This was it. I was finally going to get revenge on mom for making me eat the broccoli. As it stared up at me, all I could think about was a green, terrible monster going to invade my stomach. I had the perfect plan. The green sharpie in one hand, green crayon in the other, I went to town on the white linoleum floor. It was actually looking pretty cool – maybe cool enough that she wouldn’t be mad. That just wouldn’t do. I scribbled – I mean SCRIBBLED into every dent in the floor, all the way up to the counters. Green covered the once shiny white floor, and I knew I had one. I couldn’t wait for her to see my evil masterpiece.
There was once a piece of white chalk who fell in love with a black marker. The marker hurt him deep ,and left a permanent mark. The chalk became sad and jumped to its death, shattering into a million bits.
The smell of the marker made me want to puke. Why don’t they make markers that don’t stink? Why don’t they make students that listen? Why don’t I want to be here? I knew there was something wrong with me.
age five, glitter hair ties and books of my own;
age nine, a change in uniform, hair long enough to put into a braid;
age thirteen, getting acquainted with blood on my clothes, trying desperately to fit in;
age fifteen, noticing the stares, uncomfortable in my own skin;
age eighteen, striding into college lectures and collapsing in tears on my bathroom floor.
age twenty, rapidly approaching, hopes to grow to unashamed, confident, alive
Marker could represent many things… A drawing tool, Someone who puts their mark on the world, or a point in your life. I personally view this word as more of a point in your life whether its a bad point, good point, or so on so forth.
please only use black or ball-point or fountain pens. do not write outside the designated areas. please refrain from using markers. to correct an answer, black out the entire square and tick a new square.
Jeffery drifted by the mile markers on the highway, slowly drifting in and out of consciousness. He hadn’t slept much the night before and was now facing dire circumstances; continue on, or pull over and miss the babies birth.
Joel used his new marker to take notes on his blotted page. He found himself enraged when it began to spill it’s ink onto the now unreadable poem. His face showed his emotion perfectly, red with sweat dripping over his brow like the ink that poured onto the page.
When I see “marker,” I think of a place holder of some sort–like a marker on the side of the road that tells you how far you’ve gone. Right now, I think I’m searching for a marker of some sort because I feel totally lost. I have no idea where the road is leading.
Markers are amazing. Even if you’re not feeling creative, you just are. So much you can do…write on people when they pass out from drinking too much, make posters for events, paint your nails…
She pulled the top off and, with thick broad lines, wrote “Happy Birthday” on the front. There. She tented it on the table in front of the cake and stood back to look at what she had created. There was no table cloth. Shoot. No table cloth!
the little kid drew all over the wall with the new black marker the mom scolded him and tried to wash it of but it would’t come off so she had to repaint the whole wall the end
His mouth on her neck was the only warning. She expected a light graze of teeth, but he bit her long and hard to mark her. Digging her nails into his arms, she cried a little. There would be a nasty bruise there tomorrow and she couldn’t wait to show it off.
you use markers to color in pictures so there not plain…..you also use a marker to mark your place in a book or important paper so you don’t forget about it and lose your place and you also use a different kind of maker so you can know where you can drive on the road….
The marker I used to sign my name on his cast. He had fallen down the stairs the night before, and ended up spending most of the night at the ER, waiting amongst the destitute, the helpless, and the frustrated unhealthy folks without insurance. So many languages, so many illnesses.
that place wher eyou have to place a signal a sign something with which you write and so that is what it is and we can keep going because markers show us the way and how to get there and so it is what it is w but who placed the marker there? and why? what to do about it when it runs out
Liza lay the compass down atop the stack of white stones from the riverbank, quietly, without even a scrape of metal on rock. The cracked glass face glinted in the low evening light. They could no longer use it, but she hoped it would be enough to help Corey find his way back to them.
Marker marker marker marker marker,. I am writing just the word marker because my original text has been wiped out and I dont want to repeat the entire original text all over again here. That;s why just the word marker!!!!. :D Time’s up
A marker in the road, in my path towards another chapter in my life. It’s kind of like a book mark, a place holder, so if I tend to get distracted in the internet, in hobbies, in romance, in social gatherings, I can always begin again where I left off, so I never lose track of where I am.
They marked my name on a sheet of paper with a bright red marker. That marker represents the life I’m leaving behind and more importantly the people. They won’t remember my name or anything about me, they will just see my name marked with that red marker.
You leave a mark to come back to, so you remember where you left off before embarking on a different journey. It’s an anchor to root you in place in case you lose your way, because you can always turn back and find it again. These markers are what we need in life, so as we grow and change, we can always look back to where we started.
The marker was blue. Blue had always been the color I associated saddness with. I chose it so that i could write all my sorrows down on paper with it. Tears fell on the paper as i wrote and blue tear drops smudged everywhere. That marker represented my life
A type of pen that is used on a white board. Could also be a type of pen used for writing names on clothing so that they don’t get lost – a marker of the permanent type. There are lots of different coloured markers available and you can get creative and make different designs and patterns with them. It is useful for people working in
Black green red blue dry eraser that lays around the desk yet hard to find when you really need it. Marker sounds like Maker. The marker allows you to identify two similar histological slides, as marker will be the only indication that let you differentiate in the midst of all the subtle differences.
Walking past this place called cemetery hill, there’s devious stares being cast in my direction, and I know it’s not a dream. Her name was Marcy and her eyes were like double cherry bull eyes, anime atomic wet, making all the markers run dry.
“Marker Man,” he is so very gay, so jaunty, so pleased with his job as a Someone at the supermarket, so easily possessed with perfection and his highlighter, hence his nickname, which I gave him in private, it is my little jest, and this is where being a gay male looks, on the surface, the divine way to be. And whether or not that is true, it is an account of how utter strangers–for we have only discussed the location of goods in aisles–can change our lives.
Some grade in elementary school, kids got incredibly interested in nice smelling markers. But I liked the smell of regular markers–the ones that smell like gasoline. Just sitting there all day, learning about cursive and sniffing markers.
Joshua scribbled all over Jessica’s drawing with a magic marker, yet he did very well at acting shocked and stunned when accused of the act. Still, the teacher was very good at perceiving his lying, and thus he was sent to the corner table to think about what he had done. Jessica, of course, had to redraw the entire picture, but at least she still managed to get an A.
every tree stood
alike and unlike the rest
in a painted forest
lost and found
mean nothing
hand in hand
holding aimlessly
adrift between
what’s seen and dreamed
settling in between
those muddied markers
This was it. I was finally going to get revenge on mom for making me eat the broccoli. As it stared up at me, all I could think about was a green, terrible monster going to invade my stomach. I had the perfect plan. The green sharpie in one hand, green crayon in the other, I went to town on the white linoleum floor. It was actually looking pretty cool – maybe cool enough that she wouldn’t be mad. That just wouldn’t do. I scribbled – I mean SCRIBBLED into every dent in the floor, all the way up to the counters. Green covered the once shiny white floor, and I knew I had one. I couldn’t wait for her to see my evil masterpiece.
she hated the squeaking noise that markers made when he drew. she said it brought up bad memories.
There was once a piece of white chalk who fell in love with a black marker. The marker hurt him deep ,and left a permanent mark. The chalk became sad and jumped to its death, shattering into a million bits.
No
The smell of the marker made me want to puke. Why don’t they make markers that don’t stink? Why don’t they make students that listen? Why don’t I want to be here? I knew there was something wrong with me.
age five, glitter hair ties and books of my own;
age nine, a change in uniform, hair long enough to put into a braid;
age thirteen, getting acquainted with blood on my clothes, trying desperately to fit in;
age fifteen, noticing the stares, uncomfortable in my own skin;
age eighteen, striding into college lectures and collapsing in tears on my bathroom floor.
age twenty, rapidly approaching, hopes to grow to unashamed, confident, alive
Marker could represent many things… A drawing tool, Someone who puts their mark on the world, or a point in your life. I personally view this word as more of a point in your life whether its a bad point, good point, or so on so forth.
here comes the maker that created living toys and sent them on an invasion and there are ones with missiles and bombs.
please only use black or ball-point or fountain pens. do not write outside the designated areas. please refrain from using markers. to correct an answer, black out the entire square and tick a new square.
Jeffery drifted by the mile markers on the highway, slowly drifting in and out of consciousness. He hadn’t slept much the night before and was now facing dire circumstances; continue on, or pull over and miss the babies birth.
Awesome creativity tool. Great practice as well.
Joel used his new marker to take notes on his blotted page. He found himself enraged when it began to spill it’s ink onto the now unreadable poem. His face showed his emotion perfectly, red with sweat dripping over his brow like the ink that poured onto the page.
When I see “marker,” I think of a place holder of some sort–like a marker on the side of the road that tells you how far you’ve gone. Right now, I think I’m searching for a marker of some sort because I feel totally lost. I have no idea where the road is leading.
Markers are amazing. Even if you’re not feeling creative, you just are. So much you can do…write on people when they pass out from drinking too much, make posters for events, paint your nails…
She pulled the top off and, with thick broad lines, wrote “Happy Birthday” on the front. There. She tented it on the table in front of the cake and stood back to look at what she had created. There was no table cloth. Shoot. No table cloth!
the little kid drew all over the wall with the new black marker the mom scolded him and tried to wash it of but it would’t come off so she had to repaint the whole wall the end
His mouth on her neck was the only warning. She expected a light graze of teeth, but he bit her long and hard to mark her. Digging her nails into his arms, she cried a little. There would be a nasty bruise there tomorrow and she couldn’t wait to show it off.
……..
you use markers to color in pictures so there not plain…..you also use a marker to mark your place in a book or important paper so you don’t forget about it and lose your place and you also use a different kind of maker so you can know where you can drive on the road….
The marker I used to sign my name on his cast. He had fallen down the stairs the night before, and ended up spending most of the night at the ER, waiting amongst the destitute, the helpless, and the frustrated unhealthy folks without insurance. So many languages, so many illnesses.
that place wher eyou have to place a signal a sign something with which you write and so that is what it is and we can keep going because markers show us the way and how to get there and so it is what it is w but who placed the marker there? and why? what to do about it when it runs out
Liza lay the compass down atop the stack of white stones from the riverbank, quietly, without even a scrape of metal on rock. The cracked glass face glinted in the low evening light. They could no longer use it, but she hoped it would be enough to help Corey find his way back to them.
Tonight, we dine in MARKER! Yes, MARKER. Blood was far too…barbaric, to say the least, so we went with a
Marker marker marker marker marker,. I am writing just the word marker because my original text has been wiped out and I dont want to repeat the entire original text all over again here. That;s why just the word marker!!!!. :D Time’s up
A marker in the road, in my path towards another chapter in my life. It’s kind of like a book mark, a place holder, so if I tend to get distracted in the internet, in hobbies, in romance, in social gatherings, I can always begin again where I left off, so I never lose track of where I am.
what happens next?
They marked my name on a sheet of paper with a bright red marker. That marker represents the life I’m leaving behind and more importantly the people. They won’t remember my name or anything about me, they will just see my name marked with that red marker.
You leave a mark to come back to, so you remember where you left off before embarking on a different journey. It’s an anchor to root you in place in case you lose your way, because you can always turn back and find it again. These markers are what we need in life, so as we grow and change, we can always look back to where we started.
The marker was blue. Blue had always been the color I associated saddness with. I chose it so that i could write all my sorrows down on paper with it. Tears fell on the paper as i wrote and blue tear drops smudged everywhere. That marker represented my life
A type of pen that is used on a white board. Could also be a type of pen used for writing names on clothing so that they don’t get lost – a marker of the permanent type. There are lots of different coloured markers available and you can get creative and make different designs and patterns with them. It is useful for people working in
I accidentally shoved a permanent marker up my nose. It stunk and I was high.
Black green red blue dry eraser that lays around the desk yet hard to find when you really need it. Marker sounds like Maker. The marker allows you to identify two similar histological slides, as marker will be the only indication that let you differentiate in the midst of all the subtle differences.
Walking past this place called cemetery hill, there’s devious stares being cast in my direction, and I know it’s not a dream. Her name was Marcy and her eyes were like double cherry bull eyes, anime atomic wet, making all the markers run dry.
“Marker Man,” he is so very gay, so jaunty, so pleased with his job as a Someone at the supermarket, so easily possessed with perfection and his highlighter, hence his nickname, which I gave him in private, it is my little jest, and this is where being a gay male looks, on the surface, the divine way to be. And whether or not that is true, it is an account of how utter strangers–for we have only discussed the location of goods in aisles–can change our lives.
Some grade in elementary school, kids got incredibly interested in nice smelling markers. But I liked the smell of regular markers–the ones that smell like gasoline. Just sitting there all day, learning about cursive and sniffing markers.
I don’ like this marker. I d like to have anither one. These marers are not as bad.
Joshua scribbled all over Jessica’s drawing with a magic marker, yet he did very well at acting shocked and stunned when accused of the act. Still, the teacher was very good at perceiving his lying, and thus he was sent to the corner table to think about what he had done. Jessica, of course, had to redraw the entire picture, but at least she still managed to get an A.
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every tree stood
alike and unlike the rest
in a painted forest
lost and found
mean nothing
hand in hand
holding aimlessly
adrift between
what’s seen and dreamed
settling in between
those muddied markers