i tend to get writer’s block(s) sometimes. my neighbors get blocks of a different kind. their cars sit on their blocks in their front yard. that visual will definitely block creativity.
The city block baked beneath the afternoon sun. As I walked, my stomach rumbling, I thought back to a stories in my childhood. I was once told that when the temperature was high enough, you could cook eggs on the cement. I looked down at the carton of eggs in my hand. This should be interesting.
Blocks of lego. my favorite child toy. my favorite toy is meant for a child. But, i want to play it as a n adult. Going back to my childhood is not a surrender to childishness..
blocks. i remember when i was in kindergarten, we would rotate activities we did during the hour or two after lunch. one of my favorite activities were the blocks. i didn’t realize it at the time, but it must have been because blocks aren’t awkwardly gendered like a lot of kids games. anyway, this one time, we made a coffin out of the blocks… and my friend gabby climbed in. it was eery, but i remember it really vividly for some reason.
i watched the blocks fall i wish i would of caught them but it was to quick. time went on and i couldnt forget the blocks what do i tell my father he’ll never forgive well he sopposed to but not this time.
Blocks are fundamental to living! I mean just listen to the word block. It makes you feel better about your life! No, really blocks can be super cool and there is so much you can do with them, including throwing them at elephants with penguin heads.
mental blocks are problems we all have to deal with in every day life. one of the biggest mental blocks comes when trying to write a paper or trying to write a certain amount of cohesive, tangible words about a stupid word. Like the word blocks for instance. I’m having a very hard time thinking about anything more to say bout blocks, so I guess you could say it’s a mental block of sorts, but don’t say that because I hate puns.
I live within blocks of my school. It’s really easy toget there and see people getting blocked by taller people in basketball. It’s cool how blocks can make cubes. And cubes can make anything if they try hard enough. because, if they don’t try, what kind of cubes are they? Not very good ones if you ask me.
Blocks. Building, creating, stacking higher and higher until I can’t see them anymore. A new beginning, full of promise and hope, stretching to the sky. Until they all come tumbling down…
things that stand in my way
building blocks from my childhood
blocks are square
blocks can crumble
blocks are moveable
colors of blocks
disigns of blocks
mental block writer blocks road blocks
I think of the curses, the scream storms, the rage.
I think of the pressure and mountains of pain.
I think of cursing my useless body.
You can’t win a gold? You can’t be my girl.
I think of the diving block.
Leap into the water.
Smooth under the surface, and hopefully icy cold.
Come up for a breath, and go, and go, and go, and go, and go…
Blocks, I used to play with blocks when i was a kid, Although when i think about it now it was always more about destroying what i built rather than the building itself. That’s only semi-disturbing i suppose.
Blocks. Teeny tiny building block of differing shapes and sizes. I used to play with them as a kid–who knows where the hell they went off to–but yes, I do remember them. I think we used to drink lemonade then, too, without Jack. How strange we were as kids?
I used to play with blocks when I was younger. One time my brother built a block tower as high as the ceiling at day care. All the kids were jealous because the teacher allowed him to stand on the chairs to get the block tower to the top. But he did. It was all in great great fun. One kid then knocked them down.
He sat on the floor, his little chubby legs crossed at the ankles, building a tower of bright red blocks. Painstakingly, he placed one on the top of the other, with all the care of a skilled surgeon. His little pink tongue, out between his lips, as he concentrated fiercely on what he was doing.
Building blocks of the world are to be determined in an age where science and faith are the battle of all eternity. Who is really the one to decide how and when you climb the blocks laid in a symetrical stair like pattern, which will lead you to the land you please. Success? Maybe or where will you actually go when climbing these blocks?
So he looks at her…she wants to reach out. She wants to hit him, yell at him, scream, cry, kiss, beg, anything; but something is blocking her. She storms into her bedroom, and collapses at the desk, tears streaming in a rage down her cheeks. She picks up her pen and stares at her notebook, longing for words…but something is blocking her. Her life can’t seem to unclog.
Build me up
Knock me down
Never mind me
I’m just a tower
Like Jenga
Pull out a few blocks
I’m still standing
Pull out some more
I’m still standing
But push one misplaced block
And down I go
Ready to be rebuilt
One day
You’ll not be able to knock me down
Anymore
Because
My glue is getting stronger
And there’s more of it
So make the most of now
Because soon
My fragility will be a memory
You can bring me down
Only so many times
Before I stay down
But don’t be fooled
I will always be rebuilt
Stronger
Eventually
Slowly
Someone else will rebuild me
And hold onto me so I don’t collapse again
reminds me of childhood. from abc’s to legos to those big light colorful ones that i used to play with instead of reading in kindergarten. blocks are the ironic foundation to all things child and adult, blocks of time bricks and all else
I think of children. Little kids and colors. Even though there are millions of kinds of blocks, and blocks could even mean other things like fighting blocks or video game blocks, I think of kid blocks. It might be the colors of the timer and the color of the word. The colorful nature could subconsciously put that in my head.
blocks, the childlike simplistic recreation of a toy in shape form, bridge a wonderful link between the real, bleak world of actuality with the unrealistic but terrifically wonderful world of imagination. Only a
we walked twelve blocks to the place we heard the party would be
and when we arrived we saw smoke
and we smelled sweat
and your hand just so delicately brushed mine
and my heart beat faster than i knew how to accomodate
so i got a cup and i poured some courage into myself
and we became what we have always meant to be.
you can build with these, but sometimes they get in the way of what of your progress. they must be removed, on stepped on to take you to the next level. block can be fun…colorful..they remind me of kindergarten play time..laughter and innocence.
blocks are toys typically played with by children. They are often wooden and can be painted with shapes, symbols, or colors. Because they are such simple toys, they are mildly boring, unless you are a child or some easily amused individual who wants to make a super cool tower.
mondays tuesdays wednesdays and thursdays lets throw in fridays and saturdays while we’re at it watching kids fool around with their vast shapes and sizes of different blocks. Piling them up and tearing them down. While us parents sat back and watched them baffled by the way a child could be occupied days at a time with such inanimate objects…
The blocks of ice piled into the freezer, popped out one by one by my grandmother. She looks so skinny, but her eyes light up like the brightest watt bulb there is that doesn’t hurt the environment. The noises are bright and color, and the ice melts in the water like butter almost before sinking into the bottom.
they keep falling, reds, yellows, greens. rotate, rotate, so they will fit in place. lonely days playing tetris to pass the time. sundays, wednesdays no longer completely vacant.
they can stack up and be successful, or attempt at great heights and crash to the ground! your personality and outlook on life is basically a set of flimsy blocks that you determine the outcome!
blocks are square and you are supposed to think outside of them. I don’t know the purpose of a block or why we use it for such a wide variety of things. It seems so plain and boring because they are everywhere. blocks blocks blocks…i have writers block
I fall slowly down the grid
I am just a piece too you?
I inch down with every other piece of your life
slowly clicking into place
snug
I wish I were more than a block to your
I could have swore I was more then a piece of a puzzle
Block. They create, the restructure, they make up so many things around us. Legos are considered blocks, bricks are considered blocks. I’m sure children that played with Legos in their childhood grew up to design buildings, become architects and engineers.
I used to play with blocks as a kid. I would build with them, obviously. they fascinated me, the different ways that they could be put together. Their different combinations intrigued me and play a part in how i am today. Blocks were the building blocks of my brain and my interests. I love architecture, math, creation and other such thing.
blocks for thinking, blocks for making things, construction, rearinging it seems as though are life is full of blocks. Blocks to our family, road blocks. . . When will we get rid of all the blocks and be ok ?
Come in all shapes and sizes. I like building blocks. I can use them to carve my career. When i started doing what I love best, I had small building blocks. They eventually grew into larger blocks to make a foundation for me. Blocks are amazing and can come in all sorts of colors.
blocks are good if you are a baby. they are good for little tiny motor skills. If you are not a baby, blocks are good for murdering. or…not.
i tend to get writer’s block(s) sometimes. my neighbors get blocks of a different kind. their cars sit on their blocks in their front yard. that visual will definitely block creativity.
There was always something in the way. The “family” on the television. Her programs. His work schedule. The space between their beds.
It was as if the universe had conspired to perpetually keep them two feet apart.
The city block baked beneath the afternoon sun. As I walked, my stomach rumbling, I thought back to a stories in my childhood. I was once told that when the temperature was high enough, you could cook eggs on the cement. I looked down at the carton of eggs in my hand. This should be interesting.
Blocks of lego. my favorite child toy. my favorite toy is meant for a child. But, i want to play it as a n adult. Going back to my childhood is not a surrender to childishness..
blocks. i remember when i was in kindergarten, we would rotate activities we did during the hour or two after lunch. one of my favorite activities were the blocks. i didn’t realize it at the time, but it must have been because blocks aren’t awkwardly gendered like a lot of kids games. anyway, this one time, we made a coffin out of the blocks… and my friend gabby climbed in. it was eery, but i remember it really vividly for some reason.
i watched the blocks fall i wish i would of caught them but it was to quick. time went on and i couldnt forget the blocks what do i tell my father he’ll never forgive well he sopposed to but not this time.
the
little kid godzilla destruction. sharp corner bruises. primary colors.
Blocks are fundamental to living! I mean just listen to the word block. It makes you feel better about your life! No, really blocks can be super cool and there is so much you can do with them, including throwing them at elephants with penguin heads.
mental blocks are problems we all have to deal with in every day life. one of the biggest mental blocks comes when trying to write a paper or trying to write a certain amount of cohesive, tangible words about a stupid word. Like the word blocks for instance. I’m having a very hard time thinking about anything more to say bout blocks, so I guess you could say it’s a mental block of sorts, but don’t say that because I hate puns.
I live within blocks of my school. It’s really easy toget there and see people getting blocked by taller people in basketball. It’s cool how blocks can make cubes. And cubes can make anything if they try hard enough. because, if they don’t try, what kind of cubes are they? Not very good ones if you ask me.
Blocks. Building, creating, stacking higher and higher until I can’t see them anymore. A new beginning, full of promise and hope, stretching to the sky. Until they all come tumbling down…
blockade against my left.
stranded to whats right.
but the waves keep me uncentered.
things that stand in my way
building blocks from my childhood
blocks are square
blocks can crumble
blocks are moveable
colors of blocks
disigns of blocks
mental block writer blocks road blocks
I think of the hit–block.
I think of the pain–block.
Honey, what’s in there?
I think of the curses, the scream storms, the rage.
I think of the pressure and mountains of pain.
I think of cursing my useless body.
You can’t win a gold? You can’t be my girl.
I think of the diving block.
Leap into the water.
Smooth under the surface, and hopefully icy cold.
Come up for a breath, and go, and go, and go, and go, and go…
and be gone.
I think of the diving–block.
Blocks, I used to play with blocks when i was a kid, Although when i think about it now it was always more about destroying what i built rather than the building itself. That’s only semi-disturbing i suppose.
Blocks. Teeny tiny building block of differing shapes and sizes. I used to play with them as a kid–who knows where the hell they went off to–but yes, I do remember them. I think we used to drink lemonade then, too, without Jack. How strange we were as kids?
Building block tower
Knock it down, build it back up
Am I the tower?
I used to play with blocks when I was younger. One time my brother built a block tower as high as the ceiling at day care. All the kids were jealous because the teacher allowed him to stand on the chairs to get the block tower to the top. But he did. It was all in great great fun. One kid then knocked them down.
a b c blocks. stacking one on the other. it’s a simple existence.
He sat on the floor, his little chubby legs crossed at the ankles, building a tower of bright red blocks. Painstakingly, he placed one on the top of the other, with all the care of a skilled surgeon. His little pink tongue, out between his lips, as he concentrated fiercely on what he was doing.
Building blocks of the world are to be determined in an age where science and faith are the battle of all eternity. Who is really the one to decide how and when you climb the blocks laid in a symetrical stair like pattern, which will lead you to the land you please. Success? Maybe or where will you actually go when climbing these blocks?
So he looks at her…she wants to reach out. She wants to hit him, yell at him, scream, cry, kiss, beg, anything; but something is blocking her. She storms into her bedroom, and collapses at the desk, tears streaming in a rage down her cheeks. She picks up her pen and stares at her notebook, longing for words…but something is blocking her. Her life can’t seem to unclog.
Building blocks
Tumbling blocks
Build me up
Knock me down
Never mind me
I’m just a tower
Like Jenga
Pull out a few blocks
I’m still standing
Pull out some more
I’m still standing
But push one misplaced block
And down I go
Ready to be rebuilt
One day
You’ll not be able to knock me down
Anymore
Because
My glue is getting stronger
And there’s more of it
So make the most of now
Because soon
My fragility will be a memory
You can bring me down
Only so many times
Before I stay down
But don’t be fooled
I will always be rebuilt
Stronger
Eventually
Slowly
Someone else will rebuild me
And hold onto me so I don’t collapse again
Tower of blocks
Fragile tower
Fall, tower, fall
reminds me of childhood. from abc’s to legos to those big light colorful ones that i used to play with instead of reading in kindergarten. blocks are the ironic foundation to all things child and adult, blocks of time bricks and all else
I think of children. Little kids and colors. Even though there are millions of kinds of blocks, and blocks could even mean other things like fighting blocks or video game blocks, I think of kid blocks. It might be the colors of the timer and the color of the word. The colorful nature could subconsciously put that in my head.
blocks, the childlike simplistic recreation of a toy in shape form, bridge a wonderful link between the real, bleak world of actuality with the unrealistic but terrifically wonderful world of imagination. Only a
we walked twelve blocks to the place we heard the party would be
and when we arrived we saw smoke
and we smelled sweat
and your hand just so delicately brushed mine
and my heart beat faster than i knew how to accomodate
so i got a cup and i poured some courage into myself
and we became what we have always meant to be.
you can build with these, but sometimes they get in the way of what of your progress. they must be removed, on stepped on to take you to the next level. block can be fun…colorful..they remind me of kindergarten play time..laughter and innocence.
blocks are toys typically played with by children. They are often wooden and can be painted with shapes, symbols, or colors. Because they are such simple toys, they are mildly boring, unless you are a child or some easily amused individual who wants to make a super cool tower.
mondays tuesdays wednesdays and thursdays lets throw in fridays and saturdays while we’re at it watching kids fool around with their vast shapes and sizes of different blocks. Piling them up and tearing them down. While us parents sat back and watched them baffled by the way a child could be occupied days at a time with such inanimate objects…
The blocks of ice piled into the freezer, popped out one by one by my grandmother. She looks so skinny, but her eyes light up like the brightest watt bulb there is that doesn’t hurt the environment. The noises are bright and color, and the ice melts in the water like butter almost before sinking into the bottom.
they keep falling, reds, yellows, greens. rotate, rotate, so they will fit in place. lonely days playing tetris to pass the time. sundays, wednesdays no longer completely vacant.
they can stack up and be successful, or attempt at great heights and crash to the ground! your personality and outlook on life is basically a set of flimsy blocks that you determine the outcome!
blocks are square and you are supposed to think outside of them. I don’t know the purpose of a block or why we use it for such a wide variety of things. It seems so plain and boring because they are everywhere. blocks blocks blocks…i have writers block
I fall slowly down the grid
I am just a piece too you?
I inch down with every other piece of your life
slowly clicking into place
snug
I wish I were more than a block to your
I could have swore I was more then a piece of a puzzle
Block. They create, the restructure, they make up so many things around us. Legos are considered blocks, bricks are considered blocks. I’m sure children that played with Legos in their childhood grew up to design buildings, become architects and engineers.
I used to play with blocks as a kid. I would build with them, obviously. they fascinated me, the different ways that they could be put together. Their different combinations intrigued me and play a part in how i am today. Blocks were the building blocks of my brain and my interests. I love architecture, math, creation and other such thing.
blocks for thinking, blocks for making things, construction, rearinging it seems as though are life is full of blocks. Blocks to our family, road blocks. . . When will we get rid of all the blocks and be ok ?
I
Come in all shapes and sizes. I like building blocks. I can use them to carve my career. When i started doing what I love best, I had small building blocks. They eventually grew into larger blocks to make a foundation for me. Blocks are amazing and can come in all sorts of colors.