After the explosion in Baltimore, the entire harbor seemed filmed with tarnish. The office buildings, the cruise ships, the pavilions. All the visitors with their strollers and wheelchairs frozen in time.
I’m glad I kept a journal while I was away, because without it I’m certain that the memories would be tarnished. They would be distorted by what is happening now and what is currently all around me, and I would believe them and despair and hate myself for having ever looked at life through such rose-colored glasses. But I kept a journal and I know what is real and what isn’t. And for once in my life, the reality really was more beautiful than I could have imagined it.
The spoon was tarnished as her soul. Now that’s a cliche. But cliches can be comforting, and the thought of his soul black as the old silver spoon was a comfort of a black sort.
It was rusty and the paint was chipping. She thought back to the day she received the bike. It was all she wanted for her Sixth birthday. Thing were so much simpler back then, when all she wanted was to feel the wind on her back.
Don’t ask. Real men are without blemish, while impostors are tarnished by their green. Can a man be called green and without blemish? Perish the thought, for when that day comes we will have become as dogs.
…on the other end of the Universe a character stood helpless. Watching from a spectral plane, it saw that a lady armed with a bottle of tarnix was about to “rub” it out of existence. Luckily, the character in question was a higher being. It knew that one death in someone’s imagination did not necessarily translate to the death of the overall being. “No,” the spectral character thought, “I’m just going to put on my coat and go for a walk now.”
Remake the splattlered heart, into a mended, tender one. After all that was said. After all that was done, you, tarnished my solidity, my center was elsewhere. No meals were the same. No sleep was enjoyed. For every lonely night, i cried in remembrence of how soft your skin felt when i lay against it; us laying together, we were like puzzle pieces, cuddling the worries away. And now its all gone. Everything. The deep laughs and soul to soul conversations about our pasts and inklings for the future. Gone. And all because you found, or thought you had found, someone better.
She could imagine what might have caused the blemish on the engraved bee plate, but she thought the spot on it gave it a bit of glamor, like a peck of character. She then got out the cleaner. Time to go spot, time to go. Elsewhere in the universe…
my entire relationship with my mother is tarnished over one stupid act. i wish i could take it back and none of this would have ever happened. my mother is still mad and needs to love me for me and not get mad at my stupid acts.
I try to be a good person, but it is so hard this day and age not to be tarnished by the world and society, the way things have changed since I was little is huge.
years have gone aray
lives have gone and come
tarnished are the days
litte hope for the simple some
misery come and go
happiness will never know
tarnished are the days
He leaves me on a shelf. Leaves me behind the glass, behind the vintage china. Sometimes he takes me out, remembers the days in the past, but he always puts me back because I am tarnished-just the way he left me. I am tarnished from disuse and I am worn from misuse and now I am tired, here, behind the vintage china on the wooden shelf. Shh, leave me here, for I am a distant memory of times in the past, never to be returned to my former radiance.
broken, ripped. it’s destroyed? how? we’ll never know. why? who cares? look at it. it’s warn out and unloved and no one wants it anymore. it’s tarnished.
glasses can be tarnished. tarnished things should be polished. like sliver. silver jewelary is pretty but not when it is tarnished. i’m thinking. uh oh. my brain is tarnished. ummmmmm bells are ringing. they can be tarnished. the 60 seconds is almost up. this sucks. i can do better than this
“ooh,”said ricky,looking directly at jessie as he quickly tranced toward her”did I tarnish your image,powerful girl?”he said picking her up with one claw
The silver in the drawer is tarnished when they find it. She hasn’t had time to polish it recently. Not with the food rations and the terror and the broken glass and yellow stars. When they came for her and her family, they were cowering in the corner like animals.
They dump the silver into a bag. An animal has no use for silver.
His reputation tarnished now he wondered what he would do from her eon out. He couldn’t help himself. It was there for the taking. It was just so appetizing but forbidden.
tarnished is when things are used. they’re old. they’ve been around the block, but aren’t necessarily used up. they’re still good, just a little bit beaten up. like people i guess? or an old couple’s wedding rings. still pretty but rough around the edges
and tattered! bruised and battered! battered chicken wing deluxe extra supreme yummo 5000 taste a thon. eat some chicken, tell some jokes, then die. that’s all. no more, no less, no coconut chest.
I think the worst part about ending on bad terms with someone, friend or significant other, is not the final fight and the fallout and all the bad experiences that happen then, but rather it’s how all the good memories you had turn dull and dirty. Good memories are important but if they’re tarnished by anger and hurt and betrayal they’re about as pleasant as rusty silverware.
tarnished. well gee whiz. the first thing i think of is a tarnished image. such as many people images are tarnished from the drunken festivities of last time. tarnished, not necessarily ruined, just a little bit, well, dirtied. which makes me think of the garbage monster from sesame street. i don’t even know if that’s his name but i feel like it’s not.
wooden floors. i really want some in my house. i like the noise they make when you step on them, i also like the classy look it gives off. it just looks sophisticated and formal. also easier to clean. i just love wooden floors
i dont understand it
it sounds like tanning oig
but tornasol
and ashamed
complicates like youre embarrassed an i dont want you to feel embarrassed
you are the thing
do never fell like that
love
The silver had been put away in the closet for so many years that the fact that it was tarnished was the least of its tales. It had never been in the china cabinet, where it could be seen by visitors, because there were no visitors. Jackie had not had anyone, not even a repairman, inside her house for more than a decade. And she liked it that way. The silver be damned.
tarnished is the spoons in my grandmother’s antique walnut cupboard with a glass front, left to gather dust in a corner of my second cousin’s basement after she passed away twenty years ago.
After the explosion in Baltimore, the entire harbor seemed filmed with tarnish. The office buildings, the cruise ships, the pavilions. All the visitors with their strollers and wheelchairs frozen in time.
i feel tarnished after working so much and always waiting for you
I’m glad I kept a journal while I was away, because without it I’m certain that the memories would be tarnished. They would be distorted by what is happening now and what is currently all around me, and I would believe them and despair and hate myself for having ever looked at life through such rose-colored glasses. But I kept a journal and I know what is real and what isn’t. And for once in my life, the reality really was more beautiful than I could have imagined it.
It was a tarnished old spoon sitting there in the corner of the room. I thought to myself how I am tarnished to. Old and dull l sit and wonder.
A smear, a smudge of thick black. Tiny bubbles, but the worst imperfections.
A dirty child with a dirty face, heart held together by sellotape. Finger marks and scratches.
Wash me clean, I didn’t ask for this.
No-one is untarnished.
the spoon was blackened with tarnish, tarnished beyond recognition of the silver beneath.
The spoon was tarnished as her soul. Now that’s a cliche. But cliches can be comforting, and the thought of his soul black as the old silver spoon was a comfort of a black sort.
It was rusty and the paint was chipping. She thought back to the day she received the bike. It was all she wanted for her Sixth birthday. Thing were so much simpler back then, when all she wanted was to feel the wind on her back.
Don’t ask. Real men are without blemish, while impostors are tarnished by their green. Can a man be called green and without blemish? Perish the thought, for when that day comes we will have become as dogs.
…on the other end of the Universe a character stood helpless. Watching from a spectral plane, it saw that a lady armed with a bottle of tarnix was about to “rub” it out of existence. Luckily, the character in question was a higher being. It knew that one death in someone’s imagination did not necessarily translate to the death of the overall being. “No,” the spectral character thought, “I’m just going to put on my coat and go for a walk now.”
My feet were tarnished with the shit from my neighbors dog.
Remake the splattlered heart, into a mended, tender one. After all that was said. After all that was done, you, tarnished my solidity, my center was elsewhere. No meals were the same. No sleep was enjoyed. For every lonely night, i cried in remembrence of how soft your skin felt when i lay against it; us laying together, we were like puzzle pieces, cuddling the worries away. And now its all gone. Everything. The deep laughs and soul to soul conversations about our pasts and inklings for the future. Gone. And all because you found, or thought you had found, someone better.
She could imagine what might have caused the blemish on the engraved bee plate, but she thought the spot on it gave it a bit of glamor, like a peck of character. She then got out the cleaner. Time to go spot, time to go. Elsewhere in the universe…
my entire relationship with my mother is tarnished over one stupid act. i wish i could take it back and none of this would have ever happened. my mother is still mad and needs to love me for me and not get mad at my stupid acts.
Polishing silver always felt a little naughty. Like you were removing something in layers. Those worn-in spots were there for a reason.
I try to be a good person, but it is so hard this day and age not to be tarnished by the world and society, the way things have changed since I was little is huge.
His face blanched when I said this. I guess he had hoped I wouldn’t notice.
“Please…” he stuttered, “Don’t pursue this.”
“What? Will your reputation as a spirit guide be tarnished?”
“There is much more at stake than that. I am here to advise and to offer companionship. I cannot TELL you anything. Now, please drop it.”
“Or what?”
“Or I will have to leave. Then you will TRULY be alone.”
all i have left was just this little cube of colour. once it was clean, proper but now it is tarnished, Ruined by the passage of time.
years have gone aray
lives have gone and come
tarnished are the days
litte hope for the simple some
misery come and go
happiness will never know
tarnished are the days
He leaves me on a shelf. Leaves me behind the glass, behind the vintage china. Sometimes he takes me out, remembers the days in the past, but he always puts me back because I am tarnished-just the way he left me. I am tarnished from disuse and I am worn from misuse and now I am tired, here, behind the vintage china on the wooden shelf. Shh, leave me here, for I am a distant memory of times in the past, never to be returned to my former radiance.
broken, ripped. it’s destroyed? how? we’ll never know. why? who cares? look at it. it’s warn out and unloved and no one wants it anymore. it’s tarnished.
glasses can be tarnished. tarnished things should be polished. like sliver. silver jewelary is pretty but not when it is tarnished. i’m thinking. uh oh. my brain is tarnished. ummmmmm bells are ringing. they can be tarnished. the 60 seconds is almost up. this sucks. i can do better than this
“ooh,”said ricky,looking directly at jessie as he quickly tranced toward her”did I tarnish your image,powerful girl?”he said picking her up with one claw
The silver in the drawer is tarnished when they find it. She hasn’t had time to polish it recently. Not with the food rations and the terror and the broken glass and yellow stars. When they came for her and her family, they were cowering in the corner like animals.
They dump the silver into a bag. An animal has no use for silver.
His reputation tarnished now he wondered what he would do from her eon out. He couldn’t help himself. It was there for the taking. It was just so appetizing but forbidden.
It made his mouth water.
Damn loving bacon and being a muslim sucks.
tarnished is when things are used. they’re old. they’ve been around the block, but aren’t necessarily used up. they’re still good, just a little bit beaten up. like people i guess? or an old couple’s wedding rings. still pretty but rough around the edges
and tattered! bruised and battered! battered chicken wing deluxe extra supreme yummo 5000 taste a thon. eat some chicken, tell some jokes, then die. that’s all. no more, no less, no coconut chest.
Stop pushing me, i don’t like this word.
It sounds like wood.
The end.
Tarnished. Humans are tarnished, just like the real silverware at Christmas. Just like your favorite earrings. They’re not perfect at all.
i already did this word.
I think the worst part about ending on bad terms with someone, friend or significant other, is not the final fight and the fallout and all the bad experiences that happen then, but rather it’s how all the good memories you had turn dull and dirty. Good memories are important but if they’re tarnished by anger and hurt and betrayal they’re about as pleasant as rusty silverware.
Reputation tarnished? UM thats the only expression ive ever heard with that word in it. . . Yeah .. I love The Beatles :D … Fail.
tarnished. well gee whiz. the first thing i think of is a tarnished image. such as many people images are tarnished from the drunken festivities of last time. tarnished, not necessarily ruined, just a little bit, well, dirtied. which makes me think of the garbage monster from sesame street. i don’t even know if that’s his name but i feel like it’s not.
wooden floors. i really want some in my house. i like the noise they make when you step on them, i also like the classy look it gives off. it just looks sophisticated and formal. also easier to clean. i just love wooden floors
This tarnished silver pitchfork was the devil’s plaything.
The devil being my brother, of course.
“This is what’s best for Alteralatus, Aezen. My country comes before my family.”
I closed my eyes and waited for the impact.
Tarnished…. When a pot gets rusty? Um, I really don’t know much about “tarnish.”It can be cleaned off metal with tomato juice.
i dont understand it
it sounds like tanning oig
but tornasol
and ashamed
complicates like youre embarrassed an i dont want you to feel embarrassed
you are the thing
do never fell like that
love
The silver had been put away in the closet for so many years that the fact that it was tarnished was the least of its tales. It had never been in the china cabinet, where it could be seen by visitors, because there were no visitors. Jackie had not had anyone, not even a repairman, inside her house for more than a decade. And she liked it that way. The silver be damned.
tarnished is the spoons in my grandmother’s antique walnut cupboard with a glass front, left to gather dust in a corner of my second cousin’s basement after she passed away twenty years ago.
tarnished pennies
tarnished sterling silver tea set
tarnished reputation
tarnished love
tarnished yet lovable