I was born and raised on Staten Island. When I was eleven I was in middle school, and began hearing about an attack on the “World Trade Center” I didn’t know where or what it was, but I knew it was a big deal. When I had come home that night, I remember seeing my dad show me the smoke that hovered over the Hudson river. I will remember the smoke forever.
a tower is used to transfer electricity.A tower is also of historical signifinace like the leaning tower of pisa.towers are of vast importance.towers were built history to write scriopts
There was a man who lived on a tall tower held by short wooden legs. His name was Song and he had no voice. He slept sideways in hopes that he would wake up straight. His hair was longer than his body and he would wrap it around his head to create shade for his eyes when the sun wouldn’t let him sleep.
I see it in the distance, no matter how far I travel. It looms above me, so far away. I wonder what waits there, but I’ll never find out. It’s to far away, to high to reach.
After her husband died, Bob was a tower of strength. Her children were well cared for. The pets were fed. Life carried on but inside her heart, she was grieving. She missed her husband. He went so suddenly – in a flash.
The tower of playing cards increased with every second. Just five more minutes and somebody will blow them down. Simon reached for the last card. Suddenly a gush of wind came through the sash window. Simon froze as his tower of 88 cards collapsed in front of him.
As Jim got closer to the tower he felt that somebody was behind him. It was a very dark night and he dared to look back. He heard distinct footsteps, very even, like the person was wearing slippers. He was about to scream when a black car with dark windows stopped suddenly in front of him.
it wasn’t much but it had haunted her ever since her childhood, if she wasn’t mistaken it had not been cleaned since the incident. she crept in the back door to see what she could find, a momentum prehaps.
alice is someone to admire but i think she is fataly flawed. people write about her more than i ever knew and it is hard to get to grips with deleuze but what can you do eh? i will crack on and hopefully something of worth will come of it.
the tower came and knocked the shit out of me. i hate that fuckin tart card and it sure was right. man left me one week later, like a bolt out of nowhere. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him like poison. may he rot in hell and never eat chicken soup again
I live on Tower Avenue with my great-grandma. It’s the busiest street in my town, and she always has something to say about the cars with rib-rattling bass pounding, or the teenage mothers walking by. Little does she know is that I most likely am aquainted with these “public enemies” and they are not bad people! But I will let her say what she has to say. After all, she is…82.
The tower stood off in the distance away from the town. Its ominous glow torturing the souls that got too close to it. There was something wrong, but what? No one had yet figured out who or what had caused the disturbance.
The water tower loomed above me. It looked taller from here at the base, but I was determined. I was going to make a name for myself by climbing to the top and tying my bandana onto the lightning rod there. No one would call me chicken ever again.
There is a tower. It is green. And silver. And it is where i keep my emotions locked so far away from everyone they can never see who i am. Isn’t that a fun way to live?
A tower is where you lock up princesses in the fairytales….or at least Rupunzel. It’s real tall, cuz it ‘towers’ over everything. And it’s 5 letters long. ;)
princesses are kept in high towers, close to the sky and distant from the world the rest of us know. they feel special, in some respect, for they are with the birds and the clouds and few others are, but they are lonely, so, so lonely…
i don’t like towers. they block you out and make me feel isolated. that’s why i love the countryside, everything’s so widely spread and pretty. no gigantic buildings towering over you, just space. i like space, you can think and think and think.
lots of brick walls and mosses, cold air and slight breeze as if coming from the blue sky itself. The quiet chirpings of the birds, and the silence, the silence that goes back to ancient times
the towering figure of hoover tower laughs at me as I try again and again to write my essay on the dead philosophers- all I need is that one sentence to start it off and I don’t know what I can’t get it out.
The Ruby Tower blocked had to be destroyed. A dozen men watched with hard white hats. A man in a silver suit reached forward and pulled a lever. There was a ripple of dust, then smoke and a big bang as the famous Ruby Tower exploded. It toppled like an old African elephant then came crashing down, with an enormous roar.
I’m only a small thing. She was towering over me, blocking out the sunlight. Her silhouette made her look even more frightening than usual. She raised her foot, ready to stamp on me.
‘No, please, I did nothing wrong!’
STAMP!
“Jump”! howled the crowd. The harness was in place, so secure, Colin made extra sure. Leo would jump from the local tower block for charity. All his neighbours and best friends had gathered. A camera crew, the local bobbies, firemen and of course an ambulance. After the third “Jump”! Leo pitched himself into the air, shouting, “Yes”!
She looked down. The army stood there, waiting for instruction. The world seemed so still. What could she do? All this fighting, hatred. No, it had to come to an end. At long last, it will!
eiffel tower is such a beautiful structure. it is the symbol of france. i just want to go there once amd see the whole paris from the top of the eiffel tower.
The tower block option was a way to get away from Brad. If he wanted to follow her? She packed her suitcase and escaped. The flat was so small. She rammed her stuff in the hall and found the kitchen, enough room to fit half of her body and she was a big woman.
The tower block worried her. She lived too high up. On the top floor. If she goes out on the roof, she could be swept over the top if there was a high wind. It was cheap and she liked heights, but she was pretending.
She took the lift to the top of the tower block and locked down. Eternity stood before her. Was she about to jump? A black cat meowed at her from a three storey house. It was about to rain. A dozen thoughts entered her mind. The paramedics would wonder why she jumped when she was in perfect health.
London is a city of Tower Blocks. If you live on the 15th floor, the absolute sway if you stand at the very top, looking across miles of houses, other tower blocks; somebody using a high powered binoculars catches you in his vision.
In the Hollywood Blockbuster, Gone With The Wind, Rhett towered over Scarlet. The whole audience waited for the big kiss. I sat in the front row waiting for the “Ahhh….”. I buried my face in my hands and almost missed the kiss.
I love the story of Rapunzel in The Ivory Tower. She’s trapped in that tower and when the prince comes along, she throws down her long blonde hair. Long hair. Imagine having hair that long? My hairdressing bill will cost a fortune.
She fell from the tower like an eagle. Nobody saw her jump but I heard the sad news. To jump into mid-air, like a bungee jump or was it a suicide? Life is so precious. Why dive into mid-air without a parachute?
A mideval structure which was used for alerting of enemies firing arrows or as jails. sometimes they even were areas for royalty etc.
I was born and raised on Staten Island. When I was eleven I was in middle school, and began hearing about an attack on the “World Trade Center” I didn’t know where or what it was, but I knew it was a big deal. When I had come home that night, I remember seeing my dad show me the smoke that hovered over the Hudson river. I will remember the smoke forever.
Eigentlich waren es zwei, jetzt ist’s keiner. Aber jeder wei
a tower is used to transfer electricity.A tower is also of historical signifinace like the leaning tower of pisa.towers are of vast importance.towers were built history to write scriopts
There was a man who lived on a tall tower held by short wooden legs. His name was Song and he had no voice. He slept sideways in hopes that he would wake up straight. His hair was longer than his body and he would wrap it around his head to create shade for his eyes when the sun wouldn’t let him sleep.
The tower stood, looming over the white washed landscape they called home. No one knew what stood within it, but they all knew what it stood for.
I see it in the distance, no matter how far I travel. It looms above me, so far away. I wonder what waits there, but I’ll never find out. It’s to far away, to high to reach.
After her husband died, Bob was a tower of strength. Her children were well cared for. The pets were fed. Life carried on but inside her heart, she was grieving. She missed her husband. He went so suddenly – in a flash.
The tower of playing cards increased with every second. Just five more minutes and somebody will blow them down. Simon reached for the last card. Suddenly a gush of wind came through the sash window. Simon froze as his tower of 88 cards collapsed in front of him.
As Jim got closer to the tower he felt that somebody was behind him. It was a very dark night and he dared to look back. He heard distinct footsteps, very even, like the person was wearing slippers. He was about to scream when a black car with dark windows stopped suddenly in front of him.
it wasn’t much but it had haunted her ever since her childhood, if she wasn’t mistaken it had not been cleaned since the incident. she crept in the back door to see what she could find, a momentum prehaps.
alice is someone to admire but i think she is fataly flawed. people write about her more than i ever knew and it is hard to get to grips with deleuze but what can you do eh? i will crack on and hopefully something of worth will come of it.
the tower came and knocked the shit out of me. i hate that fuckin tart card and it sure was right. man left me one week later, like a bolt out of nowhere. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him like poison. may he rot in hell and never eat chicken soup again
I live on Tower Avenue with my great-grandma. It’s the busiest street in my town, and she always has something to say about the cars with rib-rattling bass pounding, or the teenage mothers walking by. Little does she know is that I most likely am aquainted with these “public enemies” and they are not bad people! But I will let her say what she has to say. After all, she is…82.
The tower stood off in the distance away from the town. Its ominous glow torturing the souls that got too close to it. There was something wrong, but what? No one had yet figured out who or what had caused the disturbance.
The water tower loomed above me. It looked taller from here at the base, but I was determined. I was going to make a name for myself by climbing to the top and tying my bandana onto the lightning rod there. No one would call me chicken ever again.
There is a tower. It is green. And silver. And it is where i keep my emotions locked so far away from everyone they can never see who i am. Isn’t that a fun way to live?
tower of strength. pseudo feminist all-girls catholic highschool bullshit. i weren’t no tower. some crumbling butress, maybe.
A tower is where you lock up princesses in the fairytales….or at least Rupunzel. It’s real tall, cuz it ‘towers’ over everything. And it’s 5 letters long. ;)
princesses are kept in high towers, close to the sky and distant from the world the rest of us know. they feel special, in some respect, for they are with the birds and the clouds and few others are, but they are lonely, so, so lonely…
i don’t like towers. they block you out and make me feel isolated. that’s why i love the countryside, everything’s so widely spread and pretty. no gigantic buildings towering over you, just space. i like space, you can think and think and think.
in the moment of epiphany one looks up at the sky and tears crawl out of the glassy eyes, rapturously
so typical
yet never lasting
I want my kicks when I lie in bed, to get me up and going.
I create, and I am.
in the darkness of the night only neon lamps mark up the space, like dots in my sentences. the looming day only depresses, and the writer is cramped.
lots of brick walls and mosses, cold air and slight breeze as if coming from the blue sky itself. The quiet chirpings of the birds, and the silence, the silence that goes back to ancient times
they stared at each other, as the man with his legs off the ground hovered over them.
the question was ‘why?’
and they could not answer it.
the towering figure of hoover tower laughs at me as I try again and again to write my essay on the dead philosophers- all I need is that one sentence to start it off and I don’t know what I can’t get it out.
The Ruby Tower blocked had to be destroyed. A dozen men watched with hard white hats. A man in a silver suit reached forward and pulled a lever. There was a ripple of dust, then smoke and a big bang as the famous Ruby Tower exploded. It toppled like an old African elephant then came crashing down, with an enormous roar.
I’m only a small thing. She was towering over me, blocking out the sunlight. Her silhouette made her look even more frightening than usual. She raised her foot, ready to stamp on me.
‘No, please, I did nothing wrong!’
STAMP!
“Jump”! howled the crowd. The harness was in place, so secure, Colin made extra sure. Leo would jump from the local tower block for charity. All his neighbours and best friends had gathered. A camera crew, the local bobbies, firemen and of course an ambulance. After the third “Jump”! Leo pitched himself into the air, shouting, “Yes”!
She looked down. The army stood there, waiting for instruction. The world seemed so still. What could she do? All this fighting, hatred. No, it had to come to an end. At long last, it will!
eiffel tower is such a beautiful structure. it is the symbol of france. i just want to go there once amd see the whole paris from the top of the eiffel tower.
The tower block option was a way to get away from Brad. If he wanted to follow her? She packed her suitcase and escaped. The flat was so small. She rammed her stuff in the hall and found the kitchen, enough room to fit half of her body and she was a big woman.
The tower block worried her. She lived too high up. On the top floor. If she goes out on the roof, she could be swept over the top if there was a high wind. It was cheap and she liked heights, but she was pretending.
She took the lift to the top of the tower block and locked down. Eternity stood before her. Was she about to jump? A black cat meowed at her from a three storey house. It was about to rain. A dozen thoughts entered her mind. The paramedics would wonder why she jumped when she was in perfect health.
London is a city of Tower Blocks. If you live on the 15th floor, the absolute sway if you stand at the very top, looking across miles of houses, other tower blocks; somebody using a high powered binoculars catches you in his vision.
In the Hollywood Blockbuster, Gone With The Wind, Rhett towered over Scarlet. The whole audience waited for the big kiss. I sat in the front row waiting for the “Ahhh….”. I buried my face in my hands and almost missed the kiss.
i use towers for antenna’s because i am a ham operator.i am vop 6955! i am 52 year’s old.
I love the story of Rapunzel in The Ivory Tower. She’s trapped in that tower and when the prince comes along, she throws down her long blonde hair. Long hair. Imagine having hair that long? My hairdressing bill will cost a fortune.
She fell from the tower like an eagle. Nobody saw her jump but I heard the sad news. To jump into mid-air, like a bungee jump or was it a suicide? Life is so precious. Why dive into mid-air without a parachute?
There are some monuments in this world which will be fondly remembered. Towers, especially. We’ve read about them in fairy tales and whatnot.