Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

February 21, 2019, 12:42:21 PM
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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 / Ankle on: March 07, 2018, 03:47:48 PM
A slight crack, moving tiny circles while your toes are bending. The rough bottoms touch the scratchy hair like surface. A cold handle turned around and water shoots out like a waterfall. Steam rising; clouding the room, condensation falling down your small window. Soapy water runs up and down, a quick swipe of your ankle and toes which only halfway cleans them. The smell of old spice and alcohol from the Listerine in the morning. The sun is always out; daylight savings time. The birds are always chirping with some ridiculous call to each other. Worms scurrying away as fast as they can. Things are alive and growing again in the spring.
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Cotton Candy on: February 22, 2018, 05:06:03 PM
The machine putters along churning out small blue sugar feathers and mashing them together into one amorphous blob. Each one different; it's resting on your tiny smooth paper cone. You taste the sugary sweetness as the blue snowflake dissolves in your mouth. This further reminding you of December, New York City. Black snow on the streets from busy cars bustling along honking and playing bumper cars. Each white snow flake falling like a small kite . Warm coffee in the morning, the smell and taste of those magnificent beans. Old men their old dogs sit on the bench pondering life. The snow almost acting as a shield from everyday life; blanketing not only the ground, but something inside. Trees snap like chop sticks as the snow tests them. Squirrels hoping along creating tracks of their own. Warm coffee, wet snow, and the longing inside.
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Trumpet on: February 21, 2018, 05:32:46 PM
Tendons stretch like tiny bungee chords as the valves move up and down like machines in a factory. The overpowering sound like someone talking into an air horn. Chiseled thin metal, chapped lips, and a looming frustration. The taste of old saliva and tap water because anything else would hurt your throat. Like being locked in a box, a peaceful metal box with people staring as they walk by rudely. Every note a strain on your lungs and it's only making your headache worse. Playing by yourself; locked in a room you're trapped; but out on the field in the sun playing, competing with your friends you're free. The inside of your arm sore from playing...
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Diary on: February 20, 2018, 06:20:39 PM
Hard, brittle graphite scraping against soft paper. As emotions rage inside; your heart beating faster, words becoming less and less legible as the tears rain down. Knuckles crack, the yellow light getting dimer and dimer. The battery in your car giving out, the warmth on the soft leather steering wheel will soon go away. You hair standing up like you're around an electric ball; being gelled by your tears . Lies and deceit riddle these pages which someday you will no longer read. When your house gets bigger, when your heart is fuller and your life plans out.
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Hammock on: February 19, 2018, 09:14:30 PM
Cotton stretching to it's wits end. Your body is comforted similar to when you were a child. Your eyes constantly squinting, a headache in your forehead like you wouldn't believe. Wood blocking the sun slightly but still shining through. The palm tree non existent around though. The book is your only source of relief and entertainment. Sun tan lotion chemicals emanating from your pores; sand working it's way in to clog them. Every grain of sand, a tiny rock, collapsing in your hand like play-dough. The tide rolls in; the crash; the sound of peace. Hair being yanked by the fabric beneath and being blown toward the tide.
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Altar on: February 19, 2018, 09:08:38 PM
Soft woods collects cheap white paint. Shoes sweaty, knees trembling. The beginning of the end. Heart beating fast; trying to find love to calm yourself. The smell of dirt and leaves disintegrating into oil. A man with a black robe speaking in a way that even he no longer understands. Sweaty fingers rubbing on your tuxedo. The mixing taste of alcohol and bubble gum from champagne and pepto bismol from before. Eyes gleaming in the crowd; looking for a mistake, not hoping, but looking. Her walk is slow, the uncertainty rising with every turned head she sees.
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Stone on: February 17, 2018, 11:15:05 PM
Warm bloody hands hold a cold sharp chisel, pounding every fragment out. Dust and debris fly. The stone feels like sandpaper. Flags raise, wind whipping. The stone castle stands strong. Iron chains hold what men's muscle cannot. The smell of rot, hay, and herd animals. The whole kingdom smells of this except the throne. The golden chair lined with violet padding. Red rugs draped up high and on the floor. Humid, heart beating fast. Trays of apples and uncured meat float around. Messengers come in, peasants appeal, begging, tears, silent whispers, but they get shut down. The outside pastures are green and lush. The grass is soft, the dirt cold, and the sunlight in full bloom. Unlike the castle; dense with fog, sickness, and greed. Old kings with white beards raise children more greedy than themselves. Old wooden wheels, misshapen from the rocks trolley along  the dirt streets just wanting out. Man will escape this treacherous land, only to poison another.
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Brownie on: February 16, 2018, 05:40:51 PM
The summer heat raining down. It's blurry in the distance, like an illusion in the desert. Car barely managing to keep it under 95 degrees. Sweat pouring down out of every pore in your face. All your clothes feeling wet, all you hear is hot air blowing and a radio reporter in the background. You park and waddle out; the door opens. Pure silence, cold silence. Cold air radiating not only from the air conditioning but from the trays of milky sugary goodness. Cold leather touches your wet back and the plate is dropped. The ice cream melting into a shake on top of the rich cocoa flavor of the brownie. Flaky on top but rich and dense on the inside. Fudge oozes out of the center and you are transported to your childhood. No worries other than when you're getting ice cream again.
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Bronco on: February 15, 2018, 04:38:36 PM
Trotting along, hoofs hitting the sand like dirt and not making a sound. Over the hill are the grassy plains. Brown with a white nose and black legs. He wonders free, his black mane soft, his eyes are big; black with a brown ring inside. You can see his muscles stretching and working as he gallops through this oasis of his. Wind whips through him, stirring up the tumbleweeds. When you come to this place it seems quiet, but if you really listen you hear it. Blue birds chirping, cow's mooing and the tree leaves have a song of their own. Clear cold waters flow downstream, purifying the rocks beneath it. The sky's reflection on the water; a beautiful mirror. The bronco's hair is short but soft, not scaly and slick like those salmon. Th river brings life and death. The river brings salmon and trout which brings in the bears. Furry, jaws, and heavy breathing. Claws like you wouldn't believe; a fierceness. But when he's fishing, all seems calm.
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Swingset on: February 14, 2018, 06:35:14 PM
Stomped down grass. A muddy earth from a stampede. A line like a line getting to the watering hole, only this is for pleasure. Wood cracking, metal stretching as the pendulum swings back and forth holding a screaming child. Sunshine beams down piercing every cloud, molecule, and the atmosphere to be here. Muddy shoes swing toward your head asking to be pushed every time. You'll remember the times out here, for swings are heavily used and then forgotten. The grass pushes up from the root piercing the dirt just like the sun. There's no more noise, the stampede has left. The pendulum swings alone, only friends with the wind.
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Mascara on: February 13, 2018, 04:27:19 PM
Plastics jarring around, hitting each other as you grab and try a million of them. Finally mascara, a soft brush scooping up your eye lashes. Rubbing what almost seems like charcoal. A black crusty piece of coal. The same that use to start the grill. Each black coal being subjected to the other's heat until they're all red hot. The taste of grease, meat, and peppers sauteing in the pan. The sweet but tangy taste of barbecue sauce. You can hear the meat sizzle each time it's turned over. Knife carving into the meat, cutting what was once a kind animal. Living with the herd, knees stiff, fur soft but hard from the mud in some spots. Eyes big but not wide and as black as the night. Moo's in the distance, it's feeding time.
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / spy on: February 12, 2018, 06:01:39 PM
Heat. Explosions between him and her and actual explosions. Tight leather strapped around his leg and shoulders holding dangerous weapons. Ominous clouds above likely to rain but it never does. Dusty stone, each one enough to crush a man is what makes this castle. A soft red rose, a jolt, feeling like his feet are going through his knees as he jumps from ledge to ledge. Air hits him drying his eyes like a tornado, but it's not raining. Mechanical, grease, oil and a million controls descend; the helicopter is here to pick him up. One click of metal  and he's being hoisted up. He needs to shave, stubble growing while he's running out of patience. Craving that oak from the bar back home, that soft yellow light.
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Tulips on: February 10, 2018, 05:20:34 PM
The wet damp of spring , fresh and soft, shoved into an industrial plastic bag. Spring time, pollen and fake love. Hard pressed cardboard rubs against itself being lifted off. The aroma of cocoa, of chocolate, of cherries and creme. Soft to the touch, like velvety silk. Slightly hard but the caramel on the inside drips out of one and the taste of burnt sugar and cocoa go hand in hand. The teddy bears scruff feels like an old rug, but he's cute. Sown by children in a dusty dirty place of machines and dread. Fingers being gouged by sewing machines, lunch breaks non existent, and the dying hope of a better life. But he is cute. After all has arrived, the cold phone goes to your ear and you gab on about each other for hours; warming the leather beneath you. You sit in your big house of cold hard tile, big TV's and soft beds. Big doors made of fake wood, still grainy to the touch and gold arching door handles. The smell outside of grass and spring, reminding you of your tulips.
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Donut on: February 09, 2018, 04:22:24 PM
Yellow light seeping through the car window. Warming the black leather. There's an energy in me, and anticipation, but I'm not sure where we're going. Hard turn, wheels straining, not perfectly in the lines. The door to the shop opens an inch and you smell it. The aroma of perfectly measured flour, sugar, butter, and yeast rising before your eyes. A constant hum of the conveyor belt reminding you that the goodness isn't stopping. Warm, perfectly shaped, and the texture like a pillow. The icing no longer liquid, but not a solid either. One bite, is this where heaven lies? Or maybe it was just a good morning.
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / New Orleans on: February 08, 2018, 05:28:39 PM
Lights flickering from a fire . Grainy, the wood cold to the touch. A sweet spicyness hits your nostrils, the smell of gumbo. The warm inviting smell of craw fish. Outside there is cold steel, notes and energy. Beads, a blank sky, and a beautiful city. A certain rhythm being transferred, not a lack of care but a cause for celebration.
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