As I looked across the bay, I spotted the feathered form of a seagull. As I watched the silhouette of the bird faded into the distance I realized how much i wanted to fly.
Opals, crowns, and diamonds.
‘Tis what we see when we look
upon the cloaks of water fowl.
Blues, greens, and cherries.
‘Tis like a song sung from
the true heart of innocence.
Opals, crowns, and diamonds.
‘Tis like the gowns of the air
small wonders of the vast sky.
Fanciful feathered fowl.
incompetant feather head. light. memory foam pillows are superior. floating. Horton hears a who. fluffy. I really don’t like pancakes. crepes were a weird invention.
It reminds me of walking down by the river as a child where I saw children throwing bread to the ducks, it makes me feel happy and hark back to a time when the world was always sunny and dreams were alive and always to be gone for.
My wings are feathered and fathered, my father and his father. Those fathers feathered the wings of the ones they love. And like to love cause love is likeness…
she feathered the man with words as her husband sat and watched. he was skeptical at first at whether he should trust this dirty hobo. The woman was so giving to him though she knew nothing. Maybe it was a simple case of Stolkhome Syndrome or maybe she was too giving.
I wish my hair was feathered like Farrah’s. She was so sexy that way. A long time ago, yes. But sexy none the less. Plus she could get away with no bra. Which may or may not relate to her hair, but I would love to go braless full time. But I can’t…cause my boobs are too big…and my hair isn’t feathered.
Can I ask you a question? Can it be personal, because if not I’ll phrase it in a way that isn’t insulting, or grandizing, or systematizing. I’ll make the question a comforting one. One about a lightness that falls at the same rate as an anvil.
The bird had a feathered body. He flew. He left a feather, neat, clean, unharmed, laying on the white beach sand. A girl, who was enjoying the summer heat on the beach, picked up the feather and stored it in her pocket. When she got home, it was gone.
The sky was blue and feathered. It was a milky blue color. I feel like I have drunk a mouthful of feathers from a hen. It doesnt feel good. I don’t think I’ll need feathers to fly. I can fly if I only wanted to…
Earlier today I went out and bought a feather comforter. My mother had one, while I was growing up, and with Linnens and Things being purchased by Anna’s Linnens, and having the close out sale, it seemed the perfect time to bring that little bit of my childhood back to me. Of course, as I was there, I also had to buy a duvet…
soft and fluffy, it allows me to sleep well. I enjoy birds. They are often multicolored and fill the skies with brilliant plumage. There’s quite a few back where I come from, but none are as pleasant to see as the birds of south america. Blues and reds and greens in addition to whites and blacks and oranges and the greens of the forest come alive with the amazing visuals of nature left to its own purposes.
Thick rustling of tutus reverberated from the dressing room walls. Pearls draped and cheeks flushed. Feathered wires clung to shoulders of excited young girls as they peeked from behind the heavy stage curtain, smiling.
Feathered and Tethered. Rhymes. Hold me down, hold me up, just fucking HOLD me. Support me. Feathers to trail lightly down my back as I’m lying on your bed. I’m only here for a few short more days, then I’m going somewhere you can never follow me. Just love me now, for a few more hours, while I type and you sleep.
What do you know about the things that you know? I mean is it more that you are one with yourself? or are you more about different variations of things. When it gets right down to it, out lives are not ropes but the fine twines and fibers they are made from.
Swans and geese fill the air. I’m thinking of Bjork. I can’t believe that spelt that correctly. At least I think I did. Now I’m thinking about Forrest Gump and the white pristine feather that made its way slowly down to him and he happy with not a worry in the world. What it must be to live like that. To let life just take you where it may. It’s going to happen anyway.
It had been a slow day when he came into the room feathered hair and cloak down to his knees, wet from the rain. He whipped his hair swiftly to rid some of the dampness from his shining locks and promptly took off his coat to show a crimson red vest over a creme colored dress shirt.
The feathered hat was the focal point of the entire room. The head it was perched upon was nothing special, nor were the shoulders or the body beneath the head. Staring at it, I couldn’t help but wonder what she tried to cover with that confounded hat. Perhaps she simply didn’t like others focusing on her aging face. She’d clearly been beautiful once in her life, but that had diminished with time.
She got in her car and put the top down, letting her feathered hair flow in the wind. Golden locks of sunshine that seemed to go on forever. She smiled to herself as she pressed the ecelerator and left all of her sorrow behind her.
my feathered friends. they are gross. reminds me of pigeons. disgusting poop stained sidewalks. squawking in your face. or were you talking about feathered bangs? in which case, gross. reminds me of the 80’s, legwarmers and jazzercise.
birds, are beautiful. indeed they are actually the most beautiful animals in the world, in my opinion. What instigates this apeal you ask?
well in my opinion once again, it is their feathers
their glorious feathers.
all different colors can be found on the feathers of birds.
A bird is flying in the woods. Where it goes no one knows, but this bird is not just a winged animal of flight. It is an expression on our selves wanting to escape the cage that surrounds us. We want to rise above it and see new things that normally would not be seen from our own devised trap.
She sniffed the feathered plume of her lime-green pen and inhaled a small feather that was loosely planted. For three hours she imagined it was stuck in her lungs like leaves plastered on a wet window.
bird calling. the trees omg the trees green and the co friendly gasoline the greates tthingking sioadmf motomouro and the great ocean and speakers and the dinosours reverse engineer sadn tht ethe raptors wbut the jurassic park sucked and then less of th it make sense olol
154 am omg church burlington coat factory church. lol. needs tadfasdfd
I thought to myself, “What an odd looking bird”. Feathers of scarlet and lavender dotted it’s delicate wings. This image consumed me. It was beautiful.
My feathered hat makes me happy
it gives me plesure
is that such a hard thing to accept?
I feel an attachment to it
It fills me with warmth
while on the outside
I’m surrounded by the cold
The little gnome inside my feathered hat
tells me so
Everyone’s heart is nothing but a black hole
sucking up everything innocent thing that goes past
Feathered with the stresses and strains of daily life, he tries to unburden himself from all troubles and worries. Every now and then, a few plucks off. As he grows, becoming more feathered, he is more able to soar through higher grounds.
makes me think of birds. lik e emus, i went to the zoo thursday. it was great. it also makes me think of old women with hats. haha. and feather pillows. i love em. i have one on my bed right now. its so comfortable and soft.
Feathered like the native american’s head dress as he stands tall and proud. Feathered like the ends of the woman’s scarf, as she hails a taxi. Feathered like the decorations on a child’s art project. Looking closely we all have something in common. Right now…its feathers.
hands not touching hands
hearts touching hearts
that are not ours
i hope you are feathered with the happiness
which you deny me everyday
feathered
no i don’t want to write about this word
As I looked across the bay, I spotted the feathered form of a seagull. As I watched the silhouette of the bird faded into the distance I realized how much i wanted to fly.
Opals, crowns, and diamonds.
‘Tis what we see when we look
upon the cloaks of water fowl.
Blues, greens, and cherries.
‘Tis like a song sung from
the true heart of innocence.
Opals, crowns, and diamonds.
‘Tis like the gowns of the air
small wonders of the vast sky.
Fanciful feathered fowl.
incompetant feather head. light. memory foam pillows are superior. floating. Horton hears a who. fluffy. I really don’t like pancakes. crepes were a weird invention.
It reminds me of walking down by the river as a child where I saw children throwing bread to the ducks, it makes me feel happy and hark back to a time when the world was always sunny and dreams were alive and always to be gone for.
Love touches the soul like a feather light and free blowing in a summers wind lifting high into the clouds it floats with out a care
My wings are feathered and fathered, my father and his father. Those fathers feathered the wings of the ones they love. And like to love cause love is likeness…
the feathered hat was so luxurious. When she walked, it had this bounce to it, but it also blew in the wind, which gave it a very mystical sensation.
she feathered the man with words as her husband sat and watched. he was skeptical at first at whether he should trust this dirty hobo. The woman was so giving to him though she knew nothing. Maybe it was a simple case of Stolkhome Syndrome or maybe she was too giving.
I wish my hair was feathered like Farrah’s. She was so sexy that way. A long time ago, yes. But sexy none the less. Plus she could get away with no bra. Which may or may not relate to her hair, but I would love to go braless full time. But I can’t…cause my boobs are too big…and my hair isn’t feathered.
Can I ask you a question? Can it be personal, because if not I’ll phrase it in a way that isn’t insulting, or grandizing, or systematizing. I’ll make the question a comforting one. One about a lightness that falls at the same rate as an anvil.
Feets are not feathered. I don’t think much about feathers, or feathered things. I just think about my feet, and about using them to kick you.
The bird had a feathered body. He flew. He left a feather, neat, clean, unharmed, laying on the white beach sand. A girl, who was enjoying the summer heat on the beach, picked up the feather and stored it in her pocket. When she got home, it was gone.
Our feathered friends can be lonely littled creatures. Just think about it: They fly alone, eat alone, and sleep alone.
However, if you’re considerate, how about doing something really
There’s comfort in the word feathered.
The sky was blue and feathered. It was a milky blue color. I feel like I have drunk a mouthful of feathers from a hen. It doesnt feel good. I don’t think I’ll need feathers to fly. I can fly if I only wanted to…
Earlier today I went out and bought a feather comforter. My mother had one, while I was growing up, and with Linnens and Things being purchased by Anna’s Linnens, and having the close out sale, it seemed the perfect time to bring that little bit of my childhood back to me. Of course, as I was there, I also had to buy a duvet…
soft and fluffy, it allows me to sleep well. I enjoy birds. They are often multicolored and fill the skies with brilliant plumage. There’s quite a few back where I come from, but none are as pleasant to see as the birds of south america. Blues and reds and greens in addition to whites and blacks and oranges and the greens of the forest come alive with the amazing visuals of nature left to its own purposes.
Thick rustling of tutus reverberated from the dressing room walls. Pearls draped and cheeks flushed. Feathered wires clung to shoulders of excited young girls as they peeked from behind the heavy stage curtain, smiling.
Feathered and Tethered. Rhymes. Hold me down, hold me up, just fucking HOLD me. Support me. Feathers to trail lightly down my back as I’m lying on your bed. I’m only here for a few short more days, then I’m going somewhere you can never follow me. Just love me now, for a few more hours, while I type and you sleep.
What do you know about the things that you know? I mean is it more that you are one with yourself? or are you more about different variations of things. When it gets right down to it, out lives are not ropes but the fine twines and fibers they are made from.
Swans and geese fill the air. I’m thinking of Bjork. I can’t believe that spelt that correctly. At least I think I did. Now I’m thinking about Forrest Gump and the white pristine feather that made its way slowly down to him and he happy with not a worry in the world. What it must be to live like that. To let life just take you where it may. It’s going to happen anyway.
It had been a slow day when he came into the room feathered hair and cloak down to his knees, wet from the rain. He whipped his hair swiftly to rid some of the dampness from his shining locks and promptly took off his coat to show a crimson red vest over a creme colored dress shirt.
The feathered hat was the focal point of the entire room. The head it was perched upon was nothing special, nor were the shoulders or the body beneath the head. Staring at it, I couldn’t help but wonder what she tried to cover with that confounded hat. Perhaps she simply didn’t like others focusing on her aging face. She’d clearly been beautiful once in her life, but that had diminished with time.
She got in her car and put the top down, letting her feathered hair flow in the wind. Golden locks of sunshine that seemed to go on forever. She smiled to herself as she pressed the ecelerator and left all of her sorrow behind her.
my feathered friends. they are gross. reminds me of pigeons. disgusting poop stained sidewalks. squawking in your face. or were you talking about feathered bangs? in which case, gross. reminds me of the 80’s, legwarmers and jazzercise.
birds, are beautiful. indeed they are actually the most beautiful animals in the world, in my opinion. What instigates this apeal you ask?
well in my opinion once again, it is their feathers
their glorious feathers.
all different colors can be found on the feathers of birds.
A bird is flying in the woods. Where it goes no one knows, but this bird is not just a winged animal of flight. It is an expression on our selves wanting to escape the cage that surrounds us. We want to rise above it and see new things that normally would not be seen from our own devised trap.
She sniffed the feathered plume of her lime-green pen and inhaled a small feather that was loosely planted. For three hours she imagined it was stuck in her lungs like leaves plastered on a wet window.
He wished his soul had wings.
He would give all of it away for a chance at the sky.
Up.
Feathers danced to the unforgiving ground.
Little bits of paper
shredded
feathered
floating down above the already full trash can.
That’s one letter I don’t need anymore.
bird calling. the trees omg the trees green and the co friendly gasoline the greates tthingking sioadmf motomouro and the great ocean and speakers and the dinosours reverse engineer sadn tht ethe raptors wbut the jurassic park sucked and then less of th it make sense olol
154 am omg church burlington coat factory church. lol. needs tadfasdfd
I thought to myself, “What an odd looking bird”. Feathers of scarlet and lavender dotted it’s delicate wings. This image consumed me. It was beautiful.
My feathered hat makes me happy
it gives me plesure
is that such a hard thing to accept?
I feel an attachment to it
It fills me with warmth
while on the outside
I’m surrounded by the cold
The little gnome inside my feathered hat
tells me so
Everyone’s heart is nothing but a black hole
sucking up everything innocent thing that goes past
Feathered with the stresses and strains of daily life, he tries to unburden himself from all troubles and worries. Every now and then, a few plucks off. As he grows, becoming more feathered, he is more able to soar through higher grounds.
It was flying
It was soaring
It was free
It was me
You bought restrictions
You fired them
I fell
makes me think of birds. lik e emus, i went to the zoo thursday. it was great. it also makes me think of old women with hats. haha. and feather pillows. i love em. i have one on my bed right now. its so comfortable and soft.
Feathered like the native american’s head dress as he stands tall and proud. Feathered like the ends of the woman’s scarf, as she hails a taxi. Feathered like the decorations on a child’s art project. Looking closely we all have something in common. Right now…its feathers.