It went off in the middle of the night, waking everyone from an unsteady sleep. The night sky lit up as sparks flew and a fire started, the noise from the cannon deafening us all for agonizing minutes while we abandoned our warm beds for the cold steel of our revolvers.
The cannon sounded… Its boom reverberated in his chest. He looked up in fear, over the bayonets and the bodies of his comrades strewn across the battlefield. Why, he questioned, am I even here?
a bomb blast. now, if you are thinking canon, you’re wrong. is there a canon for cannons? what about that fat guy with his shirt off who gets hit in the stomach with a cannonball….in slow motion! camera…
It is a sad reality in our world that weapons still occupy an important part of development and purchasing. We spend so much money making weapons “more humane.” Yes we may not use cannons anymore but at least a cannon required someone to fire it. Now we use drones and machines (yes, along with man power) but it means we can kill people without really having anyone really committing to anything. Talk about
cannon. oh… it’s sad that i think about bad things when i see this word. i think of war. and destruction. of all the bad that has come from it. i wish i wouldn’t. i wish that no word would be completely affiliated with war. but unfortunately this one is. well maybe pirates too. but i mainly think of the… hmmm… was it the american revolution? i think it was. well, i think of that war. not good. but what can i do? i’ll have to deal with knowing that i will forever have bad association with that word and war.
The cannon fired
into my heart
and splattered me with fairy dust.
It glittered in the night
like rain in little light,
and I saw the sun rise
with a smile on its face,
greeting me for another day.
I saw the clouds
lift up from their slumber,
wave at me
from above in numbers.
I saw the grass
crawl out of the ground,
catching the fairy dust all around.
It was a good day.
pirates of the carribean is coming out with a fourth movie but they failed to put keira knightly and orlando bloom in it. so obviously i am not going to watch it. johnny depp is attractive but he can definitely not do the movie without those two higly attractive people. no doubt about it.
the cannon is loud and strong. The cannon balls are like steel pom poms, and they make beautiful boom sounds. It is kind of like music, like drums, like steel drums. Of war. It is intense and scary and beautiful, those single syllable pounds.
you have them on ships and they shoot big balls at pirates and you can sink other peoples ships with them because they leave big holes in things. Used in the civil war, pirates of the Caribbean and such
There was a sound like a cannon blast. Instinctively, I hit the floor, pulling my friend Jill with me. I shoved her under the chem lab table as people screamed, glass shattered, and bodies hit the floor– out of instinct or from injury, I didn’t know. Everything was so noisy and confusing. I sliced my palm on a broken test tube on the floor, but I didn’t even feel it as I scooted next to Jill, my heart hammering. More blasts echoed and more people screamed; Why here, I thought, Why at my school?
I should have taken that offer to skip school this morning.
The cannon fires and I can practically feel my eardrums rupture. Silence. How can something that was once so revolutionary no be nothing but a tool for destruction. It has taken away my livelyhood. The cannon killed me.
war. all i hear is war. outside my bedroom is war. i hear screaming and crying and cannons firing, taking lives. cannons dont have secret good meanings. they’re all bad. nothing good in them. they mean to kill. hurt. kill. and hurt more.
you shoot things from a cannon. used in the revolutionary war. henry knox dragged cannons in the war over 300 miles. he had mad skills yo. washington made him do it. crazy ass task you know. he was da man.
once a long time ago there was an old general who had a rusty old cannon in his backyard. You see, he was a retired general and it was of sentiment to him. That particular cannon not only saved his life in the war, but saved his best friend, and introduced him to his loving wife as well.
Pirates.
Thats what they said.
The cannon burst.
It sounded like a flame in my body.
Argh….
Said the pirate.
Gun powder was everywhere.
The cannon was in my face.
Sudenly, the world was spinning.
I know what was happening.
I was going to die right now.
Out of the cannon shot Gonzo the Brave, the most well known circus pirate this side of the Atlantic. His body propelled toward the enemy ship, his clown makeup gleaning in the pale moonlight. A terror or a mockery, one can never know.
violence and war is mostly what comes to mind. pirate ships and johnny depp with eyeliner. i’ve seen a few cannons in real life – they were mostly at historical sites and whatnot. i’m not sure how they work or anything. interesting to think of their purpose, right? blowing people off the map… or were they even that powerful?
the cannon roars with the expectance of the death that it is about to create. the lines of soldiers stand no chance against the ball, hurtled forth through the ether towards them. It scatters the line, punching a hole through all of then, blood and gore flying through the air like doust motesught in the summer sky. clouds drift through the sun and glint the cannons steel barrel, shimmering and reflecting a greyish beaty that cannot be forgotten. the man who fired the cannon looks out to the death and destruction that he has caused, and smiles grimly. it was the cannon that caused their deaths, not him. He was only an instrument in their deaths, a blameless sort of fate that is not substantial enough to be blamed. The cannon sits evilly He stands innocently. Who is to blame? certainlynot him. The wicked glint off of the barrel agrees, silently.
They argued for a long time about what fit, and what was less than – classic literature. The two department heads – one current, one former – were polar opposites.
sometimes, i feel like a cannon. just ready to go off. waiting for someone to light my match, set me free.
i wish you would light me up sometimes.
but then i just remember that i’m a special cannon. and you just want to use me for a human cannon ball.
i deserve better than that.
Out of the cannon shot Gonzo the Brave, the most well known circus pirate this side of the Atlantic. His body propelled toward the enemy ship, his clown makeup gleaning in the pale moonlight. A terror or a mockery, one can never know.
“DOWN! DOWN! EVERYBODY DOWN!” Jasper grabbed me and rammed my face into the dirt just as the deafening roar of a cannon filled my world with chaos and confusion. For a few seconds I couldn’t hear anything, and I was only vaguely aware of Jasper’s face, clearly screaming something at me that the aftershock of the cannon’s thunder was drowning out.
cannon makes me think of war, but not only war, of things bursting from another, like my heart is a cannon for love, or my eyes are cannons for tears, it is not always a negative meaning but it can be good things too. war is not the only thing with cannons.
Nick Cannon came to the University of Rhode Island a week or so ago for a comedy show. He was pretty funny, but not as much as I though he was going to be, especially since he is such a big star. I just found out his wife Mariah Carrey is having twins…I don’t like her.
I feel like sometimes i would like to shot a ball out of acannon. Pirates and old ships come to mind. ARRGGHH. THen they went on to make pirinters and copiers…sal barabuscio, Cameras and beautiful pictures. Landscapes. Can on.
“. . . And that’s why I joined the circus. Yes, you, in the back?”
“Did you ever get drunk at the circus?”
“I think that’s an inappropriate question for school, but, seeing as how being in the circus can be such a dangerous job – yes. I was drunk all the time at the circus.”
“Did you ever do stuff with the bearded lady at the circus? While you were drunk?”
“The bearded lady is just a man in a pregnant suit. And yes. Yes I did do things with Marshall.”
this was his first day on the firing line. He had heard so many stories, about so much horror that his nerves were filled with the impending dread that you feel when the best case scenario you can come up with is that you won’t be killed at all.
It rang. It rang loud, harsh, cutting. He shivered, the sound resonating through his body, shaking his rib cage, making his soul tremble, wherever it resided. The smoke was thick and white, and as it began to clear, the damage came into focus…
He was tall, gorgeous, chiseled abs and eyes like blue diamonds. He walked over to the girl with the smaller frame, the dark hair, the green cat eyes. He held her in his arms, tight to his chest, as she began to sob. “Maddsion,” Cannon breathed, “It’s okay. Everything is fine.” Her little body wracked with sobs, and he rocked her gently, shushing her, wishing he could do something to make her stop crying. But there was nothing he could do to ease that kind of pain, no matter how long they’d been best friends.
cannon can be used as a weapon. Rather it is a weapon that was used some what effectively in the early 1600’s or so. I have no clue about that time point.
Once upon a time, there was a little cannon, named Buster. One day, Buster wanted to be strong enough to knock down the Berlin wall. So he trains and trains and trains until one day, he asplodes.
The first time she saw him, it was like a cannon shot, blowing her backwards with the force of his magical differentness. When he came over after the show to talk to her, she was still riding the wave of the sounds the colors and the sights and him) she couldn’t remember her name for a moment, could hardly remember herself. When she finally thought of it she announced it in a squeak, her face turned pink. She only hoped he didn’t notice how flustered she was.
He smiled, shook her hand, told her his name. She thought it was rather normal, for such a fascinatingly unusual man. And yet it was surely the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.
The shockwaves from the blast followed her outside the theater, all the way home, and the echoes reverberated though her dreams.
I couldn’t believe it when the cannon appeared in the room. It was so big. I mean, you see them in movies all the time; you know the ones, pirates, wenches, rope. But they never seemed to be THAT size before now. Fuck. That’s a big cannon.
“Flash cannon, sweet,” she said, turning over a machine in her hands. Cool. It was wonderful. She loved it. She was going to destroy the room with this tiny flash cannon. Yes. This was going to be fabulous.
It went off in the middle of the night, waking everyone from an unsteady sleep. The night sky lit up as sparks flew and a fire started, the noise from the cannon deafening us all for agonizing minutes while we abandoned our warm beds for the cold steel of our revolvers.
The cannon sounded… Its boom reverberated in his chest. He looked up in fear, over the bayonets and the bodies of his comrades strewn across the battlefield. Why, he questioned, am I even here?
You shoot out your lies from that cannon you call your mouth. Prepared for battle and loads of ammunition, you just shoot away.
a bomb blast. now, if you are thinking canon, you’re wrong. is there a canon for cannons? what about that fat guy with his shirt off who gets hit in the stomach with a cannonball….in slow motion! camera…
It is a sad reality in our world that weapons still occupy an important part of development and purchasing. We spend so much money making weapons “more humane.” Yes we may not use cannons anymore but at least a cannon required someone to fire it. Now we use drones and machines (yes, along with man power) but it means we can kill people without really having anyone really committing to anything. Talk about
cannon. oh… it’s sad that i think about bad things when i see this word. i think of war. and destruction. of all the bad that has come from it. i wish i wouldn’t. i wish that no word would be completely affiliated with war. but unfortunately this one is. well maybe pirates too. but i mainly think of the… hmmm… was it the american revolution? i think it was. well, i think of that war. not good. but what can i do? i’ll have to deal with knowing that i will forever have bad association with that word and war.
The cannon fired
into my heart
and splattered me with fairy dust.
It glittered in the night
like rain in little light,
and I saw the sun rise
with a smile on its face,
greeting me for another day.
I saw the clouds
lift up from their slumber,
wave at me
from above in numbers.
I saw the grass
crawl out of the ground,
catching the fairy dust all around.
It was a good day.
pirates of the carribean is coming out with a fourth movie but they failed to put keira knightly and orlando bloom in it. so obviously i am not going to watch it. johnny depp is attractive but he can definitely not do the movie without those two higly attractive people. no doubt about it.
the cannon is loud and strong. The cannon balls are like steel pom poms, and they make beautiful boom sounds. It is kind of like music, like drums, like steel drums. Of war. It is intense and scary and beautiful, those single syllable pounds.
you have them on ships and they shoot big balls at pirates and you can sink other peoples ships with them because they leave big holes in things. Used in the civil war, pirates of the Caribbean and such
There was a sound like a cannon blast. Instinctively, I hit the floor, pulling my friend Jill with me. I shoved her under the chem lab table as people screamed, glass shattered, and bodies hit the floor– out of instinct or from injury, I didn’t know. Everything was so noisy and confusing. I sliced my palm on a broken test tube on the floor, but I didn’t even feel it as I scooted next to Jill, my heart hammering. More blasts echoed and more people screamed; Why here, I thought, Why at my school?
I should have taken that offer to skip school this morning.
The cannon fires and I can practically feel my eardrums rupture. Silence. How can something that was once so revolutionary no be nothing but a tool for destruction. It has taken away my livelyhood. The cannon killed me.
war. all i hear is war. outside my bedroom is war. i hear screaming and crying and cannons firing, taking lives. cannons dont have secret good meanings. they’re all bad. nothing good in them. they mean to kill. hurt. kill. and hurt more.
The smell was enough to bring me back. Gunpowder…grass…and cannons.
I will never go back to the circus again.
you shoot things from a cannon. used in the revolutionary war. henry knox dragged cannons in the war over 300 miles. he had mad skills yo. washington made him do it. crazy ass task you know. he was da man.
A big bom!(:
I killed him by shooting him by a cannon!
Can you hear the cannons fire??
once a long time ago there was an old general who had a rusty old cannon in his backyard. You see, he was a retired general and it was of sentiment to him. That particular cannon not only saved his life in the war, but saved his best friend, and introduced him to his loving wife as well.
Pirates.
Thats what they said.
The cannon burst.
It sounded like a flame in my body.
Argh….
Said the pirate.
Gun powder was everywhere.
The cannon was in my face.
Sudenly, the world was spinning.
I know what was happening.
I was going to die right now.
Out of the cannon shot Gonzo the Brave, the most well known circus pirate this side of the Atlantic. His body propelled toward the enemy ship, his clown makeup gleaning in the pale moonlight. A terror or a mockery, one can never know.
violence and war is mostly what comes to mind. pirate ships and johnny depp with eyeliner. i’ve seen a few cannons in real life – they were mostly at historical sites and whatnot. i’m not sure how they work or anything. interesting to think of their purpose, right? blowing people off the map… or were they even that powerful?
the cannon roars with the expectance of the death that it is about to create. the lines of soldiers stand no chance against the ball, hurtled forth through the ether towards them. It scatters the line, punching a hole through all of then, blood and gore flying through the air like doust motesught in the summer sky. clouds drift through the sun and glint the cannons steel barrel, shimmering and reflecting a greyish beaty that cannot be forgotten. the man who fired the cannon looks out to the death and destruction that he has caused, and smiles grimly. it was the cannon that caused their deaths, not him. He was only an instrument in their deaths, a blameless sort of fate that is not substantial enough to be blamed. The cannon sits evilly He stands innocently. Who is to blame? certainlynot him. The wicked glint off of the barrel agrees, silently.
They argued for a long time about what fit, and what was less than – classic literature. The two department heads – one current, one former – were polar opposites.
sometimes, i feel like a cannon. just ready to go off. waiting for someone to light my match, set me free.
i wish you would light me up sometimes.
but then i just remember that i’m a special cannon. and you just want to use me for a human cannon ball.
i deserve better than that.
Out of the cannon shot Gonzo the Brave, the most well known circus pirate this side of the Atlantic. His body propelled toward the enemy ship, his clown makeup gleaning in the pale moonlight. A terror or a mockery, one can never know.
“DOWN! DOWN! EVERYBODY DOWN!” Jasper grabbed me and rammed my face into the dirt just as the deafening roar of a cannon filled my world with chaos and confusion. For a few seconds I couldn’t hear anything, and I was only vaguely aware of Jasper’s face, clearly screaming something at me that the aftershock of the cannon’s thunder was drowning out.
cannon makes me think of war, but not only war, of things bursting from another, like my heart is a cannon for love, or my eyes are cannons for tears, it is not always a negative meaning but it can be good things too. war is not the only thing with cannons.
a single shot
and another
do we shoot our cannons
like we shoot our coffee?
darkness
is subjective
i drink mine black
The cannon boomed–I could hear it. But nothing was to be seen. Who knows? When the ammunition runs dry, perhaps I’ll still be standing. Perhaps.
Nick Cannon came to the University of Rhode Island a week or so ago for a comedy show. He was pretty funny, but not as much as I though he was going to be, especially since he is such a big star. I just found out his wife Mariah Carrey is having twins…I don’t like her.
I feel like sometimes i would like to shot a ball out of acannon. Pirates and old ships come to mind. ARRGGHH. THen they went on to make pirinters and copiers…sal barabuscio, Cameras and beautiful pictures. Landscapes. Can on.
“. . . And that’s why I joined the circus. Yes, you, in the back?”
“Did you ever get drunk at the circus?”
“I think that’s an inappropriate question for school, but, seeing as how being in the circus can be such a dangerous job – yes. I was drunk all the time at the circus.”
“Did you ever do stuff with the bearded lady at the circus? While you were drunk?”
“The bearded lady is just a man in a pregnant suit. And yes. Yes I did do things with Marshall.”
this was his first day on the firing line. He had heard so many stories, about so much horror that his nerves were filled with the impending dread that you feel when the best case scenario you can come up with is that you won’t be killed at all.
It rang. It rang loud, harsh, cutting. He shivered, the sound resonating through his body, shaking his rib cage, making his soul tremble, wherever it resided. The smoke was thick and white, and as it began to clear, the damage came into focus…
He was tall, gorgeous, chiseled abs and eyes like blue diamonds. He walked over to the girl with the smaller frame, the dark hair, the green cat eyes. He held her in his arms, tight to his chest, as she began to sob. “Maddsion,” Cannon breathed, “It’s okay. Everything is fine.” Her little body wracked with sobs, and he rocked her gently, shushing her, wishing he could do something to make her stop crying. But there was nothing he could do to ease that kind of pain, no matter how long they’d been best friends.
cannon can be used as a weapon. Rather it is a weapon that was used some what effectively in the early 1600’s or so. I have no clue about that time point.
Once upon a time, there was a little cannon, named Buster. One day, Buster wanted to be strong enough to knock down the Berlin wall. So he trains and trains and trains until one day, he asplodes.
The first time she saw him, it was like a cannon shot, blowing her backwards with the force of his magical differentness. When he came over after the show to talk to her, she was still riding the wave of the sounds the colors and the sights and him) she couldn’t remember her name for a moment, could hardly remember herself. When she finally thought of it she announced it in a squeak, her face turned pink. She only hoped he didn’t notice how flustered she was.
He smiled, shook her hand, told her his name. She thought it was rather normal, for such a fascinatingly unusual man. And yet it was surely the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.
The shockwaves from the blast followed her outside the theater, all the way home, and the echoes reverberated though her dreams.
Cannon… it is a complex word. A paradox. It can. But with the work non…. it suggests it can’t.
How odd.
I couldn’t believe it when the cannon appeared in the room. It was so big. I mean, you see them in movies all the time; you know the ones, pirates, wenches, rope. But they never seemed to be THAT size before now. Fuck. That’s a big cannon.
“Flash cannon, sweet,” she said, turning over a machine in her hands. Cool. It was wonderful. She loved it. She was going to destroy the room with this tiny flash cannon. Yes. This was going to be fabulous.