The flaming feathers pierced her skin so fast she would hardly have know they were there, but for the searing pain she suddenly felt as fire consumed her body.
Is feathered a word for being tarred and feathered like in the 1800’s when people were humiliated publicly for committing a crime? Or does it mean to lessen something? I don’t know?
Feathered . . .birds. They fly high and free. They are also quite smart. How did they figure to do their triangle formation? Instinct is interesting. Nature vs. nurture? Who knows. It’s probably both. One can follow instincts, but also overcome them.
birds with microscopic peanut overalls, eating giant cockroaches with their yellow beaks. forget about whatever you think you know about birds and giraffes…it’s all a lie, it’s a protest thing. don’t forget that without birds you cannot have trees. without trees there are no papers. gimme paper. movie birds bloody eyes scares my child.
i hate this gay ass word i wish it was dead omg i wish it would just jump off the page and die omg i wish it would and then i would be so happy that it was dead that i would run around in circles for hours and then i would die and then i would be very sad.
my wings floated through the spring time air and i flew far above the city in a gust of hot air. as i started to look below, i noticed feathers falling off of my wings. little did i know that i hadn’t feathered my wings so!
Feathered … reminds me of my down comforter and a really bad haircut from the 90s. Such a simple word that reminds me of two completely different things. Down comforter solicits happy feelings of comfort and warmth. Even security. But the haircut … oh, that haircut. Word of advice, don’t try to feather your hair. Ever. Especially if you have fine hair to begin with. But man, I love that down comforter! Speaking of which, I think it’s time for bed.
moonlight oh god don’t you see the crows. one murder. another flying in. im floored by the masses oh spectacular!! feed them throw the crumbs. frenzy. frenzy. how wonderful it must be to come back.
his hair was feathered back in a mullet like fashion except this feathered hair went over his ears like a gust of wind in a children’s book. the mark hammill poster on his wall shone brightly.
birds are feathered, but so was the hair in the 80s, at least the bangs were. So is the hair from the old couple on the amazing race. boas are feathered and it alwyas seems to add a little pizazz to a situation. Feathered things are soft and pretty, usually.
Feathered….angel wings are feathered.
Fairy wings are feathered.
you needs feathers for your wings to fly, don’t you think? White feathers are the best….like light…they will take your HIGHER!
Do you wear your feelings or do you just wear your clothes?
I wear my feelings…they are quite obvious what feelings I am wearing at any given moment if they are feelings of depth. If it is pain…maybe not so much as I do the Scorpio thing and go into the distance…secret keeping mode.
Flying is not their strong suit. In fact, they can barely perch themselves atop the six foot fence without extreme effort, but when they do, their pride is profound. That is, until they find themselves stuck, unable to leap down, afraid, longing for their coop, needing to lay the day’s egg.
He walked down the street with a red feather connected to his purple hat. His matching purple suit with yellow highlights caught the eyes of everybody in eye-sight. He walked down with pride and enjoyment.
He simply loves getting people to freak out over nothing. And here, with this outfit, is doing just that. Giving people something to talk about.
Feathered makes me think of bangs. and feathers. in fact, I really disliked feathered hair. reminds me of the eighties, and as much as people like the eighties these days, I hate them. They were sleazy and cheasy. nobody knew how to dress, and all the colors clashed. very very obnoxious.
feathered is the feeling that hits you when you know that staring into this bright light and turning blind. But not from the intenseity of the bulb, but from the white beauty that is held within this glass case and is just dying to be set free, just stare all you want.
The feathered white object cleaned itself, poking its beak at each nook and cranny.
The woman beat the feathered pillow.
The feathered object was more strange than anything he’d ever seen.
She feathered the art with such amorousness.
josh. life screws you over. how ca nlove disappear in such a little amount of time. i hate it. i hate him. to some degree. how could he. how could he hurt me. i thought it would never happen. but it did and i want to scream! fuck him. im going to do what i want. i don’t care about after effects anymore.
feathered hair like in the eighties. it almost looks like it’s fried, or should be. i want to dance with somebody! yeah, that’s what it reminds me of, even though she didn’t have feathered hair. feathered hair makes me want to dance. feathered dresses make me want to fly. birds in my hair… that’s not fair
I don’t know what means, but I thing it’s the quality of something who have feathers, like chickens. Chickens don’t fly, even though it has feathers. So there’s no logical sentence between having fathers and flying.
He was tarred and feathered. Every single part of his skin was in his own version of hell. He let out a scream but nothing came out. He was like a chicken of death, a cruel mockery of the grim reaper. He was death. There was nothing anyone else could do. THis was his fate.
i think of a feathered pillows and comforter. i feel us wrapped up together as i wake up next to you in the whiteness of the space. floating on a cloud, lighter than air, loving you. I miss that comforter.
pillows have feathers and so do birds.
one day some birds flew past my house in a V formation, i really wish i knew where they were going but i know that when they come back next year. they will have been somewhere. i wish i could fly, and go with them, on their journey to another place. just to feel for one day like i can do whatever i believe i can
I have a memory of pillows at my grandmother’s that supposedly had feathers in them. I always thought about sleeping on geese. It was weird. I don’t remember feeling the ends of the feathers but supposedly it was made of real feathers.
I think that i want to be a in a soft safe warm bed. One of feathers that you can just float away in your dreams. It would be a great dream one of rainbows and clouds and pefect.
the feathered manifold was beautiful, consisting of elaborate and beautiful colored feathers. what the fuck is a manifold? id really like to know, and i am starting to wonder if feathers even go into it? now im curious, im going to check that shit out…
I thought there was more than one way to progress. You have your ups and downs. The sideways, the frontways, the middleways. There’s also the middle ages and the dark ages too. Everything’s in there. Just a big simmering pot of magic boiling over to move the human race forward. That’s what it is, isn’t it? The flight of the human spirit towards something greater? Something free? This progress… or does it chain us further?
It may have been because I didn’t know you very well, or maybe I am a petty person. Either way I wish I would have been nicer to you. But seriously, that feathered hair of yours was too much not to laugh at. But if I knew you were so sad, I like to think I would have laughed a little quieter.
i already had this word. is this the only word? but anyway i talked about drivers ed. cause that was the first time i heard the word ‘feathered’ and i had another lesson with mr. dente yesterday. it was in the rain and no one was observing me so i wasn’t embarassed when i messed up the three-point turn. mr. dente’s so nice.
i feathered on the brake in drivers ed and mr dente said i was doing a good job. i was really nervous cause it was my first driving hour with him and aaron hunt was observing. but i got less nervous about how i drove when aaron started driving because he almost killed us a few times. he can be really awkward. he talks like he’s extremely uncomfortable being talked to. i felt bad.
floating slowly
falling softly
traped in time
traped in space
out of mind
out of place
The flaming feathers pierced her skin so fast she would hardly have know they were there, but for the searing pain she suddenly felt as fire consumed her body.
Is feathered a word for being tarred and feathered like in the 1800’s when people were humiliated publicly for committing a crime? Or does it mean to lessen something? I don’t know?
Feathered . . .birds. They fly high and free. They are also quite smart. How did they figure to do their triangle formation? Instinct is interesting. Nature vs. nurture? Who knows. It’s probably both. One can follow instincts, but also overcome them.
birds with microscopic peanut overalls, eating giant cockroaches with their yellow beaks. forget about whatever you think you know about birds and giraffes…it’s all a lie, it’s a protest thing. don’t forget that without birds you cannot have trees. without trees there are no papers. gimme paper. movie birds bloody eyes scares my child.
i hate this gay ass word i wish it was dead omg i wish it would just jump off the page and die omg i wish it would and then i would be so happy that it was dead that i would run around in circles for hours and then i would die and then i would be very sad.
my wings floated through the spring time air and i flew far above the city in a gust of hot air. as i started to look below, i noticed feathers falling off of my wings. little did i know that i hadn’t feathered my wings so!
Birds have feathers. Feather come in all colors, and they are soft.
Are the wings of birds like wisps of hair on a beautiful girl.
the feathered beauty caressed the sides of the fats mans lumps and bumps.
we brush past each other
like strangers on a crowded subway
like the feathered whisper
of a wing.
(do you remember me?)
we smile awkwardly, painfully
and move on.
(i remember you.)
Feathered … reminds me of my down comforter and a really bad haircut from the 90s. Such a simple word that reminds me of two completely different things. Down comforter solicits happy feelings of comfort and warmth. Even security. But the haircut … oh, that haircut. Word of advice, don’t try to feather your hair. Ever. Especially if you have fine hair to begin with. But man, I love that down comforter! Speaking of which, I think it’s time for bed.
moonlight oh god don’t you see the crows. one murder. another flying in. im floored by the masses oh spectacular!! feed them throw the crumbs. frenzy. frenzy. how wonderful it must be to come back.
his hair was feathered back in a mullet like fashion except this feathered hair went over his ears like a gust of wind in a children’s book. the mark hammill poster on his wall shone brightly.
birds are feathered, but so was the hair in the 80s, at least the bangs were. So is the hair from the old couple on the amazing race. boas are feathered and it alwyas seems to add a little pizazz to a situation. Feathered things are soft and pretty, usually.
Feathered….angel wings are feathered.
Fairy wings are feathered.
you needs feathers for your wings to fly, don’t you think? White feathers are the best….like light…they will take your HIGHER!
flying feathered friends
bid adiue
to you
its time to go
they said
its time to fly
so bye
finely flying forward
they dont tend to
look back
its time to go
they said
its time to fly
so bye
Do you wear your feelings or do you just wear your clothes?
I wear my feelings…they are quite obvious what feelings I am wearing at any given moment if they are feelings of depth. If it is pain…maybe not so much as I do the Scorpio thing and go into the distance…secret keeping mode.
Flying is not their strong suit. In fact, they can barely perch themselves atop the six foot fence without extreme effort, but when they do, their pride is profound. That is, until they find themselves stuck, unable to leap down, afraid, longing for their coop, needing to lay the day’s egg.
He walked down the street with a red feather connected to his purple hat. His matching purple suit with yellow highlights caught the eyes of everybody in eye-sight. He walked down with pride and enjoyment.
He simply loves getting people to freak out over nothing. And here, with this outfit, is doing just that. Giving people something to talk about.
I loved to wear her feathered dress to make me feel glamurous like a holywood star from the 30’s.
Feathered makes me think of bangs. and feathers. in fact, I really disliked feathered hair. reminds me of the eighties, and as much as people like the eighties these days, I hate them. They were sleazy and cheasy. nobody knew how to dress, and all the colors clashed. very very obnoxious.
feathered is the feeling that hits you when you know that staring into this bright light and turning blind. But not from the intenseity of the bulb, but from the white beauty that is held within this glass case and is just dying to be set free, just stare all you want.
The feathered white object cleaned itself, poking its beak at each nook and cranny.
The woman beat the feathered pillow.
The feathered object was more strange than anything he’d ever seen.
She feathered the art with such amorousness.
Pillows. A soft, cushioned door into another world. One of peace and tranquillity, monsters and nightmares or whatever else you so wish.
josh. life screws you over. how ca nlove disappear in such a little amount of time. i hate it. i hate him. to some degree. how could he. how could he hurt me. i thought it would never happen. but it did and i want to scream! fuck him. im going to do what i want. i don’t care about after effects anymore.
feathered hair like in the eighties. it almost looks like it’s fried, or should be. i want to dance with somebody! yeah, that’s what it reminds me of, even though she didn’t have feathered hair. feathered hair makes me want to dance. feathered dresses make me want to fly. birds in my hair… that’s not fair
I don’t know what means, but I thing it’s the quality of something who have feathers, like chickens. Chickens don’t fly, even though it has feathers. So there’s no logical sentence between having fathers and flying.
He was tarred and feathered. Every single part of his skin was in his own version of hell. He let out a scream but nothing came out. He was like a chicken of death, a cruel mockery of the grim reaper. He was death. There was nothing anyone else could do. THis was his fate.
i think of a feathered pillows and comforter. i feel us wrapped up together as i wake up next to you in the whiteness of the space. floating on a cloud, lighter than air, loving you. I miss that comforter.
pillows have feathers and so do birds.
one day some birds flew past my house in a V formation, i really wish i knew where they were going but i know that when they come back next year. they will have been somewhere. i wish i could fly, and go with them, on their journey to another place. just to feel for one day like i can do whatever i believe i can
I have a memory of pillows at my grandmother’s that supposedly had feathers in them. I always thought about sleeping on geese. It was weird. I don’t remember feeling the ends of the feathers but supposedly it was made of real feathers.
I think that i want to be a in a soft safe warm bed. One of feathers that you can just float away in your dreams. It would be a great dream one of rainbows and clouds and pefect.
feathered serpents divinate my fatality.
if only i were well versed enough to believe it
one way or the other, I suppose I’ll find my truth
in the ever approaching future
i will find myself in the present.
whenever this peacock color array displays itself
i find it difficult to show others what i see.
it’s impossible to show my mind
the feathered manifold was beautiful, consisting of elaborate and beautiful colored feathers. what the fuck is a manifold? id really like to know, and i am starting to wonder if feathers even go into it? now im curious, im going to check that shit out…
I thought there was more than one way to progress. You have your ups and downs. The sideways, the frontways, the middleways. There’s also the middle ages and the dark ages too. Everything’s in there. Just a big simmering pot of magic boiling over to move the human race forward. That’s what it is, isn’t it? The flight of the human spirit towards something greater? Something free? This progress… or does it chain us further?
on that happy day, while i was strolling though the grass, i came across that beautifully feathered bird.
it was dead.
It may have been because I didn’t know you very well, or maybe I am a petty person. Either way I wish I would have been nicer to you. But seriously, that feathered hair of yours was too much not to laugh at. But if I knew you were so sad, I like to think I would have laughed a little quieter.
i already had this word. is this the only word? but anyway i talked about drivers ed. cause that was the first time i heard the word ‘feathered’ and i had another lesson with mr. dente yesterday. it was in the rain and no one was observing me so i wasn’t embarassed when i messed up the three-point turn. mr. dente’s so nice.
i feathered on the brake in drivers ed and mr dente said i was doing a good job. i was really nervous cause it was my first driving hour with him and aaron hunt was observing. but i got less nervous about how i drove when aaron started driving because he almost killed us a few times. he can be really awkward. he talks like he’s extremely uncomfortable being talked to. i felt bad.