Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

July 23, 2018, 08:16:09 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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Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 8
1  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / trumpet on: March 21, 2018, 10:35:25 AM
a section of tiny knuckled eager fingers quiver and shake as tightly-pinched lips buzz through the winding spiraling golden brass horns only to lurch out the front bell cracked and broken, squeaky and flatulating, soaking my ears with nails on a chalkboard, the agonizing sound of hearing hot-crossed-buns for the ten-millionth tiring time, i think my ears are going to fall off. it never ceases, like a failed faucet dripping from the sink, drip, drip, drip, drip, endlessly through the long night, like the lonesome seconds of the clock on the wall seemingly slowing down time as you get lost in observation of it going round and round, tick...tick....tick.......tick.. counting down, to arrive at the moment when it all comes crashing down, like the weight of niagara falls or some buckling building crushing you where you stand, how I pray for that moment, in my mind, down on my hands and knees, kissing the untended toenails of jesus christ himself. you swear if those three notes dagger you in the ears one more time you might snap and cause a major scene of reverberating ruckus in an auditorium filled with 'my boy is next mozart!' parent-types....
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / swingset on: March 14, 2018, 03:21:56 PM
the creaks and rattling chains of the old playground swings dance in the autumn breeze. with winter winds on its way, the little school children stay bundled up indoors while waiting for the big yellow busses to take them all away for the day. the grey overcast sky blankets the afternoon in gloom as the last of the dried out, crispy maple leaves fall from their now naked branches to the frozen solid ground below, the old muddy footprints, as if sculpted out of cement will remain fossilized through winter until they thaw out in the coming spring only to become soft mud puddles of a foot that's long since outgrown itself through the long winter season. the landscape is as dull as its ever been this time of year, dead, brown, dry, quiet, all life seems to be bracing for the bone-chilling temperatures to come, my nose red and wet, my eyes watering from the cold, my lips chapped and cracking, my scarf wrapped tightly around just below my chin...
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Paintbrush on: January 10, 2018, 12:59:37 PM
the artist swings her brush like a magic wand
on a blank canvass soon to be muddied with her demons and nightmares
dark shades of grey and blue mixed on a pallet with a sad tint of October orange
the cracked reflections in her mind come oozing out the tip of the fine brush
paint spatters with anger at the thought of a vengeful mother and her raging jealousy toward her more beautiful and youthful daughter
surrounded by hanging white sheets in the back room with a hidden door under the staircase she hides from the chaos of that world
her art speaks the only truth she knows
her creativity and passion collide in a colossal dance of dark shades and accents of white shine
the details of her life spilled out for no one to see,
a shy butterfly too afraid of a little summer heat
she pulls the thick wooden handle of the heavy-duty brush from her worn-leather waist belt like a cougar magnum, loading it with the ammo of a super-dense yellowy paste, lifting her hand ever-so slowly, her eyes squint and eyebrows dance as she ponders the destruction soon to come, waiting and building up tension like volcano about to blow its lid....
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / deck on: January 08, 2018, 03:41:30 PM
under the sun in summer heat
the old man standing next to me
looks like the deck needs a fresh coat of green
pull out the pressure washer, it's time to get mean
carve out the color of what used to be
rusty paint chipped away in flakes from the scene
the hose fights back as the water shoots out
misty, dewy, waterfall spout
works like an eraser on the aging wood
clearing the marks and shoe prints of last year
scuffs and scrapes, i remember that splinter
left a scar on my knee looking like a blizzard in winter
ten steps down to the soft grass below
a jump from the top to fuel my ego
i press the weight of my full grown body
listening to the bending planks for weakness
it springs...
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / laser on: January 05, 2018, 05:26:30 PM
thin beams of red and neon green
shot from the stage up through the roof
they dance in motions synchronized
be careful, don't let them in your eyes

some are used to break up stones
lodged in your kidneys til out they go
the pain is sharp like giving birth
the docs compare their weight and girth

tag! you're it! you've been shot first
away i hid, and dodged your burst
we'd run through the dark
and hide behind walls
peak over our shoulders and around the corners
the siren on my chest will let me know
if i've been got by the gun you hold
i'm down for the count by elimination
next round is payback
and it's you i'm chasing.

look up into the dark black sky
a single light bolts across it now
a UFO at laser speeds
a streak of light i can't believe.

6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / haircut on: January 04, 2018, 03:37:21 PM
as a child, i never had a say when it came to snipping the hair from my head
when the weeds grew too long on top, father became the barber
from the front door, he'd call me and my brother in from the front yard
we'd race up the hill, our long hair flowing in the wake of wind left behind us
loser had to wait and watch while the other underwent the surgery
i had outgrown my days of bowl cuts and buzz cuts,
the girls started to take notice and demanded more of my preteen looks
this was troublesome for the old man, who was more like a one trick pony with a pair of scissors
he sat me down and began clipping away at my back and sides,
the fine hair fell like delicate snowflakes to my shoulders, then the floor
the tiles of the floor began to disappear with each ensuing swipe...
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Cabinet on: January 03, 2018, 11:05:28 AM
wood dust dances in circles through the air like exhaled smoke from scarlet lips in the corner of a dim lit bar. the fine, grade eleven, sandpaper whispers against the wood plank in tiny tight motions in order to achieve the smooth, virgin feel of a fresh cabinet door, ready to be mounted on gold-plated hinges, to swing open without so much as a creek; a silent unveiling of father's finest liquor. the smell of wood-stain and polyurethane cover the room in a toxic cloud of chemicals, stinging the nostrils and hammering away the space behind my eyes...
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / bell on: December 07, 2017, 05:01:55 PM
she had a butt like a bell
made my ding dong scream 'holy hell!'
she's ringing out for me as far as i can tell
like I'm at the top of the tower in the center of town
and everybody below starts crowding around
by the look of their faces, they heard the sound
she had a butt like a bell
she had a butt like a bell
she made my ding dong start to swell
oh wait, she's a dude, there's my ticket to hell
they watched me staring now they wanna watch me fall
from the top of the tower in the center of town
now the red faces of the crowd start to push and yell
a mob of believers of god's good word
they're taking their flame to this tower of wood
screaming 'you'll burn like you should! you'll burn like you should!'
i dodged a tomato and down i fell
all cause i look at the dude with a butt like a bell.

okay I'm done.
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / railroad tracks on: October 03, 2017, 12:04:15 PM
my fear runs through the bottoms of my feet as i dance along the junctions of the railroad tracks, wondering; what if the rails suddenly clamp together and my unsuspecting foot gets pinched to a pancake?! meh, i'll store that anxiety away for another day. the sun is coming up over the east, unveiling the shadows that hid the goldmine of gum and flattened pennies i had planted with my buddies the night before. crouching down at the knees i peeled the shiny copper off the cold rails and held it up to the sun, flipping it back and forth between my fingers, examining it with my squinted childish eyes. it was exactly how i imagined it would be and would fit nicely in the collection of thingamajigs that i kept inside the tackle box of boyhood beneath my bed. down along the tracks, the rocks began to fall steeply down the sides of the massive wooden planks that secured the rails; the heads of the...
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / tape on: September 07, 2017, 12:41:57 PM
someone must have been playing tug of war with this hundred dollar bill, under the tape that joined the two halves ran a scar down the center of benjamin's face. the things people will do for money.. i wonder if this bill is still valid, the ATM thinks i'm trying to prank it, spitting out the bill in the manner of sticking out its tongue and laughing at ME; the dumbass. its real though, i held it up to the light and could see the inner veins of special ink and seals letting me know this bill was very much alive, even though its stitched together by scotch tape. i wonder how many hands this paid their dues with this paper, how many trees had to be chopped down and chipped down to dust to make it, dad always made the point that money doesn't grow on trees, but it kind of does, right? i like gold, heavy like a paper weight, shiny, but not shiny as polished chrome if you ask me. the two halves of this bill tell two very different tales, on one hand, the honest man and his honest wage, sweating under the sun, aching throbbing back by supper, on the other, cocaine, hookers, stripping down to the bare essentials and beyond, the black market, turning the cheek and looking the other way, the backs that were crushed in the name of fortune and fame, cartels and hot shot wall streeters doing their dirt...
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / vase on: September 05, 2017, 04:13:06 PM
the morning rays came creeping through the low-hanging kitchen curtains sending a ufo-type beam of light to the center of the breakfast table. little specs of dust danced and swirled illuminated through the air in an effortless manner, showcasing the motion of air as mother walked on by. the tiles beneath my feet were cold icy blocks which was typical for this time of year, the end of autumn and the oncoming winter chilling its way through our poorly insulated walls. our house creaked a lot, the floor boards giving way with each and every footstep. the loose nails speak a squeaky language as my over-sized brother stomps through room. a rainbow of colors mark the centerpiece of the table, an hour-glass shaped vase about as big as my forearm, with a bouquet of sleepy sunflowers slouching out from the top, tired and fading. the vase belonged to the previous residents, once grey and full of wrinkles, time's toll on our fragile bodies; grandma and gramps still roam these halls, i can feel it, the little blonde hairs on my neck stand straight up as they invisibly enter the room and spook us from the backs of our minds. us kids and mom lock eyes as the silent moment passes...
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / sheet on: July 27, 2017, 11:57:13 AM
my hands were steamy inside of the mittens grandma knitted together, in the pendulum of a rocking chair she used to sit back in; hunched over, but enjoying the crackle of the fire as her boney, aged fingers worked the needle. outside, the snow was sweating as if was the first day of spring, large droplets of water rolled down the mega icicles that hung down over the gutters of the roof, like daggers of melting evidence. a massive sheet of black ice lay sprawled out beneath them on the driveway below; if mom wasn't careful, she'd surely take another spill stepping out of the house. rushing over to the barn-turned-garage, i snatched my grandfather's ice pick hanging up on the wall, and started chipping away at the frozen accident waiting to happen; anything for mom. winters in maine can be brutal, and they can linger-on well into the spring, blizzards like a blindsided backhand to the face...
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / blister on: June 29, 2017, 10:50:44 AM
country folk always had tough hands; stiff and coarse from working their tools in the fields all day under the baking sun. the smell of manure fermenting the air; they live in it, thus don't notice it much, but us city folk can smell it downwind from a thousand miles away. my hands are soft now, makes me feel a little deflated as a man. growing up i was all about the yard work, weed whacking the steep hill in the front of my house, spitting up grass in every direction, by the time i'd get done; the sun at about two o'clock, i'd have shin-guards of green up to my knees. sweat would trickle down my temples from the top of my head and when the breeze would pick up, it'd cool the salt rivers ever-so slightly, it made the back breaking labor less of a bitch; even if just for that moment. when the chores were all said and done, and my proud baseball lines were striped across the front lawn, i'd sprint on over across the street toward the sparkling blue lake, with it's tall skies overhead, scattered cotton-ball clouds all way up in the stratosphere; then breathe deep and launch myself as far off the end of the aluminum dock as my springboard legs would allow me to fly, soaring then crashing into the water with an echo that would make the loons flutter from across the pond. all the chips of grass would scatter from my body and disperse at the surface, and i'd be clean once again. that's what summer was all about; work hard, play hard, my blistered hands could shake on that...
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / love letter on: June 21, 2017, 01:17:08 PM
the hours late, the crickets outside my window add a serenading color to the ticking of my desk clock, down in front of me lays a blank page, college-ruled, with the ghosts and scraps of all the erased letters of the words i'm not quite sure how to say. my indecisive hand trembles, the dull point of my number two pencil taps anxiously on the paper leaving little spills of graphite and hesitation. how do you tell someone you love them? how do you ask for more? if only the open window behind me could gently blow in some ideas to get me started... well, she's a girl with dirt blonde hair, freckles dot just below her eyes and across the top of her nose, and a single dimple implodes on her right cheek, only noticeable when she smiles, and when she smiles; i can't help but notice. the feeling it gives races through my gut, wraps around my head, and carries me off into the light of her heavenly glow...
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / priest on: June 20, 2017, 11:26:57 AM
church is as stale as the bread of the body of christ. as a child i was forced to eat it, chew on it, pretend to like it. the one upside to the downer that was every sunday morning, was the taunting of my brother in the silent pews of the packed chamber. he, too young for the single-file orchestrated march to communion and forgiveness, was so eager to have a taste of what the divine priest held in his hands at the front of the line; i'd snicker at him and tell him it tasted like skittles, which of course would set him off in a fit of jealous rage, which then led to my father intervening and whisper-threatening to beat our asses red in front everybody. the thought alone of such an act stiffened us right up, and i'd sit there sucking on the cardboard cut-out of christ until it was soft and mushy enough to swallow. i've always loved music, but the Father whats-his-name was never much of a singer, with his two-tone jingles of prayer echoing all the way up through the rafters, literally left me feeling dead inside, unaroused, slouched in my seat, my ass numb; every time; jesus, just take me away already. as for everyone else, 'peace be with you, peace be with you, peace be with you, (smile), (smile), (wink), and also with you.'
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