Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

October 20, 2019, 04:53:43 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti

Saturday-Homesick



Word of the Day
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286  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Wiggle on: March 24, 2016, 07:29:05 PM
Blackened leaves steep in steaming tea, deep walnut table for two, but it's only me sitting there. I wiggle in my seat, rubbing tense shoulders against firm blue foam of the booth, smell of sesame oil and roibose pumping in and out of the thick air. Sometimes I imagine someone sitting across from me, instead of the beige wall and oil painting that I whisper one-sided conversations to, sipping from my cup as it's wispy aroma calms my nerves and heats my thin frame. I move in twitching motions, stretching wrist and torso, feeling like an inchworm or a jellyfish, no bones just muscles that creak and crack with every twist and pull. I clang down my cup too noisily and draw stares from across the cafe. Time seems to free--   
287  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Igniter on: March 18, 2016, 05:43:10 PM
Soft hands, singed hairs curling over like burnt fields of wheat. I bounce my hand out, patch of skin turning a blistery red. This is one of the first things ever done for survival since the dawn of time, fires built for heat and light and sacrifice. And I can't even start my stove. I feel a stick of sweat from all my efforts, so at least I'm warm. I can still see my breathes, they come out then hide like a disappearing act. Little singed newspapers sit staring at me like they know I'm no real igniter. Finally I ditch my flimsy lighter and get a can of gasoline. Instant flames as light pours across the garage and flickers sideways. I can taste the roasted shishkabobs, crispy beef and charred veggies dripping onto my plate, making my stomach whine and  Sometimes it pays to cheat. 
288  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Valedictorian on: March 14, 2016, 06:38:22 PM
Quietly she walks along the street in soggy shoes, rain water puddles up in uneven sidewalks and pours over rusty storm grates, wet asphalt smells of tar and greasy gas fumes. Her hands tremble as she pulls them into her drawn pockets, water slicking off her jacket hood and forming an arc as it slides down and around her erect frame. Warm light and fresh cooked meat transmit from a window frame, but her pockets are empty and she stands and braces herself against the gusts like some disgraced valedictorian, still keeps her shoulders erect and swallows the tears that threaten to choke her. Sighs heavily and   
289  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Fig on: March 12, 2016, 07:24:06 PM
The bright contrast of colors flashes by as I walk the fruit stands, a gold mine of sweet wafts mingling yet each distinct. I thumb open my old leather wallet, flipping through by my waxy paper bills- all with Washington's face on them- mental math as I decide how much can be bought. My fist closes around a handful of green sappy figs and my mind turns back, back to rainy days and picking the sticky fruit from brittle branches, sugary bliss enveloping my taste buds, mouth pasty and lips globbing together, family gatherings, claustrophobia & small-talk, eating to avoid it until my stomach felt like it would stretch to the ground, though I'd probably be hungry again in an hour... The crowd tightens around me and I finish buying, dancing in little movements to the old radio blasting 80's power rock from behind the tables. 
290  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Signal on: March 12, 2016, 07:09:22 PM
Thanks Jordan, much appreciated!
291  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Signal on: March 11, 2016, 11:36:06 PM
Eyes adjusting to the dusky dark as I blink furiously, vision a laser show, the neon green numbers softly illuminate my bedstand. Curved back hunching I wait until my mind can become aware. Outside running and whining yells and laughter of kids echoes down the street. I wonder if a signal woke me, some subconscious flare telling me that I should call her. My cell rattles against the hard oak and I see a flicker of hope- a beckoning flash. Bitter nerves that I can almost taste as I crane my neck, diving in slow-motion across my sheets. Her soft cheeks and pink pretty smile thumping against my head. I think I'm awake now. insides fill with butterflies and ghosts and I flip the screen...   
292  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Catalog on: March 07, 2016, 07:21:43 PM
Pages blow back and forth through the open pane, boredom sits in his mind as he mindlessly flips through the catolog, full of glossy cars with dreamy glints and prices he'll never afford. The chair creaks and he stretches his back, arching it like a lazy cat, drips of palak sauce drip down the side of the take-out container, still on his taste buds and his stomach breathes contentedly. Green crack down the cold linoleum floor, toes numb, mind mindless as he throws the car catalog in the trash ruefully, closing his eyes and waiting for the clock to spin to 5 crooked shelves hold neglected books and things forgotten, the breeze blows harder and-- 
293  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Rider on: February 29, 2016, 06:50:53 PM
Dust kicks up in the air, pixies flying in all directions. yellow light spills down from the cloudless sky, smell of manure and inhalation of dry dirt particles, they cover my face until I look like a different ethnicity. Bow-legged, clutching the worn black leather reigns like a steering wheel I steal my hand down the dirty blonde neck and mane, soft, with little bumps of coarse tufts and flies trying to burrow in. The trees whirl by like strangers on the sidewalk as I ride, rush of adrenaline pulsing as we gain speed. Ribbons of wind fly at me and my eyes become faucets, leaving damp marks down my face, salty eye water rolls onto my lips and I lick it away.
294  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Inchworm on: February 26, 2016, 06:22:04 PM
I sit sipping from a hot thermus, steam fluming like peacock feathers. Soft shadows play across the dirt and pine needles cling to trees, wind threatening to excommunicate them from the  hardened branches. I stare at what's left of the fire, representing last night's crazy charade, dancing, laughing and yelling hysteria at nothing in particular, greasy meat roasting and dripping fat into the orange embers, white chunks of marshmellow that oozed sugary goodness and still crusted crumbs sit around the edge of my mouth. The fire is no longer a fire, but a bed of charcoal and fading smouldering soot, soon it will breakdown into the ground with the inchworms roots, I shiver in the tepid morning. I feel burnt out, as the fire, my breathes deep and sleepy   
295  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Windmill on: February 24, 2016, 07:39:04 PM
Multiple choice, a) b) c) d), letters fuzz and fade as my eyes flounder in concentration. pencil lead almost inky as I fill in the bubbles, glancing up at the clock that seams to laugh as it ticks each thunderous hand towards the end of the hour. Taste of dry breathe, wishing I was a smoker, had some distraction or way to get out of this as my mind spins like a windmill on a breezy day, nervous sweat forms tiny beads that hit my clothes and my neck aches, stiff with apprehension and trying to hard. Waves of chalky white slide over the old scratchy chalk board, Ms. White scrubbing it clean with broad swipes, my ears prick with dissonance when her nail catches and the screech makes us all look up. Apologetic look and then stern eyebrows turn in and tell us to focus, but that is something my mind will not do. Shaky hands white at the knuckles as I clutch the no. 2 and breathe out with a gallop of air 
296  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / glacier on: February 22, 2016, 07:45:34 PM
The steam rises off the black pavement, feathers of sun and as I jog I melt- a human glacier going through global warming. My earbuds hang from my ears, rhythmic bleed of music giving strength to my determination, viney wire sliding down to the jack and hitting against my collarbone, pendulum moving up and down with my arms and knees.

Ghosts of buildings sit leaning, cock-eyed and I keep moving, heartbeat as rapid as the last time I asked a girl out. Smell of burgers and juicy fries lunges by me and my craving mouth drips with saliva, calories calling me and t-
297  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Canopy on: February 19, 2016, 07:43:07 PM
As we all fill in to the small car, sweat-marked shirts and bony elbows knocking together like the metal swings of a pendulum, the drooping fabric canopy rubs my hair, static electricity flaring wisps of it and we feel every bump, my bladder full and ready to burst and I feel like I'm in the circus, under the big leather canvas, the dusty stage becoming a spectacle of wonder as melting icecream slides down little boy's mouth's and juggling clowns smile that oversized red and white smile... 'almost there' I think as our circus brigade swerves around corners and we gasp to swallow fresher air, tense shoulders folded like a rag doll, skinny arms and   
298  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Mirror on: February 17, 2016, 10:09:41 PM
Memories glide into my thoughts, picking them up and taking them back. Reflections, distorted and ominous, shadowy monsters, unsteady footing as my eyes deceive me and colors stretch across the mirrors. Greasy skin, queasy insides, and taste of burgers and chocolate milkshake linger in my mouth, remind me that I'm still not hungry, slides and angles and my mind is bedazzled in this house of mirrors. Claustrophobia threatens my breath, ropes of color and shapes and I finally wander out into daylight again, feeling a new appreciation, noisy street filled with busy, steamy pavement and skin withering in the outside sun, but at least I know where I'm going. Piles of memories sit unused inside, like old toys that I've outgrown, but I'll always remember being lost in that house of mirrors. I feel salt in the air again, ocean close enough to be felt but not seen, slipping in and out of weekend crowds I wander, lost in my own world, reaching for more adventures, but at the same time afraid of rides, of being turned up side down and losing 
299  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Arbor on: February 15, 2016, 07:18:38 PM
Tiny feet, shoeless & running around tables, crawling under chairs, belly scraping the grass, watching from a distance as the arbor is hammered in place and pink and white flowers cover it, soon I'll have to walk slowly and behave myself as I carry the shiny silver ring in my shy fingers. frosted cake makes me swallow and my insides growl, mom chirping at me to get cleaned up as she runs a bristled brush through my tangled nest of hair. Cars approach, strangers exiting dressed in ties, bright dresses and glued smiles and excitement. The water rises and falls in the background, frothy and foamy like a cup of hot chocolate
300  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Sigh on: February 11, 2016, 06:31:14 PM
I lay snaked in a fetal position, blue walls seem to stare back at me, like oceans I can almost hear them sigh and I sigh back. Dirty dishes and swollen sponge and me sighing. My breathe pushes in and out, like wind in my chest, now howling, now calm and quiet, it flows through my teeth, spilling out of flaring nostrils and into the world as I sigh. Round, ringed stains of water line the old table, it's wood varnish fading, my lips sip the hot mint tea and "ouch!" my tongue is suddenly numb I sigh. Flecks of crumbs and evidence of my inactivity. Some days are just sighing days.     
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