I can not, for the life of me, think of anything except my fifth grade science textbook that told us very vaguely how to repair bicycle tyre punctures. So sue me.
Is the most important part of a written speech, because missing puncture can change the whole meaning of it.
I use mostly the “!”, because it expresses the strongest human feelings.
I was riding on the mountain road, the wind through my visor, the rain splashing upon my bike with every intention of giving me brown stripes on my riding gear… the moment was perfect but then i ran over a sharp rock and like the tyre puncture my dreams too got deflated…
Puncture: to break into something. Like skin. You might puncture your finger. Or maybe you might puncture the seal of something. You could puncture someone’s heart; not fully broken, just punctured. Maybe all of us are punctured; just a little bit broken, hardly noticeable, but the puncture is still there. Punctures in anything are nearly invisible – they are such small holes that one could go almost forever without noticing it. But there is something in the word “puncture,” something sharp and dangerous, that hints at a puncture being painful. You would feel a puncture; it would be small but it would be deep. It would be quick to pull itself out (whatever it was that was puncturing you) but the memory would remain.
A punctured flat tire with a broken glass bottom,
Going nowhere real fast at the speed of light,
Bright, sunny, bird chirping day during a lunar eclipse,
Just spinning wheels….
He shuddered, hand pressed against his abdomen and already slick with blood. I pulled him over to the bed and forced him down, ordering him to keep pressure while I dashed about pulling together a makeshift first aid kit.
Drat. I wrote about this word yesterday. A glitch of my own timing, getting to the task later in the day rather than first thing in the morning, or a glitch in the system? Perhaps trying to elicit new ways of thinking about the same word. Puncture. Yikes.
the pain was unbearable. it swallowed me up, from the inside out. The scream slipped from my lips before i could stop it. The wound was seeping, i was letting go.
The puncture wound was small compared to the hole it left in his heart, to know he could ever, ever be the victim of a violent crime. He didn’t have it in his own DNA to strike out, but now he knew others could. It was a tiny puncture. It changed everything.
Somehow the punctured tire on his mountain bike reminded him of a broken heart. Something about how floppy, useless it was – how it’s state wasn’t it’s own fault, a result of his actions. “Yeah, and the action of the person who broke the glass all over the road.”
he sat on the roadside. Grumbling and grunting. He was late, she’d be angry and they were not going to be able to make their annual dinner that they celebrated the day that they met. The tyre had scored a puncture, but the spare tyre looked even worse. Deflated in the boot.
Sometimes people hurt themselves and puncture a part of their body, like a vein or something. People can puncture kidneys and organs too, I think. Some people can die from punctured organs. When a lung is punctured, it collapses.
Some things puncture more than others, like that time when that person gave you a weird look that broke your confidence or that time when the person you cared about broke up with you. they puncture.
As Lucy was walking on the sandy beach, she though how beautiful the view was. The sun was setting, creating a large reflection of colors, purple, red and blue. All of a sudden, Lucy felt something on the bottom of her leg. Ouch, a sharp rock.
I have an old puncture wound on the left side of my torso, it came from an archery accident when I was younger. My brother and I were out practicing one day when this occurred in rural north England.
I thought that I had miss the nail that I saw in the road, however it managed to punture my byicle tyre. This cause me to arrive at my destination late.
ow needle what is even going on? bikes have punctures, you can fix them, i can’t but my dad can. it sounds like punch which is cool because you could get a puncture, i guess from a punch. i don’t know what needles are for, crack people and people who need blood tests and who won’t eat, like anorexics or people who can’t eat like stroke patients.
ouch. penetration. that always seems to hurt someone somehow, doesn’t it.? I mean whether it metaphorical or actually physical…. someone is bound to get hurt from this. Even if it’s unintentional.
The needle causes a puncture in his flesh. He sucks at the tiny droplet of blood. He tastes the metalic swill on his tongue. He likes it. He presses to cause more blood to pool and laps at it again.
A puncture can deflate things, make them smaller- sometimes it can make things pop. But you cover the puncture and build it back up again. We get punctures, they just need to be fixed.
the knife entered the skin, slicing muscle to skin drawing blood as it moves its way down the leg. The blood covered knife then pulls out of the lifeless body
So i was sitting there in class. just bored out of my mind, and out of nowhere he come behind me with this, this thing. i dont know what it was, i just know that i was in the hospital the next day. i was all bruised and had deep puncture wounds. I thought he loved me :(
The knife hit him in the stomach hard. He could feel the puncture wound. All this happened just because he walked outside the long way from the restaurant to his car. What would have happened if he just stopped and waited a little bit? maybe he wouldnt have had to die that night.
Puncturing rain, sleeting down upon the thin leaf. The Kwechin, huddled underneath. He thought of how much better life would be if his leaf were stronger. More sturdy. He went out into the rain to find one. The Golden Leaf.
The picture was a real pain – just at the wrong time! I was in a hurry tearing down the hill and whoomph! The tire went flat and I wobbled all over the place and bam! – hit the gutter and crash! Over I went and splat on the the ground. Argh!!
Puncture. I can’t think straight right now that i can’t really think of something good about that word. Puncture, puncture, puncture. A word in the dictionary that starts with the letter P, ends with E, and has two syllable? xD
You punctured me with your stabbing words, opening old wounds and creating new ones that would inevitably scar, leaving me to be the broken person that I never thought I would become. I always thought I was stronger, but you proved me wrong.
like a suffocating, dying black sky overcast with denial, you puncture right through me, letting in the sunflares, the boiling, purifying heat that washes through like lightning, like white-hot water, an angry, forgiving ocean that burns and cools and rushes
Without punctuation, where would we be? In fact, some sentences don’t even make sense without punctuation. See I’ve had to live my whole life with people/friends who weren’t able to use punctuation properly. You might call me a Grammar Nazi, but I think that the people that I hang out with should at least know proper English.
tire puncture. I don’t know why I thought of tires but heart’s can be punctured too. They can be broken. They can be torn into pieces. Or punctured. Being puncture can be good. From dust rises the phoenix. A punctured tire can be fixed. So, can a heart.
i thought that i had had my heart broken before. but it’s different this time. its like the same needle that was used to rip a hole in my heart has punctures my whole body; leaving me deflated an empty. i go to work. i come home. i cook something. i sleep. i cry between these things. i wish i knew how to mend the hole, how to inflate myself again.
but i don’t.
Puncture my heart, yes.
Go on now, break it apart.
I’ll hand you the shards.
Yes, a quick haiku.
I can not, for the life of me, think of anything except my fifth grade science textbook that told us very vaguely how to repair bicycle tyre punctures. So sue me.
Wind blows through, whistling like a saggy balloon. There is not enough left in me to keep afloat, I flop. Dead and smelly. Blat.
Is the most important part of a written speech, because missing puncture can change the whole meaning of it.
I use mostly the “!”, because it expresses the strongest human feelings.
A puncture happens when something with a sharp edge inserts into another object.
I was riding on the mountain road, the wind through my visor, the rain splashing upon my bike with every intention of giving me brown stripes on my riding gear… the moment was perfect but then i ran over a sharp rock and like the tyre puncture my dreams too got deflated…
Puncture: to break into something. Like skin. You might puncture your finger. Or maybe you might puncture the seal of something. You could puncture someone’s heart; not fully broken, just punctured. Maybe all of us are punctured; just a little bit broken, hardly noticeable, but the puncture is still there. Punctures in anything are nearly invisible – they are such small holes that one could go almost forever without noticing it. But there is something in the word “puncture,” something sharp and dangerous, that hints at a puncture being painful. You would feel a puncture; it would be small but it would be deep. It would be quick to pull itself out (whatever it was that was puncturing you) but the memory would remain.
A punctured flat tire with a broken glass bottom,
Going nowhere real fast at the speed of light,
Bright, sunny, bird chirping day during a lunar eclipse,
Just spinning wheels….
there’s a puncture in my heart, just like there’s a puncture on my tyre
He shuddered, hand pressed against his abdomen and already slick with blood. I pulled him over to the bed and forced him down, ordering him to keep pressure while I dashed about pulling together a makeshift first aid kit.
Drat. I wrote about this word yesterday. A glitch of my own timing, getting to the task later in the day rather than first thing in the morning, or a glitch in the system? Perhaps trying to elicit new ways of thinking about the same word. Puncture. Yikes.
the pain was unbearable. it swallowed me up, from the inside out. The scream slipped from my lips before i could stop it. The wound was seeping, i was letting go.
The puncture wound was small compared to the hole it left in his heart, to know he could ever, ever be the victim of a violent crime. He didn’t have it in his own DNA to strike out, but now he knew others could. It was a tiny puncture. It changed everything.
Somehow the punctured tire on his mountain bike reminded him of a broken heart. Something about how floppy, useless it was – how it’s state wasn’t it’s own fault, a result of his actions. “Yeah, and the action of the person who broke the glass all over the road.”
one day sam was walking along the street and he sees a car with a punctured tyre
he sat on the roadside. Grumbling and grunting. He was late, she’d be angry and they were not going to be able to make their annual dinner that they celebrated the day that they met. The tyre had scored a puncture, but the spare tyre looked even worse. Deflated in the boot.
Sometimes people hurt themselves and puncture a part of their body, like a vein or something. People can puncture kidneys and organs too, I think. Some people can die from punctured organs. When a lung is punctured, it collapses.
Some things puncture more than others, like that time when that person gave you a weird look that broke your confidence or that time when the person you cared about broke up with you. they puncture.
I ‘d hate to get another one. Last time I couldn’t get the tyre off.So embarrassing.
As Lucy was walking on the sandy beach, she though how beautiful the view was. The sun was setting, creating a large reflection of colors, purple, red and blue. All of a sudden, Lucy felt something on the bottom of her leg. Ouch, a sharp rock.
I have an old puncture wound on the left side of my torso, it came from an archery accident when I was younger. My brother and I were out practicing one day when this occurred in rural north England.
My bones are dry, and I just want your breath to envelop my flesh. Like cotton blankets. Winter blankets.
But the cold, it’s a 3 second seep through the fur. And you’re there, but gone away through the tiny breaks.
I thought that I had miss the nail that I saw in the road, however it managed to punture my byicle tyre. This cause me to arrive at my destination late.
ow needle what is even going on? bikes have punctures, you can fix them, i can’t but my dad can. it sounds like punch which is cool because you could get a puncture, i guess from a punch. i don’t know what needles are for, crack people and people who need blood tests and who won’t eat, like anorexics or people who can’t eat like stroke patients.
ouch. penetration. that always seems to hurt someone somehow, doesn’t it.? I mean whether it metaphorical or actually physical…. someone is bound to get hurt from this. Even if it’s unintentional.
The needle causes a puncture in his flesh. He sucks at the tiny droplet of blood. He tastes the metalic swill on his tongue. He likes it. He presses to cause more blood to pool and laps at it again.
A puncture can deflate things, make them smaller- sometimes it can make things pop. But you cover the puncture and build it back up again. We get punctures, they just need to be fixed.
the knife entered the skin, slicing muscle to skin drawing blood as it moves its way down the leg. The blood covered knife then pulls out of the lifeless body
So i was sitting there in class. just bored out of my mind, and out of nowhere he come behind me with this, this thing. i dont know what it was, i just know that i was in the hospital the next day. i was all bruised and had deep puncture wounds. I thought he loved me :(
The knife hit him in the stomach hard. He could feel the puncture wound. All this happened just because he walked outside the long way from the restaurant to his car. What would have happened if he just stopped and waited a little bit? maybe he wouldnt have had to die that night.
Puncture, juncture, functure runcture, bluncture…. argh! This poem is never going to work, nerk verk skerk.!
Puncturing rain, sleeting down upon the thin leaf. The Kwechin, huddled underneath. He thought of how much better life would be if his leaf were stronger. More sturdy. He went out into the rain to find one. The Golden Leaf.
The picture was a real pain – just at the wrong time! I was in a hurry tearing down the hill and whoomph! The tire went flat and I wobbled all over the place and bam! – hit the gutter and crash! Over I went and splat on the the ground. Argh!!
A bust, a hole, a wound. A punctured heart, a punctured soul. Popped open, seams split. Left gaping and ripped for the world to peek into.
Puncture. I can’t think straight right now that i can’t really think of something good about that word. Puncture, puncture, puncture. A word in the dictionary that starts with the letter P, ends with E, and has two syllable? xD
You punctured me with your stabbing words, opening old wounds and creating new ones that would inevitably scar, leaving me to be the broken person that I never thought I would become. I always thought I was stronger, but you proved me wrong.
like a suffocating, dying black sky overcast with denial, you puncture right through me, letting in the sunflares, the boiling, purifying heat that washes through like lightning, like white-hot water, an angry, forgiving ocean that burns and cools and rushes
Without punctuation, where would we be? In fact, some sentences don’t even make sense without punctuation. See I’ve had to live my whole life with people/friends who weren’t able to use punctuation properly. You might call me a Grammar Nazi, but I think that the people that I hang out with should at least know proper English.
tire puncture. I don’t know why I thought of tires but heart’s can be punctured too. They can be broken. They can be torn into pieces. Or punctured. Being puncture can be good. From dust rises the phoenix. A punctured tire can be fixed. So, can a heart.
i thought that i had had my heart broken before. but it’s different this time. its like the same needle that was used to rip a hole in my heart has punctures my whole body; leaving me deflated an empty. i go to work. i come home. i cook something. i sleep. i cry between these things. i wish i knew how to mend the hole, how to inflate myself again.
but i don’t.