Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

May 26, 2019, 05:24:27 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 / String on: Today at 01:42:36 AM
The ball coarse and rigid but soft and lightly fluffy, pinching the short wick protruding from the globe, dropping the sphere of string bouncing and thudding with a soft dull whack on the hard glossy wooden floors, the string hanging, dangling, the vine is fat and coarse and moist from the thick humid air of the rain forest, swimmable and wet, the stench of blanched earth thick with tropical fragrance, bright pangs of reds and yellows dappled through the thick deep green, small precious soft flowers occluded by razor sharp pines extending and reaching off green stalks, the broccoli dry and bitter, crunching and cracking as my vision of the room shakes, teeth incising and breaking down the tough plant, swinging the axe into the base, a deep heavy thud and exhaling air in a forceful blow as I'm thrown onto my back and the opposing forward lands on top of me grasping at the ball, boots nearing my head and face and crunching loudly into the grass, my eyes opening and closing quickly in protection as my heart rate flurries…
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Wine Glass on: May 25, 2019, 05:11:37 AM
Tinging and ringing, a bright twang and single note echoes through the warm spacious dining area, a deluge of red liquid spilling in a torrent of violent waves falling from the lip of the bottle, gushing and splattering around the inside of the wine glass, tinkling from a low note in a long and gradual glissando up the long seamless scale. An explosion of sweet grape varietals wafting, peppery tannins resting on my palate, popping and prickling, drying the inside of my lips. Wet but dry, the paradox of wine, the glass cold and rigid, bulbous, the firm and hard but fragile stem entwined between my soft fingers, dinting concavely. The world slightly blurred and bright, warm and friendly,  the whirring of music dappled by gentle conversation, running like a soft engine in the background…
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Wheel on: May 23, 2019, 11:55:56 PM
The car grunting and thudding along in a consistent beat and rhythm, the wheel deflated and exhausted like its lungs have expelled all their air but failed to breathe in, bouncing up and down gently on the hard seat of the roller coaster, knees tinging against the broad metallic rail hanging over me painfully, the hot wind throwing and pulling back my hair, free falling as the world blurs by undefined and diving feet first into the water, salt embalming my body, lips salty, stinging the back of my throat, the Pad Thai smells both savoury and a little sweet, though hot and spicy, fire burning and blowing hot wind, exploding and popping loudly, cooking marshmallows on long straining narrow and thin sticks, burning little balls of melting goo, dripping and drooping hot and warm into my mouth…
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Lampshade on: May 22, 2019, 10:34:42 PM
Dimly lit, mellow and icy cold, the lounge room decorated with a mixture of rustic, other-worldly possessions and newer furnishings, the top ceiling light flickering, cracking, zapping, and popping. The couch I’m sitting on is soft like a marshmallow, sinking in further than I should as the tension of the springs has slackened, as is the propensity of most springs, pulling on my lower back uncomfortably, cramping. Expired potpourri hanging in the cool air, wafting by borne on sticky dust particles flickering in the shafts of light, stabbing and wounding the house. The old sugary biscuits crack in staleness, bitter and less sweet than intended. The walls seem to breathe in and out as I do, the darkness in the back corners of the house playing tricks on my eyes, dark and grainy. The lampshade in the front corner weak and old, unfit, producing a small aura of light, standing like a proud old tree, weathered and rough, coloured brown and dusty…
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Record on: May 21, 2019, 11:45:53 PM
Settled clouds of dust like thin dying deserts on black rippled earth, feels like hard warm plastic, the record a two-dimensional sharp stinging edged ancient weapon, rippling like water the icy cold deep black waves undulating in perfect repetition cover my body forcing me to kick hard to raise my body out of the water, my legs cramping with each kick, the world party blurring, salty liquid dripping and tickling down my face as the breeze cools my skin, wicking away the sweat as I run, the thudding vibrating through my body as the kick drum booms and cuts through the rock bands live performance, a deep ringing through my ears, a cacophony of sound, the train station smells like mechanical heat, thick with air and people, cramming onto the carriage, the taste of lollies drying my throat as nervousness takes over my heart, the rollercoaster cart pulling me higher, stomach dropping and butterflies raging…
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Net on: May 21, 2019, 12:33:23 AM
Sitting, sinking into the soft and floury, but coarse, graded sandy river bank, feet wedged poorly into a soft makeshift miniature plateau to prevent myself from sliding down, legs turned on and gently firing, bearing a small amount of downward weight. Pine trees and dry field grasses gently wafting, borne on the cool crystal air, caressing and kissing my right cheek, sometimes stabbing, left side of my face safe hidden, warm, relaxed and un-tense. The hard fishing pole, light, black and sleek, simple design, holding it out in front of my self, projecting out as an extension. The line sunk well below the water surface and vibrating, a line connection with a signal of communication quivering with information. The fishing net rested carefully and quietly beside me, handle once bright fluorescent orange now faded and weak, sun kissed and damaged. Net folding in on itself….
7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Gas on: May 18, 2019, 01:22:18 AM
Trickling and wafting, somehow a toxic convulsive scent is a morish smell, shocking my system like an electrical current surging through my face, eyes squeezing tight and wet into crinkles and crows feet, throwing my head backwards, heavy, in an effort to clear out my sinus, vertebrae in my neck twisting, feeling like a tight stiff ball and socket joint with sand caught between, crushing and grinding in a dull echo, like a mortar and pestle grinding salt. Frustration forcing my chest outward and sharply with a dull ache, a sudden surge of heat overwhelms my body, prickles and tingles jabbing in random succession, vacillating between areas of my skin and body. Drying my throat, tasting the thick dew of gas, throat widening. Air hazy and blurry where the gas wafts and drags, like someone has smudged the image in my vision, like an impressionist painting. Hissing and sighing, like the canister has inexhaustible lungs, warning to keep at bay, at distance from itself…
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Change on: May 16, 2019, 11:26:01 PM
You make a good point. There is definitely a culture on this website of using coherent story lines. I personally prefer to let the writing come from the senses. Weather it makes sense or not. The ones that stand out to me on this site are the ones that incorporate the senses as Pat describes in the book.

Really enjoyed your piece today. There's a lot I enjoyed. Keep on going with this type of writing. It's really interesting and refreshing.
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Change on: May 16, 2019, 11:17:21 PM
"By the time you fill that belly, I can hardly lift you to take you to the store..." what a nice line!
10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Speaker on: May 16, 2019, 11:13:47 PM
The hard plastic seat bearing upwards into my legs, constricting from the under side, a dull numb broad pain under my quads, leaning back into the loose springy bent and stretched plastic backing, bent from abuse and years of use. Head tilting back with in a gentle whip lash from momentum of its weight, pressure under the backside of my head, feeling my spine compress, neck cracking softly and grinding like coarse sand being crushed slowly. Staring upwards the world starts to fade into a transparent blur as the weight of the world seems to pull down on my eyes, flickering black and warm light like an old movie from a film reel. A gently breeze from the ceiling fans floats down and kisses my face, a cool tinge as it tickles the beads of sweat on my forehead and around the edges of my nose, bringing with it the pungent airborne odour of other overheated school students. A take a sip of tepid water from my plastic crunching bottle in an effort to avoid being subsumed into the black world of sleep, tainted with the rustic flavour of old pipes. The political pundit speaker, austere and dry in his manner comes back into auditory focus as he had been muted by sheer boredom, an austere speech seemingly perennial…
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Change on: May 16, 2019, 12:52:45 AM
Silvery tower, a link of jagged cold heavy metals stacked to form a miniature rising teetering tower tower, appearing to be other worldly, alien. A shaft of warm golden light beams in dramatically through the top rectangular window panes, spotlighting the little tower, like a hot dangerous beam, threatening to set fire. Intricately hewn rough and coarse thin narrow lanes, creating rungs for miniature explorers, decorate the circular outside edges of each disk, placed carelessly atop each other, overlapping, hanging over the edges of each other like dare devils. Tinny and musky smelling, the stack of change is contrastingly dirty, grimey, and brand new a shiny, reflective. The still air quiet, intensifying sound, a sharp clink and snap like a hammer wailing on a drain pipe, my heart popping at the same time in anxiety to keep the tower stable, as I drop another silvery coin on top of the stack, building and growing the alien tower, feeling the moment my fingers release the coin like a crane, mechanically shifting its gears. Mouth open breathing carefully and deeply to avoid any breath, tasting the metallic aura…
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / QUESTION on rhymes... on: May 15, 2019, 10:54:43 AM
Hey guys, sorry for posting here but no ones seems to be active on the General Forum...

My question pertains to rhymes vs identities. Pat defines an identity as syllables that start the same way. For example; fuse/confuse, lease/police, peace/piece.
I'm currently having a brain fart. Are words like sorrow/borrow, follow/hollow IDENTITIES or RHYMES? It appears the last vowels "o" are starting the same way with either R or L...

Another example of Identity would be unleash/McLeash.

Is it a case of the main syllable stress of the word (Masculine VS Feminine rhymes)? The main syllable stress is on the first syllable of these words - sorrow/borrow, follow/hollow. Does that mean therefore, they are (Feminine) rhymes and not identities?

Looking forward to your responses!

Currently working through one of his books
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Ski lift on: May 15, 2019, 12:46:08 AM
"...heavy boots attached to sleek gliders slipping silently through the snow." - Awesome! Sleek gliders. And great use of sensory ideas.
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Ski Lift on: May 15, 2019, 12:44:00 AM
Cumbersome planks - beauty!

"...the crowd noise echoed like a theme park with out the goofy music." - So accurate!
15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Ski Lift on: May 15, 2019, 12:42:02 AM

"I brace myself for the fall to come, deep breath, muscles tighten, this might hurt." - nice sensory ideas! I've felt this before.
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