Twelve inches of iron thrust from the back of the howling viking, spattering red and gory onto her face as she lay there, waiting for the inevitable end. Then the bearded ravager fell, still mewling and twitching feebly. His own blade lay a few inches beyond numbly grasping fingers, useless in the end.
He pushed against it with all his might, but to no avail. It’s cold surface stood rigid as if to mock him. Standing back, he put rubbed his chin as he stared at the obelisk’s brushed looking surface. In the distance the first rays of sunlight crept across the land and bounded off the structure into his eyes. He suddenly found his hand reaching up towards it, and with a mind empty of thoughts he softly touched it and it began to ripple.
“Ouch,” I said, the hot iron grazing my arm. I dropped the blue dress I was ironing to examine the burn. A red swelter had worked its way across my skin. I guess I would wear long gloves tonight.
i once had an iron dog. his name was sally. he didnt do much, but he was pretty cool. there were no other dogs like him. one day, on a walk through the park, sally brought me a frisbee, and i threw it for him to catch. he didnt like jumping up high though, so he began to cry. his tears were like hotsauce
She fell down, again.
Fuck.
She couldn’t run around central park without falling on her face. This time it has the lip, she was bleeding, the cold iron flavour filled her mouth. She ran as fast as she could to the garbage can.
What’s in the blood. What I smell everytime when someone’s hurt. What my hands smell off when I touch the rods in a local bus. The millions of hands that have touched the same rod.
The shirt was wrinkled and not cooperating with me at all. I waited for the iron to get hot as I smooth the sleeves down the board. The laughter of children can be heard coming through the open screen door. Steam rising and hissing that comes and goes can be seen and heard from the iron. It’s ready.
strong, resilient,hard, menacing at times but solid and resourceful too. Rule with an iron fist, beware of the iron-hearted. A metal unlike any other, may we all have iron in our veins for support.
Iron is one of the most abundant minerals in the earth’s crust, if not only the most abundant. It is also known as ferrum. Its symbol is fe. Iron is a very important part of our daily lives. It is used everywhere. Be it tables, chairs or even the food we eat.
Mustles as strong as iron, eyes as tense as steel. Bones just like ceramic, they break but can be healed. Every movement is tense, but still just like them all. It helps keep you up, even if you have fallen. There’s a smile in your eyes, and they’re moving back and forth. But still, you smile, at the thoughts you love the most.
The gates that held what should have been her final resting place were iron. They were worn from the many years they spent in the Sun. Beyond the gates lay the Brookstone cemetery. Her parents, siblings, children and husband lay there. They died much too early. But she still lived. She had no reasoon to live. Why wasn’t she dead?
When I see the word iron, i think of the Industrial Revolution. I’m not really sure why. Probably just because it’s very sturdy and tangible. Then I think about the white moths, whose population dramatically decreased after the Industrial Revolution because soot covered all the trees. The black moths came in and kicked their butts.
I need to buy an iron for myself I always have to look nice for school and I always have something that needs to be iron…well that it… oh look times up =)
I used to be such a good girl you know, until it happened that I was so good my fiancee ran away because I wasn’t what he bargained for. The fool. We picked him out from a profile of good boys with squeaky clean reputation. My mother even said it, he might have been too good for me. I wonder how those words taste on her tongue now, that sweet irony.
“You need more iron in my diet,” Mrs. Rustmonster said to her baby. “Here, eat this old DeSoto.” She dropped the car on the plate in front of him. Little Timmy Rustmonster pushed his plate away. “I don’t like DeSotos. They’re yucky! I hate you!” Then he got up from the table and ran out of the house, and into the woods. After a couple of days, lost, hungry and disoriented, he emerged to nibble at the bottom corner of my storm door and the dented front fender of my Corolla. The little jerk.
My spirit, iron.
Your heart, iron.
My words, iron – melted.
Your ideas, iron – frozen.
Your touch, iron – cold.
Your touch, iron – hot.
Your power, iron – core
of the earth.
I feared the iron in his blood. It gave him the power to hit, the power to stare, the power to release vile words that were more vicious than any poison I could ever swallow. That is why I feared. That is why I fear.
Iron kind of reminds me of the industrial revolution. Like when all the soot covered the trees and then the white moths died and the black moths’ population increased a TON. So yeah. But I also think of Iron Man.
“As iron sharpens iron.” In the past, that might have been a well-known phrase; Biblical phrases aren’t that well-known anymore, though. It’s true, you know. We do sharpen each other–or dull each other. It comes down to this: choose your friends wisely. You become like those who you associate with. Date someone who you want to be like, not someone you intend to change – that rarely happens. Spend time with people who are what you wish to become – people who will sharpen you.
Whenever I iron my nice clothes to keep the wrinkles out of them, the activity of ironing tends to make my thoughts wander. This distracts me from the task of ironing and I sometimes forget the key part of ironing: moving the iron around on the shirt. In the process, I burn my nice shirts with iron-shaped marks. This is generally why I don’t buy nice things.
Blood tastes like iron, I hate blood in my mouth. I keep biting my cheek, I think I need to wear my retainers. Iron is strong and very secure. I think I like it. But not blood of course.
I never learned how to iron. My mom won’t even let me have an iron in my dorm room. Apparently I’m not old enough…I’ll probably end up burning the dorm down. So I have to result to using this cheap spray that “dewrinkles” clothes. Right, mom. That shit doesn’t work.
I hate ironing. There’s never a point to it. Ironically, none of my clothes need ironing. Except my school clothes. Will they measure me in gold or coal. I’ll never know…
Iron is hard. It can be used for many things. My best friend has an iron deficiency. I hate chemistry. Iron is on the periodic table. I memorized it once. That is all.
blood and strength, this is part of the industrial revolution it fueled an overhaul of mechanisms reaching small households modest people finding new ways to do every day things simpler, easier. courses through our veins and literally makes us strong or weak.
the solid silver substance that hard stuff is made of . this is pretty um interesting the iron giant the tuff stuff spelled tough wrong. the best time in my life is now i will iron a shirt in the morning actually no I won’t because I’m wearing a dress.
Every single time I touch the iron, i burn my clothes. I ruin the bottom of the iron, and get yelled at for being inconsiderate. I just want to make my clothes look neat!! It really sucks that we can’t find the iron cleaner at Wal-Mart very often. Especially since it works so well on our iron.
an iron is something i don’t own. it smooths imperfections and is extremely hot. although I don’t own an iron, I do own a straightening iron! i can use it to straighten my hair, which is naturally wavy. with long hair, it takes a little while longer to get my entire head straightened. an iron can also include waffle irons! they make waffles, obviously. now that i think about it, irons are everywhere, but the specific type of iron i automatically thought about was a clothes iron. this is the worst thing I have ever written, hahaha.
we are those of the metal hearts, the iron souls.
hurt us we do not cry, love us we cannot love you back.
some think it a pitiful existence, but we know that emotions merely bring weakness.
and weakness leads to oblivion.
Twelve inches of iron thrust from the back of the howling viking, spattering red and gory onto her face as she lay there, waiting for the inevitable end. Then the bearded ravager fell, still mewling and twitching feebly. His own blade lay a few inches beyond numbly grasping fingers, useless in the end.
He pushed against it with all his might, but to no avail. It’s cold surface stood rigid as if to mock him. Standing back, he put rubbed his chin as he stared at the obelisk’s brushed looking surface. In the distance the first rays of sunlight crept across the land and bounded off the structure into his eyes. He suddenly found his hand reaching up towards it, and with a mind empty of thoughts he softly touched it and it began to ripple.
the modus operandi of those with foul mouths and torched souls and broken hearts and melancholy ruminatory moods. we are here. we are.
“Ouch,” I said, the hot iron grazing my arm. I dropped the blue dress I was ironing to examine the burn. A red swelter had worked its way across my skin. I guess I would wear long gloves tonight.
With iron fists he knocked the evil man off his feet.
i once had an iron dog. his name was sally. he didnt do much, but he was pretty cool. there were no other dogs like him. one day, on a walk through the park, sally brought me a frisbee, and i threw it for him to catch. he didnt like jumping up high though, so he began to cry. his tears were like hotsauce
She fell down, again.
Fuck.
She couldn’t run around central park without falling on her face. This time it has the lip, she was bleeding, the cold iron flavour filled her mouth. She ran as fast as she could to the garbage can.
“What? What did you say? I can’t hear you over the water running.” Caitlin shut the water off so that she could hear Jonathon better.
“Did you iron yesterday? I cannot find my shirts.” Jonathon said as he wandered into the kitchen.
“Yes, I ironed yesterday. Your shirts are hanging right over there – I just haven’t had the time to get them put away yet.”
“Thanks, Sweetie!” Jonathon kissed Caitlin on the forehead as he walked over to pick up his shirts.
Another day!
What’s in the blood. What I smell everytime when someone’s hurt. What my hands smell off when I touch the rods in a local bus. The millions of hands that have touched the same rod.
The shirt was wrinkled and not cooperating with me at all. I waited for the iron to get hot as I smooth the sleeves down the board. The laughter of children can be heard coming through the open screen door. Steam rising and hissing that comes and goes can be seen and heard from the iron. It’s ready.
strong, resilient,hard, menacing at times but solid and resourceful too. Rule with an iron fist, beware of the iron-hearted. A metal unlike any other, may we all have iron in our veins for support.
Iron is one of the most abundant minerals in the earth’s crust, if not only the most abundant. It is also known as ferrum. Its symbol is fe. Iron is a very important part of our daily lives. It is used everywhere. Be it tables, chairs or even the food we eat.
She put it down flat, ignoring the loud hiss of steam and the smell of scorching.
In the hard, unfeeling silence, he stands under the mountain, waiting for the miner to release him from his prison.
Iron will. Iron mineral. Good for the body both. And how will I use this iron? For good. Bridges and not swords.
Iron is not ironic, it is in fact ferrous. Ironing is sometimes ironic, but usually perfectly straight.
Mustles as strong as iron, eyes as tense as steel. Bones just like ceramic, they break but can be healed. Every movement is tense, but still just like them all. It helps keep you up, even if you have fallen. There’s a smile in your eyes, and they’re moving back and forth. But still, you smile, at the thoughts you love the most.
The gates that held what should have been her final resting place were iron. They were worn from the many years they spent in the Sun. Beyond the gates lay the Brookstone cemetery. Her parents, siblings, children and husband lay there. They died much too early. But she still lived. She had no reasoon to live. Why wasn’t she dead?
like fire
like hell
like cold
steel
swords
How can anyone live like this.
Iron
Hell.
Steel
Cold.
Like death
When I see the word iron, i think of the Industrial Revolution. I’m not really sure why. Probably just because it’s very sturdy and tangible. Then I think about the white moths, whose population dramatically decreased after the Industrial Revolution because soot covered all the trees. The black moths came in and kicked their butts.
I need to buy an iron for myself I always have to look nice for school and I always have something that needs to be iron…well that it… oh look times up =)
I used to be such a good girl you know, until it happened that I was so good my fiancee ran away because I wasn’t what he bargained for. The fool. We picked him out from a profile of good boys with squeaky clean reputation. My mother even said it, he might have been too good for me. I wonder how those words taste on her tongue now, that sweet irony.
“You need more iron in my diet,” Mrs. Rustmonster said to her baby. “Here, eat this old DeSoto.” She dropped the car on the plate in front of him. Little Timmy Rustmonster pushed his plate away. “I don’t like DeSotos. They’re yucky! I hate you!” Then he got up from the table and ran out of the house, and into the woods. After a couple of days, lost, hungry and disoriented, he emerged to nibble at the bottom corner of my storm door and the dented front fender of my Corolla. The little jerk.
My spirit, iron.
Your heart, iron.
My words, iron – melted.
Your ideas, iron – frozen.
Your touch, iron – cold.
Your touch, iron – hot.
Your power, iron – core
of the earth.
I feared the iron in his blood. It gave him the power to hit, the power to stare, the power to release vile words that were more vicious than any poison I could ever swallow. That is why I feared. That is why I fear.
I need to buy an iron for myself I always have to look nice for school and I always need to ir
Heavy and dark and guarding the windows and the yard but also making my clothes neat and tidy and also fixing my hair and curling it or straight.
Iron kind of reminds me of the industrial revolution. Like when all the soot covered the trees and then the white moths died and the black moths’ population increased a TON. So yeah. But I also think of Iron Man.
“As iron sharpens iron.” In the past, that might have been a well-known phrase; Biblical phrases aren’t that well-known anymore, though. It’s true, you know. We do sharpen each other–or dull each other. It comes down to this: choose your friends wisely. You become like those who you associate with. Date someone who you want to be like, not someone you intend to change – that rarely happens. Spend time with people who are what you wish to become – people who will sharpen you.
Whenever I iron my nice clothes to keep the wrinkles out of them, the activity of ironing tends to make my thoughts wander. This distracts me from the task of ironing and I sometimes forget the key part of ironing: moving the iron around on the shirt. In the process, I burn my nice shirts with iron-shaped marks. This is generally why I don’t buy nice things.
Blood tastes like iron, I hate blood in my mouth. I keep biting my cheek, I think I need to wear my retainers. Iron is strong and very secure. I think I like it. But not blood of course.
I never learned how to iron. My mom won’t even let me have an iron in my dorm room. Apparently I’m not old enough…I’ll probably end up burning the dorm down. So I have to result to using this cheap spray that “dewrinkles” clothes. Right, mom. That shit doesn’t work.
I hate ironing. There’s never a point to it. Ironically, none of my clothes need ironing. Except my school clothes. Will they measure me in gold or coal. I’ll never know…
iron.
strong.
until it rusts…
touch it – it stains.
step on it – tetanus.
a decaying remnant of what once was: strength.
iron.
nor i.
Iron is hard. It can be used for many things. My best friend has an iron deficiency. I hate chemistry. Iron is on the periodic table. I memorized it once. That is all.
blood and strength, this is part of the industrial revolution it fueled an overhaul of mechanisms reaching small households modest people finding new ways to do every day things simpler, easier. courses through our veins and literally makes us strong or weak.
the solid silver substance that hard stuff is made of . this is pretty um interesting the iron giant the tuff stuff spelled tough wrong. the best time in my life is now i will iron a shirt in the morning actually no I won’t because I’m wearing a dress.
Every single time I touch the iron, i burn my clothes. I ruin the bottom of the iron, and get yelled at for being inconsiderate. I just want to make my clothes look neat!! It really sucks that we can’t find the iron cleaner at Wal-Mart very often. Especially since it works so well on our iron.
an iron is something i don’t own. it smooths imperfections and is extremely hot. although I don’t own an iron, I do own a straightening iron! i can use it to straighten my hair, which is naturally wavy. with long hair, it takes a little while longer to get my entire head straightened. an iron can also include waffle irons! they make waffles, obviously. now that i think about it, irons are everywhere, but the specific type of iron i automatically thought about was a clothes iron. this is the worst thing I have ever written, hahaha.
we are those of the metal hearts, the iron souls.
hurt us we do not cry, love us we cannot love you back.
some think it a pitiful existence, but we know that emotions merely bring weakness.
and weakness leads to oblivion.