the meter seemed so far to travel. it was like a bad dream where your muscles burn from exertion but you only find you can’t go fast enough. the hands on a clock moving so slowly. and i cant do it anymore.
400 of them made my life hell but worth living all at the same time. one hundred of them made me feel slow. two hundred of them i was mediocre. One of them and i don’t know how many inches that is. I don’t know how many feet or yards or anything. Why don’t we use meters?
it was so far, my legs streched and pushed hard against the concrete below. pounding against the solid ground, the cold air and my heaving chest. i pushed though, so close i could almost feel it. the reward, not the burning in my legs.
The ivory fur swished as the wolf leaped over the rotten log. Gray socked paws beat the earth as she ran meter after meter. She was running from something, her pink tongue lolling out of her mouth as those silver eyes flashed to the moon. The wolf ducked the low branch and slowed to a stop, breathing heavy. Eyes flicked about and she trotted the last meter to the middle of the dark forest. The moon shone down and the wolf stopped running.
meter. thats a good word. i could have used and anger o meter at dinner tonight. for some reason he never fails to piss me off. oh well, at least my mom understands
i’m not sure. is a meter the measurement of distance? or a emasure of sound? this is really difficult to do? to write for sixty seconds, a meter of time, without stopping. hopefully this will help me to become a better writer. to put words on the page instead of looking blankly at a blank page. meter meter pumpkin eater where does your length go? far and wide or deep inside this i’ll never know!
running faster than my money to pay the cab so I directed the driver to pull over and paid him. How was I going to eat lunch? I knew I would be famished after finishing the walk to the appointment.
Length. Rhyme and poems. Peter. Paul and Mary. Pumpkin eater. Meter maids. They give you tickets you don’t deserve. And aren’t always women anyway. Giving a metered response is usually not so cool. Better to be emotional.
Ah what if one falls on the earth. I still don’t understand why we haven’t switched to the metric system. Or maybe everyone else should switch to our system. you know I don’t…
Jamie ran until she reached a cliff. It was about a three meter fall, no big deal. She launched herself off the overhand and ran for her life. She didn’t think the old man or his dogs would risk the jump, but the man’s bullets could certainly reach her now that she was in open space, and he was standing still.
Jamie ducked back into the forest and waited, hoping that the vicious dogs didn’t have the guts to make the jump.
She heard the baying then, right in front of her hiding spot, and Jamie knew that she was caught.
I used to not know anything about meters. I actually learned more about it as I started working with third graders. I’m glad I can help and that they have helped me.
meter is to great her and if i was to see her i think i would want to be her .
you think that by the time i reach this meter i would have to leave her.
a meter is a unit of measurement, much like the inch or the foot. Except for not really anything like them, because it is actually part of the metric system instead of the inch and foot which are part of the stupid US system. The US should really just switch to the metric system.
unsure what to write. the meter; a few hours ago it was the distance between me and her. the meter, the distance, the longing, the loss. the meter is what it means to be away from her.
i hate when you have to feed the meter. you park and it’s like….wait, how long will we be at this restaurant? will three quarters be enough? oh wait, let me dig through my whole purse, pockets and floor of my car to find change for this thing. next time i’m going to feed someone else’s meter. save them the mental anxiety i always face when that little clock starts ticking downward.
a sign of measurement.
Bigger than a foot.
Smaller than a mile.
Shakespeare used it and so did other poets.
Shakespeare’s kind was “Iambic Pentameter.”
The reason they use it is for accurate measurement.
slow rhythm makes my move with sober hopes of lust and companionship as lyrics and drums move the room and she saunters and floats with a glowing sensuality and I think to myself, God I love being alive. I want her I want her I want her
Meter and rhyme mean nothing if the words are right, but everything if you’re relying only on their structure to support an idea that doesn’t hold up on its own.
I pay the meter..it keeps my car guarded from ticket givers. From the carnivourous policemen who seek to plague drivers like myself who leave ourcar unprotected. The meter is my shield. as long as it is fed i am protected. I shove 2 or 3 coins into its bowels.
it ticked and tocked and ticked and tocked. the meter kept time and paced me out so i wouldnt skip ahead in those god awful memories. the car kept going when i screamed for it to stop. but it kept going and the meter kept rolling. rolling over and under and over and onto itself until it hit 100 and stopped. stopped and no longer ticked or tocked.
Slightly longer than a yard. It is the rhythm of a poem, like the bounce of a song. Lovely Rita was a maid of meter – a parking meter. Add an o and its a meteor.
She took one look at the red Mustang and smiled. This will be a sweet one she thought. A rich asshole, a piece of white paper, and a face matching the redness of the car.
And the meter was running, faster and faster. It ticked away and she saw it counting down. A tear ran down her face with each mark that was left behind to the dust, that was gone and forgotten as the hands ticked further. The clock reached twelve, and as she gasped, she fell. With the clock dying, the last few seconds melted away, and with it, her life.
i pulled up at a parking meter where i saw there was some time left. right at the exact moment i got out of my car i saw a young child run out into the middle of the street. my heart stopped when i saw the car coming but the driver swerved just in time. the child ran back to his mother screaming and crying.
The metermaid stepped out of the rain into the small cafe. She promptley decided to quit tommorrow. She would not continue to live by the mailmen’s rules.
I rode a meter on a bus. On the bus I saw several school children walking. One of the children bit another child on the arm. The bitten child screamed (although silent from the bus) and slapped the first child.
Meters are one hundred centimeters, a 2.54 centimeters are approximately equal to one inch,
Meters belong to the metric system, a meauring system made by a frenchmen, the metric system is made to be easier by having recurring intervals of ten
it’s pretty interesting, that the word that appeared is a unit of measurement that i should be using with the physics homework im supposed to be doing right now. Instead, I stumbled onto this website. I wish the U.S. could just use the metric system, it’s really annoying to have to keep converting.
The meter goes up in the heat of the day. But then next day it goes down. Global warming? i don’t believe so. There’s no way that it can go from cold to hot to cold during “global warming”! =]
with the distance between us only so long, i feel as though we have never been further apart. The time passes and days like minutes like years like hours like seconds. I’m no more of a man if i choose not to awknoledge this. we have so much more to give.
the length of her hair as it flowed down her back and flew on the breeze of the wind. She never saw him watching, but he was there. Everyday,everywhere. He was always there for her incase she needed him.
Oh there goes the ding on the meter again. Why is it that this mesaurement crops up? What is its significance? Is it telling me how long I have to travel, how far I have come? I will walk this meter. And spell it the proper British way – metre!
the meter seemed so far to travel. it was like a bad dream where your muscles burn from exertion but you only find you can’t go fast enough. the hands on a clock moving so slowly. and i cant do it anymore.
The alternative energy option that I became the most interested in while debating this past year. Net metering, thank you for all the wins.
400 of them made my life hell but worth living all at the same time. one hundred of them made me feel slow. two hundred of them i was mediocre. One of them and i don’t know how many inches that is. I don’t know how many feet or yards or anything. Why don’t we use meters?
we were only one meter apart. The choice was to meet her or part. I said “Hello”, and she smiled back.
meter is something that tells a cop when u over speed.
The meter of the poem is quick. It’s a quick meter, because I can’t stand writing long poems. It just takes way too long to finish.
it was so far, my legs streched and pushed hard against the concrete below. pounding against the solid ground, the cold air and my heaving chest. i pushed though, so close i could almost feel it. the reward, not the burning in my legs.
The ivory fur swished as the wolf leaped over the rotten log. Gray socked paws beat the earth as she ran meter after meter. She was running from something, her pink tongue lolling out of her mouth as those silver eyes flashed to the moon. The wolf ducked the low branch and slowed to a stop, breathing heavy. Eyes flicked about and she trotted the last meter to the middle of the dark forest. The moon shone down and the wolf stopped running.
Briefly.
meter. thats a good word. i could have used and anger o meter at dinner tonight. for some reason he never fails to piss me off. oh well, at least my mom understands
i’m not sure. is a meter the measurement of distance? or a emasure of sound? this is really difficult to do? to write for sixty seconds, a meter of time, without stopping. hopefully this will help me to become a better writer. to put words on the page instead of looking blankly at a blank page. meter meter pumpkin eater where does your length go? far and wide or deep inside this i’ll never know!
running faster than my money to pay the cab so I directed the driver to pull over and paid him. How was I going to eat lunch? I knew I would be famished after finishing the walk to the appointment.
Length. Rhyme and poems. Peter. Paul and Mary. Pumpkin eater. Meter maids. They give you tickets you don’t deserve. And aren’t always women anyway. Giving a metered response is usually not so cool. Better to be emotional.
Ah what if one falls on the earth. I still don’t understand why we haven’t switched to the metric system. Or maybe everyone else should switch to our system. you know I don’t…
Jamie ran until she reached a cliff. It was about a three meter fall, no big deal. She launched herself off the overhand and ran for her life. She didn’t think the old man or his dogs would risk the jump, but the man’s bullets could certainly reach her now that she was in open space, and he was standing still.
Jamie ducked back into the forest and waited, hoping that the vicious dogs didn’t have the guts to make the jump.
She heard the baying then, right in front of her hiding spot, and Jamie knew that she was caught.
I used to not know anything about meters. I actually learned more about it as I started working with third graders. I’m glad I can help and that they have helped me.
The meter of music
the music of the soul
the soul of man
the measure of a man’s soul
i had trouble in school
figuring out meters to centimeters
and boys to girls
then girls to girls…
meter is to great her and if i was to see her i think i would want to be her .
you think that by the time i reach this meter i would have to leave her.
a meter is a unit of measurement, much like the inch or the foot. Except for not really anything like them, because it is actually part of the metric system instead of the inch and foot which are part of the stupid US system. The US should really just switch to the metric system.
unsure what to write. the meter; a few hours ago it was the distance between me and her. the meter, the distance, the longing, the loss. the meter is what it means to be away from her.
i hate when you have to feed the meter. you park and it’s like….wait, how long will we be at this restaurant? will three quarters be enough? oh wait, let me dig through my whole purse, pockets and floor of my car to find change for this thing. next time i’m going to feed someone else’s meter. save them the mental anxiety i always face when that little clock starts ticking downward.
a sign of measurement.
Bigger than a foot.
Smaller than a mile.
Shakespeare used it and so did other poets.
Shakespeare’s kind was “Iambic Pentameter.”
The reason they use it is for accurate measurement.
slow rhythm makes my move with sober hopes of lust and companionship as lyrics and drums move the room and she saunters and floats with a glowing sensuality and I think to myself, God I love being alive. I want her I want her I want her
Meter and rhyme mean nothing if the words are right, but everything if you’re relying only on their structure to support an idea that doesn’t hold up on its own.
I pay the meter..it keeps my car guarded from ticket givers. From the carnivourous policemen who seek to plague drivers like myself who leave ourcar unprotected. The meter is my shield. as long as it is fed i am protected. I shove 2 or 3 coins into its bowels.
it ticked and tocked and ticked and tocked. the meter kept time and paced me out so i wouldnt skip ahead in those god awful memories. the car kept going when i screamed for it to stop. but it kept going and the meter kept rolling. rolling over and under and over and onto itself until it hit 100 and stopped. stopped and no longer ticked or tocked.
try to know about islam do it by your self search and learn
try to know about islam do it by your self searchand learn
Slightly longer than a yard. It is the rhythm of a poem, like the bounce of a song. Lovely Rita was a maid of meter – a parking meter. Add an o and its a meteor.
She took one look at the red Mustang and smiled. This will be a sweet one she thought. A rich asshole, a piece of white paper, and a face matching the redness of the car.
And the meter was running, faster and faster. It ticked away and she saw it counting down. A tear ran down her face with each mark that was left behind to the dust, that was gone and forgotten as the hands ticked further. The clock reached twelve, and as she gasped, she fell. With the clock dying, the last few seconds melted away, and with it, her life.
i pulled up at a parking meter where i saw there was some time left. right at the exact moment i got out of my car i saw a young child run out into the middle of the street. my heart stopped when i saw the car coming but the driver swerved just in time. the child ran back to his mother screaming and crying.
The metermaid stepped out of the rain into the small cafe. She promptley decided to quit tommorrow. She would not continue to live by the mailmen’s rules.
I rode a meter on a bus. On the bus I saw several school children walking. One of the children bit another child on the arm. The bitten child screamed (although silent from the bus) and slapped the first child.
Meters are one hundred centimeters, a 2.54 centimeters are approximately equal to one inch,
Meters belong to the metric system, a meauring system made by a frenchmen, the metric system is made to be easier by having recurring intervals of ten
length measurement height parking ruler stick running
it’s pretty interesting, that the word that appeared is a unit of measurement that i should be using with the physics homework im supposed to be doing right now. Instead, I stumbled onto this website. I wish the U.S. could just use the metric system, it’s really annoying to have to keep converting.
The meter goes up in the heat of the day. But then next day it goes down. Global warming? i don’t believe so. There’s no way that it can go from cold to hot to cold during “global warming”! =]
with the distance between us only so long, i feel as though we have never been further apart. The time passes and days like minutes like years like hours like seconds. I’m no more of a man if i choose not to awknoledge this. we have so much more to give.
the length of her hair as it flowed down her back and flew on the breeze of the wind. She never saw him watching, but he was there. Everyday,everywhere. He was always there for her incase she needed him.
Oh there goes the ding on the meter again. Why is it that this mesaurement crops up? What is its significance? Is it telling me how long I have to travel, how far I have come? I will walk this meter. And spell it the proper British way – metre!