they flow through your body through your heart and through your eyes, they run their course, rapidly pulse or slow, can you see your veins, they are blue, showing brightly through your skin, you cant hide them,
they flow through your body through your heart and through your eyes, they course, rapidly pulse, can you see your veins, they are blue, showing brightly through your skin, you cant hide them
I feel my head. I feel my head throb with the pain of the day, of the week, of the subway, of the overdue insurance bill. It’s difficult to remain focused on anything.
Just a moment away from the computer, from the brightness of the screen.
I put my head in my hands, and stare downward.
I see the scar on my arm from when my cat scratched me.
I see the veins in my arm pulse as blood flows through.
vericose veins, or however you spell it. Gross. Fat legs is what I think of. Maybe I’m afraid of having fat legs? I don’t mind giving blood, so I’m not worried about things going on with my veins, although I did have an iv in my hand for a week two months ago.
I like veins. They’re soft, tender. I don’t like to get blood on my face. That sucks. But veins are cool. My grandma’s stick out a lot. I think she’s dead. She’s been watching the golden girls marathon. I think that would kill me. I like veins. Veins are soft and tender.
Annabelle liked veins. They were secret, hidden beneath layers of skin. Secret, but important. Veins held blood. Veins held life. Veins were the reason for living. As Annabelle split her veins open, she realized they were also her reason for dying.
veins. My brother had varicose vein surgery. I have a few on my legs, but not too much. Was that too much information? I don’t want to appear vain, but surely I am. Did you know that most people are? However the wind blows the vane, we are vain about our veins.
pulsing blood through your body. I believe the veins are the ones that return the blood to your heart once it’s completed its cycle, and the arteries are the ones that pump it out again.
my hands are like leaves verdant with veins, running like highways to the end of all time green like the sea of china i look and see the veins of time red with the love of all that is cursing and cruising through my mind. veins
Blue blood, through blue veins. The term means royalty, because back in the day, you could only see the blue of royal veins. Their skin was the only skin pale enough to be transparent. The workers were always too tan.
Veins are where the plant stores all of the bad or not-so-good stuff for humans. You can tell when tea is really high quality because it doesn’t use any part of the veins, but the whole leaf.
I learned this last night. :)
Veins are one of the most important part of our bodies it provides our entire body with the blood to operate like it needs to without these amazing structures we would not be able to survive.
You can find veins inside people. They carry blood to and from the heart. You can also find veins inside leaves. They carry the necessary water and nutrients to the plant’s extremities. Veins are like tubes, with a hollow inner core.
The blood raced through her veins as she ran as hard as she could. She could feel the energy pulsing through her body as she raced on. Would she be able to escape? Could she run fast enough to get away? She sure hoped so…
Little trickling fingers, reach for my palm. I won’t let go, but that’s a lie. You need me and I thrive on that. There’s nothing better than sitting by your side and stealing a bite or two, not caring if anyone’s watching with envious eyes.
chicken farms
ranches
LaGrange out the wazzoo –
who can say
which way the fertile
eggs thrive? count
the dozens
paling blue in the mist
morning calls
in the fog
the shrouded meadows
winter to spring
vain weather vainly
assembling her
minions, urchin-like
cavalcade of the rising
minds’ intolerances,
ambiguities
at the threshold
complicating the vassals’
obeisance: stop
on a dime, you stop
furnishing the inner
walls, captured
by memory,
by clashing wisdoms,
by inarticulate
fate.
Veins. I have them. You have them. We all have them. They are our life, blood flowing through them like tiny little cars going through constant tunnels. Don’t crash though or else you’re going to make everyone suffer, including the world that you live in. Cuts are bad.
The blood felt like it was ice running thru her veins. She could feel each little cell, freezing, hardening, like little knifes hurtling thru a maze of tunnels, making her writhe and scream in agony. This particular strain of virus, new to the world must not leave the lab. Highly contagious, it would diminish the world’s population in mere months. With no known cure, it seemed that it was hopeless. Sharon must seal herself off from humanity and die, so that others must live.
The veins in his head throbbed witht he pain. With his eyes screwed tight shut he could still see the flashing white light that flickered through his mind with each strike as the punches hit home. They would never get him to change. They would never get him to his vote!
I watched my mother wash the dirty dishes in the gross, food filled water. Her veins a blue contrast to her olive skin. Sometimes I can’t even see my veins. I can always see hers.
We are flesh and blood, spirit, physical and spiritual beings. We are made up of thousands of veins. Blood cells are born and die every minute. I am in awe. The human body is a masterpiece in creativity.
He collapsed at the wheel. The next thing he knew, he was being gently pulled from the driver’s seat. He heard a muffle of Police voices, “How much alcohol is in his veins? Once he recovers, he will need a breath test”?
She told me her nurse could not find her veins. Her left hand was bumpy. The attempts of too many forced needles. I saw the punctures which run along her once perfectly shaped arms, now bruised, scratched and blue.
Ali’s veins stood out in his forehead as he boxed. Sweat pickled his face, chest and back. He punched, missed and a shower of sweat hit his opponent in the eye. He ducked and lunged towards Ali, whose ballet feet took him safely to the ropes.
I sat in the blood clinic like a Christmas turkey. The nurse could not find my veins. I winced as she pressed and probed my brown arms. I turned towards the exit door. She cleansed my right arm, prepared the strap and needle. “I’ve found one”, she smiled, and began to push the needle into my arm.
My viens are blue with a greenish hue. My blood is constantly flowing through them. It is a sign of my life. My body is alive.
they flow through your body through your heart and through your eyes, they run their course, rapidly pulse or slow, can you see your veins, they are blue, showing brightly through your skin, you cant hide them,
they flow through your body through your heart and through your eyes, they course, rapidly pulse, can you see your veins, they are blue, showing brightly through your skin, you cant hide them
Cant see them,
her eyes
closed
Mine open, in case
maybe something is
missed
but I know that’s
not the case
its there, the immediate
blood
red
blue
pulsing
heart
life
cracks
lines
erehu
I feel my head. I feel my head throb with the pain of the day, of the week, of the subway, of the overdue insurance bill. It’s difficult to remain focused on anything.
Just a moment away from the computer, from the brightness of the screen.
I put my head in my hands, and stare downward.
I see the scar on my arm from when my cat scratched me.
I see the veins in my arm pulse as blood flows through.
I am alive.
there are veins in my arms and there are veins in my hands and the blood in my veins ways me down
I float above them but they will anchor me in time
vericose veins, or however you spell it. Gross. Fat legs is what I think of. Maybe I’m afraid of having fat legs? I don’t mind giving blood, so I’m not worried about things going on with my veins, although I did have an iv in my hand for a week two months ago.
I like veins. They’re soft, tender. I don’t like to get blood on my face. That sucks. But veins are cool. My grandma’s stick out a lot. I think she’s dead. She’s been watching the golden girls marathon. I think that would kill me. I like veins. Veins are soft and tender.
I have veins in my body. Those veins carry blood to every part of my body.
Annabelle liked veins. They were secret, hidden beneath layers of skin. Secret, but important. Veins held blood. Veins held life. Veins were the reason for living. As Annabelle split her veins open, she realized they were also her reason for dying.
Suddenly, I feel like there’s life flowing through me. Streams reaching every end of my body, making things better. And I can see again. Veins.
veins. My brother had varicose vein surgery. I have a few on my legs, but not too much. Was that too much information? I don’t want to appear vain, but surely I am. Did you know that most people are? However the wind blows the vane, we are vain about our veins.
veins
pulsing blood through your body. I believe the veins are the ones that return the blood to your heart once it’s completed its cycle, and the arteries are the ones that pump it out again.
my hands are like leaves verdant with veins, running like highways to the end of all time green like the sea of china i look and see the veins of time red with the love of all that is cursing and cruising through my mind. veins
Blue blood, through blue veins. The term means royalty, because back in the day, you could only see the blue of royal veins. Their skin was the only skin pale enough to be transparent. The workers were always too tan.
Veins are where the plant stores all of the bad or not-so-good stuff for humans. You can tell when tea is really high quality because it doesn’t use any part of the veins, but the whole leaf.
I learned this last night. :)
Veins are one of the most important part of our bodies it provides our entire body with the blood to operate like it needs to without these amazing structures we would not be able to survive.
You can find veins inside people. They carry blood to and from the heart. You can also find veins inside leaves. They carry the necessary water and nutrients to the plant’s extremities. Veins are like tubes, with a hollow inner core.
i don’t know what is veins.
the veins are in your body they carry blood and some times medicene. if you do drugs they could also carry a disease that you don’t know about.
The blood raced through her veins as she ran as hard as she could. She could feel the energy pulsing through her body as she raced on. Would she be able to escape? Could she run fast enough to get away? She sure hoped so…
green, white, neutral? Are there neutral types? Don’t think so… Veins are kinda scary if you look at them way to long.
Little trickling fingers, reach for my palm. I won’t let go, but that’s a lie. You need me and I thrive on that. There’s nothing better than sitting by your side and stealing a bite or two, not caring if anyone’s watching with envious eyes.
chicken farms
ranches
LaGrange out the wazzoo –
who can say
which way the fertile
eggs thrive? count
the dozens
paling blue in the mist
morning calls
in the fog
the shrouded meadows
winter to spring
vain weather vainly
assembling her
minions, urchin-like
cavalcade of the rising
minds’ intolerances,
ambiguities
at the threshold
complicating the vassals’
obeisance: stop
on a dime, you stop
furnishing the inner
walls, captured
by memory,
by clashing wisdoms,
by inarticulate
fate.
Veins. I have them. You have them. We all have them. They are our life, blood flowing through them like tiny little cars going through constant tunnels. Don’t crash though or else you’re going to make everyone suffer, including the world that you live in. Cuts are bad.
The blood felt like it was ice running thru her veins. She could feel each little cell, freezing, hardening, like little knifes hurtling thru a maze of tunnels, making her writhe and scream in agony. This particular strain of virus, new to the world must not leave the lab. Highly contagious, it would diminish the world’s population in mere months. With no known cure, it seemed that it was hopeless. Sharon must seal herself off from humanity and die, so that others must live.
thru it thru you thru me there it goes it goes & goes
& goes/ goes, moves away & in & among & between & here it starts & there it ends & thru it thru you thru me thru we it flows flows flows
thru and between & among & together it all comes
The veins in his head throbbed witht he pain. With his eyes screwed tight shut he could still see the flashing white light that flickered through his mind with each strike as the punches hit home. They would never get him to change. They would never get him to his vote!
Veins of Gold hiding in the Ground below calling to the sprint of the explorer in all of us. Is your spirit of adventure still alive? Explore
Outside my window,
the birds chrip,
the butterflies chase,
and the fish swim freely.
Outside my window is a great world,
a world of happiness and freedom.
With no worries or fears.
Is the sounds of spring time.
I watched my mother wash the dirty dishes in the gross, food filled water. Her veins a blue contrast to her olive skin. Sometimes I can’t even see my veins. I can always see hers.
Blood is thicker than water, Man, I’ve always hated that saying. If that is true, why do I always wanna do more for my friends?
We are flesh and blood, spirit, physical and spiritual beings. We are made up of thousands of veins. Blood cells are born and die every minute. I am in awe. The human body is a masterpiece in creativity.
He collapsed at the wheel. The next thing he knew, he was being gently pulled from the driver’s seat. He heard a muffle of Police voices, “How much alcohol is in his veins? Once he recovers, he will need a breath test”?
She told me her nurse could not find her veins. Her left hand was bumpy. The attempts of too many forced needles. I saw the punctures which run along her once perfectly shaped arms, now bruised, scratched and blue.
Ali’s veins stood out in his forehead as he boxed. Sweat pickled his face, chest and back. He punched, missed and a shower of sweat hit his opponent in the eye. He ducked and lunged towards Ali, whose ballet feet took him safely to the ropes.
It’s nothing new that you flow through me. Your taste, your color, they way you pour out of my veins. This I know.
I sat in the blood clinic like a Christmas turkey. The nurse could not find my veins. I winced as she pressed and probed my brown arms. I turned towards the exit door. She cleansed my right arm, prepared the strap and needle. “I’ve found one”, she smiled, and began to push the needle into my arm.