sunday nights are meant for getting things back to the starting line. To sharpen the dulled pencils, tweeze eyebrows and fool-proof the next seven days. Sweep up on the trails of the mess the tornado of last week is leaving. I’m turning circles around my bedroom with hawk eyes, that I must have borrowed them from someone else. Nothing can be unkempt, or the week ahead, staring me down, will be released wild, dragging me down with it.
He was from the Dominican Republic. 16 when they first signed him. Hammered it to all sides of the field and could lay line drives up the middle with any swing. Beautiful swing he had. I don’t know what all happened between then and now but he’s been sitting in a cell at State for two years no biding his time.
My promiscuous roommate : not really that pretty but willing to go the extra mile made the boys come a runnin. Her hair , after a blasting night of unadulterated fun : in the morning could make a train run off its tracks. It was the most unkempt and disarrayed showcase that sat upon her little head . I ask her , “what the hell did you do last night ? ” She bites into her gloomy looking banana that she has been just mindlessly holding for about 5 minutes before she realizes it is even in her hand . She shrugs and gets that little crocked ,mischievous smile she tends to get after writing on a public bathroom wall or flirting with the mail man who cannot speak a lick of English . ” WHo knows ” , she says …..
If only , I too , could be a little unkempt ….I might just have more to write about ….
A baggy sweatshirt and jeans…unkempt hair, no makeup. That’s what she liked though. She never found it necessary to have to be something she’s not. Isn’t that what life is supposed to be? You should never be afraid to look like a mess, wear what you want, feel whatever you feel like feeling. Don’t worry about all the structure, JUST LIVE.
She’s walked in the room hair flying and seemingly unkempt. Her face was the definition of chaos, her mouth set in a line of determination, her body tense and ready to go. Times like these, the most hectic, the most stressful are the times that her true ability and confidence comes out. It’s not all about appearance; it’s about the inner strength and power.
Her hair was greasy, unkempt. She had a way of bringing up in conversation that she was a bohemian, a free spirit. Personally, I believe that anyone who claims to be a free spirit is more trapped in that conviction that anyone else.
My hair always seems to be unkempt no matter how often I attempt to tame it. It’s just in the nature of some things to be free, wild, screaming and running from those chasing them.
My hair was unkempt, but I walked out of the bathroom anyways, grabbed my backpack and headed for the door, grabbing a banana on the way. I saw the schoolbus from my driveway as I made my way to the bus stop down the road. As it stopped, I realized my mom wouldn’t be able to drive me if I missed it. I began to run.
they rolled down the hills
and unfurled their unkempt hearts
to see what was left sticking there.
sometimes a scrap of happiness,
sometimes a small sharp pain.
the bermuda sometimes punctured our shirts
and we looked like the depraved
when really we were the opposite.
the room was trashed. years of deterioration had taken its toll on this single room that sat high above four stories of other similar rooms. My hands were cold, as I exhaled into the numb fingertips.
He is wild, courageous, adventurous. This is his beauty, his hair tattered and rugged, a tale of many mountains sides rummaged and rested on. His face is oft unkempt, deep, an abundance of riveting tales told by just the glance of his eyes. Unkempt is his style, for his greatest pursuit is a relationship with wildest of Kings.
You draw the blinds and I fall into you. I kiss what is left of us, and give you a pat on the back. Good job. Nice run. Good plays. Let’s box it all up and do it again next week, next month, next year. There’s something comforting about the mess, about the way you left me. Something nice in the fact that we can never see it be this way again. Folds will fall into folds and dust will compile onto dust, and there will be nothing but neatness if we continue on this way. There is stubble around your smile. There is a greased slickness to you while we say, we can shower later, the game is on.
I ran the comb through my hair and turned to my sister Trina, who was sitting on the couch playing a game. I sighed, walked over and shook her. “How do I look, Treen? I wanna be presentable enough for my date.”
She looked up at me and blinked. “You look unkempt, if you ask me.”
I rolled my eyes. She always did whatever she could to annoy me. “Do you even know what that word means?”
She shook her head and shrugged, turning her attention back to her phone. I groaned and hit her with a couch pillow. “You are impossible, do you know that?”
“You unkempt brute!” she breathed “I’m so sick of you not combing your hair” she whispered in the middle of the chapel. The passive aggresive conversation was starting to turn heads “I’m who I am” he whispered back as he ran his hands through his shaggy hair.
With her clothes baggy and hair loose and unkempt, she looked more the part of an urchin than a princess. Of course, for those that knew her, this was far from an unusual occurrence.
He was drunk, that was obvious. He strummed a stolen parlor guitar, singing “leave it aloooooone” over and over. He wore a sweat stained off-white tank top, ripped dress pants, his greasy hair unkept. Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes .
messy,
thrown,
bed head,
like my heart.
torn, scattered,
the many pieces of my thoughts
my feelings
that i can’t justify
please.
help me clean up my mess.
She kept an unkempt appearance to keep Mister Shackle away, the tattered leather jacket serving as a deterrent rather than an attraction. It was a bit sad to see that she had to dumb down her beauty to make a creepy old man less creepy, but obviously, when it came down to it, he wasn’t going to change his attitude and she wasn’t going to leave her job.
Obviously, at first, her manager was unhappy with her appearance. However, after he learned it meant no more drooling or shrieking from Shackle, he let it slide.
Dirty, scraggly, disheveled in appearance. The man was unkempt and smelled of old tobacco and sweat. He looked as if he had been drug through dirt and debris for a week.
Maybe it was the way his hair was unkempt in the morning, or the way his laughter could brighten up a room, but she knew her love for him was endless. It stretched all over her heart, from the tips of her fingers to the bottom of her toes. He was hers.
Maybe it was the way his usually straight hair fell over his green eyes, or the way his laughter could lighten up a room, but in that moment she knew that she couldn’t deny her feelings for him, and as much as she would try to dismiss her emotions, they wouldn’t go away.
The room was messy and unkempt, with infantile drawings, busted old computers, and dog-eared books with broken spines scattered throughout. There was no way that I could look for the files in here. God, why were the inhabitants of this house so messy? It was almost barbaric.
I hadn’t showered in a week and I didn’t even care. my teeth looked yellow, my hair was a mess and I smelt like I had bathed in a sewer for 3 days. It didn’t matter though, I was allowed to feel this way.
Messy messy people with wrinkled and dirty clothing. I wondered if yhey had any other clothes than those. Their hair was unkempt and frizzing and they were shivering in their inadequate shelter from the cold.
Janice surveyed the rumpled sheets and Frankie’s red face with raised brows. “Alright. Good for you,” she said. Frankie’s face grew a deeper red, which drew a smirk from Janice. “I’m going to open a window. It smells like sex in here. So can we get to work now?”
“I’M NOT ON DRUGS OR SOMETHING, MUM, GOD, GET OUT!”
“Sweetie, i’m just…I, look. I made a few mistakes when I had you and God knows i’m trying to correct them now. If you won’t let me help you then-”
“I DON’T NEED HELP! Just because my room is unkempt and whatever, just..go.”
“But you’ve been so distant and i can HELP you!”
“MUM JUST GO, PLEASE!”
Unkempt? Just what does that mean? Too many books, too many bags..and not organized. Unkempt, not in a straight line. Not clear. Too many directions. Like this writing contained only by the oneword time limit that allows for only so much unkempt-ness. But for me, unkempt is far superior to “kempt”.
She came out of her room, her hair wild and unkempt. She was very upset that we didn’t believe her. It may seem mean of us not to believe her story, but it’s just so wild. No creatures exist that are half unicorn and half lion.
sunday nights are meant for getting things back to the starting line. To sharpen the dulled pencils, tweeze eyebrows and fool-proof the next seven days. Sweep up on the trails of the mess the tornado of last week is leaving. I’m turning circles around my bedroom with hawk eyes, that I must have borrowed them from someone else. Nothing can be unkempt, or the week ahead, staring me down, will be released wild, dragging me down with it.
unknowingly kept a ideat that doest belong to me. may e that all there is for any one to say around here.
looks good and great.
He was from the Dominican Republic. 16 when they first signed him. Hammered it to all sides of the field and could lay line drives up the middle with any swing. Beautiful swing he had. I don’t know what all happened between then and now but he’s been sitting in a cell at State for two years no biding his time.
My promiscuous roommate : not really that pretty but willing to go the extra mile made the boys come a runnin. Her hair , after a blasting night of unadulterated fun : in the morning could make a train run off its tracks. It was the most unkempt and disarrayed showcase that sat upon her little head . I ask her , “what the hell did you do last night ? ” She bites into her gloomy looking banana that she has been just mindlessly holding for about 5 minutes before she realizes it is even in her hand . She shrugs and gets that little crocked ,mischievous smile she tends to get after writing on a public bathroom wall or flirting with the mail man who cannot speak a lick of English . ” WHo knows ” , she says …..
If only , I too , could be a little unkempt ….I might just have more to write about ….
A baggy sweatshirt and jeans…unkempt hair, no makeup. That’s what she liked though. She never found it necessary to have to be something she’s not. Isn’t that what life is supposed to be? You should never be afraid to look like a mess, wear what you want, feel whatever you feel like feeling. Don’t worry about all the structure, JUST LIVE.
She’s walked in the room hair flying and seemingly unkempt. Her face was the definition of chaos, her mouth set in a line of determination, her body tense and ready to go. Times like these, the most hectic, the most stressful are the times that her true ability and confidence comes out. It’s not all about appearance; it’s about the inner strength and power.
jordan lost her last name
it was gone,
nothing could save it
her family
dfyghjk
.
.
Her hair was greasy, unkempt. She had a way of bringing up in conversation that she was a bohemian, a free spirit. Personally, I believe that anyone who claims to be a free spirit is more trapped in that conviction that anyone else.
My hair always seems to be unkempt no matter how often I attempt to tame it. It’s just in the nature of some things to be free, wild, screaming and running from those chasing them.
My hair was unkempt, but I walked out of the bathroom anyways, grabbed my backpack and headed for the door, grabbing a banana on the way. I saw the schoolbus from my driveway as I made my way to the bus stop down the road. As it stopped, I realized my mom wouldn’t be able to drive me if I missed it. I began to run.
they rolled down the hills
and unfurled their unkempt hearts
to see what was left sticking there.
sometimes a scrap of happiness,
sometimes a small sharp pain.
the bermuda sometimes punctured our shirts
and we looked like the depraved
when really we were the opposite.
the room was trashed. years of deterioration had taken its toll on this single room that sat high above four stories of other similar rooms. My hands were cold, as I exhaled into the numb fingertips.
He is wild, courageous, adventurous. This is his beauty, his hair tattered and rugged, a tale of many mountains sides rummaged and rested on. His face is oft unkempt, deep, an abundance of riveting tales told by just the glance of his eyes. Unkempt is his style, for his greatest pursuit is a relationship with wildest of Kings.
You draw the blinds and I fall into you. I kiss what is left of us, and give you a pat on the back. Good job. Nice run. Good plays. Let’s box it all up and do it again next week, next month, next year. There’s something comforting about the mess, about the way you left me. Something nice in the fact that we can never see it be this way again. Folds will fall into folds and dust will compile onto dust, and there will be nothing but neatness if we continue on this way. There is stubble around your smile. There is a greased slickness to you while we say, we can shower later, the game is on.
I ran the comb through my hair and turned to my sister Trina, who was sitting on the couch playing a game. I sighed, walked over and shook her. “How do I look, Treen? I wanna be presentable enough for my date.”
She looked up at me and blinked. “You look unkempt, if you ask me.”
I rolled my eyes. She always did whatever she could to annoy me. “Do you even know what that word means?”
She shook her head and shrugged, turning her attention back to her phone. I groaned and hit her with a couch pillow. “You are impossible, do you know that?”
“You unkempt brute!” she breathed “I’m so sick of you not combing your hair” she whispered in the middle of the chapel. The passive aggresive conversation was starting to turn heads “I’m who I am” he whispered back as he ran his hands through his shaggy hair.
Just right when I wake up
feeling next to you
the body that I want next to me
to wrap up
unfold
fuck.
pull yourself together
straighten the collar
adjust the tie
stare at yourself in the mirror,
there.
thrust yourself into your reflection
shatter yourself into your many parts.
unkempt
under the weather
under the sheets
indisposed
into dream state
into the unknown.
With her clothes baggy and hair loose and unkempt, she looked more the part of an urchin than a princess. Of course, for those that knew her, this was far from an unusual occurrence.
Unkempt. I cannot. This room is unkempt and I just cannot.
He woke up
After a long sleep,
And found himself covered in a sheet,
Which was covered by a layer of dust,
the only thing in the great hall.
Parson sat up slowly, looking a the billboards that surrounded him,
And wept.
He was drunk, that was obvious. He strummed a stolen parlor guitar, singing “leave it aloooooone” over and over. He wore a sweat stained off-white tank top, ripped dress pants, his greasy hair unkept. Laugh lines creased the corners of his eyes .
messy,
thrown,
bed head,
like my heart.
torn, scattered,
the many pieces of my thoughts
my feelings
that i can’t justify
please.
help me clean up my mess.
She kept an unkempt appearance to keep Mister Shackle away, the tattered leather jacket serving as a deterrent rather than an attraction. It was a bit sad to see that she had to dumb down her beauty to make a creepy old man less creepy, but obviously, when it came down to it, he wasn’t going to change his attitude and she wasn’t going to leave her job.
Obviously, at first, her manager was unhappy with her appearance. However, after he learned it meant no more drooling or shrieking from Shackle, he let it slide.
Dirty, scraggly, disheveled in appearance. The man was unkempt and smelled of old tobacco and sweat. He looked as if he had been drug through dirt and debris for a week.
those unkempt tresses of yours
telling stories of wild beasts
you wicked, fiery girl
tell who did you bound with your locks
today?
Maybe it was the way his hair was unkempt in the morning, or the way his laughter could brighten up a room, but she knew her love for him was endless. It stretched all over her heart, from the tips of her fingers to the bottom of her toes. He was hers.
Maybe it was the way his usually straight hair fell over his green eyes, or the way his laughter could lighten up a room, but in that moment she knew that she couldn’t deny her feelings for him, and as much as she would try to dismiss her emotions, they wouldn’t go away.
The room was messy and unkempt, with infantile drawings, busted old computers, and dog-eared books with broken spines scattered throughout. There was no way that I could look for the files in here. God, why were the inhabitants of this house so messy? It was almost barbaric.
I hadn’t showered in a week and I didn’t even care. my teeth looked yellow, my hair was a mess and I smelt like I had bathed in a sewer for 3 days. It didn’t matter though, I was allowed to feel this way.
Messy messy people with wrinkled and dirty clothing. I wondered if yhey had any other clothes than those. Their hair was unkempt and frizzing and they were shivering in their inadequate shelter from the cold.
My room, my hair, my head.
Janice surveyed the rumpled sheets and Frankie’s red face with raised brows. “Alright. Good for you,” she said. Frankie’s face grew a deeper red, which drew a smirk from Janice. “I’m going to open a window. It smells like sex in here. So can we get to work now?”
“I’M NOT ON DRUGS OR SOMETHING, MUM, GOD, GET OUT!”
“Sweetie, i’m just…I, look. I made a few mistakes when I had you and God knows i’m trying to correct them now. If you won’t let me help you then-”
“I DON’T NEED HELP! Just because my room is unkempt and whatever, just..go.”
“But you’ve been so distant and i can HELP you!”
“MUM JUST GO, PLEASE!”
Unkempt? Just what does that mean? Too many books, too many bags..and not organized. Unkempt, not in a straight line. Not clear. Too many directions. Like this writing contained only by the oneword time limit that allows for only so much unkempt-ness. But for me, unkempt is far superior to “kempt”.
Her hair was messy and unkempt. The lack of care made it matty and full of knots. The poor thing, was cold, and wet.
Living on the streets had to be hard, and I found myself reaching out for her, trying to help her. I suddenly wanted to show this sad girl the world.
She came out of her room, her hair wild and unkempt. She was very upset that we didn’t believe her. It may seem mean of us not to believe her story, but it’s just so wild. No creatures exist that are half unicorn and half lion.