church. this is what churches have. I know, I know. Wine, Bread, Last supper. All things with this word. Also, bibles. there is usually a bible here. Pastor stands behind it. Preaching. This do in rememberence of me. How do you spell that? It’s a long word. What’s the point of this.
He stood at the alter in shock for a moment. He took a slow look around him at all his friends and family. They frown at him, unsure of what to do, which is when he closed his mouth, and smiled. “Well,” he said slowly, “that was short-lived.” His sister chuckled softly and walked up to him. “Guess she wasn’t a keeper.”
When I hear this word, I think of weddings. Lots of people do, I guess. Will I ever have one? Chances are slim, I think, but I keep hoping anyway, hoping that someday, someone will be able to love me like that, forever.
Cool. I swear they put this word up to make me look like an ass. I was all like, “hey I wrote about this word yesterday”… but then I realized yesterday’s word was “alter”. Accent on the “e”. I wrote about the wrong word yesterday. I feel like an absolute fool.
She stood before the altar where mere hours before was surrounded by friends and family she loved. She still wore the wedding dress that she would have gotten married in, if her fiancé had arrived.
He was no where to be found though.
She was now all alone with mascara tears stained upon her cheeks.
The organs bellowed above the ceremony, as the elderly woman forced her arthritic fingers to continue the traditional song. The flowers glowed brightly in the sunlight shining through the cracks of the stained glass windows. As the bride commenced down the aisle, no one could have suspected how terrible the day was to become.
standing at the altar, i was unable to speak. the vows i prepared couldn’t be read…i wasn’t able, and it’s just as well. had i read something personal, it would have seemed like so much more bullshit now that we’re apart. the factory farmed vows the JOTP gave us were meaningless, just like the ensuing 10 years.
she sat in front of the altar, just meditating and thinking. thinking about everything in this world, from the smallest ant to the biggest galaxy. she thought about numbers, words, hope, faith, love, silence, the moon, the sun, the stars: her only friend. she was alone, and that was fine with her.
Where sacrifices are made. Commitments. An altar is holy. I think of marriage and death at the same time. What does this mean? Are they one in the same?
The words drip like oil
onto the altar,
weighing down the crowd
in the room
on their sins,
their human parts of them
They soak onto
her blue cashmere sweater
and tinge the toupee of a lawyer,
fall on the carpet
of religion.
“Listen,” said the would-be sacrifice to the row of crazy people wielding daggers, “I don’t really think this is my thing, so I’m just going get off this altar and we’ll all go back to digging for water.”
A toothless one stumbled forward, “Buth my dagwar isp so prettah.”
“Yeah, still not a good reason to kill someone.” Said the would-be sacrifice. “I’m just going to take that away now.”
Now the would-be sacrifice was armed. And the intended “prey” thought having a weapon was a very “good thing.”
The cuts were shallow at first
but then the knife dug in
the sacrifice had been drugged
but fought against the pressure
of steel sinking in —
“But would there be rain?” They all wondered.
altar really altar? like in a church? I always wanted to go up there when i was little, yu know durring mass, that way i wouldn’t have to have the wine that ever one else drank out of. I could have my own. Ya i am wierd but i still think about it. whe
i remember i used to hate going to church because of all of the gossiping ladies there, they were ridiculous. hard to deal with for sure, especially because i was not a traditional good girl, like my cousin talene was. She and i were always compared, and she was always the better one. she was more girly, happier, pleasant, “attractive” according to my mother. that always made me jealous because i liked being the prettier one,
has something to do with church. and religion. or it could be sacrifices. like the aztecs. they ripped the still-beating hearts out of young maidens as a sacrifice to their gods. creepy, huh? thump thump. thump thump. i like the sound of heartbeats. when they’re slow, it’s relaxing. when they’re fast, it’s arousing. it’s like an eargasm.
marriage. i think im overthinking, im trying to spell things right. you go to an altar! which is where you’d get married or something like that. you get married when your in love and when your in love your close with somebody that you trust and want to be with forever. i hope this is the right altar… im not even sure. now im focusing on not thinking….
The man was standing there. He stood as still as a stone. He waited for the elegant woman to walk up the alley and find him at the altar. This was a huge step. The biggest one to take. He was about to dedicate his entire life to one woman. It was worth it.
I hope one day I will find myself kneeling on this altar with a full heart that leaps with happiness and understanding. I hope one day I can feel healed.
the blood spilled over it, the cow’s head first straining, the muscles in its neck bulging out like plucked harpstrings, and then going slack – quiet – empty. the blood keeps dripping even though the heart’s not beating any more. the eyes glaze over.
As I stood there, staring up at it, in all of it’s glory, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Is this all real?”. How do I know any of this exists at all? Then I realized something. I can’t, and that’s the beauty of it.
Jesus died because of our sins. An altar is seen during Mass. I think of Jesus when I see an Altar. oh, it’s Christmas. Merry Christmas! Yeah. I saw an altar during Mass last night. It was brown. With white table cloth.
altar, the place you stand before you get married. the sight of this can cause girls to swoon and guys to flee from the fear of commitment. its is both glorious and terrifying at the same time. ALTAR!!!
I think of weddings and the song by taylor swift called speak now about stopping someone from getting married and speaking up when the preacher asks if anyone has an objection to the marriage.
Question: Did he deserve to be left at the end of that aisle, pouring steel veins of blood across the center?
Answer: She hands a pale, pursed-lipped flight attendant her ticket; the motion causes her worn, grey hoodie to lift just enough that the purplish marring of her skin that blares vehement protest at all who happen to glance its way.
What do you mean you left him at the altar?
It was a common question in Gabriel’s life.
Why had his mother left him at the Church altar when he was only six months large?
Why had his fiancee left him at the Church altar when he was only twenty-six months small?
It always came back to that same stupid altar.
Maybe if it made more sense he wouldn’t find himself there so often now.
Asking the same old questions, again and again…
I sacrificed myself at your alter for far too long…belived in the limitations you set for me. Thank the good Lord I finally gained the courage to tell you to fuck off.
This man walked to the altar of his local Catholic church. He was a God-fearing man, but he needed the peace that only the altar could serve him, and he found comfort in the old customs ingrained in him as a child. The altar was a place of homage, but today, he fled to it as a place of security.
A sacrificial altar is a paradox, as often it is a shrine to an animal, where men are sacrificed. Or it can be a holy altar, where fables are worshipped, on the labors of man. Where’s the damn shrine to man? Sometimes I think we’ve all lost our dammed minds. and I’m out of time.
I walked up to the altar, my knees shaking and my eyes glazed to the most beautiful moment of my life.
church. this is what churches have. I know, I know. Wine, Bread, Last supper. All things with this word. Also, bibles. there is usually a bible here. Pastor stands behind it. Preaching. This do in rememberence of me. How do you spell that? It’s a long word. What’s the point of this.
He stood at the alter in shock for a moment. He took a slow look around him at all his friends and family. They frown at him, unsure of what to do, which is when he closed his mouth, and smiled. “Well,” he said slowly, “that was short-lived.” His sister chuckled softly and walked up to him. “Guess she wasn’t a keeper.”
When I hear this word, I think of weddings. Lots of people do, I guess. Will I ever have one? Chances are slim, I think, but I keep hoping anyway, hoping that someday, someone will be able to love me like that, forever.
Cool. I swear they put this word up to make me look like an ass. I was all like, “hey I wrote about this word yesterday”… but then I realized yesterday’s word was “alter”. Accent on the “e”. I wrote about the wrong word yesterday. I feel like an absolute fool.
Well done oneword.com, well done.
She stood before the altar where mere hours before was surrounded by friends and family she loved. She still wore the wedding dress that she would have gotten married in, if her fiancé had arrived.
He was no where to be found though.
She was now all alone with mascara tears stained upon her cheeks.
The organs bellowed above the ceremony, as the elderly woman forced her arthritic fingers to continue the traditional song. The flowers glowed brightly in the sunlight shining through the cracks of the stained glass windows. As the bride commenced down the aisle, no one could have suspected how terrible the day was to become.
standing at the altar, i was unable to speak. the vows i prepared couldn’t be read…i wasn’t able, and it’s just as well. had i read something personal, it would have seemed like so much more bullshit now that we’re apart. the factory farmed vows the JOTP gave us were meaningless, just like the ensuing 10 years.
she sat in front of the altar, just meditating and thinking. thinking about everything in this world, from the smallest ant to the biggest galaxy. she thought about numbers, words, hope, faith, love, silence, the moon, the sun, the stars: her only friend. she was alone, and that was fine with her.
Where sacrifices are made. Commitments. An altar is holy. I think of marriage and death at the same time. What does this mean? Are they one in the same?
here is where it all comes together.
where there is Christ, where there is the eucharist, there is love.
and if there is one thing that i will cling to at the end of the world, it is love.
The words drip like oil
onto the altar,
weighing down the crowd
in the room
on their sins,
their human parts of them
They soak onto
her blue cashmere sweater
and tinge the toupee of a lawyer,
fall on the carpet
of religion.
“Listen,” said the would-be sacrifice to the row of crazy people wielding daggers, “I don’t really think this is my thing, so I’m just going get off this altar and we’ll all go back to digging for water.”
A toothless one stumbled forward, “Buth my dagwar isp so prettah.”
“Yeah, still not a good reason to kill someone.” Said the would-be sacrifice. “I’m just going to take that away now.”
Now the would-be sacrifice was armed. And the intended “prey” thought having a weapon was a very “good thing.”
The cuts were shallow at first
but then the knife dug in
the sacrifice had been drugged
but fought against the pressure
of steel sinking in —
“But would there be rain?” They all wondered.
Writing about altar again.
So okay, I do pray. I pray before I sleep actually. I pray about what I want to happen, and I pray for the people I love.
I just don’t go to mass that often.
But I do believe in God and all.
Merry Christmas everyone!
I haven’t been to mass in forever… yikes.
So from alter to altar
it’s a homophone
and a homonym
altar really altar? like in a church? I always wanted to go up there when i was little, yu know durring mass, that way i wouldn’t have to have the wine that ever one else drank out of. I could have my own. Ya i am wierd but i still think about it. whe
i remember i used to hate going to church because of all of the gossiping ladies there, they were ridiculous. hard to deal with for sure, especially because i was not a traditional good girl, like my cousin talene was. She and i were always compared, and she was always the better one. she was more girly, happier, pleasant, “attractive” according to my mother. that always made me jealous because i liked being the prettier one,
Alter, altered, to be changed, to be altered.
alter, altar, alter
Altar, alter, something that is worshipped.
the altar.. its a spiritual concept used to convey what was once a powerful
has something to do with church. and religion. or it could be sacrifices. like the aztecs. they ripped the still-beating hearts out of young maidens as a sacrifice to their gods. creepy, huh? thump thump. thump thump. i like the sound of heartbeats. when they’re slow, it’s relaxing. when they’re fast, it’s arousing. it’s like an eargasm.
marriage. i think im overthinking, im trying to spell things right. you go to an altar! which is where you’d get married or something like that. you get married when your in love and when your in love your close with somebody that you trust and want to be with forever. i hope this is the right altar… im not even sure. now im focusing on not thinking….
The man was standing there. He stood as still as a stone. He waited for the elegant woman to walk up the alley and find him at the altar. This was a huge step. The biggest one to take. He was about to dedicate his entire life to one woman. It was worth it.
I hope one day I will find myself kneeling on this altar with a full heart that leaps with happiness and understanding. I hope one day I can feel healed.
the blood spilled over it, the cow’s head first straining, the muscles in its neck bulging out like plucked harpstrings, and then going slack – quiet – empty. the blood keeps dripping even though the heart’s not beating any more. the eyes glaze over.
hamburger, served rare.
As I stood there, staring up at it, in all of it’s glory, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Is this all real?”. How do I know any of this exists at all? Then I realized something. I can’t, and that’s the beauty of it.
Wherever you pray doesn’t make an ounce of difference.
Has been empty for some time, like my heart. And it echoes in the silence, the reflection, the time past and coming. It is for you. Always for you.
Jesus died because of our sins. An altar is seen during Mass. I think of Jesus when I see an Altar. oh, it’s Christmas. Merry Christmas! Yeah. I saw an altar during Mass last night. It was brown. With white table cloth.
altar, the place you stand before you get married. the sight of this can cause girls to swoon and guys to flee from the fear of commitment. its is both glorious and terrifying at the same time. ALTAR!!!
I think of weddings and the song by taylor swift called speak now about stopping someone from getting married and speaking up when the preacher asks if anyone has an objection to the marriage.
Question: Did he deserve to be left at the end of that aisle, pouring steel veins of blood across the center?
Answer: She hands a pale, pursed-lipped flight attendant her ticket; the motion causes her worn, grey hoodie to lift just enough that the purplish marring of her skin that blares vehement protest at all who happen to glance its way.
Do you really need to read between the lines?
What do you mean you left him at the altar?
It was a common question in Gabriel’s life.
Why had his mother left him at the Church altar when he was only six months large?
Why had his fiancee left him at the Church altar when he was only twenty-six months small?
It always came back to that same stupid altar.
Maybe if it made more sense he wouldn’t find himself there so often now.
Asking the same old questions, again and again…
I sacrificed myself at your alter for far too long…belived in the limitations you set for me. Thank the good Lord I finally gained the courage to tell you to fuck off.
This man walked to the altar of his local Catholic church. He was a God-fearing man, but he needed the peace that only the altar could serve him, and he found comfort in the old customs ingrained in him as a child. The altar was a place of homage, but today, he fled to it as a place of security.
table worship pictures flowers funeral holiday dead Skulls bowls food sugar marriage love eternal in love forever kisses hugs
A sacrificial altar is a paradox, as often it is a shrine to an animal, where men are sacrificed. Or it can be a holy altar, where fables are worshipped, on the labors of man. Where’s the damn shrine to man? Sometimes I think we’ve all lost our dammed minds. and I’m out of time.
I stood under a tree, at the alter of love, and said I do. And I meant it. Then, now and forever.
Altar bars and Altar boys. Choirs singing, whiskey stinging. Strobe lights and spiritual plights.