Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

December 18, 2018, 05:22:44 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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1  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Aisle on: June 06, 2018, 12:02:58 PM
I walk to the aisle, it's towering walls bend in around me, the world could topple down any moment.
I run in. The checkered floor bounds my speed, with a rubbery grip
I run my fingers down the smooth cereal boxes, each one with a hidden crunchy texture.  Each one with colors bright and playful.
And bags of cookies alas, their plastic wrapping krinkles in my hands. Their inner air pressures against my hungry grip,
Cool refrigerated atmosphere keeps me calm, as smooth 80's pop songs bounce through the squeaky shopping carts.
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / doctor on: June 05, 2018, 12:02:54 PM
white cushion leather lays out at a 45 degree angle
with a step pulled out at the bottom
gadget gleam hanging from the ceiling
silver, magnetic, lenses, watch me as i enter the room

My hands are clammy and red. and me knees are oddly bent to match the cushion and step distance.
I'm told to lay back which puts pressure on my lower back, and bright lights make my eyes sensitive





3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / cymbals on: October 23, 2017, 12:26:25 PM
Tin gold with fine black print: The metal makers
Smudges of dust break its reflection pattern.
I run my finger down a radius, ripples glide with my finger tips.
As glossy hisses break out of their shell,
and spread into the air, like pollen clouds.
Fruit of space, infrared waves.
Come crashing down, on my awakened face.

 
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / name on: August 23, 2017, 12:51:22 PM
Pencil led smeared across paper. With a friction reminiscent of drawing a saw down a tree. Those memories are caught by the bubbles of led. And the signature stands in the way of lawful action.
The name is written with loose curves and dragged out dots. The responsibility therein, is apparently accounted for. The first letters of the first and last name, encompass the meaning of all their surroundings.
With its signature the document holds a dark meaning. A binding contract, across a period of time. Enforceable by law and force. But a name smeared with pencil.
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Harry Potter on: August 14, 2017, 12:15:04 PM
The room is dimly lit, so to cover the clouds of dust that ploom with each step, and a green carpet to accompany the scent, of misty mold that hides there under. What imagination lies there, on a coffee table of chopped wood? The scratches and bumps of all the movements without care. Without a vision. But what lays upon the, a hint, an image. A boy, with glasses, on a broom. A book. Glowing in the light. Whose pages smell of mahogany and ink. Slick to the touch, as each page turns. What imagination lies there? What imagination lies within?
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Giant on: July 05, 2017, 12:16:06 PM
A blocky plastic sign, with depth of an optical illusion, held up by skinny black metal bars, reads "GIANT". It sits at the center of a tiled roof, each tile as rugged as sand paper. The walls are white and stuck'oed. I walk across black pavement, where the heat bounces off the ground from the sun and summer crickets are heard in a distance. The sliding doors open and a blast of cool air swirls around my body like a hug from the michelin tire man. The crisp smell of fresh produce and air conditioners calm my mind. There is a low warm buzz coming from each of the refrigerators, layed with a sound of teenage sexy voices on the radio begging for my love. Smiling cartoon characters jump out of each cereal box as I walk down the isle. And I've forgotten what I've come for.
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Love Letter on: June 21, 2017, 12:43:20 PM
The sanctuary of a desk. Whereas the peace of thoughts. The peace of writing, of love or of not. The sharpened pencil, the words are clear, and it's hard to compete, when love doesn't appear. The longing letters, remain crumbled and tossed, leaving the sanctuary of a desk, as clean as my thoughts.
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Mammoth on: June 19, 2017, 12:10:30 PM
There're a mound of papers on my desk. The corners of each stick out at different angles, angles that must have a pattern of organization if you could just look long enough... The darkness of the room weighs heavily on the emission from my small damp desk light. I run my thumb across the stack of papers, the flickering sound stretches across the room and bounces off the walls like the thoughts in my mind. Each thought kicks off before the previous one finishes, like blows to my stomach in a boxing match against my teacher. How am I ever going to finish this paper on the Wooly Mammoth?
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / chalkboard on: April 25, 2017, 01:05:24 PM
The walls are painted green with school spirit. The tile floors represent a pattern that looks old...but maybe once had a new feeling. I navigate through the tiny desks, like driving through streets of a housing development, where I find mine in its familiarity-- there are pencilled doodles, the older ones smudged and the new cleanly carved, cartoons of valence, a boy's excitement of violence and justice. A screech across the chalk board grabs my attention. It's smooth surface, dull and cold, while little dust particles hover across it. When it's washed with water at the end of the day,
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / yoga on: April 24, 2017, 12:05:08 PM
The yoga room seals shut, cutting off the up beat motivational electronic music pounding in the adjacent room. The air particles settle, like a pool of water that hasn't been touched in a while. When I listen closely i can hear a subtle high pitch noise, which is probably the noise of my inner mechanical system. Each step I take causes a small echo across the hardwood floors, causing whatever remaining dust particles to dance around my rhythm, in the midst of clouds of the remaining cleaning product from the night before. The mirrors across the walls expand my visual reach to infinity. And I breath slowly while I stretch waiting for class to start.
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / mosaic on: April 19, 2017, 05:20:19 PM
White plastered walls, cleanly paved streets, filled with tiny european cars. Small yards are surrounded by tiny short white picket fences, holding but a few plants within. A sort of permanent but traveling overcast silks the sky, but not with impeding sun rays. The streets are narrow with an occasional futbol game about. There is no big business but the catholic church on the tallest hills. The bells ring every fifteen minutes to remind the people of their judgement. Sidewalks are scarce while pedestrians meander the streets. Each building has a mosaic-- full of vibrant colors against the overcast world. Spiritual beings are constructed of small tiny squares--whose corners and edges fall so smoothly away from their center, and back into the next square, like the waves of an ocean cycling along the beach. If you could run your hand across it like beads of a necklace or pearl buttons of a woman's blouse, you would feel just as calm. A feeling comes about me--that these mosaics are like day care teachers at nap time...watching over the people, making sure they don't play, sing or dance, but just sleep. 
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / jellyfish on: April 18, 2017, 12:03:55 PM
Gulling birds fly passed as waves crash. Each step in the sand is heavy, the lawn chair strap around my back is cutting into my burning shoulder, barely hanging out. My sandals barely hang on as the ground gives out beneath them. Each step pushes back into the sand in order to move forward. The ocean is the perfect painting of oblivion, reaching out infinity over my imagination. Children run with laughter while the parents pretend to read. Police drive their four-wheelers by a landscape red solo cups and burning cigarettes with the thought to join. A single engine plane flies by buzzing like a low-mid 80's bass line and hanging an advertisement for gambling, responsibly. Pink dots float in the ocean like sprinkles on a cake.   
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / contact lens on: April 13, 2017, 12:00:00 PM
Spring air is cool, the windows are open, and the district does not sleep alone tonight. Car buzz by sporadically through the twilight of street lamps and forgotten store fronts. I wake up on my back, a paralysis fades from my arms and chest, and let my eye lids rise from rest. My eyes feel warm and cozy when I close them again, like pulling a warm blanket tighter after snoozing an alarm. I notice she's not laying next to me, so i turn and find her sitting up and looking at me. Her eyes look different without her lens. They focus differently on me. But the determination of her look is amplified.
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / earring on: April 12, 2017, 11:54:14 AM
She flipped her hair around her ear as she prepared to explain what happened. Her hoop earring dangled left and right, sending reflections to my eye as she pondered behind a nervous smile. If only she would tell me she loves me.

We were seated at a wooden table, finished with a thick gloss, the kind needed to protect from a broken heart. The waiter brought light salads with baby spinach leaves, glowing green and young, like the commitment to meeting that night. And she told me she's with someone else. If only she would tell me she loves me.
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Ceiling Fan on: April 11, 2017, 11:58:36 AM
The walls are painted vanilla white, to cover up the darkness behind them. Light glows in melancholy ways across them, soliciting my imagination as if a film was projected across them. I lay on my back, my blanket is the soft of cotton, with the worn of being washed too many times. It's colors project freely throughout the room of unassuming walls. It has a spring pushing out farther than the rest, like a determined family member poking you to get up for school. The ceiling fan rattles in its efforts to cool the room, in a slow rhythm reminiscent of a clock.
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