Some days, as I reflect all the things i have done in my life, I feel I have held so much back. i have not been able to pin point the reasons why I never allowed myself to do certain things or act a certain way, or even wear certain things. Most likely, I feared being judged. by whom, I am unsure of. What I am sure of is I do not want people to think poorly of me. Thinking about it now it seems silly but still I fear it. I like these people, who ever they are, to see that I have made good choices; that I was a good person. However, when reminded of my bad choices, it’s a punch to the ego. I question every decision I have ever made on my own, so when someone else does that for me, especially those I love, it hurts me. Why is it so wrong to want to do things “by the book”? It took me so long to accept myself with the title of Single Mom, or Divorcee. But deep down it was never something I ever expected, wanted or have come to terms with. I failed. Maybe it was because I cut a few corners on the way but I did my best. I remained sheltered, I didn’t allow myself to fall into temptation. I guess that is what I keep telling myself. It’s the only way I can look in the mirror. It never works out the way you hope, though. The past remains in your presence and your future; and its the number one reason why no one wants you.
My friend is so modest. She so kind and caring but whats standed out to me the most was her modesty. She was modest to everyone. Except one day I had a mental block writing about modesty!!!! Because I’m 11 and well I hardly know what it is!! I’m a good writer though!!! Opps times up!!!
She bit back her response, which was complete with flushed cheeks a light sheen of nervous sweat. “Stop being so modest,” she finally said. “You did the best out of the entire class!”
I think I am modest. However, some may not agree. That doesn’t effect me because modesty is situational I believe. Something I am proud of, I needn’t be modest about. I have earned it, why be modest. On the contrary I like people who are modest. Is it weird ?
There are a million girls that went to my high school that were Mormon. They had this idea that modest is hottest. I went to homecoming with a Mormon guy and his parents freaked out when i didn’t want to wear a dress with sleeves. I hated it and they made us break up because they thought I would be a bad influence on him. He was my best friend and little did they know he hated going to church with them. I must be the bad influence.
Modestly, the mouse took a while to say goodbye to the little train that he had in his eye and he cried, just a little bit, but by the looks of it he couldn’t see what he was missing, which was right under his nose. A piece of cheese, a music note in place. That’s true, said the blind mice and the men who were modestly unnoticed and disguised as being mice themselves. Man, what a weird world.
“Really? I don’t know.. I mean, I like it but I don’t think it’s THAT good. Far from it.” I say, excited and take my script back from her. “Do you think I have a chance?”
i have nothing to bear
i cannot think of anything else
but to be modest– above it all
chosen and selected i was
very far from society
never will i
see the end of humanity
And it was all a dream. The moon couldn’t remain modest, and neither could its shine on top of the grass, which soaked up all of the milk. All that stood in its light remained for an eternal moment. Stars arranged like the rhythms of a traveling dance gathered to listen to the infinite echo of the a magic step. This step in this moment would follow him, haunting his world all the while an old incantation sung in his ear the ancient tales of hazardous love.
I’m not modest. I’m neither honest or dishonest.To my mother, I haven’t been the calmest, but to my brother I’m the coolest. As the girls say, I’m the prettiest. In the basketball team, the tallest. And after practice, in the shower, the longest. Well, back in high school, I must say that I was pretty average, but now I’m the smartest. I’m the truest to myself. I told you, and am not afraid to say I’m not modest.
Modesty is key in not embarrassing yourself. If you are a braggart and constantly make claims you can’t substantiate, embarrassment will surely come your way. If you are modest, on the other hand, and say “I can’t do that very well”, then people will be pleasantly surprised and impressed when you can.
she was modest. not that fake sort that is too often seen, impossible to affect and leaking from every tilted, too-long gaze of teenage girls and second date college students trying to hide their hangovers and last nights hickeys
He lived a life of modest proportions, keeping his garden neat and tidy, but letting his small house show its age. His clothes were not always new, and never flashy; he did not drive a car, but used buses most of the time. Thus it was a surprise when, after his death, his brother found several suitcases full of cash among his otherwise mundane belongings.
I’m just thinking aloud. It was an uneventful morning. She was just real pretty this morning. Modest looking. But very pretty. That’s the only highlight of the day. Let’s get this moving though. I don’t have too much time for anything but a drink.
Without trumpets of fanfare or shouts of “look at me, look at me” the sun rises and shines forth it splendorous light. Quietly and with out grumbling, magnificent ciders and the other tremendous members of that family, work hard at turning our waste into the very oxygen we need to survive – they sing no praise for themselves. Modest is this wonderful planet, though it’s majesty knows no bounds.
“He’s smart, good looking and oh! Modest. He’s very, very modest Mary. Not only that but he’s got a boatload of money. Apparently the right girl just hasn’t crossed his path yet so you hold just put yourself out there for once.”
I pursed my lips, averting my eyes to a different spot in the courtyard once James caught my gaze. “Yes, I know Aunt Sherline…you’ve told me a thousand times over.”
She frowned, as if I’d deeply offended her. “No need to get testy, child, I’m only trying to help you know. Considering that you’re not fighting off men with swords it’s about time you did something for yourself.”
“Then let me for once,” I muttered hotly under my breath.
She was a modest sort of woman. She never cut her hair too short or kept it too long. Red was never in her closet. All of her favorite things were white and plain as winter mornings. So it shocked everyone from Main Street to Beecham Street when she left the house wearing yellow.
Modesty was not his best policy. He couldn’t not bring himself to not boast about his accomplishments. After all, he elevated himself from being a heroin addict. He deserved it. Who the fuck had time to be modest anyway?
Modesty isn’t something you’d find in everyone, it is a trait shared only by a few. But the ones that have it, are the kind of people that you want to have around, modesty is not something you can find or learn, either you have it or you don’t. And “he” had it, he was the most modest man of all.
Modesty killed the… alligator? How is it that I can only think in terms of weird animals now? Condor. Albatross. Parakeet. Wait. These are birds. Apalache. Now, this isn’t even an animal. Blue. Trapped. Parakeet. Carrot. Blue waffle. Onion. Modest. Oh wait.
the girl sat from him wild and outrageous in manner and dress. Wild and outrageous but forlorn and sad beneath the thin exterior. Modesty was not in her repertoire. She raged against it. But it was a frail battle one that she had to force herself to commit to each day.
I am mostly modest
And most likely honest.
So what it is then
That i feel like hell
When i tell a lie
and i have no need or why.
Sometimes I am not modest
But none knowest.
So all in all.
Lets be modest and say
This poem is okay
simple gown
simple hair
simple life
or not
simple face
simple jewelry
simple things
or not
extraordinary gown
extraordinary jewelry
extraordinary life
is what I want
False is the opposite of right, it’s the bad brother of right because no one likes false, but everybody like right. I feel bad about false because there must be some right about him too.
she was modest in her mind, but wished everything in return.
“i’m modest”, she’d say buying a dozen of shoes.
she may be modest on the inside
but on the outside, those laws don’t abide.
The dress that Sherry wore was fairly modest, with a pastel tone that wouldn’t distract or alarm the more conservative crowd at the city hall. She was there to support her older sister, Erika, in her quest to become the town’s next council member. Stopping by the long table that was set full-blazen with food and beverages, Sherry stopped to pluck a piece of swiss on a toothpick from a plate and look for a good bottle of Pinot Noir.
Her modest attire clashed with her loud bold make up. Like she hadn’t decided what role she was going to play in the world, like she was still searching for her part. But she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to not fit in. You can be prudish or you can be a feisty, but somewhere between makes you a worthless misfit. You gotta belong to a group. She had a spark, that made her less matronly, more fun. So she’d have to stop dressing modest to really be herself, only to be told then that she’s just another whore. But hey, even sluts live better lives than the loners.
The issue with modesty is that there is no simple international definition. Modesty in Saudi Arabia means absolute concealment. In America, the difference in clothing between the modest and the immodest is mere centimeters.
Bleeding in his modest house – quick, stick a piece of tissue on it – push on, push on, your queen awaits, you could never be late – you think she’s gorgeous, but she makes most people nauseous – she is like low tide, leaves men stranded on a slick and stinking beach – you will always be a modest clone, allowed to scour her majesty’s cold and sacred stone, but never to walk as an equal upon it.
He pretended to be modest but he was really an exhibitionist of sorts. The small town boy made good was just a mask to hide his need to be watched and praised. Some said he was at his best only when others watched him… adored him…
He had no reason to be modest, other than to aggravate me further.
Full set of hair– check. Bright colorful eyes– check. Good job– check. Volunteer work– check. This man had a soul, a paycheck, and a pleasing aesthetic, and to top it all off he had an infuriatingly reigned in appreciation of himself.
Addressing the Criolo directly, the modest bishop took his letter and walked it across the street from the cathedral, across the dusty yet neatly kept street to the towns post office. This matter was of utmost importance and dealt with a young girl whose condition was stirring anxiousness into the friers and the priests, as they were suspicious that she was possessed by a devil.
peach-lips aimed for kissing suns,
but I don’t really think you wanted to grow.
perhaps you simply wished for the
sake of wishing–for the sake of living,
the way dreamers dream to keep imagination.
you, in your light pink sweaters, and
your lace-feet, pattering across the hallway
to the window, where you’d sit perched for hours,
your small form tucked within blankets and mine.
She dressed modestly as she could. She did not to bring attention to herself. The more she dressd consevertly the more no one would report her as the one who assinated the President
The modest man lived in a modest home full of nothing. Away from everything his modesty can be perceived as integrity. This man loves all but secludes himself from them. He can neither hate nor love. Is this man the ideal man or should we shun those of which don’t fit in societies mold?
Who’s modest in this world? Everybody’s seen everything. She arches her back, attempting to smooth over her breasts, and thinks, harshly, Who’s modest in this world? Who has seen everything?
It’s spread. It’s everywhere. It’s on the blurring television screens, on the ground of tough Las Vegas, in the form of women with their legs spread, vaginas dotted with stars. Who’s seen everything? she thinks, a poor whore, a modelesque statue of a woman. Who’s seen everything?
Some days, as I reflect all the things i have done in my life, I feel I have held so much back. i have not been able to pin point the reasons why I never allowed myself to do certain things or act a certain way, or even wear certain things. Most likely, I feared being judged. by whom, I am unsure of. What I am sure of is I do not want people to think poorly of me. Thinking about it now it seems silly but still I fear it. I like these people, who ever they are, to see that I have made good choices; that I was a good person. However, when reminded of my bad choices, it’s a punch to the ego. I question every decision I have ever made on my own, so when someone else does that for me, especially those I love, it hurts me. Why is it so wrong to want to do things “by the book”? It took me so long to accept myself with the title of Single Mom, or Divorcee. But deep down it was never something I ever expected, wanted or have come to terms with. I failed. Maybe it was because I cut a few corners on the way but I did my best. I remained sheltered, I didn’t allow myself to fall into temptation. I guess that is what I keep telling myself. It’s the only way I can look in the mirror. It never works out the way you hope, though. The past remains in your presence and your future; and its the number one reason why no one wants you.
My friend is so modest. She so kind and caring but whats standed out to me the most was her modesty. She was modest to everyone. Except one day I had a mental block writing about modesty!!!! Because I’m 11 and well I hardly know what it is!! I’m a good writer though!!! Opps times up!!!
She bit back her response, which was complete with flushed cheeks a light sheen of nervous sweat. “Stop being so modest,” she finally said. “You did the best out of the entire class!”
I think I am modest. However, some may not agree. That doesn’t effect me because modesty is situational I believe. Something I am proud of, I needn’t be modest about. I have earned it, why be modest. On the contrary I like people who are modest. Is it weird ?
There are a million girls that went to my high school that were Mormon. They had this idea that modest is hottest. I went to homecoming with a Mormon guy and his parents freaked out when i didn’t want to wear a dress with sleeves. I hated it and they made us break up because they thought I would be a bad influence on him. He was my best friend and little did they know he hated going to church with them. I must be the bad influence.
Modestly, the mouse took a while to say goodbye to the little train that he had in his eye and he cried, just a little bit, but by the looks of it he couldn’t see what he was missing, which was right under his nose. A piece of cheese, a music note in place. That’s true, said the blind mice and the men who were modestly unnoticed and disguised as being mice themselves. Man, what a weird world.
“Really? I don’t know.. I mean, I like it but I don’t think it’s THAT good. Far from it.” I say, excited and take my script back from her. “Do you think I have a chance?”
i have nothing to bear
i cannot think of anything else
but to be modest– above it all
chosen and selected i was
very far from society
never will i
see the end of humanity
conceal me
into the pit of darkness
And it was all a dream. The moon couldn’t remain modest, and neither could its shine on top of the grass, which soaked up all of the milk. All that stood in its light remained for an eternal moment. Stars arranged like the rhythms of a traveling dance gathered to listen to the infinite echo of the a magic step. This step in this moment would follow him, haunting his world all the while an old incantation sung in his ear the ancient tales of hazardous love.
I’m not modest. I’m neither honest or dishonest.To my mother, I haven’t been the calmest, but to my brother I’m the coolest. As the girls say, I’m the prettiest. In the basketball team, the tallest. And after practice, in the shower, the longest. Well, back in high school, I must say that I was pretty average, but now I’m the smartest. I’m the truest to myself. I told you, and am not afraid to say I’m not modest.
Modesty is key in not embarrassing yourself. If you are a braggart and constantly make claims you can’t substantiate, embarrassment will surely come your way. If you are modest, on the other hand, and say “I can’t do that very well”, then people will be pleasantly surprised and impressed when you can.
she was modest. not that fake sort that is too often seen, impossible to affect and leaking from every tilted, too-long gaze of teenage girls and second date college students trying to hide their hangovers and last nights hickeys
He lived a life of modest proportions, keeping his garden neat and tidy, but letting his small house show its age. His clothes were not always new, and never flashy; he did not drive a car, but used buses most of the time. Thus it was a surprise when, after his death, his brother found several suitcases full of cash among his otherwise mundane belongings.
I’m just thinking aloud. It was an uneventful morning. She was just real pretty this morning. Modest looking. But very pretty. That’s the only highlight of the day. Let’s get this moving though. I don’t have too much time for anything but a drink.
it was not in her make up to blow her own trumpet; if she had done so, she would have felt like a fraud.
Without trumpets of fanfare or shouts of “look at me, look at me” the sun rises and shines forth it splendorous light. Quietly and with out grumbling, magnificent ciders and the other tremendous members of that family, work hard at turning our waste into the very oxygen we need to survive – they sing no praise for themselves. Modest is this wonderful planet, though it’s majesty knows no bounds.
“He’s smart, good looking and oh! Modest. He’s very, very modest Mary. Not only that but he’s got a boatload of money. Apparently the right girl just hasn’t crossed his path yet so you hold just put yourself out there for once.”
I pursed my lips, averting my eyes to a different spot in the courtyard once James caught my gaze. “Yes, I know Aunt Sherline…you’ve told me a thousand times over.”
She frowned, as if I’d deeply offended her. “No need to get testy, child, I’m only trying to help you know. Considering that you’re not fighting off men with swords it’s about time you did something for yourself.”
“Then let me for once,” I muttered hotly under my breath.
She was a modest sort of woman. She never cut her hair too short or kept it too long. Red was never in her closet. All of her favorite things were white and plain as winter mornings. So it shocked everyone from Main Street to Beecham Street when she left the house wearing yellow.
Modesty was not his best policy. He couldn’t not bring himself to not boast about his accomplishments. After all, he elevated himself from being a heroin addict. He deserved it. Who the fuck had time to be modest anyway?
Modesty isn’t something you’d find in everyone, it is a trait shared only by a few. But the ones that have it, are the kind of people that you want to have around, modesty is not something you can find or learn, either you have it or you don’t. And “he” had it, he was the most modest man of all.
Modesty killed the… alligator? How is it that I can only think in terms of weird animals now? Condor. Albatross. Parakeet. Wait. These are birds. Apalache. Now, this isn’t even an animal. Blue. Trapped. Parakeet. Carrot. Blue waffle. Onion. Modest. Oh wait.
the girl sat from him wild and outrageous in manner and dress. Wild and outrageous but forlorn and sad beneath the thin exterior. Modesty was not in her repertoire. She raged against it. But it was a frail battle one that she had to force herself to commit to each day.
I am mostly modest
And most likely honest.
So what it is then
That i feel like hell
When i tell a lie
and i have no need or why.
Sometimes I am not modest
But none knowest.
So all in all.
Lets be modest and say
This poem is okay
simple gown
simple hair
simple life
or not
simple face
simple jewelry
simple things
or not
extraordinary gown
extraordinary jewelry
extraordinary life
is what I want
The accommodations were modest compared to Helene’s house, but there was enough space for them to set everything up if they were careful.
False is the opposite of right, it’s the bad brother of right because no one likes false, but everybody like right. I feel bad about false because there must be some right about him too.
she was modest in her mind, but wished everything in return.
“i’m modest”, she’d say buying a dozen of shoes.
she may be modest on the inside
but on the outside, those laws don’t abide.
The dress that Sherry wore was fairly modest, with a pastel tone that wouldn’t distract or alarm the more conservative crowd at the city hall. She was there to support her older sister, Erika, in her quest to become the town’s next council member. Stopping by the long table that was set full-blazen with food and beverages, Sherry stopped to pluck a piece of swiss on a toothpick from a plate and look for a good bottle of Pinot Noir.
Her modest attire clashed with her loud bold make up. Like she hadn’t decided what role she was going to play in the world, like she was still searching for her part. But she hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to not fit in. You can be prudish or you can be a feisty, but somewhere between makes you a worthless misfit. You gotta belong to a group. She had a spark, that made her less matronly, more fun. So she’d have to stop dressing modest to really be herself, only to be told then that she’s just another whore. But hey, even sluts live better lives than the loners.
The issue with modesty is that there is no simple international definition. Modesty in Saudi Arabia means absolute concealment. In America, the difference in clothing between the modest and the immodest is mere centimeters.
Bleeding in his modest house – quick, stick a piece of tissue on it – push on, push on, your queen awaits, you could never be late – you think she’s gorgeous, but she makes most people nauseous – she is like low tide, leaves men stranded on a slick and stinking beach – you will always be a modest clone, allowed to scour her majesty’s cold and sacred stone, but never to walk as an equal upon it.
He pretended to be modest but he was really an exhibitionist of sorts. The small town boy made good was just a mask to hide his need to be watched and praised. Some said he was at his best only when others watched him… adored him…
He had no reason to be modest, other than to aggravate me further.
Full set of hair– check. Bright colorful eyes– check. Good job– check. Volunteer work– check. This man had a soul, a paycheck, and a pleasing aesthetic, and to top it all off he had an infuriatingly reigned in appreciation of himself.
“I wish you would have worn something a little more modest my dear” my grandmother whispered in my ear.
I thought I was pretty modest, my baby doll dress fell just above the knee.
Addressing the Criolo directly, the modest bishop took his letter and walked it across the street from the cathedral, across the dusty yet neatly kept street to the towns post office. This matter was of utmost importance and dealt with a young girl whose condition was stirring anxiousness into the friers and the priests, as they were suspicious that she was possessed by a devil.
peach-lips aimed for kissing suns,
but I don’t really think you wanted to grow.
perhaps you simply wished for the
sake of wishing–for the sake of living,
the way dreamers dream to keep imagination.
you, in your light pink sweaters, and
your lace-feet, pattering across the hallway
to the window, where you’d sit perched for hours,
your small form tucked within blankets and mine.
She gazed at him from under her hat as a modest woman would shyly, when he looked at her from across the room, and it was love at first site.
She dressed modestly as she could. She did not to bring attention to herself. The more she dressd consevertly the more no one would report her as the one who assinated the President
The modest man lived in a modest home full of nothing. Away from everything his modesty can be perceived as integrity. This man loves all but secludes himself from them. He can neither hate nor love. Is this man the ideal man or should we shun those of which don’t fit in societies mold?
Who’s modest in this world? Everybody’s seen everything. She arches her back, attempting to smooth over her breasts, and thinks, harshly, Who’s modest in this world? Who has seen everything?
It’s spread. It’s everywhere. It’s on the blurring television screens, on the ground of tough Las Vegas, in the form of women with their legs spread, vaginas dotted with stars. Who’s seen everything? she thinks, a poor whore, a modelesque statue of a woman. Who’s seen everything?