Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

November 16, 2018, 10:04:45 AM
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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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Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 16
1  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Menu on: October 24, 2018, 09:54:40 PM
Young and timid with flush red cheeks, a boy once under the dictator like intimidation of his father, was now the owner of a small family owned restaurant.   His ideas have been sizzling on his mind for years and now the menu was his.   A bobbing, chattering line of hungry customers awaits the newly displayed eatery.    His hands are sweaty, either from 325 degree ovens surrounding him, or his passion that now escapes from him like hot steam.    In a tunnel of focus he quickly takes in the calm moments before the bustle.   Fresh green basil, sweet parsley, and bitter fennel are his colors to paint his first masterpiece, something to keep the legacy intact.  His steady hands holds the knife like a lover or an old friend letting them know that everything was going to be ok and he would provide.   Worrying thoughts are rotisserie spikes turning his heart over a possible disaster.   As if trying to cut the salty bitterness from their roots, he slices his negative thoughts and discards them in the trash.  He is ready to serve his dreams on white porcelain to all the waiting onlookers. 
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Medicine on: October 23, 2018, 06:18:54 PM
Wretched and weak, I pull on yellow cotton blinds letting light paint my walls with the morning.   Like a dog waiting for its owner, I stare at the door, holding onto every sound , muffled through thin shared dry wall.   My bed still smells of her honey and lemon.  My medicine for a sickening world, I cannot wait to drink her sweet strengthening kisses, her soothing words that calm my ever building pain.   A million miles away, if only one, I begin wasting into the wrinkled sheets.    Shadows play tricks on my walls telling stories of our love.   
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Pen on: October 23, 2018, 05:38:58 AM
Pressing softly into a snowy canvas, the writer squints as if to physically force a thought to spill out onto the page.   Curves and blocks engrave themselves linking her thoughts like a tight rope.   Carefully balancing between insane and genius one strong gust could send her into heaven or hell.   A sweet pine candle dances  on the musky oak desk conjuring writers past, present and future.   A muffled tic of the mid century wall clock taunts her with her waiting deadlines quickening as if to match her pulse.  Filling and emptying her soul, she leaves it all on the flat white sheet.
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Thunder on: October 20, 2018, 04:39:48 PM
Grey cotton clouds cover the 2pm sun, only allowing beams of lights to rain down on us as we chase each other in the yard.   Electricity tugs on our hairs making us conductors of child like energy.    Ohio summer’s smell of fresh grass, wet pavement, and a thickness that signaled an oncoming storm.   The weight of the atmosphere, ancient and primal, flashes like lightning causing all to stop in our tracks and look towards the rolling waves of darkness.  Big red soda, sweet chemical strawberry, stains our tongues, lips, and shouts as we are suddenly presented with the first strike of the might tempest.  Our fingers all point ecstatically, and the countdown begins.  “1,2,3...Boom”  The sky yells back at us sending us into a flurry of sugar filled excitement.   Warm drops trickle down my head and onto my striped blue, white and yellow Osh Kosh shirt. The moment is sealed forever.
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Telephone on: October 19, 2018, 06:43:12 PM
Tightly coiled conversations spill from our mouths. I wrap the old chord around my curled index finger occasionally bitting my pinky nail, an old habit I have had since elementary school.  My heart pounds with each passing word, hanging on a cliff of excitement.   Our digital connection was becoming more real before my very ears.   Her voice was sultry, a tenor sweet and kind.   Stories and compliments are marbles in mouth jumbled, squeaking out of my cracked adolescent throat.   I imagine she smells of rose and lavender right now, as she recounts her day’s work in her grandmother’s overgrown garden.   The floor nearly drops from underneath me as she asks for my weekend plans.  Will be actually meet in person?  A lump in my esophagus nearly keeps me from uttering a painful ...”nothing, what are you doing?”  I can taste my shaky, inexperienced copper blood on my tongue all the while yelling in my head, “Keep it together man!”  With a click and pause, my heart burst with joy at the thought of my first date.
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Church on: October 19, 2018, 04:47:24 PM
Thanks!
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / T Shirt on: October 19, 2018, 05:57:36 AM
Summer’s flag of freedom slid off of her shoulder.  A black Slayer t shirt cut in sliced to perfection, exposing two sleeveless arms and tan stomach.    Flying high on a pink vintage beach cruiser praising the sun and riding the warm wind full of aromas of white cherry blossom and opportunity.  Sticky strawberry chapstick shined across her mouth like diamonds off a cresting wave.   Youth’s chains whizzed as her bike sailed down the boardwalk.   A big open sky and mid July asphalt mapped out her path to anything is possible.   Heart beats and headphones dance to the rhythm of her spokes. 
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Church on: October 17, 2018, 11:49:40 PM
Crystalized memories shine like kaleidoscopes as we pass through stained glass archways.   An early Sunday morning inhale burns with the crisp fall air.   Following my family single files line and the echos of our black soled hard heels still shiny and new from lack of use.  The vast opening of the  cathedral pulls my breath from my chest as it had to many times before.  My gaze darts from symbol to symbol dizzying me just in time to take seat.   Dull spearmint chews ring among the silent murmers of a waiting congregation.   The pulpit’s sweet and sour odor of judgement and regret covered with smiles and handshakes of lost souls fills changes my expression .  I’ve never really felt safe here, only scared small like mice that run through the old wooden walls that surround us.   
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Cotton Candy on: May 23, 2018, 06:13:26 AM
You made me feel just like a kid again.  Wrapped around your slender red tipped fingers, IBM so sweet on you.  Walking on pink clouds moments before the sun drops low enough to turn the canvas behind into a diamond filled sky.  Laughter from seagulls making lazy figure eights sailing into infinity as if to say we'd be together forever.  Fluffed and puffed with exaggerated gestures I knew you had hit me harder than my sugar pangs.  Sweet and gritty the swirled confection was passed back and forth until we devoured it at the end of the Santa Monica pier.   My hands sticky and ready to explore your soft exterior I waited for the right moment to plant a kiss.  I let the sea air's scent set the mood for fit for a classic 90S movie.  My heart pounded like the waves against the wood of support beams and our tongues swirled and twirled around each other each kiss more sugar coated than the last.   Our whispers disputed into the approaching fog and we walked into the white Ferris wheel lit night.
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / New Orleans on: May 09, 2018, 06:47:51 AM
Drenched in Jazz and neon daiquiri sunsets, the sticky streets are filled with survivors laughing at the eye of the storm.   Bustling cobbled streets spin like horse drawn carriages filled with big brimmed tourists.  Zydeco happy hours ring out like brass and the marble tombs remain overgrown and filled with fighters past.  Not even acts of God can keep us from our celebrations.   The seaside smells musky from swap water rising up like heatwaves from the humid summer night.  We stumble from bar to bar soaking up all the late night music as if we are the only ones in the room.   Drops of condensation run from our drinks and we run form morning.
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Donut on: April 10, 2018, 05:29:49 AM
My cheeks pressed the warm glass exhaling a heat and breathing in the fluffy sugar swirls that danced on the nose and mouth of everyone inside.  Early morning light rolls into the streets now filling with beeps and bumps of a waking city.  The cold that once wrested the night now dissipates into the butte filled flaky circles that will most likely be gone before the hands on the wall read 7am.  My heart speeds up at our steps close in on the register and the tall, humbly dressed Vietnamese man behind the counter.  You can tell he had been up since 3am by the color of the bags he carried under his soft eyes.  i meagerly ask for one dozen donut holes, the man leaves and return with a pink box nearly overflowing with gooey glazed morsels ready to be devoured.  Wash it down with a 12 oz creamy sugar filled milk chocolate and I will be set for the day, bouncing off the walls, but set.  I can feel the sugar coursing through my veins and I vanish into a world where only this meal and I exist.  My hands are sticky, bouncing each ball into my mouth as if sinking free throws I take each one down with a gulp.  A line of people begins uncoiling and wrapping the building like a maple glazed snake ready to attack.  All eyes watch the unmistaken pink rectangle and count each item, wishing it was theirs, but they will have to wait their turn. 
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / New Orleans on: April 08, 2018, 03:39:10 PM
Watching fire rise from the rivers of the Mississippi, we counted memories from the night before trying to piece together the puzzle of our adventurous all night festivities.  The street smells sticky with daiquiris and hot rain as the morning shift hoses down the small french quarter cobbled avenues.   Lost souls wander to the sound of early morning zydeco playing from the tattered speakers of the bars now opening.  A melting pot of dreams, fantasies, turmoil, and lust , we were mixed right into it like a fine made pastry.   We search for anything resembling a coffee shop in hopes of awakening our heavy eyes, bloodshot and now wincing at the rising light.  I can taste all our conversations aroused by never-ending  sweet and sour cocktails.  With the sun directly on top of us, this town is much different in the daytime, the schools of people have dissipated, if only for a few hours, an left the city to repair her broken bones.  We shall return. 
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Sofa on: April 02, 2018, 02:52:53 AM
Stuck, sinking as it pulls me into its warm embrace.  So much to do, yet so little motivation to do it.  Laughing ticking hands around my neck, the clock points to the time flying past me as if to say, you're missing It.   Heavy eyes began to shut against my face like an aromatic lavender sleeping pill.  I'm not tired but the sofa's tempting touch, pillowy and plush holds me down.  Instinctively I sprawl across the four corners of this vinyl canvas spreading my colonies to each outstretching land.  If I'm an explorer of comfort, I'd me Magellan, reaching the new uncharted positions.  The taste of chocolate hits my brain's tastebuds before I even reach for the freezer to grab a cold crunchy frozen dark chocolate bar I've been thinking about throughout the day.  As i relax into a coma like state, my limbs become limp, useless for anymore tasks or errands piling upon my to do list.  It would take a braver man than me to break from the shackles of complacency.  I'm displeased with my satisfaction of this situation.  At least there's always tomorrow.
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Hammock on: March 19, 2018, 09:14:30 PM
Swinging gently on a tropical breeze, we took turns wiping the sand from our toes with each others feet.  Laid out on soft woven , criss crossed string we stared up, through black framed ray bans creating creatures from the clouds.   Sugar laced kisses, sticky with fruit filled cocktails, were placed all over each others faces laughing at our awkward movements.   A seaside paradise , a million miles from any worries or restraints there was no time only the placement of the sun above our browning skin.  Salt caked our bodies, and the rim of our drinks clinking each time we took a sip, a cheers for all that we were grateful for.  Smooth lapping of the waves and warm Atlantic trade wind played a soundtrack I will never forget, drifting in a out of sleep it became hard to know what was real life and what was a dream, but at this point it didn't matter.  Sinking further in the hammock, I memorized each palm frond fanning above us.  Cool ice water dripping from our cups and onto our stomachs before evaporating into the heavens.   The ocean's fragrance and song kept us relaxed and energetic, slowly untying an knots in our stomach created from years of deadlines, self doubt, and pressures of the city. This is where I want to spend the rest of my days, with you, here in this place. 
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Aisle on: March 07, 2018, 04:51:45 AM
Left in the aisles of my mind I wandered aimlessly searching for a familiar face, but I only saw memories, blurry,
that passed coldly through me like an apparition.  Reaching out as to try and grasp the fading recollection, my efforts only drew out my frustrations that have haunted me so many times before.  I recognize that laugh, those murmurs muffled in the other room spilling like light through the crack in the bottom of my bedroom door.   Like shooing away smoke clouds, i shook my head to gain some perspective.  Emptiness so vast I can't help but feel connected to something much bigger than myself.  The corner of my childhood blanket, which reeked of musty laundry detergent and sweat tastes just the way i remember it.  Too big for my bed, I realize I've moved out of yesterday's forts, built by innocence, as sturdy as a house of cards. 
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