Miles under the ocean, in the Mariana Trench, laid the lair of Dr. Octogenarian, building his machine for world domination. It was the Thirstomator, which would drink all the waters of all the seas, turning the planet into a barren wasteland. When the United Nations refused to bow to his demands of six hundred billion dollars and a pony — in fact, they threw out his request form without reading it — he turned on the machine, bellowing his nefarious laugh. The machine whirred and clanged and began its evil process. After a few sips however, the machine had to pee …
i was under the impression that the ceiling would collapse at any minute now. You continued speaking, saying things that at this point were completely unnecessary. The damage was done. There was no need to say more. But i studied your lips as they moved, and your hands as they gestured frantically, and all i could think of, was how foreign this all seemed. As if i were seeing this from somewhere above, out of reach, when the truth is,
i’m
really
under.
the chair there lived a mouse with a hat on. it kept falling off so he tied it on with a string but the string got caught in the chair leg and now he’s hanging under the chair.
the sea is where the demons go to flee from the panic inducing sunlight. The sunlight that fills the warm hearts of children. But these creatures are neither children nor warm. Their cold souls allow for no mercy or compassion.
Working through the problem, I realized that the answer was right under my nose. Why didn’t I see this sooner? Well that was easy; I was too caught up in my situation that I paid no attention on how to solve it in the first place.
under my skin is a deep dark secret. no one is prepared. i have to stay away and never let it revealed. but its not a sad thing. its happy. look at how beautiful the sky is :) :) i love today!!
Under. Up. Undulate. Apostrophe interjects… possession.
Under neath each man’s basic skin tautly held is
the need or desire to possess, to hold tight and
not let go and I wonder, sometimes… how I got
myself underneath that thumbprint in the first place. Under.
Is there some kind of reality underneath what we normally see? Whats really going on and how do we find out?
These questions have permeated life since the beginning of time but we’re beginning to find out real answers, the new question becomes: “Why should we care?”.
I went under the bed and found that there wasn’t anything left in the bag of halloween candy that i had left over from October. Sometimes when my mother would get mad at me i would sneak down there and shove about 45 snickers into my mouth. I’d sit under my bed chewing and chewing and chewing until my jaw would hurt.
under the bridge, thats where i found him. All sad and wet, the little fella. Cute, but not to be trusted. I mean for a pair of underpants, he surelly had an attitude. I mean, this was my place to hide away from the eyes. I was told that sharing was a great thing to do, but it doesn’t feel so great to me. I prefered it when i was here alone, able to hide away without company. Its getting cold here, wonder if there is anything to wear around here?
Her eyes were underneath the couch. That was the first thing that the man noticed. They were peeking out from between the legs of it and watching him with their blue, blue gaze. He shuddered and tried to look away. His eyes were drawn to her head then, the eye sockets closed over and the mouth open wide in a horrified scream. Her tongue was gone as well.
I glance under the bed to be sure that nothing’s there. the closet’s shut tight. still, no sigh of relief come from between my lips. I know that monsters are real and they don’t always live under your bed or in your closet. They live in your heart and they feast on your soul; breaking you down with words. People are the most terrible monsters of all.
Under the water.
That where I was
I was panicking
I didn’t know what to do
But then I heard him call my name
all of a sudden I realized why I needed to fight
I had reason to live.
under ground under cover under the setting sun, you would want to run away from anything under the bridge but nothing is there and it seems as if tomorrow was only the tree bark fading fast, light glimmering off the sap dripping from its open bleeds, falling under the stars, feeling under the moon, trying to hard not to look at what matters.
I tried to catch my breath before I went under again, but I gulped water and began coughing underwater. Instinctively, I sucked in more. My situation was grave and I was panicing when I felt someone grab me by my hair and haul me to the surface.
Under the sea was a dark trench. It had forgotten just how long it had been there, always falling deeper and deeper into the earth. One time, a boat had crashed into his womb, until the narrow walls crushed it and all the lights were gone again.
So under that narled old tree stump where the spiders crept, where the wind lashed against the bare weathered roots, where people never dare to enter. Under there is where it lay… Deep deep under there…
“So, what happens under the rainbow?” Shannon asked reasonably as the “Wizard of Oz” credits rolled. “I mean if there’s all this awesome stuff that happens over it, something amazing ought to be under it. “I bet it’s treasure,” Timmy cried rocking his wheelchair to and fro. “No silly,” Shannon said as she picked up her brother to carry him to bed. “Treasure is always at the end of the rainbow.”
Under is what i loved to be with my first girlfriend. Under is is where my confidence was. Under is where all the secrets lie. Under is where you start to get over anything.
once again i look to see if there is really something under my bed. I sense it evey time. But theres never anything there. Maybe i should just stop looking but then thats probally when it will happen
Who lives under the sea? Sponge bob square pants! Lalala i’m going under, drowning you, i’m going under…
Under the stairs
Under the sky
Under the sea
Under everything
under the sea, under the surface…you don’t know a lot about a person because of what’s under the surface..always forgive and always consider what the person is actually trying to hide about themselves because they don’t want to get hurt.
Sometimes you lose something, and it ends up being under something else. People always say, “Oh! It’s in the last place you’ll look for it!” Well duh. Why would I keep looking after i’ve found what I was looking for? It was probably under the bed.
There was only so long she could keep her head up and she knew it. Wouldn’t be long now. Already she was failing. She’d stopped wasting her energy long ago. It was stretched out but pointlessly. There was no use fighting it. Her legs fail and the water is quick to suck her under. She manages to make it to the surface again but slips down all over. Only once more does she manage to rise up before she’s pulled towards the depths. Air rushing from her in exhaustion as defeat consumes her. She sinks further already forgotten from the world. She was down; she was under and there was no coming back.
under the weeping willow trees I lie there wondering i you still love me. I cana’t express the pain youhave caused me. all of the lies, tears, heartache and pain. HOW COUDL YOU. It hurt me to even see your name on facebook because I know you don;t feel the same about me as I feel about you. and you do not care or think of me as frewuently as I think of you. how dare you lead me on to thinking you loved me. then tell me I fell too hard for you..scum.
underground is the place to be. away from any hustle, and bustle, any activity, any nuisance, any outside nonsensical noise in your own peace. concentrating on your work. and focus on yourself. your soul. as it beams away brilliantly from underneath you.
Miles under the ocean, in the Mariana Trench, laid the lair of Dr. Octogenarian, building his machine for world domination. It was the Thirstomator, which would drink all the waters of all the seas, turning the planet into a barren wasteland. When the United Nations refused to bow to his demands of six hundred billion dollars and a pony — in fact, they threw out his request form without reading it — he turned on the machine, bellowing his nefarious laugh. The machine whirred and clanged and began its evil process. After a few sips however, the machine had to pee …
from under here i can’t see a thing. but maybe that’s for the best, can’t be anything pleasant to look at in this situation.
i was under the impression that the ceiling would collapse at any minute now. You continued speaking, saying things that at this point were completely unnecessary. The damage was done. There was no need to say more. But i studied your lips as they moved, and your hands as they gestured frantically, and all i could think of, was how foreign this all seemed. As if i were seeing this from somewhere above, out of reach, when the truth is,
i’m
really
under.
the chair there lived a mouse with a hat on. it kept falling off so he tied it on with a string but the string got caught in the chair leg and now he’s hanging under the chair.
the sea is where the demons go to flee from the panic inducing sunlight. The sunlight that fills the warm hearts of children. But these creatures are neither children nor warm. Their cold souls allow for no mercy or compassion.
I can’t be seen nor can I see others. I am hidden below the surface, six feet deeper. I like it here just because.
Working through the problem, I realized that the answer was right under my nose. Why didn’t I see this sooner? Well that was easy; I was too caught up in my situation that I paid no attention on how to solve it in the first place.
under my skin is a deep dark secret. no one is prepared. i have to stay away and never let it revealed. but its not a sad thing. its happy. look at how beautiful the sky is :) :) i love today!!
Under. Up. Undulate. Apostrophe interjects… possession.
Under neath each man’s basic skin tautly held is
the need or desire to possess, to hold tight and
not let go and I wonder, sometimes… how I got
myself underneath that thumbprint in the first place. Under.
Under is under is under is under is under. Under is over is under is over is under. Under.
Is there some kind of reality underneath what we normally see? Whats really going on and how do we find out?
These questions have permeated life since the beginning of time but we’re beginning to find out real answers, the new question becomes: “Why should we care?”.
I went under the bed and found that there wasn’t anything left in the bag of halloween candy that i had left over from October. Sometimes when my mother would get mad at me i would sneak down there and shove about 45 snickers into my mouth. I’d sit under my bed chewing and chewing and chewing until my jaw would hurt.
Under there!
Ha! Made you say “underwear”.
Sucker…
under the bridge, thats where i found him. All sad and wet, the little fella. Cute, but not to be trusted. I mean for a pair of underpants, he surelly had an attitude. I mean, this was my place to hide away from the eyes. I was told that sharing was a great thing to do, but it doesn’t feel so great to me. I prefered it when i was here alone, able to hide away without company. Its getting cold here, wonder if there is anything to wear around here?
Your toes dance on my skull. You skip, you step, you smile. You’re just verification, just the flesh that shrinks the walls and locks the cage.
Her eyes were underneath the couch. That was the first thing that the man noticed. They were peeking out from between the legs of it and watching him with their blue, blue gaze. He shuddered and tried to look away. His eyes were drawn to her head then, the eye sockets closed over and the mouth open wide in a horrified scream. Her tongue was gone as well.
like water underwaves, like heat under flames, like sky understars….i want to be….
Under my eyes.
The lines of black water.
Tried to paint brightly this time.
Seems vampire moon is up…
I glance under the bed to be sure that nothing’s there. the closet’s shut tight. still, no sigh of relief come from between my lips. I know that monsters are real and they don’t always live under your bed or in your closet. They live in your heart and they feast on your soul; breaking you down with words. People are the most terrible monsters of all.
Under the water.
That where I was
I was panicking
I didn’t know what to do
But then I heard him call my name
all of a sudden I realized why I needed to fight
I had reason to live.
under ground under cover under the setting sun, you would want to run away from anything under the bridge but nothing is there and it seems as if tomorrow was only the tree bark fading fast, light glimmering off the sap dripping from its open bleeds, falling under the stars, feeling under the moon, trying to hard not to look at what matters.
I tried to catch my breath before I went under again, but I gulped water and began coughing underwater. Instinctively, I sucked in more. My situation was grave and I was panicing when I felt someone grab me by my hair and haul me to the surface.
i dont understand what my underwear has to do with being underwater.
i WUD RATHER GO UNDERGROUND
how i feel when my internets down, or the cat throws up, or when i just can’t be bothered getting out of bed.
under the sea. or under the weather. Buried under a lot of things. keeping things buried inside? finding things under your bed you forgot about.
Under the sea was a dark trench. It had forgotten just how long it had been there, always falling deeper and deeper into the earth. One time, a boat had crashed into his womb, until the narrow walls crushed it and all the lights were gone again.
So under that narled old tree stump where the spiders crept, where the wind lashed against the bare weathered roots, where people never dare to enter. Under there is where it lay… Deep deep under there…
“So, what happens under the rainbow?” Shannon asked reasonably as the “Wizard of Oz” credits rolled. “I mean if there’s all this awesome stuff that happens over it, something amazing ought to be under it. “I bet it’s treasure,” Timmy cried rocking his wheelchair to and fro. “No silly,” Shannon said as she picked up her brother to carry him to bed. “Treasure is always at the end of the rainbow.”
Under is what i loved to be with my first girlfriend. Under is is where my confidence was. Under is where all the secrets lie. Under is where you start to get over anything.
Under: my shadow, stretching infinitely across the horizon, forever chasing the sun underneath my feet.
once again i look to see if there is really something under my bed. I sense it evey time. But theres never anything there. Maybe i should just stop looking but then thats probally when it will happen
Who lives under the sea? Sponge bob square pants! Lalala i’m going under, drowning you, i’m going under…
Under the stairs
Under the sky
Under the sea
Under everything
Do you come from a land down under? Thank you to my friend Spencer for introducing me to that song. It is his favorite song last time I checked.
under the sea, under the surface…you don’t know a lot about a person because of what’s under the surface..always forgive and always consider what the person is actually trying to hide about themselves because they don’t want to get hurt.
Sometimes you lose something, and it ends up being under something else. People always say, “Oh! It’s in the last place you’ll look for it!” Well duh. Why would I keep looking after i’ve found what I was looking for? It was probably under the bed.
There was only so long she could keep her head up and she knew it. Wouldn’t be long now. Already she was failing. She’d stopped wasting her energy long ago. It was stretched out but pointlessly. There was no use fighting it. Her legs fail and the water is quick to suck her under. She manages to make it to the surface again but slips down all over. Only once more does she manage to rise up before she’s pulled towards the depths. Air rushing from her in exhaustion as defeat consumes her. She sinks further already forgotten from the world. She was down; she was under and there was no coming back.
under the weeping willow trees I lie there wondering i you still love me. I cana’t express the pain youhave caused me. all of the lies, tears, heartache and pain. HOW COUDL YOU. It hurt me to even see your name on facebook because I know you don;t feel the same about me as I feel about you. and you do not care or think of me as frewuently as I think of you. how dare you lead me on to thinking you loved me. then tell me I fell too hard for you..scum.
Undernearth your clothes, there’s an endless story. There’s a man I chose, there’s my territory.
my experiences are under me as I move upward through time. It is nice, having something to stand on…
underground is the place to be. away from any hustle, and bustle, any activity, any nuisance, any outside nonsensical noise in your own peace. concentrating on your work. and focus on yourself. your soul. as it beams away brilliantly from underneath you.