Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

June 17, 2019, 03:31:45 AM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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1  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Wedding Bells on: June 15, 2019, 09:08:33 PM
We're our own worst critic.

"They echo through the chambers of your broken reasoning"

That's a powerful line.
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / wedding bells on: June 15, 2019, 09:05:09 PM
I remember riding a horse, smell of thick unwashed animal, loud exhales from flared nostrils, hair matted, flies kamikaze into my face. Static of air, I climb up the stirrups into the saddle, feeling my legs stretch awkwardly. The bridal and reigns jingle like wedding bells, movement startles me. There is no brake, no gas pedal, just maintaining the illusion of control. Wind brings water to my eyes, hair whipping behind my ears. This horse is reddish-brown and young, only broken in last year. I wonder at strength, hooves stepping over rocks and logs like nothing. Click of my tongue, pulling the leather handles in my stiff hands-- 
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / front door on: June 13, 2019, 04:44:07 PM
I sit, itching to go, glancing at the white pine contours of the front door. Words blur across the page, pulpy smooth, an apple sits cored on the hard counter, slivers browning in the oxidizing air. My feet press into the lauhala mat, sliding it back and across the floor. Patches barks outside, a deep, cutting bark, aimed at mynah birds sitting on the bowed telephone wires. The air tastes heavy, throat sandpapery, faint smell of dusty books I just want to go outside.   
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / chap stick on: June 12, 2019, 06:34:46 PM
I could taste her chap stick, creamy gloss sliding over my lips, faint vanilla scent. Warm breathes, steamy car windows, the rain outside patters, thudding on the roof. My cologne is overpowering, I realize, Ralph Lauren giving me a headache, dusty seat fabric suddenly itchy on my arms as she crosses the cup holder divider. A club soda sits, fizzless half-empty liquid inside. Her hand cups my cheek, leaving a burning sensation, an oily mark where I'll probably sprout a pimple. I laugh in pain at my head knocks back against the window. We sit, staring at the rain, at each other through slanted eyes. 
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / balance beam on: June 11, 2019, 07:22:55 PM
running in a marathon, colors of shoes and shirts, sweat beads on exposed skin, scrape of feet on the black road. Water station, like an oasis in the dessert, I pour it on my face, chew a powerbar, willing my legs to move, the path ahead a balance beam. My neck blotched with red, breathes a metronome. I remember watching the Olympics at home, dad with coffee breath, we eat popcorn, hot kernels burn my mouth. Gymnasts, all muscles and skin tight outfits, blue sequins glittering. Close calls, intense looks, silly deductions for feet rising or arms popping out to balance. The tears on the wooden podium as our national anthem plays, medal hanging heavy and gold. I try--     
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / unicycle on: June 10, 2019, 05:35:29 PM
Grey mist floats over the ground, water running down the river tickles my ears. I stop, breathing hard, body of dorritos and sprite cursing my name, stink of detoxing sweat.
I push my bike, thorn lodged in the tube of the front tire, which sags like 90-year-old breasts. My bike is now a unicycle, single working air-filled tire defiant and teasing, treads puffed up. Dirt dark, like coffee grounds, smudged on my calves in crisscrosses. They found a body up in these woods once, bugs and crows pecking at the decomposed bones, clothes--

*Well that took a dark turn  Shocked     
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / birthday card on: June 07, 2019, 06:09:05 PM
Sitting at a long wooden table, grains different shades of worn. Scratches on the finish, I trace one with my finger, a maze made from careless forks, fingernails, steak knives. Candles comes floating in from the dark, I see the glow of my mom's face, shadows dancing across the wall. An assault of voices of different pitches reminds me that I'm getting close to my third decade. Angel food cake, berries glaze down the side, leaving soggy spots in their wake. I breathe in, blow out hard, the room goes silent for a split second, then light floods in and cheers erupt from my friends and family. Engine hums outside, doors open and shut. My mouth opens and shuts, chewing sweet spongy birthday goodness, whip cream sticking to the corners of my mouth and nose. Candle wax puddles in bright rainbow colors---
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Polka Dot on: June 06, 2019, 05:04:40 PM
I can def relate to this feeling. Nice work setting the scene.
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Polka Dot on: June 06, 2019, 05:01:15 PM
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / polka dot on: June 06, 2019, 04:54:01 PM
Squeezing out lemons in the back yard, fresh cut citrus freckles the air, radio on the table plays positive vibrations. Tense muscles reach for fruit dripping on the outskirts of branches lichen white and scraping off the bark. Last year I flew over our house in a biplane, people little polka dots, yard like a crop circle of overgrowth and manicure engine screaming, our voices can barely keep up. Barf bags in our laps just in case my friend looks like he's gonna hurl. The plexi-glass adds a slight gausian blur to everything, like I'm wearing glasses that I don't need. Ears pop, eyes water, we land with a roller coaster bounce. Legs a little weak as gravity pushes the blood back down. Taste of humid-- 
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Balloon on: June 03, 2019, 06:37:44 PM
I remember a birthday party for my great grandmother. chairs scattered around a gymnasium, light stretching down from long ceilings. My neck tingles with chill, I hold a balloon. Yellow smiley face, paper arms and legs dangle and shimmy back and forth. Behind me, a kid tapping my shoulder I turn. Let the balloon string go. People pointing. It's up in the rafters, smiling down on us. Dad scolding, a tear trickles down my cheek. I wonder what will happen to it, banished to live in exile with the cobwebs and blinding incandescent bulbs until one day the air begins to slowly leak out of it and gravity carries it back down to it's linoleum resting place. Taste of thick chocolate frosting, smudgy on my face, fingers. Neck sore from craning I watch the balloon silently, say a prayer for it. It smiles. 
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Sunglasses on: June 01, 2019, 05:26:32 PM
Shades on my face, pushing on the bridge of my nose, a filter through the world dark lenses. They steam up when I'm eating hot potato stew, get oily when I put on sunscreen, pores lathered in white-clear zinc and chemicals. Periphery stunted when I walk in the store, cold ac dries my sweat-damp shirt to my back, I take off the Jim Beam knockoffs and slide them on top of my head. Everything is suddenly more intense, I squint at incandescent fridge lights and cold bright LED's, squeak of shopping carts and barely-audible announcements over supermarket loudspeakers. The bread isle fills my nostrils, I turn too fast, the glasses go flying I watch them like a slow-motion action scene. Bounce off the carrots and I pick them up with one lens gone, frame cracked I add superglue to the grocery list. "You get what you pay for".     
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Solar Panel on: May 31, 2019, 06:04:38 PM
Morning sweeps sunlight into the corners of my room. My eyes clam shells-still sealed shut by drowse and dreams.
The running water hits my face, cool and fluid, runs down my oily skin like tears on  my body. Fresh minty clean foams on my teeth.
The sound of movement outside, steps on the roof the solar panel is finally being installed. Years of generator fumes, gasoline spills.
Soft groan of the the inverter charging sounds like music to my ears, I stand in the shaded air and watch the numbers rise, minute by minute.
Dryer full of clothes, change from my jeans pocket ricocheting to a random rhythm, smell of tide and fabric softener. The warm of the dryer makes my face pink.
Taste of lemon slice, drips of citrus bubble in carbonation I sip, a blanket of heat covering my bare skin.
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Candle on: May 29, 2019, 07:59:14 PM
Dim lit house. Our power was out, branches knocking rudely on the window, my sister's eyes half-hidden in the candle light. Candles, like little beacons of hope. We used to collect the melted puddles of wax on our fingertips, grimacing through the heat as our fingers dried waxy white, green, red. Eating dinner, I stab blindly at peppered potatoes and skewer tough slabs of steak. Mom always overcooks the steak (she forgets). Smell of butane, hum of the lantern, little flies assemble in a drove around the flame, stuck to the glass shield. I remember lighting candles at a cancer relay for life, prayers attached, lights flickering in the breeze, a moment of silence... a candle to remember the metastasis ripping through a friend's body, killing white blood cells and withering her determined face. The warmth from the--   
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Button on: May 28, 2019, 05:19:41 PM
She tucks her daughter into bed, soft tiny arms draped around her bear, button eyes brown and searching. Soft scratchy, filled with guts of white stuffing there's a stain on it's face from when she took it outside, tea party, the bear sitting across from her in a small bright orange plastic chair, she poured the tea into his mouth and it dribbled down his chin. There were goldfish crackers, crumbs everywhere. This bear, made in a factory in Asia, pieced together with machines and old weathered fingers, now this American girl's best friend. Her mom listens to the faint sound of breathing, like a clock. The air is cool and sleepy.   
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