Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

October 22, 2018, 11:04:58 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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1  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Doughnut on: May 09, 2018, 05:13:05 PM
(again with the spelling issue  Cheesy )

With great anticipation, I would accompany my mother to the local A&P supermarket in the early 60's. Silver grey, the swinging glass doors opened to a marvel of potential delights. Screeching metal upon metal Mother would free our stubborn cart from its imprisonment and with squealing wheels we'd head into grocery-world. Eye level to wire bins, through cellophane windows I would spy them. Prettily encased in in pale blue cardboard eight glitteringly-glazed doughnuts beckoned to me. Salivating, pointing, half dragging our cart to the treasured repository of mouth-watering doughy goodness, I would look up to Mother with pleading eyes. And sometimes, although not always, she would give me the smiling nod of yes!  Reaching for the stack I was in the kitchen of my mind, sliding open the mouth of the bakery box. With two fingers I would pinch the golden, shimmering deliciousness, ready to ritually lick clean the sticky sweetness after my first bite.
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Doctor on: May 05, 2018, 08:39:21 PM
He was a wiry man, small in appearance even to a three year old child. Dr. McKendry had a twinkle in his sky blue eyes and a ski jump nose on whose bridge perched thin metal framed reading glasses. Cloaked in a bleached white lab jacket, his was a tiny office for tiny people. A little table filled with books beckoned and amused until I was drawn away and hoisted up onto the changing cubicle by the nurse's station. Slippery laminate, alive with dancing curls and swirls amused as I was stripped to my undies. So much for privacy in 1959! Then we'd wait in his office for the cold stethoscope cone to suction to bare chest.
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / checkbook on: May 04, 2018, 03:47:20 PM
Check.
Got my chequebook.
Funny how identity sticks
to the spelling of a word.
Yes.
Funny but true.

What?
What is a cheque?
Kids these days no longer use them.
Paper holds no meaning now.
No.
No meaning now.

Still.
Still I have mine.
Just took it out to pay a bill,
then thought of an e-transfer?
Oh.
Guess it's me too.
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Dolphin on: May 02, 2018, 02:54:35 PM
Silver blue
Slick and shiny
it slips
poetic
around and through
pale waters,
a bird of the ocean.

Chirping,
"Chit, Chit, Chit",
its body
powerfully plays,
water spirting
churning,
a vertical
dancing half moon.
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Sofa on: May 01, 2018, 05:14:19 PM
Sofa,
Chesterfield or
Couch?
Sofa - so overstuffed
Chesterfield - elegant and cherished
Couch - a comfy retreat
Canadians couch their remarks
Convey their true thoughts
couched in considered language,
but what do they really think?
This Canuck
loved to bounce on her couch of childhood
reputed to still contain
horsehair and springs
from 1910.
I could bounce so-fa(r) and high
and snooze away
weekend afternoons.
So
whether you call it
Sofa
Chesterfield or
Couch,
I hope it's
Snug
Cozy and
Comfortable.
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Potion on: April 30, 2018, 01:40:11 PM
Potent.
Potent Intent.
Desire-infused,
plant picked,
singularly selected.
Fingers pluck deep green landscapes
topographies prickle
mountains and valleys
of chlorofilled
potential essence.
Home and heated,
a sorcerer's fantasy
of clinking glass tubes.
The pop and hiss
of blue orange flame.
Burbling bubbles
foam and fill,
rise and fall.
Sweet sharp tincture,
a green-black distillation.
Flame eases, drops and is doused.
Thickness swirls
and pours like molten molasses
to be received or imposed upon
expectant or unsuspecting hosts.
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Omelette on: April 30, 2018, 12:25:09 AM
Love your egg dance!
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Jug on: April 30, 2018, 12:24:04 AM
Lug a jug of milk home, and boy was it heavy for a six year old's arms! Who knew? Ever since I could remember, the clanking and clinking of glass milk jugs heralded the arrival of the milkman. He'd deliver the milk into our milk box at the side door of our house. His large, square, metal rack balanced on his hips sometimes revealed a bottle of chocolate milk. Creamy and beckoning we'd all wonder who was getting this delicious luxury. It was never for anyone that I knew. A daily ritual, he'd arrive with his open-doored truck and head into the refrigerated section and come out with his frosty dairy goods. Our empties were left in the milk box and exchanged for fresh and full one quart bottles. In those days, someone was always home to pop the new bottles into the fridge.

And then one day, then milk truck came no more. Replaced by a Becker's store, we now had to walk to buy a 3 quart plastic jug that we'd return to the store each we picked up a new jug. Opaque plastic, it was appropriately milky in colour. It had a cherry red plastic handle that would dig into the flesh of young hands after a block or so of walking. Bent sideways like a young sapling in the wind, I'd heft it homeward.
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Omelet on: April 28, 2018, 02:24:35 PM
Sun yellow splashes into the porcelain white bowl from my mother's kitchen. Whipping, whipping to a milky froth, it slides likes a child's goopy toy out and sizzles onto the grill. Time a luxury on these days of lazy breakfast preparations. Steaming dark forest coffee aromatherapeutic fills the nostrils and settles the heart to home. Oh, the eggs! Lifting gently to peek at the browning bottom. Rock and circle the pan as the liquidy top layer seeps to the edges to cook. Will this be the time I flip it perfectly? Is this the moment? Spatula manipulated as a sculptor's tool, slides sneakily along the edge and dives under the now cake-like sun circle. Fishing and arcing below to free it from the pan, arched forearm seizes the moment and flips the ochre half moon to plop atop its mate. Aahhh!
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