The rolling vibrations of the gong sounded once more, washing over the dawn skies like a wave of seawater. Once more, twice more.
And then all was silence once more.
el gong es aquel instrumento fatal para anunciar que las cosas van a ir de peor a mejor o viceversa, porque con ese sonido contundente no se sabe que puede pasar y donde puede llegar a terminar uno, aunque por otro lado esa brillantez lo hace único y agradable a la vista.
Gong the Eviscerator looked upon the destruction he had inflicted on this land. Everywhere he looked was ragged landscape and jagged edges. People, or what might have been people, jutted out at painful angles.
Yes, his watercolour was all wrong. One day, he resolved, he would learn to paint landscapes.
The gong rang a slow and steady vibration throughout the hallway. And Reginald knew that his beloved was gone forever. Down the drain. Down the pipe. Down the tube.
Tubes that have a slow and steady ring as bodies clang down their shafts.
I hit the gong with a big brass band, tightening round my skull because I don’t have very much time- in fact, I’m out, and I haven’t a chance to say the goodbyes I want. So now I’ll hug her and wish that the shortening green bar would change from red to blue, blue to purple.
ITs the sound you make when you want to get it on…hence, bang a gong, get on. Right? I don’t know what else to say about it. Must emit some sort of pheromones. I wish I had a whistle like that. That might be nice. Ha!
Gong! Where are you?
I have been seeking you for a life time now!
And only to be told by others..
Oh shut up!
But no worries..
I will look for you
Till eternity
Because there is no one like you
Oh My Dear Dear Gong!
Every morning she woke up to the sound and everyday it reminded her that she was trapped in the “dynasty” she should be happy but she wasnt she just wanted to be anywhere else to be out. she wanted freedom.choice
The gong sounds. A penetrating sound that pierces my ears. It signals the end, or is it the beginning? I drop what I am doing and move toward the sound of the gong. I still know not what is going on but the sound makes me eager to know.
gong goes the fast and torrid bells that cry over the sky like those crazy birrds that go all over your head when your in thecpark eaton on a yummy tastic pretzel sold by the guy in the crazy blue hat that holds with pride his velvet clad monkey friend the one with the cymbols like the bells in thebeggining of the vision
I can feel the sound pulsing through me. For that one instant, time is limitless. It could never be contained. And then, silence. It rips through my ears in a way a sound never could.
As the referee struck the gong, the crowd went silent. Both fighters stepped into the circle, but before anyone had time to blink, it was already over. The fighter in blue lay slightly outside the ring, defeated.
gadabout town,
Barris in his
will to live
wonders if this
one deserves the full
throttle,
or if titillation
has its bounds:
the company does him
favors,
while sucking the juice
out of his joie de vivre,
mr mucketymuck valentino,
mucking out the stalls
with Hercule,
amortizing the fleabag futures,
animating the frivolous climes.
A gong is a round metal object that one hits for many reasons. A reason could be that there is someone important coming, or perhaps dinner is served. Once dinner is served the gong is rendered useless and should be removed from the room so all can enjoy the gong without it being a obstacle for others to deal with.
Gong is the sound that means your job is done, gong is the sound that means you’ve been stopped. The end of a task, and possibly the beginning of a new one. Gong is not a sound of success, however, but a sound of failure, a sound of termination, a sound of the end.
Loud noise, usually a familiar sound to all. Not attached to any certain circumstance, most figure it just an alert that something different, though not necessarily threatening, is happening. John figured it so, but turned to the noise anyway to investigate.
bang this friggin gong over my head. I messed it up, the whole thing, and there’s apparently no way to fix it. It’s definitely my fault and now I’ve got to deal with the consequences.
The gong rings out to signal the start of breakfast. Anni is always expected to be prim and presentable by the time the gong sounds.
This morning, though, she is rebelling. Her hair has only been half-brushed. Ooh. How terrible.
Of course, I’d like to go, but what about the others? Not sure where they fit in, but their presence suddlenly began to give me hesitation. Would they be fed and taken care of in my absence?
will Gong Li appear in Grand Master?
will Gong Li appear in Grand Master?
I hear it. A faint ring calling out to me, reaching for my memory. A clarion gong reverberating through my soul. An eternal,reminder of you.
not going. this fraud tricked me into believing a lie.
flashes of china and broken walls run through my mind.
what an escape. an escapade.
changing perspectives in the world today.
the gong sounds at dawn
the children awaken dazed
a disaster is there
bleeding over the town
under cover of clouds
they don’t know the sound
disoriented
they stumble out of bed
their parents are gone
as they have been for years
the town is buried in ashes
The rolling vibrations of the gong sounded once more, washing over the dawn skies like a wave of seawater. Once more, twice more.
And then all was silence once more.
gong
what is a gong?
this is not a good word to “express” myself with
gong is funny
humorous
crazy
but today i feel
different
normally i am a “gong” kind of person
i don’t know what went wrong today.
el gong es aquel instrumento fatal para anunciar que las cosas van a ir de peor a mejor o viceversa, porque con ese sonido contundente no se sabe que puede pasar y donde puede llegar a terminar uno, aunque por otro lado esa brillantez lo hace único y agradable a la vista.
Gong the Eviscerator looked upon the destruction he had inflicted on this land. Everywhere he looked was ragged landscape and jagged edges. People, or what might have been people, jutted out at painful angles.
Yes, his watercolour was all wrong. One day, he resolved, he would learn to paint landscapes.
i have no clue what a gong even is, sorry.
The gong rang a slow and steady vibration throughout the hallway. And Reginald knew that his beloved was gone forever. Down the drain. Down the pipe. Down the tube.
Tubes that have a slow and steady ring as bodies clang down their shafts.
I hit the gong with a big brass band, tightening round my skull because I don’t have very much time- in fact, I’m out, and I haven’t a chance to say the goodbyes I want. So now I’ll hug her and wish that the shortening green bar would change from red to blue, blue to purple.
ITs the sound you make when you want to get it on…hence, bang a gong, get on. Right? I don’t know what else to say about it. Must emit some sort of pheromones. I wish I had a whistle like that. That might be nice. Ha!
Gong! Where are you?
I have been seeking you for a life time now!
And only to be told by others..
Oh shut up!
But no worries..
I will look for you
Till eternity
Because there is no one like you
Oh My Dear Dear Gong!
gong. it’s a gong. gong gong gong gong gong
they spin! they ring and drone and they… they…
victims of a half-naked man with a hat swinging his cotton stick
Every morning she woke up to the sound and everyday it reminded her that she was trapped in the “dynasty” she should be happy but she wasnt she just wanted to be anywhere else to be out. she wanted freedom.choice
The gong sounds. A penetrating sound that pierces my ears. It signals the end, or is it the beginning? I drop what I am doing and move toward the sound of the gong. I still know not what is going on but the sound makes me eager to know.
gong goes the fast and torrid bells that cry over the sky like those crazy birrds that go all over your head when your in thecpark eaton on a yummy tastic pretzel sold by the guy in the crazy blue hat that holds with pride his velvet clad monkey friend the one with the cymbols like the bells in thebeggining of the vision
It’s beginning, isn’t it? That sound is your signal to start. Get going.
I can feel the sound pulsing through me. For that one instant, time is limitless. It could never be contained. And then, silence. It rips through my ears in a way a sound never could.
another country
Barry whats his name gong show used to give me the willies. There was the hook…………..literally
As the referee struck the gong, the crowd went silent. Both fighters stepped into the circle, but before anyone had time to blink, it was already over. The fighter in blue lay slightly outside the ring, defeated.
gadabout town,
Barris in his
will to live
wonders if this
one deserves the full
throttle,
or if titillation
has its bounds:
the company does him
favors,
while sucking the juice
out of his joie de vivre,
mr mucketymuck valentino,
mucking out the stalls
with Hercule,
amortizing the fleabag futures,
animating the frivolous climes.
The gong was the centerpiece of this soothing, yet somewhat peculiar setting
Gongs are so stereotypical.
Gooonnnnnnnnnggggggggggggggggggggggg.
MORTAL COMBAT!!!
Shit is so frickin epic.
…
My writing has gotten so bad.
:(
A gong is a round metal object that one hits for many reasons. A reason could be that there is someone important coming, or perhaps dinner is served. Once dinner is served the gong is rendered useless and should be removed from the room so all can enjoy the gong without it being a obstacle for others to deal with.
if you have the tongues of angels but have not love you are a resounding gong, Verse of my life
Gong is the sound that means your job is done, gong is the sound that means you’ve been stopped. The end of a task, and possibly the beginning of a new one. Gong is not a sound of success, however, but a sound of failure, a sound of termination, a sound of the end.
the chinese are waiting for my arrival….
gong, like a bell. a bell that tells you when to start and when to stop. an inanimate thing that tells you what to do and when to do it.
but, of course, there has to be someone to bang the gong. someone in control. someone who’s keeping the score.
Loud noise, usually a familiar sound to all. Not attached to any certain circumstance, most figure it just an alert that something different, though not necessarily threatening, is happening. John figured it so, but turned to the noise anyway to investigate.
bang this friggin gong over my head. I messed it up, the whole thing, and there’s apparently no way to fix it. It’s definitely my fault and now I’ve got to deal with the consequences.
Gong makes me thing of Japan. or China. Which makes me think of fashion. Which makes me think of America’s Next Top Model. Yea, gong.
I is
going
going
going
gong.
Gong now and not later. The sound of the gong is loud. It is out of place. Yet I can get use to it.
The gong rings out to signal the start of breakfast. Anni is always expected to be prim and presentable by the time the gong sounds.
This morning, though, she is rebelling. Her hair has only been half-brushed. Ooh. How terrible.
Gongggg. That’s what his friends said as they high fived him after they found out he we had sex.
My ears are ringing around his deep voice. I wish he wasn’t here.
Of course, I’d like to go, but what about the others? Not sure where they fit in, but their presence suddlenly began to give me hesitation. Would they be fed and taken care of in my absence?