port means a place where there are one or many harbours where ships can dock.But to me the first thing that clicks in my mind is a teleport. A teleport is something like a wormhole, but instead it takes you through dimensions rather than time.
in a storm. That’s what he was. Safe, warm, always there. She had always taken him for granted, like a brother or a father to her…now she realised how much it mattered knowing he was always there, always ready with open arms, without question or judgement. How much his steady kindness counted in the craziness of life. That he was family. Real family.
A port, i remember fishing at the port with my brother once. I miss my brother and our old family trips. It was so interesting what we would find at the port. Including us trying to make jam out of jelly fish.
airport. yes, that’s where i want to be right now. away from this country. away from it’s people. away from it’s traditions and bullshit ideas. i want to fly to a place where no one knows me. a place where i don’t know anyone. anywhere but here. i thought growing up would be easy. i thought it would get easier. it’s only hard. harder by the day.
A place that ships dock. Where Sailors get off their boats and walk around with their sea legs. A place for commerce and trading. Seedy people and parrots.
port with an e at the end like this “porte” in french means door. you can say ferme la porte which means close the door or you can say ouvre la porte which means open the door. port is also a word used when you’re on a ship. it means left as in left or right. i dont konw what they use for right. port is also the root word of portal which can take you to unknown places.
When I was on the port yesterday, I loved it, I liked when all the boats came to the port and drived away from the port. It was so beautiful and when the sunset came it was magic. Beautiful.
Isabeau walked through the port, swaying her hips at the sailors that passed by. Of all of them, she picked him. He was handsome and he would make a good companion and fetch a good price when the time came to sell him. So she waved at him and she knew he would follow. Wherever he came from, he would never go back now.
The port opened. The boat stopped. The boat stopped when the port opened and the people couldn’t figure out why. It made absolutly no sense. Why would the port and the boat not communicate like two every present vessiles honed together to do the same job and accomplish the same task?
port, i would love to have a boaot, so i could have it on the port. and i could sail, and go to ibiza and party, and miconos, and just beon my bout. have someone to drive it for me. and i would have a love in every port aswell. i would be free sailing. and not worring about anuthing at all. go to all the clubs and the nautic places, near the port. with th possibility of knowing new people, always being able to sleep in a different city, cities with a port lol
we went to the port. There it was as beautiful as I saw it in my dream. There it was standing there being there without even noticing me. There was the love of my love. Thanks to the port I found the love of my life.
So I guess port is the word. I was thinking about ley lines and how they are portals in the earth’s atmosphere into the astreal plane. I am weird, I know. But I live near Sedona and there must be something to it.
The ship pulled in. A woman saw the father standing on the shore. She leaped from the bow and into the ocean. He swam to her. He helped her from the seaweed and onto land. The walked towards the town without speaking any words. Nobody saw them again.
Any port in a storm? Is that why you are here? You got kicked out, yet again? I really don’t want to hear it, Sabrina! I have let you back into my life too many times, and you leave again, as soon as your life rights itself!
there once was a port with boats filled with tacos the tacos were radioactive and if you ate them you’d get magical powers and if you don’t then I guess you’re going to die. that sucks. don’t die. get the magical powers. I ate one. I can now fly. HAH in your face.
port adelaide that is a footy team, I don’t know much about footy but it seems fun and I played it once. Port also reminds me of a dock for boats, boating is also very very very fun. I love speed boating and tubing. I wish I could boat more. Actually, I wish I had a boat because boats are awesome!
I was not expecting us to make it to port so soon. Not so quickly after my kidnapping. Honestly, I could not tell whether making it to land was a welcome surprise or not.
The questions still burned fiercely in my mind as the men came parading into the hold. Light blinding me, I couldn’t help but wonder them once more, fear surging forth anew.
Where were they taking me?
Why *had* they taken me?
What was going to happen once we got to their destination?
And most importantly…. what was going to happen to me?
The chains to my shackles clattered noisily to the ground as an ale-breathed sailor unlocked the manacles that bound me to the wall. I scarcely had the time to rejoice in having my now raw wrists freed from their bondage before the same pan roughly grabbed them and started tying them with a length of rope. Under his breath, he gave a warning not to move or try anything. It was pointless to say, really.
Where would I go even if I did try?
The sun seared over high as I stepped out from my dark confines, following the trio of sailors as they pulled me by the rope like a dog on the leash. Part of me was grateful they did, considering my eyes were so strained by the sudden shock of light, that I hardly a clue as to where I was going.
“Step down easily, Miss.” Warned an unfamiliar voice. I was too afraid and unable to look up to see who it was, “Plank’s a bit tricky coming down.”
I blinked my eyes, focusing on my feet as I trailed behind. The cluster of the ship’s crew was growing thicker as we made our way off the ship and onto the pier beside. Gulls cried as they glided in the wind. It suited that the moment I acknowledged the birds, I had felt something wet land on my head.
Amazing that I had yet to cry during that whole endeavor. Being attacked, beaten, kidnapped, and left chained to a wall in the bowels of a filth-ridden ship with nothing but hard tack and lukewarm water for sustenance wasn’t enough to make me break.
No… It had to be something silly. Like the excretion of a terrible fowl, and my inability to wipe it off as it started running down the side of my head – defiling my golden curls.
We drank port wine by the old brick fireplace until the sun was nearly up. I was with a girl, a woman that I knew I shouldn’t be with but the wine, the wine cast it’s spell on us both.
Port makes me thing about a summer in Maine. Clear blue water shining in the summer sunshine. A sailboat sailing off into the horizon. Little children call off to each other behind me as their mother corrals them together. A slight summer dress flaps in the breeze.
Isn’t a port like the window on the ship that shows you the ocean? I remember the episode of the Rugrats where they’re on a boat, and Angelica had lost Cynthia–she’d been thrown overboard–and then gets sent to her room and sees her through the porthole. I always thought it would be so cool to go on a boat and just look out into the ocean like that, seeing all the fish.
It reminded her of her childhood holidays, this photograph of the port. Toffee ice cream, giggling siblings and her parents saving all year long for the smiles upon their little faces.
Makes me think of going sailing with my family. The big boat, the wind on my face, the thrill as we would go back and forth. The sun kissing my skin and leaving it a shade of red. I love it as a memory, hate it as a childhood experaince.
I’m going to the port , not forever , but for a fun and transformative and happy period of change and growth, its different, its a new way of life, full of possibilities, I waited for the equinoctial point to pass and now the lights are green
somewhere to get. somewhere to drop off. boats, lots of boats. pirates of the carribean. TELE-port. probably should have done the capitalization backwards. port. port o potty. terrible.
the port of the sea, filled with the fish of the world. Of Valparaiso. The girl walks, absorbing all the smells and sounds, the sights of the fisherman sailing in. The nets, crossing like a dream catcher intertwining and prepared to catch, to trap, to enslave. The vendors screaming out the names of the congrio, the seabass.
ship papaya puerto san blas computación margarita toro alberto ingris java c++ input output mana barcos caminos llevar cargar usb disco duro computadora entrada salida
port means a place where there are one or many harbours where ships can dock.But to me the first thing that clicks in my mind is a teleport. A teleport is something like a wormhole, but instead it takes you through dimensions rather than time.
Ehm, I don’t know what is in my head. Maybe a “?”, Halmsad, or food, because i’m so hungry right now!
in a storm. That’s what he was. Safe, warm, always there. She had always taken him for granted, like a brother or a father to her…now she realised how much it mattered knowing he was always there, always ready with open arms, without question or judgement. How much his steady kindness counted in the craziness of life. That he was family. Real family.
A port, i remember fishing at the port with my brother once. I miss my brother and our old family trips. It was so interesting what we would find at the port. Including us trying to make jam out of jelly fish.
airport. yes, that’s where i want to be right now. away from this country. away from it’s people. away from it’s traditions and bullshit ideas. i want to fly to a place where no one knows me. a place where i don’t know anyone. anywhere but here. i thought growing up would be easy. i thought it would get easier. it’s only hard. harder by the day.
A place that ships dock. Where Sailors get off their boats and walk around with their sea legs. A place for commerce and trading. Seedy people and parrots.
port with an e at the end like this “porte” in french means door. you can say ferme la porte which means close the door or you can say ouvre la porte which means open the door. port is also a word used when you’re on a ship. it means left as in left or right. i dont konw what they use for right. port is also the root word of portal which can take you to unknown places.
part is nice if you have a boat and if you are going to go one a boat and you can fich there to :)…
okey, I don’t know what this word means but I think the letter P is just so wonderful. I don’t know why but I just love it! Pears ….
“I’d like a whiskey” said Anna Christie. “Ag no Anna” said her pa, “have a port instead”.
I love port but i have no boat i that but i wonnet to have that but i havent :((((((((( (sad smailie) ;)
When I was on the port yesterday, I loved it, I liked when all the boats came to the port and drived away from the port. It was so beautiful and when the sunset came it was magic. Beautiful.
I like when i se a port, it’s very fun to se a port. When i walked trouht a port it’s fun, i like fun.. port is fun hahahahha…
Isabeau walked through the port, swaying her hips at the sailors that passed by. Of all of them, she picked him. He was handsome and he would make a good companion and fetch a good price when the time came to sell him. So she waved at him and she knew he would follow. Wherever he came from, he would never go back now.
The port opened. The boat stopped. The boat stopped when the port opened and the people couldn’t figure out why. It made absolutly no sense. Why would the port and the boat not communicate like two every present vessiles honed together to do the same job and accomplish the same task?
Port Authority, September 11. Airports, not quite what they used to be.
port, i would love to have a boaot, so i could have it on the port. and i could sail, and go to ibiza and party, and miconos, and just beon my bout. have someone to drive it for me. and i would have a love in every port aswell. i would be free sailing. and not worring about anuthing at all. go to all the clubs and the nautic places, near the port. with th possibility of knowing new people, always being able to sleep in a different city, cities with a port lol
we went to the port. There it was as beautiful as I saw it in my dream. There it was standing there being there without even noticing me. There was the love of my love. Thanks to the port I found the love of my life.
There was once a port that had a ship. and that ship sank.
So I guess port is the word. I was thinking about ley lines and how they are portals in the earth’s atmosphere into the astreal plane. I am weird, I know. But I live near Sedona and there must be something to it.
The ship pulled in. A woman saw the father standing on the shore. She leaped from the bow and into the ocean. He swam to her. He helped her from the seaweed and onto land. The walked towards the town without speaking any words. Nobody saw them again.
Any port in a storm? Is that why you are here? You got kicked out, yet again? I really don’t want to hear it, Sabrina! I have let you back into my life too many times, and you leave again, as soon as your life rights itself!
there once was a port with boats filled with tacos the tacos were radioactive and if you ate them you’d get magical powers and if you don’t then I guess you’re going to die. that sucks. don’t die. get the magical powers. I ate one. I can now fly. HAH in your face.
port adelaide that is a footy team, I don’t know much about footy but it seems fun and I played it once. Port also reminds me of a dock for boats, boating is also very very very fun. I love speed boating and tubing. I wish I could boat more. Actually, I wish I had a boat because boats are awesome!
I was not expecting us to make it to port so soon. Not so quickly after my kidnapping. Honestly, I could not tell whether making it to land was a welcome surprise or not.
The questions still burned fiercely in my mind as the men came parading into the hold. Light blinding me, I couldn’t help but wonder them once more, fear surging forth anew.
Where were they taking me?
Why *had* they taken me?
What was going to happen once we got to their destination?
And most importantly…. what was going to happen to me?
The chains to my shackles clattered noisily to the ground as an ale-breathed sailor unlocked the manacles that bound me to the wall. I scarcely had the time to rejoice in having my now raw wrists freed from their bondage before the same pan roughly grabbed them and started tying them with a length of rope. Under his breath, he gave a warning not to move or try anything. It was pointless to say, really.
Where would I go even if I did try?
The sun seared over high as I stepped out from my dark confines, following the trio of sailors as they pulled me by the rope like a dog on the leash. Part of me was grateful they did, considering my eyes were so strained by the sudden shock of light, that I hardly a clue as to where I was going.
“Step down easily, Miss.” Warned an unfamiliar voice. I was too afraid and unable to look up to see who it was, “Plank’s a bit tricky coming down.”
I blinked my eyes, focusing on my feet as I trailed behind. The cluster of the ship’s crew was growing thicker as we made our way off the ship and onto the pier beside. Gulls cried as they glided in the wind. It suited that the moment I acknowledged the birds, I had felt something wet land on my head.
Amazing that I had yet to cry during that whole endeavor. Being attacked, beaten, kidnapped, and left chained to a wall in the bowels of a filth-ridden ship with nothing but hard tack and lukewarm water for sustenance wasn’t enough to make me break.
No… It had to be something silly. Like the excretion of a terrible fowl, and my inability to wipe it off as it started running down the side of my head – defiling my golden curls.
Now there was no stopping them.
I was just thinking on the way to school this morning that if I could teleport, all of my dreams would come true.
We drank port wine by the old brick fireplace until the sun was nearly up. I was with a girl, a woman that I knew I shouldn’t be with but the wine, the wine cast it’s spell on us both.
Port makes me thing about a summer in Maine. Clear blue water shining in the summer sunshine. A sailboat sailing off into the horizon. Little children call off to each other behind me as their mother corrals them together. A slight summer dress flaps in the breeze.
A welcoming embrace. Arms waiting to surround. My port from the roiling sea, where I can let my anchor down, and come to shore.
air port
boat port
newport beach
boring word
need another word
what else does port mean?
moving from one place to another
Isn’t a port like the window on the ship that shows you the ocean? I remember the episode of the Rugrats where they’re on a boat, and Angelica had lost Cynthia–she’d been thrown overboard–and then gets sent to her room and sees her through the porthole. I always thought it would be so cool to go on a boat and just look out into the ocean like that, seeing all the fish.
port… able things seem to be the hippest things around nowadays.
Any port in a storm.
Port authority.
Deport.
Export
Sexport.
Sex sport.
Flex sort.
water, boats, sea, sky, stars, life, beauty, pain, laughter, jelly beans, fresh smell, clean, love is
It reminded her of her childhood holidays, this photograph of the port. Toffee ice cream, giggling siblings and her parents saving all year long for the smiles upon their little faces.
Makes me think of going sailing with my family. The big boat, the wind on my face, the thrill as we would go back and forth. The sun kissing my skin and leaving it a shade of red. I love it as a memory, hate it as a childhood experaince.
I’m going to the port , not forever , but for a fun and transformative and happy period of change and growth, its different, its a new way of life, full of possibilities, I waited for the equinoctial point to pass and now the lights are green
somewhere to get. somewhere to drop off. boats, lots of boats. pirates of the carribean. TELE-port. probably should have done the capitalization backwards. port. port o potty. terrible.
the port of the sea, filled with the fish of the world. Of Valparaiso. The girl walks, absorbing all the smells and sounds, the sights of the fisherman sailing in. The nets, crossing like a dream catcher intertwining and prepared to catch, to trap, to enslave. The vendors screaming out the names of the congrio, the seabass.
ship papaya puerto san blas computación margarita toro alberto ingris java c++ input output mana barcos caminos llevar cargar usb disco duro computadora entrada salida