She stretches her bare body across the bed, and her ribcage slides under her skin, up and expanded. There is an opening between her two lungs, where vines are growing up and out, across the mattress, spilling onto the floor and around my ankles.
vines serve a useful purpose in that some of they produce can be eaten, however most of them are destructive in nature. We see vines grow and spread all over the place and rap themselves around anything in sight and soon the whole landscape take on a whole new look.
vines stand bold and confident bursting at the seams of the ground. green and black, grapes and wine. vine stand bold and confident bursting at the seams of the ground.
Are what grapes grow on. Grapevines. I love doing those in warm ups. Grapevines. Wine.. Is kind of gross. I’ll like it one day, i guess. My parents do. Grape juice is yucky and sour!
How did i get to grapes so fast?? Unless you were just saying wines with a German accent in which case, I’ve already covered that :).
The vines were large and beautiful and green. They wrapped around the house like an old friend in a long and unrelenting hug. She loved those vines. Until he came around one day and took them all down. Now they could all see the beauty of the house, but the vines that made her feel loved and safe were now gone.
vines are from trees which make the tree stood up, this vines is strong which help the tree when it is raining hard. It is like your family who is helping you stand in the face of your defeat.
one day I was walking and find an odd tree full of vines everyone, this vines suddenly moves and trap my feet, I tried to remove it but it grip me hard.
Don Diego watched the fire engulf the house that his grandfather’s grandfather built. The flames danced on the rooftops and leapt across the carriage way to the grape vines in a graceful plie. The crops! The wine! The end.
the vines of grapes looked plump as we walked through the vineyard. It was hard to imagine that all the wine I drank the night before had come from these vines. Someone had gone through the process of preparing the wine and making it just for me to drink.
Vines were stretching across the big red, brick wall, a wall that hadn’t been visible for almost two decades. Someone might have cut the vines down, but they didn’t. And so it were.
Atop the mist, below the clouds, a tower awaits. A tower long since abandoned, a tower ornate in every way, draping vines reach hundreds of feet towards the forest floor below, stone gargoyles protect as they have since the beginning of their time. It is a tower that nobody and yet everybody occupies. It is the tower that Death himself calls home.
I gulped as small pebbles dropped from above. I could not hang on any longer. I looked down and there I was, hanging on a measly branch over 100 feet above the ground. I was so close to reaching the top – how did I ever get myself into this predicament?
Suddenly, as if God’s very own rays fell upon me, thick vines dropped from the top. Safety was within my grasp.
vines are the best. I remember thinking that they were gross when I was younger they crawled up the sides of buildings and would curl around like a disease. I thought they represented dirtiness and the lost that comes with old buildings.
Sometimes I think of my mind, and I see vines in the simplest way, like veins almost, just flowing around in your skin where no one will ever see them, but its okay they’ll always be there like that weed you just cant get out of your garden it will always live there within you.
We clung to our delusions, our hopes of what we were
Praying that we found something real in this blur
But it’s different to love than to want to be kissed;
Is it true that you miss me, or do you miss being missed?
The vines of optimistic life branch out,
or something like that.
Since 1940 they’ve been steadily
declining or being cut down and we now brood
in our homes
in front of the screen
until it hurts to look at anything else.
there are vines throughout my body vines called veins called life support grapes on vines the food of life nectar support vineyards and romance castles in italy and love and song the vines that connect us through out our lives the vines of our ancestors.
The grapes grew in rows outside her room. The smell of them wafts in on the breeze, gently playing with the curtains. She watched from her window as the men worked, picking and sorting, making their way down the lines.
it is full of grapes and is really tangly. it can get all over the place and it hurts coz its sharp sometimes. it is a plant. it is brown and can grow different types of food. yuuuummmmmm omg i have 30 seconds left and i dont know what to write!!!
Vines are like nature’s decorations. They cling, swerve, climb, and cover any surface they come in contact with. They are beautiful walls. I wish I could cover myself in vines, so that I might have self-defense that looks as pretty as I feel sometimes, but still hides me when I wish to not be seen.
My hands encircled his neck easily. He made no resistance, and I sank my fangs into him like the carnivore I was. There it came. The warm, spicy, wet of red spilled itself on my tongue.
My hands turned into vines and we entwined. The leafy roots and stalks warped into a blooming rose and exploded in a mess of yellow and black. Bees stung each other and stuck themselves into a honeycomb the shape of a skull. The skull started to scream and the bees dispersed again.
I awoke to his last words.
“I regret nothing.” he said with such conviction that I was tempted to believe. But I shook my head and devoured the rest of him.
The vines wrap around me, all of them running smoothly and quickly like fingers. They wrap around every curved surface-my neck, my thighs. I close my eyes, and fall into them.
Vines again? Come on. I was expecting another word.. Vines remind me of plants climbing along fences to search for more light. Sunlight. For photosynthesis so it can survive this competitive life. Vines are cool looking words if you stare at it for a while.
i first think about wines but i realized that vines is not the same as wines. vines i believe is the actual trees or plants that make the grape that makes the wine. i realized that sounds stupidly retarder and i believe stupidly is not a word but there is no red line under it so it must be a word i guess. now i’m wondering how much time is left of the 60 seconds. i wish there was a timer and now i realize it’s done.
Your vines surround me, slightly suffocate me. Their greenness fills me, slowly. I am going to die burried in them, am I? Nature, you are naughty…naughty little nature.
Vines grew from the fruitful grape tree like you would not believe. Plump grapes. Grapes of beauty. One burst of yonder in your mouth. Like an explosion of passion, flavor. One bite of life. Fantastic and tasteful
The wrapped around my legs, trickling up and up, and I knew they were never ending. Slowly I was being dragged into the unknown, but then something strange happened. Stranger than the fact that I was being sucked into a new world. The vines started glowing, a gold a child would imagine at the thought of heaven, and I knew it was freedom. I knew that in a few moments, I would be engulfed, and everything would change. I would be free.
She stretches her bare body across the bed, and her ribcage slides under her skin, up and expanded. There is an opening between her two lungs, where vines are growing up and out, across the mattress, spilling onto the floor and around my ankles.
I may as well stay the night.
vines serve a useful purpose in that some of they produce can be eaten, however most of them are destructive in nature. We see vines grow and spread all over the place and rap themselves around anything in sight and soon the whole landscape take on a whole new look.
vines stand bold and confident bursting at the seams of the ground. green and black, grapes and wine. vine stand bold and confident bursting at the seams of the ground.
Are what grapes grow on. Grapevines. I love doing those in warm ups. Grapevines. Wine.. Is kind of gross. I’ll like it one day, i guess. My parents do. Grape juice is yucky and sour!
How did i get to grapes so fast?? Unless you were just saying wines with a German accent in which case, I’ve already covered that :).
green, fruit laden… grapes offered to the sun. Rich juice spilling over casks, nectar of the gods.
They tangle and twine, drooping down from the canopy above. Dripping with fruit. God casts them into the wine press to die. Just as he casts us.
The vines were large and beautiful and green. They wrapped around the house like an old friend in a long and unrelenting hug. She loved those vines. Until he came around one day and took them all down. Now they could all see the beauty of the house, but the vines that made her feel loved and safe were now gone.
vines are from trees which make the tree stood up, this vines is strong which help the tree when it is raining hard. It is like your family who is helping you stand in the face of your defeat.
one day I was walking and find an odd tree full of vines everyone, this vines suddenly moves and trap my feet, I tried to remove it but it grip me hard.
Don Diego watched the fire engulf the house that his grandfather’s grandfather built. The flames danced on the rooftops and leapt across the carriage way to the grape vines in a graceful plie. The crops! The wine! The end.
the vines of grapes looked plump as we walked through the vineyard. It was hard to imagine that all the wine I drank the night before had come from these vines. Someone had gone through the process of preparing the wine and making it just for me to drink.
Vines were stretching across the big red, brick wall, a wall that hadn’t been visible for almost two decades. Someone might have cut the vines down, but they didn’t. And so it were.
bliss to intimacy to annoyance to goofiness
Atop the mist, below the clouds, a tower awaits. A tower long since abandoned, a tower ornate in every way, draping vines reach hundreds of feet towards the forest floor below, stone gargoyles protect as they have since the beginning of their time. It is a tower that nobody and yet everybody occupies. It is the tower that Death himself calls home.
I gulped as small pebbles dropped from above. I could not hang on any longer. I looked down and there I was, hanging on a measly branch over 100 feet above the ground. I was so close to reaching the top – how did I ever get myself into this predicament?
Suddenly, as if God’s very own rays fell upon me, thick vines dropped from the top. Safety was within my grasp.
it had me. fast and secure. i couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. the vines tightened their hold as a ray of sunlight shone through the roof top.
They had taken her and tied her up in vines. All of this was due to a horrible case of mistaken identity.
Creeping down from the peaks of your garden walls to meet me at the bottom, the vines of your mind are growing toward me.
There were thousands of them, tangling up the crumbling facade in a lattice of glossy dark green vines. I stared, aghast at the sight before me.
“Just how many plants do you think are there?”
“Too many.” His voice was grim. He wearily pulled on his faded leather gardener’s gloves. “We won’t be done until well after nightfall.”
vines are the best. I remember thinking that they were gross when I was younger they crawled up the sides of buildings and would curl around like a disease. I thought they represented dirtiness and the lost that comes with old buildings.
Sometimes I think of my mind, and I see vines in the simplest way, like veins almost, just flowing around in your skin where no one will ever see them, but its okay they’ll always be there like that weed you just cant get out of your garden it will always live there within you.
We clung to our delusions, our hopes of what we were
Praying that we found something real in this blur
But it’s different to love than to want to be kissed;
Is it true that you miss me, or do you miss being missed?
The vines of optimistic life branch out,
or something like that.
Since 1940 they’ve been steadily
declining or being cut down and we now brood
in our homes
in front of the screen
until it hurts to look at anything else.
there are vines throughout my body vines called veins called life support grapes on vines the food of life nectar support vineyards and romance castles in italy and love and song the vines that connect us through out our lives the vines of our ancestors.
The grapes grew in rows outside her room. The smell of them wafts in on the breeze, gently playing with the curtains. She watched from her window as the men worked, picking and sorting, making their way down the lines.
“This is the only place in the world that I feel at peace — and look, look, the vines are growing.”
— Tess, “One Life to Live”, 2006
it is full of grapes and is really tangly. it can get all over the place and it hurts coz its sharp sometimes. it is a plant. it is brown and can grow different types of food. yuuuummmmmm omg i have 30 seconds left and i dont know what to write!!!
Vines are like nature’s decorations. They cling, swerve, climb, and cover any surface they come in contact with. They are beautiful walls. I wish I could cover myself in vines, so that I might have self-defense that looks as pretty as I feel sometimes, but still hides me when I wish to not be seen.
The vines that wrap my heart and entwine themselves with my pain… Tighter and tighter until my beating piece wants to burst.
Burst to stop it.
And burst to start again.
My hands encircled his neck easily. He made no resistance, and I sank my fangs into him like the carnivore I was. There it came. The warm, spicy, wet of red spilled itself on my tongue.
My hands turned into vines and we entwined. The leafy roots and stalks warped into a blooming rose and exploded in a mess of yellow and black. Bees stung each other and stuck themselves into a honeycomb the shape of a skull. The skull started to scream and the bees dispersed again.
I awoke to his last words.
“I regret nothing.” he said with such conviction that I was tempted to believe. But I shook my head and devoured the rest of him.
The vines wrap around me, all of them running smoothly and quickly like fingers. They wrap around every curved surface-my neck, my thighs. I close my eyes, and fall into them.
Vines again? Come on. I was expecting another word.. Vines remind me of plants climbing along fences to search for more light. Sunlight. For photosynthesis so it can survive this competitive life. Vines are cool looking words if you stare at it for a while.
Turn and turn and turn again
You see the what but not the when
Remedy and wrong entwine
And soon they form a single vine
This came into my head almost immediately, one of my favorite poems, written in the form of a prophecy in a Suzanne Collins book.
i first think about wines but i realized that vines is not the same as wines. vines i believe is the actual trees or plants that make the grape that makes the wine. i realized that sounds stupidly retarder and i believe stupidly is not a word but there is no red line under it so it must be a word i guess. now i’m wondering how much time is left of the 60 seconds. i wish there was a timer and now i realize it’s done.
Your vines surround me, slightly suffocate me. Their greenness fills me, slowly. I am going to die burried in them, am I? Nature, you are naughty…naughty little nature.
Vines grew from the fruitful grape tree like you would not believe. Plump grapes. Grapes of beauty. One burst of yonder in your mouth. Like an explosion of passion, flavor. One bite of life. Fantastic and tasteful
laden with grapes
and dripping with bees
drunk on Dionysus.
they reach for the sun
yet shrink from its
loveless caress.
too harsh for the best of intentions.
veni, vidi, vici, vines.
The wrapped around my legs, trickling up and up, and I knew they were never ending. Slowly I was being dragged into the unknown, but then something strange happened. Stranger than the fact that I was being sucked into a new world. The vines started glowing, a gold a child would imagine at the thought of heaven, and I knew it was freedom. I knew that in a few moments, I would be engulfed, and everything would change. I would be free.
Vines is the stem of any plant. A vine is long and slender stem. It supports itself by holding fast tendrils or claspers.