i am feathered in fear.
i am feathered in hate.
i hate not knowing what to do.
my life has been plucked.
yet, a heavy grief lingers on my skin.
i’m going to lose you aren’t i?
i’m not prepared for this.
and there it is again …
feathered in fear.
feathered in hate.
feathered in the wrongs things to make this right.
tell me how to make this right.
you want to lose me don’t you?
i’m not prepared for this.
feathered eyes in mince meat pies lie across my stage. The pages fold for stories told are wandering away. Funnels funnel wrongs and more into slips of little envelope chimes.
The great fethered pheonix flew majestically. She dived at the other birds flying around her and turned her flaming plumage on and off. She shreiked with joy as the sun hit her back.
Cap in hand we see thing we shouldn’t but never fear the existential ways we go about things in what we do or say. We are nothing more than what we see and do anyway.
the redundant
the fractal dispersion
of all you know
so tha tlife does not become
so cut and dry for you
there exists a process
a blending process
a way to gradually
bu quickly
go from here
to there
and everywhere in between
Like a boa? Or some sort of fancy garment that women wear. That’s all I can think it is – some sort of lady clothing. I like ladies. They wear clothing. Sometimes they don’t. I like how this word sounds. Feathered. It makes me think about falling from the sky, slowly. Like, just jumping out of a plane, and knowing you’ll land safely.
Peacock and pillow and wanting to fall asleep and feel so beautifully decorated that I could be killed and set on someone’s mantle, or used as a symbol for some ancient religious ritual.
Ther eis a drawing technique called feathering. The light strokes of the pencil or other drawing utensil lead me to always question whether or not the subject was then feathered. And if so, did that mean they would fluff up in a way similar to birds, when annoyed..
the bird flew through the air its wings outstretched feeling the currents passing through its feathers. sadly a larger bird was also flying through the air. the larger bird was hungry. moral of the story: don’t be silly, don’t be feathered.
there once was a man named feathered. he lived on his own in a town of birds. one morning he realized that he wasn’t a man but actually a feather form the birds.
A bird stepped slowly and hesitantly to the edge of the branch. As she glanced at the ground, she nervously spread her wings. She leapt of the familiarity that was solid tree and took feathered flight. Fhe freedom of the soaring was awesome and great. She was no longer afraid of anything.
when i was young, i was scared of pigeons
and by scared, i mean deathly afraid.
pigeons might not even have feathers.
but i was afraid of them because i believed they did.
so maybe i was really scared of feathers
and not pigeons.
My fine featherd friend is a bird. Actually he is not I am just writing about being featherd. Feathers are mostly on birds and sometimes in pillows, jackets. They keep things warm and protect from wet and trap air. They help things fly. I wishe a pillow could help me fly but it can’t. I would just drop to the ground if I took a feather pillow and jumped off a building. be Boom and splat, I’d dead. did I write all this? crazy shit.
um… alright so we have the word feathered. Meaning to feather out. That’s kind of an obscure word. Are we supposed to just write about it, or give definitions? Oh well It sure is interesting. Feathering, that is. Why do we have a word for that anyways? We could have so many more useful words. Like…. Hippo’d or something. I’m glad I get to finish this sentence.
Chickens roaming about the backyard,my feathered friends. They know me as soon as they hear my feet hit the porch, racing in front of each other, in hopes for some prized leftovers. “Here chick chick chick” and they dart for the leftovers, snagging it from each others mouths.
My brow was feathered. I had nowhere to go but down. I looked all around the room and everyone’s face was the same. Nothing but disappointment, nothing but anger, nothing but heart-wrenching fear. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. I tried to walk away, but I couldn’t. I closed my eyes and sat on the floor in the center of the crowd.
I feathered my pillows before I got ready to leave the house. I made sure that my make up was on and that my outfit was perfect. I locked the door and was on my way. I saw a woman who had feathered her hair and it looked nice. I decided that I wanted to do my hair differently too. So, after work, I’m going to go to the salon.
there was a duck and it went to the mall, when it got there ppl laughed at it because it was covered in a lot of feathers, thus it was a feathered duck. lol that is so funny said the ppl. now it’s time to eat some food. How about duck? duck sounds good beacuse it is feathered. pillows. down c
As youths we were quite frequently tarred and feathered. This unfortunate circumstance was brought on by our need for speed. We just couldn’t slow down our llamas.
A top the mahogany amour was the softly cooing feathered friend I called, Maca. He lulled me to sleep every night, and left traces of his presence throughout the house.
feath·ered (frd)
adj.
1. Covered, provided, or adorned with feathers.
2. Having feathering, as an animal’s coat.
3. Moving swiftly: feathered feet.
4. Having the chords of propeller blades parallel to the line of flight.
ooh. I like the third one. i dont get the last one. the first one is easy. the second one is ok.
wow. birds. i dont know if anything else have feathers. or if all birds have feathers. bu i guess something could be feathered with something besides feathers. im going to look it up after this. but probably. its a nice word. i like it.
I don’t know what is feathered
But i think it has something do with the texture and density of something. If it is something with how light or dense something is that would make sense. But i think not
one word is brief nothing to say but i am at a loss for words because the time alloted i thou ght was not enough time. i am just awaiting the results to see what i have done with this one word.
A big feathered skirt twirled around her ankles and the camera panned upward. You could see the elegance of the dress now as the blues and purples blended together in the soft moonlight. She danced like an angel and he watched in amazement. It was even about the dancing or the night but who she was.
i don’t know what the hell feathered means, but if i could have enough time iwould probably look for it on the net… in some translation site or somethins… im getting bored with this you piece of shit… sizty seconds is a lot a lot… i wanna eeenndd nowwww wnnddd nowwwww… ok… the is almost over hahahaha done done done done done on
light, as if you weren’t even brushing against my skin…yet I still feel the burning paths your fingers made…flesh on flesh…ghosting across the innocence of my body…oh how I wish I could keep you this way forever…yet once reality sinks in…we go back to laughter and smiles and throw away desire…
My fine feathered friends will only keep me from having the worst day imagineable. They will keep my sense of wonder working about how do those little wings allow those feathereed friends to fly in such cool ways. Especially hummingbirds. How do they rotate their shoulders like they do. Don’t you think pitchers or quarterbacks would like that ability? Feathered comforters are also the bomb.
Just like this bird just like this friend just like all I ever knew . . . you took me away to where I was before . . . you have a shallow grave and a DNA heart and a Northern Irish KGB love . . . look me in the eye and tell me that you no longer love me you no longer love me me me
well my fine feathered friend i think you need to wash that nappy looking melon of yours and feather that hair back.
i am feathered in fear.
i am feathered in hate.
i hate not knowing what to do.
my life has been plucked.
yet, a heavy grief lingers on my skin.
i’m going to lose you aren’t i?
i’m not prepared for this.
and there it is again …
feathered in fear.
feathered in hate.
feathered in the wrongs things to make this right.
tell me how to make this right.
you want to lose me don’t you?
i’m not prepared for this.
she woke up all covered in feathers…wtf was her first thought…
why am i covered in feathers?
I kinda bit a few pillows :D
feathered eyes in mince meat pies lie across my stage. The pages fold for stories told are wandering away. Funnels funnel wrongs and more into slips of little envelope chimes.
The great fethered pheonix flew majestically. She dived at the other birds flying around her and turned her flaming plumage on and off. She shreiked with joy as the sun hit her back.
fucking feathered again.. change the word already.
Cap in hand we see thing we shouldn’t but never fear the existential ways we go about things in what we do or say. We are nothing more than what we see and do anyway.
the redundant
the fractal dispersion
of all you know
so tha tlife does not become
so cut and dry for you
there exists a process
a blending process
a way to gradually
bu quickly
go from here
to there
and everywhere in between
Like a boa? Or some sort of fancy garment that women wear. That’s all I can think it is – some sort of lady clothing. I like ladies. They wear clothing. Sometimes they don’t. I like how this word sounds. Feathered. It makes me think about falling from the sky, slowly. Like, just jumping out of a plane, and knowing you’ll land safely.
Peacock and pillow and wanting to fall asleep and feel so beautifully decorated that I could be killed and set on someone’s mantle, or used as a symbol for some ancient religious ritual.
Ther eis a drawing technique called feathering. The light strokes of the pencil or other drawing utensil lead me to always question whether or not the subject was then feathered. And if so, did that mean they would fluff up in a way similar to birds, when annoyed..
the bird flew through the air its wings outstretched feeling the currents passing through its feathers. sadly a larger bird was also flying through the air. the larger bird was hungry. moral of the story: don’t be silly, don’t be feathered.
there once was a man named feathered. he lived on his own in a town of birds. one morning he realized that he wasn’t a man but actually a feather form the birds.
A bird stepped slowly and hesitantly to the edge of the branch. As she glanced at the ground, she nervously spread her wings. She leapt of the familiarity that was solid tree and took feathered flight. Fhe freedom of the soaring was awesome and great. She was no longer afraid of anything.
when i was young, i was scared of pigeons
and by scared, i mean deathly afraid.
pigeons might not even have feathers.
but i was afraid of them because i believed they did.
so maybe i was really scared of feathers
and not pigeons.
My fine featherd friend is a bird. Actually he is not I am just writing about being featherd. Feathers are mostly on birds and sometimes in pillows, jackets. They keep things warm and protect from wet and trap air. They help things fly. I wishe a pillow could help me fly but it can’t. I would just drop to the ground if I took a feather pillow and jumped off a building. be Boom and splat, I’d dead. did I write all this? crazy shit.
pillow billowing with fluff yet worn and dated and rough
um… alright so we have the word feathered. Meaning to feather out. That’s kind of an obscure word. Are we supposed to just write about it, or give definitions? Oh well It sure is interesting. Feathering, that is. Why do we have a word for that anyways? We could have so many more useful words. Like…. Hippo’d or something. I’m glad I get to finish this sentence.
Chickens roaming about the backyard,my feathered friends. They know me as soon as they hear my feet hit the porch, racing in front of each other, in hopes for some prized leftovers. “Here chick chick chick” and they dart for the leftovers, snagging it from each others mouths.
My brow was feathered. I had nowhere to go but down. I looked all around the room and everyone’s face was the same. Nothing but disappointment, nothing but anger, nothing but heart-wrenching fear. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. I tried to walk away, but I couldn’t. I closed my eyes and sat on the floor in the center of the crowd.
I feathered my pillows before I got ready to leave the house. I made sure that my make up was on and that my outfit was perfect. I locked the door and was on my way. I saw a woman who had feathered her hair and it looked nice. I decided that I wanted to do my hair differently too. So, after work, I’m going to go to the salon.
there was a duck and it went to the mall, when it got there ppl laughed at it because it was covered in a lot of feathers, thus it was a feathered duck. lol that is so funny said the ppl. now it’s time to eat some food. How about duck? duck sounds good beacuse it is feathered. pillows. down c
feathers red indians native americans birds Seguins and outfits designs and costumes pride-filled birds
As youths we were quite frequently tarred and feathered. This unfortunate circumstance was brought on by our need for speed. We just couldn’t slow down our llamas.
A top the mahogany amour was the softly cooing feathered friend I called, Maca. He lulled me to sleep every night, and left traces of his presence throughout the house.
hair ugly eighties hair
again? ive had this word already. oh well
feath·ered (frd)
adj.
1. Covered, provided, or adorned with feathers.
2. Having feathering, as an animal’s coat.
3. Moving swiftly: feathered feet.
4. Having the chords of propeller blades parallel to the line of flight.
ooh. I like the third one. i dont get the last one. the first one is easy. the second one is ok.
wow. birds. i dont know if anything else have feathers. or if all birds have feathers. bu i guess something could be feathered with something besides feathers. im going to look it up after this. but probably. its a nice word. i like it.
I don’t know what is feathered
But i think it has something do with the texture and density of something. If it is something with how light or dense something is that would make sense. But i think not
“did you say her hair was feathered”?
in a good way. of course.
One word, i think this is important because you need to summarize your speech into one word. I am sure how you do it but you have to.
one word is brief nothing to say but i am at a loss for words because the time alloted i thou ght was not enough time. i am just awaiting the results to see what i have done with this one word.
Just one drop of down whitens the air enough to reveal a smile.
A big feathered skirt twirled around her ankles and the camera panned upward. You could see the elegance of the dress now as the blues and purples blended together in the soft moonlight. She danced like an angel and he watched in amazement. It was even about the dancing or the night but who she was.
i don’t know what the hell feathered means, but if i could have enough time iwould probably look for it on the net… in some translation site or somethins… im getting bored with this you piece of shit… sizty seconds is a lot a lot… i wanna eeenndd nowwww wnnddd nowwwww… ok… the is almost over hahahaha done done done done done on
light, as if you weren’t even brushing against my skin…yet I still feel the burning paths your fingers made…flesh on flesh…ghosting across the innocence of my body…oh how I wish I could keep you this way forever…yet once reality sinks in…we go back to laughter and smiles and throw away desire…
My fine feathered friends will only keep me from having the worst day imagineable. They will keep my sense of wonder working about how do those little wings allow those feathereed friends to fly in such cool ways. Especially hummingbirds. How do they rotate their shoulders like they do. Don’t you think pitchers or quarterbacks would like that ability? Feathered comforters are also the bomb.
Birds are feathered.
Feathers are light. Feathers are almost weightless.
Soft.
Feathers are in pillows.
SOft and free you float to the earth snowy white. A snow flake so unique and yet so bright. You brighten my heart.
Just like this bird just like this friend just like all I ever knew . . . you took me away to where I was before . . . you have a shallow grave and a DNA heart and a Northern Irish KGB love . . . look me in the eye and tell me that you no longer love me you no longer love me me me