It was a circle. Not an ordinary circle, though. This was magic circle. As Alex went up to the round object, he tripped on it. As he rolled it, he had an amazing idea. This could pull their chariots. He would call it the wheel. When Alex introduced it to the rest of his tribe, they called him crazy, except for one. She knew it would work.
The boxer only had one round left in the bout of his life. out of all of the termoil he faced over decades of being the center of attention, his entire legacy rested on this moment. His mind went blank and he began to have flash backs of his elustrious moments while in the ring and he began to see that it all could be for nothing if he looses this one particular round.
Do you know what I find incredibly annoying? A round-about. Simple, right? Not so much! Meant to keep traffic flowing, confused people go round & round instead of zipping through.
Round and round and round she goes…wait…stop. We already know this one! Plus does she really want to go around that many times? And what exactly is she going round? If that were me, I would refuse to go “round” anymore. I’m putting my foot down…this round and round stuff is for the birds.
All around the mulberry bush the woman ran and laughed her hair flying round and round as she twirled in an ecstatic frenzy. The faster she spun the higher she lifted until she was a thousand feet in the air, breathing air no one had ever breathed before. It was crisp and invigorating- it was full of life fueling energy. She breathed it in til she thought she would burst. Then she held it – she grew bigger and bigger. She became calm and resolute. She started to float gently back to earth, swaying and swooping as she descended. She hovered and saw the people below her. She saw their suffering. Her eyes filled with tears. Her tears dropped on the earth. She began to glow and hum. The people began humming with her. The edges of her body began to shimmer and become transluscent as they spread further and thee over the sky until she filled all the space that the people could see. The humming grew louder and the people smiled. They hugged one another and then there was world peace.
A ball rolled towards me from across the street. Those kids were out plauiying again- did they ever stoip? I kicked it back to them, the round ball bouncing across the street and back into their yard. I yearned for the smiles they flahsed me. Why couldn’t I play anymore? I was perfectly happy but that part of me- that inner child- it was gonel.
Round. Like circles. Or a paper round. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if your paper round went in a circle and you delivered circular papers? A round paper round for round papers.
Round is a ball. Round curves are preferable in a women. Round means also “connecting” – around the world. Yes, the world is round. This brings me to conspiracy theorist. I don’t understand why they claim the world wasn’t round. I guess it has something to do with all the information defecity and uncertainty today. Even though the world is round and we seem to know everyone around the round world, the world has seem to grow not only smaller, but also bigger.
The earth seemed endless from the middle of the field. It seemed flat and infinite. It was hard to understand standing here that the earth was round. She looked in all directions, trying to find a marker that broke up the horizon. Nothing. Was there any where on Earth this abandoned anymore?
Perfectly round, a space to move without corners, and a face, roundish, smiling, a face without corners or edges, with a slight sheen and round eyes right in the middle, a series of ovoids.
it was round, sitting atop a hill. Angled just perfectly so it won’t roll down the hill. Tribes and nomads came and go, and they wondered about it, the round object the rising and setting sun, and eventually they began to worship it, shrines were built, offerings were left by the base of the hills, oral folklore woven and inherited by latter generations, and when cities and countries and empires began to get established in far away countries, pilgrims were arranged to view the holy round object, to understand its profoundness. One day, a child of two pilgrims who were silently meditating approached the hill, beyond the shrines and temples and offerings, beyond the forbidden zone and towards the voice he heard calling for him solemnly. He walked and he walked until he saw the holy object up close, another step and it simply tumbled downwards, soundlessly.
fin
As he looked around at the rapidly-filling bar, with many cute blokes abounding, Chester made the decision to stay. I’ll have another round, he told the bartender, getting ready to throw back another pint and hopefully have enough liquid courage to approach someone.
Round. The Earth, the donut, the big smelly man. Round as the jawbreaker that’s only flaw is that it won’t break your jaw.Endless thoughts that whirl through my head, round and round again. Will it ever end? That’d be the day. Round and round the carousel goes, will it stop? No one knows.
Every day is a new round. A new match. What is it I’m going to fight for today? What is it I’m going to win at the end of the day? What will I have lost? And what does it matter really? I’m so hellbent on what tomorrow’s round will bring already anyway.
plump. overweight. ugly. fat. all labels thrown around. by parents. by peers. by myself. I hate being this big. I am disgusting. at least, isn’t that how I should feel? that’s what everyone says anyways. i should hate myself. i should kill myself, even. but i won’t. I am stronger than that. i am stronger than anyone. I am invincible.
There’s something that really makes me think whenever you talk about praying for God to spin the world around again. I mean I get that it’s gotta go round and round before anything can really happen, but my god, what do you have against the way things are now?
Round and round again, but Darling, that precious God of yours, he ain’t doing a damn thing. Otherwise there’d be more babies born than dying and there’d be more kids making it passed eighteen than there are stagnating enough to lose sight of who they are.
“‘Round here, all tenants pull their weight. I don’t do dishes or toilets, so mind yourself if ya plan to make a mess,” the old woman said with a heavy scrutinizing stare. Sheila tried to offer a smile as she nodded, but it felt like a snarl. The old coot didn’t stand around for pleasantries; in seconds flat, there was a door slam. Sheila dropped her suitcase and surveyed the mothball scented covers and dusty sheets during a poor imitation of curtains. She had no intentions of staying ’round here’ too long.
“Keep your arms round,” the words echo in my head as I jump towards the ground. “Breathe out, keep your head tucked,” all the thousands of times done this over the past nine years and I still go through the monologue every time. My hands touches the ground and then I am rolling, flying to the other side of the mat. I jump up unharmed on the other side, grinning and rush back to the line so as not to get rolled on by someone else.
“Round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows.” Except her. She knows, because she’s done this before. She’s done all of this before. She has lived her entire life already, from start to finish, and it reliving it now, only mere moments from her death. Funny, isn’t it? We imagine our lives flashing before our eyes — but what if it played at the same pace as you experienced it?
My ass. Used to be this shape. Now it’s kind of like a pancake, though I like pancakes. You walk around wondering if anyone else likes them too. Except well, it’s an older pancake, if you know what I mean. So there’s that to consider. Is there anyone out there who might like to try an older pancake? Not one that’s been neglected and sitting out on the counter for ages; not one that’s cold and dry. But one that’s been reasonably taken care of, nurtured if you will. Is there anybody out there who’d be interested in that? Besides the person who’s my partner, that is. Just asking. Because it seems as though when you get older, nobody wants to come with you on the trip. Not anybody younger than you are, that’s for sure.
Round and round we went like cat and mouse round and round through this godforsaken house round and round with no end round and round just running no defend
Lana was round, and she was sanguine. She was cheerful and benign. She served hot plates of sticky sweetness, whipped cream on top at half past nine. All the diners loved fat Lana, who was beautiful and sharp. At the end of the night, when the restaurant closed, she would trill out a song like a golden harp. Round and sharp, singing like a harp.
Round and round they go. Playing a cruel game of cat and mouse. Him always leaving and her always wanting him back. How many times could they re-live this circle? How many times could they go round? She didn’t know if she had it in her to keep up the game
round and round it goes, same old thing over and over again. time is a wheel, and we’re all being crushed under it’s weight. he had always thought that history couldn’t really repeat itself. but maybe he could force it to.
It was round, three dimensional by the looks of it. It glowed a fiery red colour, the heat from it burnt my face and travelled down my throat. I felt like it was taking over my entire body. I felt my blood boil over. I could only describe it as someone walking over my grave but instead of sending shivers down my spine, it sent a spark of fire shooting inside me. Wrapping itself around my heart.
round and round
the heart goes.
its been rubbed and oiled
and polished
and all its edges
are now curves
and every time it sees you
there it goes
round and round
rolling off the road
away from me.
It was round, three dimensional by the looks of it. It glowed a fiery red colour, the heat from it burnt my face and travelled down my throat. I felt like it was taking over my entire body. I felt my blood boil over. I could only describe it as someone walking over my grave but instead of sending shivers through me, it sent a spark of fire shooting inside me. Wrapping itself around my heart.
It was a circle. Not an ordinary circle, though. This was magic circle. As Alex went up to the round object, he tripped on it. As he rolled it, he had an amazing idea. This could pull their chariots. He would call it the wheel. When Alex introduced it to the rest of his tribe, they called him crazy, except for one. She knew it would work.
The boxer only had one round left in the bout of his life. out of all of the termoil he faced over decades of being the center of attention, his entire legacy rested on this moment. His mind went blank and he began to have flash backs of his elustrious moments while in the ring and he began to see that it all could be for nothing if he looses this one particular round.
Do you know what I find incredibly annoying? A round-about. Simple, right? Not so much! Meant to keep traffic flowing, confused people go round & round instead of zipping through.
Round and round and round she goes…wait…stop. We already know this one! Plus does she really want to go around that many times? And what exactly is she going round? If that were me, I would refuse to go “round” anymore. I’m putting my foot down…this round and round stuff is for the birds.
oblique
square
striped
solid
what describes you doesn’t describe me
and that is ok.
simply put
what we share
is difference
All around the mulberry bush the woman ran and laughed her hair flying round and round as she twirled in an ecstatic frenzy. The faster she spun the higher she lifted until she was a thousand feet in the air, breathing air no one had ever breathed before. It was crisp and invigorating- it was full of life fueling energy. She breathed it in til she thought she would burst. Then she held it – she grew bigger and bigger. She became calm and resolute. She started to float gently back to earth, swaying and swooping as she descended. She hovered and saw the people below her. She saw their suffering. Her eyes filled with tears. Her tears dropped on the earth. She began to glow and hum. The people began humming with her. The edges of her body began to shimmer and become transluscent as they spread further and thee over the sky until she filled all the space that the people could see. The humming grew louder and the people smiled. They hugged one another and then there was world peace.
A ball rolled towards me from across the street. Those kids were out plauiying again- did they ever stoip? I kicked it back to them, the round ball bouncing across the street and back into their yard. I yearned for the smiles they flahsed me. Why couldn’t I play anymore? I was perfectly happy but that part of me- that inner child- it was gonel.
Round. Like circles. Or a paper round. Wouldn’t it be fantastic if your paper round went in a circle and you delivered circular papers? A round paper round for round papers.
Round is a ball. Round curves are preferable in a women. Round means also “connecting” – around the world. Yes, the world is round. This brings me to conspiracy theorist. I don’t understand why they claim the world wasn’t round. I guess it has something to do with all the information defecity and uncertainty today. Even though the world is round and we seem to know everyone around the round world, the world has seem to grow not only smaller, but also bigger.
The earth seemed endless from the middle of the field. It seemed flat and infinite. It was hard to understand standing here that the earth was round. She looked in all directions, trying to find a marker that broke up the horizon. Nothing. Was there any where on Earth this abandoned anymore?
Perfectly round, a space to move without corners, and a face, roundish, smiling, a face without corners or edges, with a slight sheen and round eyes right in the middle, a series of ovoids.
it was round, sitting atop a hill. Angled just perfectly so it won’t roll down the hill. Tribes and nomads came and go, and they wondered about it, the round object the rising and setting sun, and eventually they began to worship it, shrines were built, offerings were left by the base of the hills, oral folklore woven and inherited by latter generations, and when cities and countries and empires began to get established in far away countries, pilgrims were arranged to view the holy round object, to understand its profoundness. One day, a child of two pilgrims who were silently meditating approached the hill, beyond the shrines and temples and offerings, beyond the forbidden zone and towards the voice he heard calling for him solemnly. He walked and he walked until he saw the holy object up close, another step and it simply tumbled downwards, soundlessly.
fin
fat ball
goodearth doremon eyes
sphere noodles
it’s a shape . The shape of the sun , moon and all the planets . I find the shape cool . O is round . I feel silly !
it’s a shape . The shape of the moon , sun , planets . Plump people are also called round at times . That doesn’t even make sense .
Round and round and round.
The bicycle race was quite entertaining, yes.
round. what goes around comes back around. circle of friends. little world. try not to get stuck, going around in circles. move.
Its going, going, going… never ending. Just around the bend. Around the next, then the next, and the next.
As he looked around at the rapidly-filling bar, with many cute blokes abounding, Chester made the decision to stay. I’ll have another round, he told the bartender, getting ready to throw back another pint and hopefully have enough liquid courage to approach someone.
Round. The Earth, the donut, the big smelly man. Round as the jawbreaker that’s only flaw is that it won’t break your jaw.Endless thoughts that whirl through my head, round and round again. Will it ever end? That’d be the day. Round and round the carousel goes, will it stop? No one knows.
Every day is a new round. A new match. What is it I’m going to fight for today? What is it I’m going to win at the end of the day? What will I have lost? And what does it matter really? I’m so hellbent on what tomorrow’s round will bring already anyway.
plump. overweight. ugly. fat. all labels thrown around. by parents. by peers. by myself. I hate being this big. I am disgusting. at least, isn’t that how I should feel? that’s what everyone says anyways. i should hate myself. i should kill myself, even. but i won’t. I am stronger than that. i am stronger than anyone. I am invincible.
There’s something that really makes me think whenever you talk about praying for God to spin the world around again. I mean I get that it’s gotta go round and round before anything can really happen, but my god, what do you have against the way things are now?
Round and round again, but Darling, that precious God of yours, he ain’t doing a damn thing. Otherwise there’d be more babies born than dying and there’d be more kids making it passed eighteen than there are stagnating enough to lose sight of who they are.
“‘Round here, all tenants pull their weight. I don’t do dishes or toilets, so mind yourself if ya plan to make a mess,” the old woman said with a heavy scrutinizing stare. Sheila tried to offer a smile as she nodded, but it felt like a snarl. The old coot didn’t stand around for pleasantries; in seconds flat, there was a door slam. Sheila dropped her suitcase and surveyed the mothball scented covers and dusty sheets during a poor imitation of curtains. She had no intentions of staying ’round here’ too long.
i hope that the next round of tequila is on you, i’m out of cash today!
“Keep your arms round,” the words echo in my head as I jump towards the ground. “Breathe out, keep your head tucked,” all the thousands of times done this over the past nine years and I still go through the monologue every time. My hands touches the ground and then I am rolling, flying to the other side of the mat. I jump up unharmed on the other side, grinning and rush back to the line so as not to get rolled on by someone else.
“Round and round it goes, where it stops, nobody knows.” Except her. She knows, because she’s done this before. She’s done all of this before. She has lived her entire life already, from start to finish, and it reliving it now, only mere moments from her death. Funny, isn’t it? We imagine our lives flashing before our eyes — but what if it played at the same pace as you experienced it?
A boxer looks at every round as a new beginning. I’m ready for my next round.
My ass. Used to be this shape. Now it’s kind of like a pancake, though I like pancakes. You walk around wondering if anyone else likes them too. Except well, it’s an older pancake, if you know what I mean. So there’s that to consider. Is there anyone out there who might like to try an older pancake? Not one that’s been neglected and sitting out on the counter for ages; not one that’s cold and dry. But one that’s been reasonably taken care of, nurtured if you will. Is there anybody out there who’d be interested in that? Besides the person who’s my partner, that is. Just asking. Because it seems as though when you get older, nobody wants to come with you on the trip. Not anybody younger than you are, that’s for sure.
Round and round we went like cat and mouse round and round through this godforsaken house round and round with no end round and round just running no defend
Lana was round, and she was sanguine. She was cheerful and benign. She served hot plates of sticky sweetness, whipped cream on top at half past nine. All the diners loved fat Lana, who was beautiful and sharp. At the end of the night, when the restaurant closed, she would trill out a song like a golden harp. Round and sharp, singing like a harp.
You led my heart all around
Around your fanatical mind
Around your conceited words
How deftly you circumnavigated
The true coldness of your being
And left me here all alone
To work around the hole you left
Circle, represents a ball, can be defined by pi, a shape with no points or edges, is symmetrical, can define a smooth edge.
Round and round they go. Playing a cruel game of cat and mouse. Him always leaving and her always wanting him back. How many times could they re-live this circle? How many times could they go round? She didn’t know if she had it in her to keep up the game
round and round it goes, same old thing over and over again. time is a wheel, and we’re all being crushed under it’s weight. he had always thought that history couldn’t really repeat itself. but maybe he could force it to.
A circle, a shape, a balloon, life is a full circle, birthday cake
A curving object without any corners and continuous usually. Used to describe a circle or oval or anything without a corner or sharp end.
It was round, three dimensional by the looks of it. It glowed a fiery red colour, the heat from it burnt my face and travelled down my throat. I felt like it was taking over my entire body. I felt my blood boil over. I could only describe it as someone walking over my grave but instead of sending shivers down my spine, it sent a spark of fire shooting inside me. Wrapping itself around my heart.
round and round
the heart goes.
its been rubbed and oiled
and polished
and all its edges
are now curves
and every time it sees you
there it goes
round and round
rolling off the road
away from me.
It was round, three dimensional by the looks of it. It glowed a fiery red colour, the heat from it burnt my face and travelled down my throat. I felt like it was taking over my entire body. I felt my blood boil over. I could only describe it as someone walking over my grave but instead of sending shivers through me, it sent a spark of fire shooting inside me. Wrapping itself around my heart.