Everyone has a keen sense of something. Usually a talent. Some have a keen sense of humor. Others, a keen sense of vision. But everyone has one. It’s your job to find your keen sense of something and utilize it to its full potential.
a keening howl shuddered throught the air. the frost i the air bit at his skin as he fled the beast. he could almost feel the creatures breath on the bakc of his nesk, feel the red hot slaver dripping onto him and the razor sharp teeth closing on flesh.
My senses are keen on a hot day. The woman wear little clothing and walk loosely. The dirty smells of the city streets rise with the heat to my nostrils. Same with the man walking by wearing too much colagne. I turn into a classic german shepard sniffing around. walking into walls but being grateful for what brought me to.
Keen on him was she.
Not so keen on her was he.
She and he needn’t be.
Yet keen on love were we.
Therein lies my problem, you see.
For however keen on me be she, keener on him is me.
When i was playing in the garden i felt and i broke my keen, It hurt so bad i couldn’t speak or see. My mom came with a broom on her hand because there was a goat inside the train and my house was on fire.
He was none too keen on going to the opera with me, but a little seduction and I persuaded him. As it turns out, he loved the performance and came away with a new appreciation of the arts.
there is someone standing in the back of the room, and he’s so keen. i see him standing there smoothing over his red suspenders, every so often adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as if to zoom in on my face. he’s keen. keen on me.
you likey it oh yes you do. i mean you don’t exactly love it, but i mean you feel OK, alright about it. It sounds like a word that describes food though. like a keesh(I can’t spell) oh well goodnight.
I’m not too keen on the word keen. I’m not even totally sure what it means. All I’m sure of is that from a typographical stand point it looks pretty neat, which I guess that would mean I’m keen on keen? Perhaps I should look it up.
I’m keen on get loose and be free. Nowadays it seems so difficult to be ourselves, as if we care so much of how people sees us when we are just trying to live and let live.
Today I feel weird, as if the wind just stopped blowing. My mind is completely out of my body, she tells me not to freak out but, I can’t help to feel disappointed. I’m keen on forget her and not let this build up inside of me, but at the precise moment I decide to forget her and move on, she magically reappears in my life once again, to fuck everything up, again and again. Somehow, I just can’t stop thinking about her.
The one thing I have and don’t have is keen sences. I have a keen sence of hearing and feel and taste. But I seem to be losing my sence of smell and sight.
Keen; everyone is keen on different things. Some people are keen on others; some people are keen to read, to write, to play, to act, to negotiate. Keen-ness is one of the things that defines who we are as people; keen-ness allows us to see boundaries between people that relate to their similarities and differences
So keen. So passionate. So eager. Being keen is about being faithful, enthusiastic and as energetic as a giddy little schoolgirl on a Sunday. And as devoted as a industrial-rate machine.
I try to fight, but the person’s strong arms now wrap around me. Helpless, I jerk my head back, crashing it into his nose.
He curses. I smile.
“Mia, stop fighting!”
Suddenly, I freeze. He called me Mia.
With one arm insuring that I wouldn’t run off cinched around my waist, the man leads me through a door I hadn’t seen before. Or at least, I think I haven’t seen it before.
Finally, after the door closes shut, the man turns me about and I’m staring into dark green eyes. He smiles. “You’re still a fighter, Mia.”
“Do I know you?” I ask, puzzled.
Sharply inhaling, the man backs away slightly and reaches for another light switch. The blinding light stings my eyes, but I don’t flinch. I don’t want to forget what he says.
His keen eyes turn circumspect as he hesitantly says, “You really did loose your memory.”
“Do I know you?!” I scream.
“Some would say, you knew me better than you knew yourself.” Leaning a shoulder against the concrete wall, I see that his smile is painful. “You would think you would recognize your own boyfriend. Remember me? Eric?”
you always had a keen eye for obstacles. never one to take the easy route, you decided that your specialty should be carving through impossibilities. i miss you for that. take care, you and your awfully keen eyes.
I was keen to approach the desk, but nervous about the potential repercussions. Going out last night had been a reportable move, but I did not regret it enough to admit my actions. But owning up was the only way to move forward with my problem.
I keep walking, upset that I had lost the green-eyed man.
My feet stomp down the sidewalk, splashing into puddles that soak my socks. But, I barely notice and if I notice I don’t think I will care.
As I pass by an alley, I slowly reach out to take an apple off a vendor’s cart. Out of the corner of my eye, I see he doesn’t notice. I take a bite.
Suddenly, a hand is grabbing my arm twisting it behind me. Before I can scream, a hand is wraps around my mouth. The hands pull me into the alley until we reach the end. I hear a keen voice hissing, “It’s me, Mia.”
The mother keened piteously as she knelt over the broken body of her only child. Onlookers shivered at the agonized sound, feeling sympathy for her, but never truly able to understand the pain behind her moan.
keen. what is keen? it has double e. is this name or what? in my life, i never know a people named keen. unless it Ken, its barbie boyfriend. hahaha. kidding. i have no idea, what/who is keen. sorry!!
keen. careen. canteen. she keenly gazes into his eyes, thinking nothing, except how unbelievable it is that she loves him. knowing that it could only end in disaster. knowing that someone will end up heartbroken, and it’s always her.
neat propre alla w smalla shou hayda ya 3arnous el dara walla 7abbe we23a ba3ed safar nase3 metel l shams ya medwe ya msha3sha3 alla nawwaret ya keen enta mrattab shou raye7 3al promo eh alla y2aawik
Peachy. That’s how this summer was turning out. Peachy keen, days long and warm, stretching into one another, sunrise to sunset, breakfast yogurt to bats and stars. Every day a continuation of something beautiful before.
“We need to split up.”
“What? Are you retarded?”
I wasn’t too keen on walking around this abandoned mineshaft by myself.
Absolutely not. I was not going to be the first idiot to fall and break my ankle or get raped by some disfigured fucking zombie. Fuck that.
I’m very keen not to work right now and have summervacation and watch series and procrastinate a little more. But buh, I can’t. Stupid proficiency essay. Stupid school. Stupid course I want to pass :)
i was keen on the subject of saying big things
like i knew something more
than you thought i would think
i’m just a girl
that’s an obvious fact
but i still like respect
i won’t expect less
so take your conceptions
and turn them around
because you don’t know me
and you wouldn’t understand
the complexity of a mind
that has been through it all
and yes, it remains, i’m just a young girl
but my soul might be past 1 thousand years
we’ll never know though
so just listen and hear
that i’m filled with some knowledge you can’t even grasp
i’ll fill you with words
until you regurgitation your self
maybe when i was 12
i’d know nothing about earth
think 4 tylenol can kill you
and spending money brings worth
but you don’t need C cups to be beautiful
for without makeup and change ups
i’ve acquired more hope than you know
despite times of despair
i held on to myself
didn’t lose myself in prescriptions
or claim i need wealth
the world might seem material
i see that is true
but the only thing that matters in life
is who we connect to
I am keen on my boyfriend. I am more keen about him now that I had previously been.
I hope he is as keen on me as I am as keen on him. Keen is exciting, keen is enlightening and surprising. Long live being keen.
I’m not exactly sure if I’m keen on going to Jamaica or not… I really haven’t made up my mind. There are parts of me that can’t wait – but other parts are like what in the world are you thinking – I’m looking forward to seeing my husband excited.
keen
like the winds
of never ending
water falls
the words
fall apart
and nothing
makes sense
like it use to
i lost my keen sense of reality.
Everyone has a keen sense of something. Usually a talent. Some have a keen sense of humor. Others, a keen sense of vision. But everyone has one. It’s your job to find your keen sense of something and utilize it to its full potential.
a keening howl shuddered throught the air. the frost i the air bit at his skin as he fled the beast. he could almost feel the creatures breath on the bakc of his nesk, feel the red hot slaver dripping onto him and the razor sharp teeth closing on flesh.
My senses are keen on a hot day. The woman wear little clothing and walk loosely. The dirty smells of the city streets rise with the heat to my nostrils. Same with the man walking by wearing too much colagne. I turn into a classic german shepard sniffing around. walking into walls but being grateful for what brought me to.
Keen on him was she.
Not so keen on her was he.
She and he needn’t be.
Yet keen on love were we.
Therein lies my problem, you see.
For however keen on me be she, keener on him is me.
When i was playing in the garden i felt and i broke my keen, It hurt so bad i couldn’t speak or see. My mom came with a broom on her hand because there was a goat inside the train and my house was on fire.
what a wonderful word “keen” is. It’s sounds rather ’50’s, but maybe a little highborw, too. I’m keen on that idea.
He was none too keen on going to the opera with me, but a little seduction and I persuaded him. As it turns out, he loved the performance and came away with a new appreciation of the arts.
there is someone standing in the back of the room, and he’s so keen. i see him standing there smoothing over his red suspenders, every so often adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as if to zoom in on my face. he’s keen. keen on me.
you likey it oh yes you do. i mean you don’t exactly love it, but i mean you feel OK, alright about it. It sounds like a word that describes food though. like a keesh(I can’t spell) oh well goodnight.
I’m not too keen on the word keen. I’m not even totally sure what it means. All I’m sure of is that from a typographical stand point it looks pretty neat, which I guess that would mean I’m keen on keen? Perhaps I should look it up.
I’m keen on get loose and be free. Nowadays it seems so difficult to be ourselves, as if we care so much of how people sees us when we are just trying to live and let live.
The Golden Retriever keened all night long.
And the neighbors found it dead the next morning.
Today I feel weird, as if the wind just stopped blowing. My mind is completely out of my body, she tells me not to freak out but, I can’t help to feel disappointed. I’m keen on forget her and not let this build up inside of me, but at the precise moment I decide to forget her and move on, she magically reappears in my life once again, to fuck everything up, again and again. Somehow, I just can’t stop thinking about her.
The one thing I have and don’t have is keen sences. I have a keen sence of hearing and feel and taste. But I seem to be losing my sence of smell and sight.
Is there anything I can claim to have a thorough and keen understanding of?
Keen; everyone is keen on different things. Some people are keen on others; some people are keen to read, to write, to play, to act, to negotiate. Keen-ness is one of the things that defines who we are as people; keen-ness allows us to see boundaries between people that relate to their similarities and differences
on always being nice, keen on doing the right thing. keen is not always enough.
So keen. So passionate. So eager. Being keen is about being faithful, enthusiastic and as energetic as a giddy little schoolgirl on a Sunday. And as devoted as a industrial-rate machine.
I try to fight, but the person’s strong arms now wrap around me. Helpless, I jerk my head back, crashing it into his nose.
He curses. I smile.
“Mia, stop fighting!”
Suddenly, I freeze. He called me Mia.
With one arm insuring that I wouldn’t run off cinched around my waist, the man leads me through a door I hadn’t seen before. Or at least, I think I haven’t seen it before.
Finally, after the door closes shut, the man turns me about and I’m staring into dark green eyes. He smiles. “You’re still a fighter, Mia.”
“Do I know you?” I ask, puzzled.
Sharply inhaling, the man backs away slightly and reaches for another light switch. The blinding light stings my eyes, but I don’t flinch. I don’t want to forget what he says.
His keen eyes turn circumspect as he hesitantly says, “You really did loose your memory.”
“Do I know you?!” I scream.
“Some would say, you knew me better than you knew yourself.” Leaning a shoulder against the concrete wall, I see that his smile is painful. “You would think you would recognize your own boyfriend. Remember me? Eric?”
you always had a keen eye for obstacles. never one to take the easy route, you decided that your specialty should be carving through impossibilities. i miss you for that. take care, you and your awfully keen eyes.
I was keen to approach the desk, but nervous about the potential repercussions. Going out last night had been a reportable move, but I did not regret it enough to admit my actions. But owning up was the only way to move forward with my problem.
I keep walking, upset that I had lost the green-eyed man.
My feet stomp down the sidewalk, splashing into puddles that soak my socks. But, I barely notice and if I notice I don’t think I will care.
As I pass by an alley, I slowly reach out to take an apple off a vendor’s cart. Out of the corner of my eye, I see he doesn’t notice. I take a bite.
Suddenly, a hand is grabbing my arm twisting it behind me. Before I can scream, a hand is wraps around my mouth. The hands pull me into the alley until we reach the end. I hear a keen voice hissing, “It’s me, Mia.”
The mother keened piteously as she knelt over the broken body of her only child. Onlookers shivered at the agonized sound, feeling sympathy for her, but never truly able to understand the pain behind her moan.
keen
sharp
sensitive
keen ear
inquisite
keen. what is keen? it has double e. is this name or what? in my life, i never know a people named keen. unless it Ken, its barbie boyfriend. hahaha. kidding. i have no idea, what/who is keen. sorry!!
keen. careen. canteen. she keenly gazes into his eyes, thinking nothing, except how unbelievable it is that she loves him. knowing that it could only end in disaster. knowing that someone will end up heartbroken, and it’s always her.
neat propre alla w smalla shou hayda ya 3arnous el dara walla 7abbe we23a ba3ed safar nase3 metel l shams ya medwe ya msha3sha3 alla nawwaret ya keen enta mrattab shou raye7 3al promo eh alla y2aawik
She has a keen sense of humor, very attentive, always aware of the context and situation, as not to ever offend anyone.
Peachy. That’s how this summer was turning out. Peachy keen, days long and warm, stretching into one another, sunrise to sunset, breakfast yogurt to bats and stars. Every day a continuation of something beautiful before.
“We need to split up.”
“What? Are you retarded?”
I wasn’t too keen on walking around this abandoned mineshaft by myself.
Absolutely not. I was not going to be the first idiot to fall and break my ankle or get raped by some disfigured fucking zombie. Fuck that.
I’m very keen not to work right now and have summervacation and watch series and procrastinate a little more. But buh, I can’t. Stupid proficiency essay. Stupid school. Stupid course I want to pass :)
i was keen on the subject of saying big things
like i knew something more
than you thought i would think
i’m just a girl
that’s an obvious fact
but i still like respect
i won’t expect less
so take your conceptions
and turn them around
because you don’t know me
and you wouldn’t understand
the complexity of a mind
that has been through it all
and yes, it remains, i’m just a young girl
but my soul might be past 1 thousand years
we’ll never know though
so just listen and hear
that i’m filled with some knowledge you can’t even grasp
i’ll fill you with words
until you regurgitation your self
maybe when i was 12
i’d know nothing about earth
think 4 tylenol can kill you
and spending money brings worth
but you don’t need C cups to be beautiful
for without makeup and change ups
i’ve acquired more hope than you know
despite times of despair
i held on to myself
didn’t lose myself in prescriptions
or claim i need wealth
the world might seem material
i see that is true
but the only thing that matters in life
is who we connect to
© L
it’s a knee for teens,
a buttercup for people of means,
a jellyfish and little swine-
for a bit of cheese and a glass of wine.
I wanted to say I was aloof, but I wasn’t. The attraction was immense and I was completely consumed by it. I was entirely besotted by him.
I am keen on my boyfriend. I am more keen about him now that I had previously been.
I hope he is as keen on me as I am as keen on him. Keen is exciting, keen is enlightening and surprising. Long live being keen.
something is keen it is neat its cool its an expression that you use when you like something it has 2 vowels the long e sound
I’m not exactly sure if I’m keen on going to Jamaica or not… I really haven’t made up my mind. There are parts of me that can’t wait – but other parts are like what in the world are you thinking – I’m looking forward to seeing my husband excited.
something smooth, small, blue or gray, its sweet , have nice facture, its romantic, practicable, its make people happy, you can see it in nature,
Hi keen sense of smell drew him past the crowd of women and he followed his nose, hoping it would lead him to