Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

September 24, 2018, 06:08:55 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 / Re: Jewel on: Today at 12:17:15 PM
I really enjoyed this! Had me hanging on the edge of my seat there for a little bit.
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Swelter on: Today at 11:47:57 AM
                     It's a quiet morning under the street lamps of our little town, Sue's Kitchen is fully lit up, however, and Frank is turning on his open sign. I notice the haze of his neon light reflect off the frost on the window. The sun is just starting to stretch its neck over the Superstore, scattering light on all the overnight accumulated snow. I'm already in the midst of sweltering in the layers of warmth I have put on myself. Our little northern town got hit hard last night and I am the man in charge of these sidewalks. That means getting up early, grabbing my mittens that are still drying from the day before, and trusting that my blue plastic shovel will make it one more day. It's not an easy task but Ms. Sue sure appreciates it and Frank finds it helpful. The snow that once braced itself like an army now sits along the curb lined up perfectly in the road behind me as I near the end of the sidewalk. I'm about done. Soon the big orange trucks with plows will come and I will watch as they roll the snow away I have lined up for them. Ms. Sue will have a gentle cup of hot cocoa sat out for me before I head off to school.
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Jewel on: September 21, 2018, 12:20:20 PM
                   It looks like she rubbed vaseline on here legs. Long, smooth, unflaunted legs. From the balcony I look on as she makes her way onto the stage. She's flaunting a long silky black dress, high heels on the hardwood floor, and curls in her hair. The long blonde curls of hers fall on her shoulders as she talks. We're anticipating her voice. A vibrato unmatched by anyone else in the room right now. Before she hits that first note however she goes on to tell us about the unfortunate suicide rate in the U.S. right now and what we can do as humans to hinder that number from going up. We listen as she goes on and tells us the song she is about to perform was written for a girl who tried to end her life twice. She turns to the piano player, says "hi", and begins to smooth out the roughness in the room with a song name "No More Tears". Thank you for that Jewel. 
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Robot on: September 20, 2018, 05:50:16 PM
                 They are put on assembly lines. Tightened, fabricated, groomed, talented individuals. The cream of the crop rise to the top but it's with unknowingly amounts of compromise. They glosten the stage with their particular style but their hints of compromise leak through there porcelain skin. Robots. I don't like to think of them as robots but what if that's what they are made to be. Over the years they are chiseled to be what America wants. It's not all bad but it's not all good. As time passes though you begin to gain control. You shed the fabricated metal, you lose the need to impress, and you find out who you are. Always challenging the head of operation. Pushing it until you are no longer like the ones on the assembly line. You are no longer a Robot. Many have gotten there. It's impressive and it's my goal.
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Hostile on: September 19, 2018, 02:10:20 PM
              The rain exploded onto the roofs as he ran into the night down the narrow street. Houses blurred and his ski mask drenched he kept on fighting through the misery. The bag in his hand was only getting heavier so he knew he needed a place to vanish into and rest. A lean- to in the woods, that ought to do! He hunkered against the rough wood pile and started to think. All though he got what he wanted, hostility still filled his mind. He couldn't warp his mind enough to see the positivity in any of his actions. Yea his daughter would no longer be hungry but how could he go on living like this. He fought off his demons and the rain for a little while as the passing of cars diminished. The night went on and he finally took off his mask and began toward home. His curly haired blue eyed angel would be waking up soon.
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Forgery on: September 18, 2018, 01:14:58 PM
                  "This lady can't read a damn palm" I stated disgustily as I jolted the red laced curtain back and stepped out into the daylight. Forgery at it's finest. This old lady is making a killing today rubbing palms of strangers and feeding the bunches occupying Deglits County Fair a load of crock. I turned back to the little tent where supposedly all the magic happened and I stood there. Eyes squinted, I watched as people passed by, some slowing down and gazing into the tent. I'd just let out a big "nahhhhh" and the wanders would just turn around and gaze at me. Determined.... I was not going to let this woman get the best of the people from my county. 
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Convict on: September 17, 2018, 12:39:10 PM
                    The convict is like a train on the go. He's not slowing down for anyone or anything. From city to city he roams, raises eyebrows, and at the end of each suburban cul de sac he digs through the trash hoping to pick off a scrap or two and then proceeds on his way. Why take this course through life though? How have you managed to break into the darker side of life? Was no one there to stop you from opening the door? He speeds up through Kansas, the flat dry land offers minimal coverage but makes it easy to bolt through, onward to Colorado where he shades himself under the mystery of the mountains. He has never been this far west before. Oh, How he would love to wander about the mountains, however, there is no time for slowing down. He pats up the sweat from his head with his bandana, stuffs it in his back pocket and carries on his wayward ......son.
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Mutation on: September 13, 2018, 01:18:28 PM
               It will always be a rock at its core. A sphere dangling near the sun and offering up a place to dwell. The moon always on it's dark side but it's seen the highs and lows this big ole rock has trenched through and it will tell you it's gone through its phases and changes. Mutating ever so quietly from one piece of land into numerous amounts. Nomads that have haunted the grounds of this Earth, and continue to, have pushed this big ole rock to limits it may never have foreseen. Although many cherish it, I may be wrong to say, but I believe some take it for granted. It's never asked for much but what if we offered up a hand in keeping its appearance the best it can be. Besides, styrofoam has never looked good on anybody and, really, neither has plastic.
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Ashes on: September 12, 2018, 01:24:47 PM
                 I didn't see how we were going to make it up the mountain. Exhaustion had set in already and my shirt was soaked with sweat. The Northern Arizona sun could of baked an egg on the red rock surrounding us. I took a deep breath in, looked at her - she looked at me as if the pain in her feet was nothing compared to the pain she was feeling inside. That's what I saw in her eyes. I tightened my lips, gaver a whole hearted smile, another sigh, and grabbed the vase from her. We finally made it to the top. The sky wisping blue with streaks of clouds. She handled the vase with pose walking over to the edge, I helped her when it came time to pour. Right by her side, I watched her first tear hit the dust below our feet and looked on as the ashes of her father rose into the mid afternoon Arizona sky.
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Horsepower on: September 11, 2018, 12:39:32 PM
            10,000 horsepower was what me and the fellas had stocked into this boat. I grew up around engines all my life but I'll be honest I was nervous. I was about to hop into this beast and pull off a 330 yard run on water. We're talking 0 to 270 mph in 3.5 seconds. I rubbed my palms off on my evil knievel jump suit before fist bumping the team. They gave me my helmet and we rolled the 10,000 horsepower unit over to the water. A gathering of people gleeing, patiently waiting in anticipation....what's to come? In my mind, it wasn't going to be beat. Finally the sensation of angst washed away when I felt the motion of the water rockin me back and forth. Vroooom! I started the beast. I looked to my left finally giving the competition some acknowledgment. I gripped the rubber of the steering wheel and counted the beats in my chest. I looked up......Red.....Yellow....Green...
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / eel on: September 10, 2018, 01:17:24 PM
         A tentacle in it's grips the eel swims away. Ravishing in the partial win for now but it will come back for more. Not just because of hunger but a will to prove to itself and others that he's a force to be reckoned with. It finds a spot to nestle for the time being until the water gets dark. There's rarely a time he sleeps, how could he, there's too much at stake. Knowing that the next tumble of water could be another prey or even worse a pointed nose predator keep's his eyes scanning all horizons. He's disgusted with the lack of knowledge some of the other eel's have. Watching too many of his comrades perish within the jaws of bigger fish, he's vowed to never let one taste any part of him.
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Crook on: September 10, 2018, 04:18:34 AM
              "I can't remember who was with her and or what he looked like", I told the man across from me. He just sat there staring at me and nodding off every so often. As boring as I may have been to the poor guy  recalling the story helped me figure out why I was sitting on a concrete slab in an orange jumpsuit. "It all went black when I turned the lights on." I carried on recapturing the story. "I do remember a scream, a loud caboom and another, and then silence." I looked down at my finger... no ring. Ahhh, yea that's right, I didn't want it to get bloody so I slid it off. It's funny thinking about it now, I cared about something that signified a love that never existed. At least to her it didn't. Shhhbooom, the piercing bang of the cell block door rattled me from my thinking. "Phillips!" The gentleman across from me jottled when he heard the name. Standing up and walking out, I read on the back of his jumpsuit "Phillips...Crook County.....#37405." 
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Hoax on: September 08, 2018, 02:34:40 PM
                  As we sat there side by side, his fingers resting on the keys of the piano, I listened to him. My eyes clutched to his voice, I watched the form his mouth would make as he pronounced each vowel. He would then say "okay, you try it". I would give my interpretation of the vowels a stab into the air and he would then listen. Then he would go on and critique. Playing soft notes on the piano he would match the sound of the vowel as we continued on. It was a pleasure to have him by my side as someone who would help me further my singing ability. I looked forward to each meeting but sadly it lasted no longer than a month, as we only met once every week that first and final month. It turned out to be a hoax. As I gave him enough to pay for a lesson or two in the future, it seemed he wasn't interested in teaching any more. I lost out on twenty bucks and some gained confidence. What a fricken hoax.
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Bumper on: September 08, 2018, 02:11:30 PM
Clever wording in there. Good stuff
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Birthplace on: September 06, 2018, 01:58:33 PM
              "I don't sound like nobody" he stated. A young smooth skinned boy going by the name Elvis was standing there under a little neon sign buzzing Sun Records. With a childish grin, greasy black hair, and enough confidence to get the door held open, Sam Phillips allowed him in. It was statement the boy made, with his music, with his moves, and his charisma. The white chalky walls of that particular studio furnished a sound that would soon rattle the ozone layer. Electric guitars being strummed and plucked at high intensity and the baritone voices made ears perk up when it finally found sound waves reaching millions of ears. It's been rocking enough to roll through the years to today and it all started at a little red bricked studio on the corner in downtown Memphis. The birthplace of Rock n Roll and The King....mhhhmmmm
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