I am feeling so ancient right now,historical Artifacs, ancient history and Egyptions and how they
lived.if i could time travel i would go to to te time period of the Egyptions,to see what the ate,and
they did to entertain themselves.
reading about things that are ancient is incredible. the word itself sounds majestic and regal. anything described as ancient sounds as if it would be so exciting to see or touch or smell. egypt greece rome
This word makes me think of egyptians. They built pyramids, but only the richest of the rich. They thought that your soul needed a place to live in the after life. I don’t like that idea, because if you were a servant in real life, you would be a servant in the afterlife. I bet the poor people didn’t really like this idea, but they didn’t have a choice.
The ancient forest beckoned calling her name softly in the rustling of the leaves on the gnarled branches of the trees. A strange feeling came over her as she slowly ventured in.
ancient is something that is really old. I think of ancient egypt. Some people refer to old people as being ancient! Ancient makes me think of ruins like the ancient ruins in italy.
The way she looked was in a way that reminded me of an ancient side table you see in an antique store. Something simple but alluring, something you don’t want but you need.
I’ve already had this word, right? Why does it appear anyway?
To show some things stay with us forever? That history repeats itself?
It does, still no need to remember my little monkey brain.
This word reminds me of the Book of Mormon. And AP World History. Ancient Aztecs, Ancient Mayans, Ancient Egypt, etc. Also reminds me of my grandparents. Yikes! But they are kind of old…
The ancient runes rose high above the beach. Karri stuck her spear in the sound and watched as the light from the fading sun changed against the stone walls.
An ancient locket, old and wise beyond it’s years rested on the chair in front of me. How did that get here? I didn’t recall having seeing it when moving in earlier. “Come” a cold voice hissed, I turned around wildly. I could swear I was dreaming. “Hello?”
The skies reached up around me as I traversed the ancient grounds. Artifacts that no one has laid eyes on in centuries lay scattered across the ground, their value forgotten. My foot stepped upon something soft. In the dust, something the Old Ones called a “Teddy Bear.”
My body feels ancient as I climb the stairs to the top of the eifel tower. It has to be worth it I say to myself. It has to be. I keep putting one foot in front of the other, thinking about all the biggest loser challanges I’ve seen invloving stairs. If they can do it, so can I. Well, at least I hope I can.
Alte Menschen riechen seltsam. Alte Menschen reden seltsam. Oft hören sie nicht mehr richtig. Sie sehen nicht mehr richtig. Sie sind in sich eingekapselt. Sie reden, aber sie fragen nicht nach wenn ich selbst etwas erzähle. Sie wollen nicht wissen, wie es mir geht. Nur das, was sie schon von mir zu wissen glauben, wollen sie noch einmal bestätigt haben.
She ran her hands over the stone, feeling the age and the history and willing it to seep into her skin and impart any kind of wisdom on her. She wanted to walk away affected. She wanted to walk around different. What was that Rilke poem? “You must change your life…”
Suzy felt ancient as she tried to get out of bed the next day. Only being in her early thirties you would think she could still handle drinking with the girls till 2! It seems like she can’t handle parties like she used to.
As the memory system that is rooted in a human body seems to have existed since… forever, I literally cannot believe my ancient mind, which has gone through so many evolutions and has never been any more complex than right now, can’t think of a fitting short text for this topic.
It’s interesting how some concepts in our lives are themes. Sometimes they feel new and sometimes they feel like we have been working on them for life times. I often feel like I have been struggling to love myself for life times. I wonder why it is so difficult to love myself and feel lovable to others.
the buildings are crumbling, deteriorating, slowly but surely dying. we walk amongst them, a group of nobodies, a group of nothing, feeling more at home in this place of rubble than in any other place. like the buildings, we are falling. like them, we are withering into nothingness.
The time was old. Everything was just a memory, dying as fast as light travels. The only remeniscence of survival was what was left behind. The ancient artifacts are all we have to see.
Ancient times. Bible. Religious traditions. I think about how people talked, behaved and the reasons why. I am curious as to their motivations and why specific traditions were so important. They shaped our world. How can we not be interested. How can we not want to know more about who we are and why we are the way we are and do the things that we do?
Ancient. When I think of ancient, I go back to Egyptian times. Ancient as in artifacts. Ancient as in mummies. Pyramids. Just history. Tp me ancient remains to live forever because of the stories being told from the history.
ancient Greek statues
whisper around my ankle
like a bomb of sprinkled wrinkle
swim in it, swim and drown
turn that smile upside down
health and beauty
thoughtful process
get off that mattress
reeducate your mind
go out and come back
and wake up
“The ancient ruins are right this way,” Melanie pointed a little further ahead, beckoning her tourist group to follow. “Now be careful, because there is a slight drop along this rocky pathway.”
The group ambled forward, some holding up cameras and others iPhones, trying to capture the moment. Melanie sighed, biting back the impatient words that were at the tip of her tongue. These people were so engrossed in their technology that they–
A shrill scream pierced the air. A girl Melanie had seen earlier with her parents had taken a misstep and fallen over the edge of the guardrail.
The stories that we tell might seem new, wrapped up in bright, shiny paper and tied with ribbons that gleam in the light, presented in a way that appears surprising and original. In truth, they all contain the spirits of the ancient storytellers, their dusty fingerprints remaining in fragments on the pages. The epics and the poetry, the fairy tales and the folklore – those tales continue to speak to us, leaving tufts of warm breath in our ears.
I am feeling so ancient right now,historical Artifacs, ancient history and Egyptions and how they
lived.if i could time travel i would go to to te time period of the Egyptions,to see what the ate,and
they did to entertain themselves.
BY LAUREN ARTHUR
my favorite ancient history
1 of my favorite subjects is history,especially ancient history
historical artiface, statue, place, gold, silver, copper, rusty, old, pricless, timeconsumming
its yellow, oxidising, degraded to rubble.
i stand in her midst, gazing upon
her majesty.
hello geo frogs that eat yingyangs for snack and goobles dive tumb down in the koala tickle pit he ate a noodle kookoo bird for noodles
skye got an ancient transformer helicopter it turned in to a robot and a police car
hello geo frogs that eat yingyangs for snack and goobles dive tumb down in the koala tickle pit
reading about things that are ancient is incredible. the word itself sounds majestic and regal. anything described as ancient sounds as if it would be so exciting to see or touch or smell. egypt greece rome
the pyrimids of egipt are ancient so is the tombs inside and temples and so is the shinx
This word makes me think of egyptians. They built pyramids, but only the richest of the rich. They thought that your soul needed a place to live in the after life. I don’t like that idea, because if you were a servant in real life, you would be a servant in the afterlife. I bet the poor people didn’t really like this idea, but they didn’t have a choice.
ancient dino saur eat marble bananas for lunch after a trilleon gears ate geniouses after
Old things remind us about how the present is transient and how we are bound to become just as old as anything on this planet.
The ancient forest beckoned calling her name softly in the rustling of the leaves on the gnarled branches of the trees. A strange feeling came over her as she slowly ventured in.
ancient is something that is really old. I think of ancient egypt. Some people refer to old people as being ancient! Ancient makes me think of ruins like the ancient ruins in italy.
The way she looked was in a way that reminded me of an ancient side table you see in an antique store. Something simple but alluring, something you don’t want but you need.
I’ve already had this word, right? Why does it appear anyway?
To show some things stay with us forever? That history repeats itself?
It does, still no need to remember my little monkey brain.
The Ancient Rome I wish it is nice.
This word reminds me of the Book of Mormon. And AP World History. Ancient Aztecs, Ancient Mayans, Ancient Egypt, etc. Also reminds me of my grandparents. Yikes! But they are kind of old…
The ancient runes rose high above the beach. Karri stuck her spear in the sound and watched as the light from the fading sun changed against the stone walls.
An ancient locket, old and wise beyond it’s years rested on the chair in front of me. How did that get here? I didn’t recall having seeing it when moving in earlier. “Come” a cold voice hissed, I turned around wildly. I could swear I was dreaming. “Hello?”
The skies reached up around me as I traversed the ancient grounds. Artifacts that no one has laid eyes on in centuries lay scattered across the ground, their value forgotten. My foot stepped upon something soft. In the dust, something the Old Ones called a “Teddy Bear.”
a history i don’t like to study
too old, so old the details are muddy
more than 200 years ago
it leaves me befuddled
My body feels ancient as I climb the stairs to the top of the eifel tower. It has to be worth it I say to myself. It has to be. I keep putting one foot in front of the other, thinking about all the biggest loser challanges I’ve seen invloving stairs. If they can do it, so can I. Well, at least I hope I can.
Alte Menschen riechen seltsam. Alte Menschen reden seltsam. Oft hören sie nicht mehr richtig. Sie sehen nicht mehr richtig. Sie sind in sich eingekapselt. Sie reden, aber sie fragen nicht nach wenn ich selbst etwas erzähle. Sie wollen nicht wissen, wie es mir geht. Nur das, was sie schon von mir zu wissen glauben, wollen sie noch einmal bestätigt haben.
She ran her hands over the stone, feeling the age and the history and willing it to seep into her skin and impart any kind of wisdom on her. She wanted to walk away affected. She wanted to walk around different. What was that Rilke poem? “You must change your life…”
Suzy felt ancient as she tried to get out of bed the next day. Only being in her early thirties you would think she could still handle drinking with the girls till 2! It seems like she can’t handle parties like she used to.
As the memory system that is rooted in a human body seems to have existed since… forever, I literally cannot believe my ancient mind, which has gone through so many evolutions and has never been any more complex than right now, can’t think of a fitting short text for this topic.
It’s interesting how some concepts in our lives are themes. Sometimes they feel new and sometimes they feel like we have been working on them for life times. I often feel like I have been struggling to love myself for life times. I wonder why it is so difficult to love myself and feel lovable to others.
the buildings are crumbling, deteriorating, slowly but surely dying. we walk amongst them, a group of nobodies, a group of nothing, feeling more at home in this place of rubble than in any other place. like the buildings, we are falling. like them, we are withering into nothingness.
The time was old. Everything was just a memory, dying as fast as light travels. The only remeniscence of survival was what was left behind. The ancient artifacts are all we have to see.
Ancient times. Bible. Religious traditions. I think about how people talked, behaved and the reasons why. I am curious as to their motivations and why specific traditions were so important. They shaped our world. How can we not be interested. How can we not want to know more about who we are and why we are the way we are and do the things that we do?
I’m starting to feel so ancient. Is language dead? Or am I using the wrong one? Why do you feel so far away? Please come back, I love you Xiu Xie
Ancient. When I think of ancient, I go back to Egyptian times. Ancient as in artifacts. Ancient as in mummies. Pyramids. Just history. Tp me ancient remains to live forever because of the stories being told from the history.
Who I am tonight: you see me across the way but I’m a mirage lifted up by heat waves and slipping beyond your vision.
ancient Greek statues
whisper around my ankle
like a bomb of sprinkled wrinkle
swim in it, swim and drown
turn that smile upside down
health and beauty
thoughtful process
get off that mattress
reeducate your mind
go out and come back
and wake up
beside me
“The ancient ruins are right this way,” Melanie pointed a little further ahead, beckoning her tourist group to follow. “Now be careful, because there is a slight drop along this rocky pathway.”
The group ambled forward, some holding up cameras and others iPhones, trying to capture the moment. Melanie sighed, biting back the impatient words that were at the tip of her tongue. These people were so engrossed in their technology that they–
A shrill scream pierced the air. A girl Melanie had seen earlier with her parents had taken a misstep and fallen over the edge of the guardrail.
Fear seized her insides as panic reigned.
The stories that we tell might seem new, wrapped up in bright, shiny paper and tied with ribbons that gleam in the light, presented in a way that appears surprising and original. In truth, they all contain the spirits of the ancient storytellers, their dusty fingerprints remaining in fragments on the pages. The epics and the poetry, the fairy tales and the folklore – those tales continue to speak to us, leaving tufts of warm breath in our ears.