mom did a acrobat in the middle of the gym while I was playing on the Ipad and my sisters were talking. FAKE
An acrobat is all she needs. All those hoops and elephants, they are pretty, but that is not what she wants.
An acrobat in the bedroom. That’s all she was.
A body attached to a pair of lips, a blossom attached to a body.
Not a woman, not a human, a pair of dark shadows under eyes.
He felt like an acrobat as he drove his motorcycle through the traffic, swerving between the slow-moving cars. Feeling one with his bike, he imagined ice skating or doing loops through the air. He imagined that he was doing a somersault through the air, his arms outstretched to grab the hands of his beautiful partner on the other swing but when he came to, he has reaching for the hands of an ambulance driver, his motorbike in ruins along the street.
An acrobat. An actress. A star in the night. She was a song, a story, a dance. She would take your breath away – she took mine.
He slips through the cracks in conversation with the deftness of an acrobat. I don’t know how I can possibly win, especially as he makes sure my head is always swimming by the time he attacks and I have no time to regain my bearings.
For several years, I thought I wanted to be an acrobat – a dancer and spinner and flipper at the circus, dazzling the crowds as my outfit shimmered with colors and glitter. But that was before the accident. I had spent considerable time in the hospital afterward, mentally debating just where my life would go next. Especially since, after all, I never longer had any legs below the knee.
My mother was beside herself, and my father could hardly speak. He sat around my hospital room a lot silently, just biting his lip and shaking his head. Unlike them, however, I was stoic, matter-of-fact; I could tell they were shocked, almost mortified, by my superficial calm.
There was an acrobat a long time in the city of tokyo japan. He was well known in his small town as a great gymnast but little did everyone know he was going to become the most known acrobat in all of asia. He came from a small town in the outskirts of japan. His father taught him.
she swung from one end of the big top to the other with a cat like grace and agility. the crowed ooh and awed, little kids their face stuffed with candy looked on with wide eyes full of awe at the magnificent performance. When it was time for her show to end she was about to do a record breaking flip, when, with a snap, the rope broke, leaving her to fall into the nonexistent net. the crowd gasped and many parents covered their children’s eyes. Paramedics were called and she was rushed to the hospital, never to perform again.
i’ve just watched an acrobat do awesome tricks and cool flipse of awesomeness and coolness.
The spiders, the slung their webs in intertwining patterns of close-knit intricacy. Flipping and leaping; as if they were flying. Acrobatically spinning…
rolling over the lower rung in the tubular steel barriers out side our flats, tucking my head to miss the concrete ledge, tensing my stomach against the cold crush of the hard metal, exhilarated as my feet, one foot before the other fall to earth again, a dizzy rush, a smile
it’s been a long time. she was slipping back into the normal ways of living. faint memories of alternative lifestyles still etched into the paper of her mind like crayon on cloth dipped in dye. acrobatic displays of experience winding time into a mobius strip.
The circus lights streamed into my now watery eyes, as I was balancing on a toothpick sized rope, staggering over the thousands of people applauding in the cramped crowd. It was the fourth appearance of the famous world wide circus and with all the presentations being sold out and required to pre-order for a guaranteed spot, it had been an occupied last few weeks. As I performed my talented gymnastic tricks across the narrow twine thread leading across the stage, the unbelievable disaster occurred. Currently slipping through hundreds of feet of air absorbing the shocked and disbelief audience’s faces covering the audience’s faces and prepared to pronounce the last words of my desired life because of a simple misplacement of my bare splintered feet. Suddenly a group of my close dear friends in my career and life surrounded in a cluster below me grasping a tattered mat carefully prepared to catch my petite body descending into blank air. Landing into secure arms, a sense of relief was brimming around my trembling body.
He could do anything to anyone with words. He knew how to use them; he chose them carefully and shot them at you like a skilled marksman. And when I got older, I learned how to deal with it better; I became more skilled at batting away the cruelty and the insults and the nasty comments. I even got to the point where I decided that maybe I could hurl a few good ones at him and hit the mark, too. That was a mistake. I was an amateur compared with him; a feeble adversary–not even an adversary really. So out of my league that I never got anywhere with that plan. One night, we were watching a variety show on TV; the starring act was the Flying Wallendas. They were acrobats who flew through the air like they had wings they’d just forgotten to put on. And when I saw them, twirling up in the air, no fear, no worry, I thought to myself: That’s how the old man is when he talks; he’s a master. Only thing was, The Flying Wallendas weren’t hurting anyone, except maybe themselves if they fell. The old man hurt everybody. All the time.
There is literally no point in taking a minute out of my day to write about an acrobat. I refuse.
Adobe Acrobat is all what i know about it
The room was a claustrophobic’s worst nightmare – closed heavy doors, no windows, too many people, and stuffy, overdone decor. Prim and proper ‘ladies’ with clown makeup toted tuxedoed husbands like designer furs. Pretentious words flew about like bullets searching for targets of derision. Desperate for air, Tony grabbed his wife, Cara, for a slow dance, ignoring the absence of music. As his hand wandered too low for the propriety of the room, she smiled that secret smile he loved. “Trying to cause a scandal, darling?” she asked. He smirked and glanced up at the chandelier above. “No, if I were really trying to get a rise, I’d lift you up so you could show them just how well you kiss upside down.”
the girl acrobat did such amazing tricks and stunts that it amazed the crowd of people and a man afterwards who was so amazed that he asked her out and she said yes and he got so excited that he grabbed her hand swung her on her heels leaned down and gave her a huge kiss
An acrobat is so cool. I bet they have to be super flexible, right? And obviously nimble and athletic. Are there any acrobats that have a fear of heights? Where does the term acrobat come from? Where did it begin? I’m picturing tightrope walkers doing flips up in the air.
Crazy, that acrobat swing
How she rat-a-tat ‘cross that
Trapeze thing
Death trap, heart attack,
Ready, set, fling–
Fly! lady acrobat
Waiting in the wings.
The acrobat patterns of his incoherent thoughts teased me out of words..Afterall he was a writer
Acrobats are very skilled at swinging from swinging bars and have a lot of strength because they need to lift each other up.
The acrobat was in the traveling circus and he was the only one who knew how to do the acrobats. The acrobat was very skilled in his work.
The acrobat did some very incredible acrobatics with his partner.
Caleido Star: Régi-régi (mai szemmel nézve) anime, amely nagyra vitte, mint a főszereplő, Sora. Én személy szerint szerettem, kivéve Leont. Rontotta az összképet, ahogy annyira nagyra volt az “akrobata tehetségével”
Arigatou!
we dance to this lifeless tune
joylessly we spin
I wonder how we manage to twist our words
our stories
our lies
how we don’t get hurt sooner
deception is an art;
flexibility another-
variant of the truth
how many circus acts does one watch in a lifetime?
how many acrobats does one meet?
we toe the strings carefully
perhaps such is how we are to perform in life
Leap of faith
Free falling
The perfect flight of fancy
The blend of fire and ice
Composed explosion
Feather and rock.
There was an acrobat couple at Disney World, they were in The Lion King live musical/show thingy.
Her mind was doing gymnastics, trying to find a way our of this. She could lie. That is the easiest solution, obviously. But was there a way she could still be honest and get out of it without losing everything that was important to her.
He was watching her mental acrobat spin around inside her eyes. She never was good at hiding the process.
The acrobat flew through the air. He was pretty far away from the other handle, was he gonna make it? He grasped with one hand and missed as we all gasped, but his other hand caught the bar and he swung on it.
Deep breath,
just once more
Perform your best
your flight, cutting through the air
your hands, weighed
behind that mask
behind the charade,
your heart pounds so fast
you can feel it in your toes
flippant and flipping,
you refuse to follow Gravity’s will
sailing and dipping,
the audiences’ gasps are drowned out by
the blood rushing in your ears
they all stare in horror,
they all stare in pleasure,
as you risk your life for that fleeting moment
but the exhilaration!
that rush of electricity up and over your ever nerve
the mild vibrations that turn your quivering lips,
once afraid and chattering,
into a wild smile,
wide and infectuous
you land,
perfect
tens on four faces
tens in all our hearts