Stampede. Shivers that takes me back to documentaries with David Attembourgh, watching a herd of animals stampede across a landscape when they are being chased by a predator. I watched in awe as the helicopter lens would span across the herd, they looked so small and yet so significant.
The rush of all things. A stampede of emotion that derives us to only quivers. The rush of adrenaline fights against your every will, and you are born again…
The emerald glass doors of the shopping mall began to part tantalizingly. Almost instantaneously, a middle-aged lady shot towards the minuscule gap and attempted to squeeze herself in. Thousands followed her lead, leaving behind faint imprints of themselves as they pressed against the formerly transparent glass.
In their pursuit of material benefit, not a hand was offered to the wizened old man who had lost his balance once those healthier and stronger than him had begun to shove, nor the tiny twin-tailed child hardly reaching the knee of an average adult.
I hate stampedes. The roaring of maniacs all rushing for just one crazy little Hello Kitty doll, eardrum-splitting shrieks of people tumbling down like rag dolls being shoved about roughly on the sea of torrentious waves of humanity, the gruesome sight of people being pushed down onto the floor and their faces being contorted into strange but ghastly features…
She sat at the oaken desk, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead. She stared at the clock as the second hand slowly, slowly, slowly ticked to the large number twelve. A bell began buzzing incessantly, and the moment she had been waiting for arrived.
A herd of crazed first graders stampeded into the room, shouting and cajoling.
“…What’s so scary about that?” She actually likes the idea of running heedlessly amidst a herd of pounding, trampling beasts and listening to their thudding in her ears.
Cyril lifts a brow and squints one eye at her- Petunia notes that they’re starting to look a little too red around the corners. “Excuse me?”
“For starters, you could get stomped.” Landon hands her a glass of cider. “Among other things.”
“Trampled.” Cyril nods and gives her a smirk he knows is far too ugly and not inviting at all. “Have you ever seen a horse’s hoof make a dent in guy’s head?”
Petunia’s cider suddenly tastes too sour. “Of course not!”
“Great! Let me detail it for you.” Cyril takes her glass, downs it, and continues his story about how he somehow robbed the wrong truck and found himself in a congregation of loose, rampaging horses.
A stampede of love letters graces my mailbox Today- valentines day. The girls love me. Im the popular football star of the city, and they say I’m quite handsome (they say things about my cheekbones and forearms) I get all of the girls…. Or I would get the girls if I wanted them.
All I know is that the rival quarterback has one more valentine from a secret admirer in *his* mailbox today. All I dream about is that one of my secret admirers is secretly *him*.
Horses and sweat on an old country road. The cattle are restless, but maybe it’s just the storm that’s brewing on the eastern horizon. Someone is shouting in the distance.
There’s a long road ahead, split in two.
The sign reads “Make a choice”; I look to my left and look to my right.
I’m reminded of “Alice in the wonderland”- you know the scene with the twins;
one tells only lies and the other only truths–sad thing I can’t remember which road lead to truth and I’m back to staring at the sign…I hear a noise to my left, but somehow look to my right and there I see it a stampede of beauty and wonder heading my way. My eyes turn into hearts and body mush, so I turn around and take the left exit, because an illusion of beauty that perfect is ALWAYS a lie…
The grey wrinkles hurtle; the herd’s on the move. The sheer force of ivory would puncture my ribs, then puncturing my organs, leaving me to smear into in-existence, or wedge itself through my front and back, until I was pitchforked like sweet hay.
let’s rage across this earth, stomping on things we can’t see or feel or even know.
an ant may have bitten me today.
perhaps he was raging across my earth.
i don’t know because i am a juggernaut.
I wish that this word made a rush of thoughts come to my head, a stampede of ideas, a wave of wishes and dreams that could easily be transformed into beautiful literature.
But it doesn’t.
So I’ll just write about the feeling of disappointment I have right now, and wait for tomorrow.
soon you’ll disappear and you’ll have face them
no matter how invisible you think you are your fear won’t
help you evade them
if you manage to escape like a rock you’ll be forever frozen
but you’ll never escape earth’s erosion
there’s no use in hiding
run, run deep into the woods and wait for the foot soldiers
a stampede will devour your insides
it’s a part of corrosion
swim, swim further down into the ocean
pursue you they will, no matter the sacrifice
they’re here to wage a war against your nature
they want to know if you can fight back
will the curvature of your spin change
will it reverberate
they’re here to spill your blood, find out what you lack
there’s no need to capture you or your body
your anatomy they don’t desire
they want your mind and your thoughts
after all you’re a liar
listen close you might her them sing
a story they’ll tell, but you won’t hear the ending
the choir will know but you will continue guessing
“im here to devour you, what will you do
run, swim, crawl, walk it won’t make a difference
i’ll find you, i’ll hunt you
i’ll mask myself as more than an acquaintance”
has it ever occurred to you that what im saying might all be nonsense
i stay because i want to be a part of it all when it collapses
before i knew it i was surrounded by a stampede of so many bikes and cars that i had never seen before, models of cars yet unseen by the human race were now surrounding my cold, wet, body. moonlight was peeking in from the overhanging trees and the hot putrid smell of burning gasoline was penetrating the air and anywhere else it could get, including my lungs. i coughed several times, desperately trying to rid my lungs of the smoke that was slowly filling them, but soon enough the breath had left me. there were voices around me, faint voices, saying words in a language i did not recognize, the sounds growing farther and farther away. i feel my eyes begin to droop and i crumble to the floor, my last thought slowly dissipating from the psyche as my conscience drifts to the brink of no return. at long last, a sense of peace spreading throughout my body put every trouble, emotion, and worry to rest.
There was a stampede once the gates opened. Five hours of waiting had robbed most of the people of their dignity, their patience, and their sense of propriety. And the show had yet to begin!
The running of bulls may as well have been a stampede of them.
My thoughts were hardly on the spectacle, the show.
It was him. Chaos all around and yet that man was on my mind again.
The gate that was her composure budged just a little. Just enough to let one small thought out from its confines, through her mind and out her mouth.
“Why not?” slipped quietly through her lips as he walked away. She fell to her knees.
Not to be left behind, the gate was forced wider open as feelings and thoughts, bound by ‘composure’ for so long, tried to set themselves free. A regret broke free, and escaped in a tear. A memory. A fear. Suddenly, a stampede of suppressed sadness burst from behind the wall that was her usual forced smile and streamed down her cheeks.
There was a stampede of humans running through the street. Red, deep, dark red was splattered on the white shirts of foreigners and Spaniards. It was La Tomatina, a festival notorious of the world. They were running faster and faster until all of the sudden there was a shout from a window above…
He approached her in a stampede of feet and arms, swooping her up into an tight embrace, promising to never let go and left in a cloud of dust and dirt.
I didn’t see it coming. It was just a thump thump thump in my chest-a shaking in my limbs. I clenched my jaw against the chatter. I felt the wave before it hit me, inhaled the smoke before the fire caught. I wasn’t ready for the pain, but it hit me like a stamapede.
the stampede of her heart raced through her body and into his. She felt his repeat the same movements, to the same pace. Pain and pleasure ringing every nook and cranny and their bodies molded into each other.
She turned around and realized where she was. She was dead in the middle of the woods. Why am I here? There was a stampede of thoughts flowing through her head. She was trying to figure out why she was in the woods. Did she run away from the one girl she dared to love? Or did she run away from her feelings?
a large group of animals or people running in union for example the wildabeasts in the Lion King it often kills anything in its path and is destructive
Animals can stampede
people can get hurt in stampede
the running with the bulls in Spain is a stampede
you can stampede onto courts and fields after winning a game
The elephants came running towards me; I began to scream. I attempted to woo them with the bag of peanuts I’d acquired from the cinema, but to no avail. They were angry, they were frightened. I too was frightened. It made me worried. Why were they running? The true mystery.
“IT”S ANOTHER STAMPEDE!!!!!? THE ZEBRAS ARE AT IT AGAIN THEY ARE GOING TO TRAMPLE THAT POOR IMAGINARY CUB!” I screamed as I ran from the barn. Me and sister Claire were playing pretend once again. We always love to laugh and joke about living in a world were it was just us and wild animals and that seeing stampede of zebras was a regular thing. “Alrighhttt thats ENOUGH! I AM STARVING BEATRICE!” Claire said. (We had mac&cheese waiting in the oven.) “Seriously, Clai all you care about is food!” I said defiantly. We raced each other inside the farmhouse and gathered around the table with the rest of our family. We have tons of little sisters…all younger than the age of 11. It’s very loud and mac&cheese is a favorite of the bunch. “It was good we got in early”…I whispered to Claire because our little sisters reminded me of a rather squeaky but cute stampede.
by Brittany (you can call me britt if you want or don't i do not care whatsoever) on 10.15.2013
it was when i opened my eyes to hear you breathing next to me. it was when you turned over in sleep and held on to me. night terrors or the physical memory of me; it was simply when you held me close. claimed me for yourself.
When all the bulls come running after you and you have no clue where to turn, you have no chance of escape, and no chance of getting away without injury. You stand alone in the midst of terrifying impossible odds. Overcoming the sure scenario seems insurmountable.
Here it comes, the river of dust that rises higher and higher with every thud. Louder, closer, I fear for my life. The are only a few miles away, but my heart races. Thud, thud, thud, the stomping gets faster and my heart beat catches up.
Pressure stampedes on my psyche, as I recover from a day filled with self-doubt. Am I worthy? Am I good? It’s like a culture-shock; yesterday I was good enough for the world, today, I am not sure. The agonizing affect of doubt.
The bulls burst through the gates, trampling everything and everyone not clinging for dear life against the fences on the far sides. A child ahead dropped something into the road directly in front of the raging stampede, and watched in horror as whatever toy they cherished was dragged out, stamped out into something three times its original size. I watched the child’s face from the other side of the fence, and saw my lover’s eyes as I told her where I was going, and where I intended to stay as either a beating heart or a lost soul. One more moment’s glance, and I jumped off of the fence, running with the crowd.
they rushed to me
a carpet of black legs
that crawled an ocean
a blackening blush
a dead scarab wrapped
in the ancient afterlife
Stampede. Shivers that takes me back to documentaries with David Attembourgh, watching a herd of animals stampede across a landscape when they are being chased by a predator. I watched in awe as the helicopter lens would span across the herd, they looked so small and yet so significant.
The rush of all things. A stampede of emotion that derives us to only quivers. The rush of adrenaline fights against your every will, and you are born again…
The emerald glass doors of the shopping mall began to part tantalizingly. Almost instantaneously, a middle-aged lady shot towards the minuscule gap and attempted to squeeze herself in. Thousands followed her lead, leaving behind faint imprints of themselves as they pressed against the formerly transparent glass.
In their pursuit of material benefit, not a hand was offered to the wizened old man who had lost his balance once those healthier and stronger than him had begun to shove, nor the tiny twin-tailed child hardly reaching the knee of an average adult.
I hate stampedes. The roaring of maniacs all rushing for just one crazy little Hello Kitty doll, eardrum-splitting shrieks of people tumbling down like rag dolls being shoved about roughly on the sea of torrentious waves of humanity, the gruesome sight of people being pushed down onto the floor and their faces being contorted into strange but ghastly features…
She sat at the oaken desk, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead. She stared at the clock as the second hand slowly, slowly, slowly ticked to the large number twelve. A bell began buzzing incessantly, and the moment she had been waiting for arrived.
A herd of crazed first graders stampeded into the room, shouting and cajoling.
Crushing people, dying, death by crushing, agony
“…What’s so scary about that?” She actually likes the idea of running heedlessly amidst a herd of pounding, trampling beasts and listening to their thudding in her ears.
Cyril lifts a brow and squints one eye at her- Petunia notes that they’re starting to look a little too red around the corners. “Excuse me?”
“For starters, you could get stomped.” Landon hands her a glass of cider. “Among other things.”
“Trampled.” Cyril nods and gives her a smirk he knows is far too ugly and not inviting at all. “Have you ever seen a horse’s hoof make a dent in guy’s head?”
Petunia’s cider suddenly tastes too sour. “Of course not!”
“Great! Let me detail it for you.” Cyril takes her glass, downs it, and continues his story about how he somehow robbed the wrong truck and found himself in a congregation of loose, rampaging horses.
A stampede of love letters graces my mailbox Today- valentines day. The girls love me. Im the popular football star of the city, and they say I’m quite handsome (they say things about my cheekbones and forearms) I get all of the girls…. Or I would get the girls if I wanted them.
All I know is that the rival quarterback has one more valentine from a secret admirer in *his* mailbox today. All I dream about is that one of my secret admirers is secretly *him*.
Horses and sweat on an old country road. The cattle are restless, but maybe it’s just the storm that’s brewing on the eastern horizon. Someone is shouting in the distance.
There was a swell of sound, almost stampede-like in its force. She shut her eyes, shielding her face. There were some things better not seen.
i run amongst the elephants
and the wild beasts
There’s a long road ahead, split in two.
The sign reads “Make a choice”; I look to my left and look to my right.
I’m reminded of “Alice in the wonderland”- you know the scene with the twins;
one tells only lies and the other only truths–sad thing I can’t remember which road lead to truth and I’m back to staring at the sign…I hear a noise to my left, but somehow look to my right and there I see it a stampede of beauty and wonder heading my way. My eyes turn into hearts and body mush, so I turn around and take the left exit, because an illusion of beauty that perfect is ALWAYS a lie…
The grey wrinkles hurtle; the herd’s on the move. The sheer force of ivory would puncture my ribs, then puncturing my organs, leaving me to smear into in-existence, or wedge itself through my front and back, until I was pitchforked like sweet hay.
let’s rage across this earth, stomping on things we can’t see or feel or even know.
an ant may have bitten me today.
perhaps he was raging across my earth.
i don’t know because i am a juggernaut.
I wish that this word made a rush of thoughts come to my head, a stampede of ideas, a wave of wishes and dreams that could easily be transformed into beautiful literature.
But it doesn’t.
So I’ll just write about the feeling of disappointment I have right now, and wait for tomorrow.
Beat for beat, synchronicity, rhythm, ambiance, echo, diffusion, layers, pitches, shift, narrative, transience, brevity, entropy, renewal, catalyst, repetition.
soon you’ll disappear and you’ll have face them
no matter how invisible you think you are your fear won’t
help you evade them
if you manage to escape like a rock you’ll be forever frozen
but you’ll never escape earth’s erosion
there’s no use in hiding
run, run deep into the woods and wait for the foot soldiers
a stampede will devour your insides
it’s a part of corrosion
swim, swim further down into the ocean
pursue you they will, no matter the sacrifice
they’re here to wage a war against your nature
they want to know if you can fight back
will the curvature of your spin change
will it reverberate
they’re here to spill your blood, find out what you lack
there’s no need to capture you or your body
your anatomy they don’t desire
they want your mind and your thoughts
after all you’re a liar
listen close you might her them sing
a story they’ll tell, but you won’t hear the ending
the choir will know but you will continue guessing
“im here to devour you, what will you do
run, swim, crawl, walk it won’t make a difference
i’ll find you, i’ll hunt you
i’ll mask myself as more than an acquaintance”
has it ever occurred to you that what im saying might all be nonsense
i stay because i want to be a part of it all when it collapses
before i knew it i was surrounded by a stampede of so many bikes and cars that i had never seen before, models of cars yet unseen by the human race were now surrounding my cold, wet, body. moonlight was peeking in from the overhanging trees and the hot putrid smell of burning gasoline was penetrating the air and anywhere else it could get, including my lungs. i coughed several times, desperately trying to rid my lungs of the smoke that was slowly filling them, but soon enough the breath had left me. there were voices around me, faint voices, saying words in a language i did not recognize, the sounds growing farther and farther away. i feel my eyes begin to droop and i crumble to the floor, my last thought slowly dissipating from the psyche as my conscience drifts to the brink of no return. at long last, a sense of peace spreading throughout my body put every trouble, emotion, and worry to rest.
There was a stampede once the gates opened. Five hours of waiting had robbed most of the people of their dignity, their patience, and their sense of propriety. And the show had yet to begin!
The running of bulls may as well have been a stampede of them.
My thoughts were hardly on the spectacle, the show.
It was him. Chaos all around and yet that man was on my mind again.
The gate that was her composure budged just a little. Just enough to let one small thought out from its confines, through her mind and out her mouth.
“Why not?” slipped quietly through her lips as he walked away. She fell to her knees.
Not to be left behind, the gate was forced wider open as feelings and thoughts, bound by ‘composure’ for so long, tried to set themselves free. A regret broke free, and escaped in a tear. A memory. A fear. Suddenly, a stampede of suppressed sadness burst from behind the wall that was her usual forced smile and streamed down her cheeks.
There was a stampede of humans running through the street. Red, deep, dark red was splattered on the white shirts of foreigners and Spaniards. It was La Tomatina, a festival notorious of the world. They were running faster and faster until all of the sudden there was a shout from a window above…
He approached her in a stampede of feet and arms, swooping her up into an tight embrace, promising to never let go and left in a cloud of dust and dirt.
hooves.
so many hooves
pressing me to the ground
into the ground
one with the ground.
I didn’t see it coming. It was just a thump thump thump in my chest-a shaking in my limbs. I clenched my jaw against the chatter. I felt the wave before it hit me, inhaled the smoke before the fire caught. I wasn’t ready for the pain, but it hit me like a stamapede.
the stampede of her heart raced through her body and into his. She felt his repeat the same movements, to the same pace. Pain and pleasure ringing every nook and cranny and their bodies molded into each other.
She turned around and realized where she was. She was dead in the middle of the woods. Why am I here? There was a stampede of thoughts flowing through her head. She was trying to figure out why she was in the woods. Did she run away from the one girl she dared to love? Or did she run away from her feelings?
a large group of animals or people running in union for example the wildabeasts in the Lion King it often kills anything in its path and is destructive
Animals can stampede
people can get hurt in stampede
the running with the bulls in Spain is a stampede
you can stampede onto courts and fields after winning a game
truth glides
fearful calm
slow seductive
lips
panicked words
rush out- wild
small feet move quickly
stifle trample dust
The stampede of bulls rushed towards me. Trusty dogs circled the larger bulls with the loudness of a dying whale’s swan song.
But, alas, some of us, didn’t come out.
Among them was me.
The elephants came running towards me; I began to scream. I attempted to woo them with the bag of peanuts I’d acquired from the cinema, but to no avail. They were angry, they were frightened. I too was frightened. It made me worried. Why were they running? The true mystery.
“IT”S ANOTHER STAMPEDE!!!!!? THE ZEBRAS ARE AT IT AGAIN THEY ARE GOING TO TRAMPLE THAT POOR IMAGINARY CUB!” I screamed as I ran from the barn. Me and sister Claire were playing pretend once again. We always love to laugh and joke about living in a world were it was just us and wild animals and that seeing stampede of zebras was a regular thing. “Alrighhttt thats ENOUGH! I AM STARVING BEATRICE!” Claire said. (We had mac&cheese waiting in the oven.) “Seriously, Clai all you care about is food!” I said defiantly. We raced each other inside the farmhouse and gathered around the table with the rest of our family. We have tons of little sisters…all younger than the age of 11. It’s very loud and mac&cheese is a favorite of the bunch. “It was good we got in early”…I whispered to Claire because our little sisters reminded me of a rather squeaky but cute stampede.
it was when i opened my eyes to hear you breathing next to me. it was when you turned over in sleep and held on to me. night terrors or the physical memory of me; it was simply when you held me close. claimed me for yourself.
When all the bulls come running after you and you have no clue where to turn, you have no chance of escape, and no chance of getting away without injury. You stand alone in the midst of terrifying impossible odds. Overcoming the sure scenario seems insurmountable.
Here it comes, the river of dust that rises higher and higher with every thud. Louder, closer, I fear for my life. The are only a few miles away, but my heart races. Thud, thud, thud, the stomping gets faster and my heart beat catches up.
Pressure stampedes on my psyche, as I recover from a day filled with self-doubt. Am I worthy? Am I good? It’s like a culture-shock; yesterday I was good enough for the world, today, I am not sure. The agonizing affect of doubt.
I could feel the thunder shaking the ground. “Mama! They’re coming!” I screamed.
The bulls burst through the gates, trampling everything and everyone not clinging for dear life against the fences on the far sides. A child ahead dropped something into the road directly in front of the raging stampede, and watched in horror as whatever toy they cherished was dragged out, stamped out into something three times its original size. I watched the child’s face from the other side of the fence, and saw my lover’s eyes as I told her where I was going, and where I intended to stay as either a beating heart or a lost soul. One more moment’s glance, and I jumped off of the fence, running with the crowd.