A balcony is a part of a house. Usually on the outside overlooking the area surrounding the house. A balcony can add value to a house. That’s it really
She peered through the grating and saw just the body down below. No movement. Which was expected, honestly, I mean, how much would she be moving if she had just plummeted fourteen stories?
She leaned over to look below her at the sand and the sea. She saw the street bustling with activity and the waves crashing, providing the underscoring. The smell of the town relaxed her.
i have one it is big i go ther ewith my cousind we throw shoes off it but then we didnt find it the princess fell off her balcony and broke her leg so nthey blocked it off woith outr asking and the king was angry.
The ocean view is amazing. Snow stopped mountains sing the song of a mountain goat far away. The dolphins splash in the water, but the only think we can see is the grey tip of their spotted tails. If only I could walk out on my balcony at home and see this. But instead all I see there are green trees and green grass, and brown logs. There is no exquisite beauty such as that on this gorgeous cruise ship.
She stood on the balcony like a sardine, squeezed in between a couple of drunk frat guys as they pelted pedestrians below on Bourbon Street with used Mardi Gras beads.
The night was clear and quiet. I sat there, looking at the glittering cloth of the sky, and then it struck me : I wasn’t alone. Out there, lost in the universe, there must be someone else.
I can’t be the only one left…
A knock on my balcony door. Another knock. I went to look. Two ravens were there, rapping against my glass dor, with their beaks. When I came to the door, they flew away. One into the sky. The other to the opposite roof, where he strutted around and preened himself.
Where some people have to be placed in your life. You don’t want them gone completely; they just need to be in a place where you can see them. They can see you; you can see them, but they aren’t close enough to you to be a real factor in your day to day.
Here we are again, on my cardboard balcony, overlooking an ocean of paper and words. I’d offer you champagne, but I don’t have much extra cash for good bubbly, so here’s a hard cider served in a flute instead. A toast to the poets, the crazy people with too many sentences forming narratives in their heads. I hope you find comfort on a balcony that somehow withstands the rare California rain.
She was the sunset and sunrise combined. Absolutely breathtaking in her white camisole top and silk shorts, barefoot; standing on the balcony, leaning against the rusted blue rails. Her face an untouched art piece that glowed as bright as the rising sun. One hand held onto a mug, probably carrying her liquid energy to keep her going.
Maybe it was the same one that sat lonesome on the coffee table before me. Possibly. I took my cup in my hands. I imagined that the sudden warmth that exploded onto my palms was like the warmth that would radiate from her hands if I got the chance to hold them. I pressed my lips against the edge of my cup; the rising from my coffee fogging my glasses so I closed my eyes.
I took a sip. Swallowed.
There was something about that cup of coffee. Something beautiful and pure about the warmth that touched my lips and entered my body. Something new and alive. I held the cup with both hands, close to my face. Through the fog of my glasses, I saw her. Her face was unclear but that shine and glow was so amazingly clear. The world around me was mute. This glowing entity that stood silently, basking in the sun on that stage demanded my attention – louder than any siren, drum, yell… she was better than that.
My balcony girl. Oh how I hoped she felt my energy in her cup of life as I felt hers through mine.
okay so i already did this one BUT i am basically getting a balcony next year, and I’m super excited because I think it’ll be the setting of a lot of important moments in my next year. I’ll be smoking a lot of Js there, i’ll be having a lot of heart to hearts–its going to be a respite for me, as I think we’ll have lots of people over all of the time, so having a place where I can just b r e a t h e will be so nice.
Here I sit on the balcony ledge. Waiting. Longing. Nothing but the wind invites me into its ever welcoming embrace. If not for you, I would have never seen the light. If not for you, I would have never been lost in the first place.
I sat on the balcony thinking about the way that your hair curled above your eyebrow. My breath caught in my throat as I looked down and there you were with a bouquet of candy bars, and a smile as goofy as you are.
I stand at the edge of the balcony. My hands grip the fence. I jump up. I am crouching on the balcony. “This is it,” I whisper. “This is it!” I yell to the town. I let myself fall off. The last thing I remember is a warm, happy feeling in the center of my chest.
Standing on the balcony, I saw Harold lunge towards me with a knife. How could he be so outraged that I had slept with his wife one time. I know at least three other men who have also had the pleasure but they didn’t get caught. What a fool. I dodged poor Harold who went sailing off into the great beyond. The swimming pool for my condo building was waiting below for the hapless Harold. Oh, life’s little indignities. I rushed to the elevator, hoping Harold hadn’t done himself any real injury. By the time I arrived, he had already hauled himself out of the pool and stalked off. A co-tenant with whom I was friendly said everyone was totally amazed. One person even said that he might try the big dive himself. He had thought the idea was completely crazy until Harold’s swan dive.
I promptly went to the phone to tell Louise that Harold had discovered our little moment of passion.
A balcony is a part of a house. Usually on the outside overlooking the area surrounding the house. A balcony can add value to a house. That’s it really
Other people may keep geraniums on their balcony, but he decided to fill up the window boxes with green, rotten chocklet bunies.
She peered through the grating and saw just the body down below. No movement. Which was expected, honestly, I mean, how much would she be moving if she had just plummeted fourteen stories?
She leaned over to look below her at the sand and the sea. She saw the street bustling with activity and the waves crashing, providing the underscoring. The smell of the town relaxed her.
the rest, the home, the outside inside. the air consumer break
I keep myself busy with work and school requirements, yet sometimes I would go out in the balcony and just stare at the outside world.
(shit post but watevr)
i have one it is big i go ther ewith my cousind we throw shoes off it but then we didnt find it the princess fell off her balcony and broke her leg so nthey blocked it off woith outr asking and the king was angry.
The ocean view is amazing. Snow stopped mountains sing the song of a mountain goat far away. The dolphins splash in the water, but the only think we can see is the grey tip of their spotted tails. If only I could walk out on my balcony at home and see this. But instead all I see there are green trees and green grass, and brown logs. There is no exquisite beauty such as that on this gorgeous cruise ship.
She stood on the balcony like a sardine, squeezed in between a couple of drunk frat guys as they pelted pedestrians below on Bourbon Street with used Mardi Gras beads.
What is balcony?
The night was clear and quiet. I sat there, looking at the glittering cloth of the sky, and then it struck me : I wasn’t alone. Out there, lost in the universe, there must be someone else.
I can’t be the only one left…
A knock on my balcony door. Another knock. I went to look. Two ravens were there, rapping against my glass dor, with their beaks. When I came to the door, they flew away. One into the sky. The other to the opposite roof, where he strutted around and preened himself.
Where some people have to be placed in your life. You don’t want them gone completely; they just need to be in a place where you can see them. They can see you; you can see them, but they aren’t close enough to you to be a real factor in your day to day.
I sat on the railing, looking out into nothingness, seeing nothing except the blood-red sun, going below the horizon.
Balconies are verandahs around the high rise houses. There is no glass, just look out, no windows!
The balcony is a kind of verandah outside our homes. They are like windows, but no glass. You can just stand there and look out.
Here we are again, on my cardboard balcony, overlooking an ocean of paper and words. I’d offer you champagne, but I don’t have much extra cash for good bubbly, so here’s a hard cider served in a flute instead. A toast to the poets, the crazy people with too many sentences forming narratives in their heads. I hope you find comfort on a balcony that somehow withstands the rare California rain.
She was the sunset and sunrise combined. Absolutely breathtaking in her white camisole top and silk shorts, barefoot; standing on the balcony, leaning against the rusted blue rails. Her face an untouched art piece that glowed as bright as the rising sun. One hand held onto a mug, probably carrying her liquid energy to keep her going.
Maybe it was the same one that sat lonesome on the coffee table before me. Possibly. I took my cup in my hands. I imagined that the sudden warmth that exploded onto my palms was like the warmth that would radiate from her hands if I got the chance to hold them. I pressed my lips against the edge of my cup; the rising from my coffee fogging my glasses so I closed my eyes.
I took a sip. Swallowed.
There was something about that cup of coffee. Something beautiful and pure about the warmth that touched my lips and entered my body. Something new and alive. I held the cup with both hands, close to my face. Through the fog of my glasses, I saw her. Her face was unclear but that shine and glow was so amazingly clear. The world around me was mute. This glowing entity that stood silently, basking in the sun on that stage demanded my attention – louder than any siren, drum, yell… she was better than that.
My balcony girl. Oh how I hoped she felt my energy in her cup of life as I felt hers through mine.
okay so i already did this one BUT i am basically getting a balcony next year, and I’m super excited because I think it’ll be the setting of a lot of important moments in my next year. I’ll be smoking a lot of Js there, i’ll be having a lot of heart to hearts–its going to be a respite for me, as I think we’ll have lots of people over all of the time, so having a place where I can just b r e a t h e will be so nice.
Here I sit on the balcony ledge. Waiting. Longing. Nothing but the wind invites me into its ever welcoming embrace. If not for you, I would have never seen the light. If not for you, I would have never been lost in the first place.
Here I sit, waiting. Longing. And nothing but the wind invites me into its ever welcoming embrace. If not for you, I would have never seen the light.
I sat on the balcony thinking about the way that your hair curled above your eyebrow. My breath caught in my throat as I looked down and there you were with a bouquet of candy bars, and a smile as goofy as you are.
I stand at the edge of the balcony. My hands grip the fence. I jump up. I am crouching on the balcony. “This is it,” I whisper. “This is it!” I yell to the town. I let myself fall off. The last thing I remember is a warm, happy feeling in the center of my chest.
Standing on the balcony, I saw Harold lunge towards me with a knife. How could he be so outraged that I had slept with his wife one time. I know at least three other men who have also had the pleasure but they didn’t get caught. What a fool. I dodged poor Harold who went sailing off into the great beyond. The swimming pool for my condo building was waiting below for the hapless Harold. Oh, life’s little indignities. I rushed to the elevator, hoping Harold hadn’t done himself any real injury. By the time I arrived, he had already hauled himself out of the pool and stalked off. A co-tenant with whom I was friendly said everyone was totally amazed. One person even said that he might try the big dive himself. He had thought the idea was completely crazy until Harold’s swan dive.
I promptly went to the phone to tell Louise that Harold had discovered our little moment of passion.