Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

November 14, 2019, 02:06:46 AM
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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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31  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Radiator on: January 03, 2019, 01:32:24 PM
the stale smell of the radiator liquid, dripping and trickling through the cracks, like a prisoner trying to escape forced by the flames of the room, ... prison bars that smell like urine, oxidized like cannonballs stacked in the castle, we walk on the rocks of coral, eroded by the wind, the breeze blew very strong where the horizon of the sea is melted with the sky, there were some kilometers until the bay where I saw hundreds of boats next to each other, perfectly ordered, we embraced first to take a photo, then another, the sun hiding quickly, dyeing the orange sky, several shades of orange, ... I squeezed the mandarin leaf and smelled exactly the same, we kept the tangerine peels to squeeze it in the eyes of friends, that dagger the thickness of a pin ... my mother chased me to puncture me every time she took out her needles, mini prick that terrified me, the drop of blood appeared on the skin, the immediate red and the impression that whitened my soul,
32  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Wine on: December 30, 2018, 12:09:07 PM
the sommelier made me pass in front of all the people, the room was cold and I was looking for shelter ... the beige of the wood, all were sitting and John whispered at the back ... I had the taste of many wines in my mouth, ... the preparations for the celebration of our marriage were just beginning, -Cheers! - They raised all the glasses, Mary did not release the cell phone, sitting staring at the phone, her husband tackled her, spoke to her through his teeth ... Alessia's voice broke into the silence where we sought to listen to the wine, going around in the glass, leaving its transparent wake stuck to the glass wall ... the hands in the window and the gasp in my ear, the gray cloth seats scraping my exposed skin,
33  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Marker on: November 19, 2018, 07:17:19 PM
the markers thrown on the glass table of the dining room, the window that I never opened, where sighs of the wind sneaked like threads vanished, like a swirl of soap in the water, we walked against the current in that children's pool, with the moldy floor, we slipped but it did not matter, looking to make eddies and let the body be carried away, ... there was a faded blue slide, where it was supposed to be water but we always had to throw it on, ... John threw the children upwards like frogs in the pool, shot upwards, opening arms and legs, ... the five of us surrounded Lilly and made figures with her hands, who became familiar with the water, when Allison lived in Los Angeles, ... I expected a while on the motorcycle, under her building, waiting for Charlotte to open the door for me ... my blue motorbike with the clear skin stuck on one side, as if it almost fell, as if careless, ... how much it cost me to give myself something better ... to treat myself like I treated Charlotte, to treat me with love ... to give me a more dignified motorcycle, to accept that it affected me and to recognize it, to accept it, to make peace with that ... in that workshop the blue bars are chipped, there is a giant rusty padlock, one down the street stuck to the Mall, smelling the soot and blue smog, like flying poison, feeling the stiff and hard rubber of the throttle handle,
34  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / pen - 6 min on: October 22, 2018, 05:58:02 PM
I approach the kiosk counter and ask for the pen, I see them all piled up, black and blue, leaning against each other like columns of ruins, the cardboard almost destroyed, broken by the edges ... the salesman looks at me with disdain, eats chewing gum with his mouth open ... the engine of the water truck that passes behind me rumbles, the sidewalk is narrow and I go closer to the kiosk to stay away from the street, ... metallic walls painted with matt gray paint, cheap ... I see many holes in the showcase, merchandise not available, the sign of "we're sorry" spinning in the wind, spinning like an impoverished mill, the blades full of spiderwebs that fly, the cold wind that hits my forehead Like a cube of ice, drops falling down my face, I hear the sea breaking against the stones and the ruthless sun warming the cactus full of dust, a black vulture with its wings unfolded, motionless, standing on the disgusting cactus ... the aloe coming out from the pine, like tree blood, acrylic and transparent like condensed saliva ...
35  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / rock - 6 min on: October 16, 2018, 03:07:39 PM
In that cavern made of plants where me and my friends used to go and hide, it was our lair ... no one in the building could see us, everything was covered in bushes, it was dark and damp, cold ... there we had a kind of box made of rocks, you only had to lift one of them to find knives, gunpowder, compasses, maps ... we invented our own story, but the best thing is that we did not know it was a story ... we really lived it ... the most The dangerous thing that we did was to skateboard every afternoon, going fast through those alleys , to light fireworks and run away ... we felt that we were also like spies, the building defenders ... there were no plans to hurt no one. The only thing was throwing batteries and stones from a balcony with a slingshot, just for fun, mischief ... we did not want to hurt anyone, we did not even know that you could do that ... we played Mario Bros all day and then we went down to skateboard, jumping, trying new tricks, taking photos of our tricks ... there we also had some Playboy magazines, in our secret lair ... from time to time we saw some feet that crossed behind the bushes, but they could never see us ... we were silent and nobody knew we were there ... it was difficult to contain the laughter, we covered our mouths and looked each other in the eyes, almost speaking with our eyes...
36  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / radio - 6 min on: October 15, 2018, 02:52:28 PM
normally there I open the glass door, feels very heavy when I pull it, almost like pulling a car by its bumper ... impossible weights, steel balls at the bottom of the cannon, the sea wind is a block of flying water, I stand over white bricks made of coral rock, we sat on the cannons and imagined the arrival of the conquerors to the island, sinking their feet in the sand and leaving footprints with their handmade leather shoes, always carrying a gun in their hand .. rusty swords and long beards, thick and careless skin ... arrogance is like a huge tractor without brakes, a devastating tornado that destroys prey inside first, breaks the cable and springs sparks like fireworks ... figures in the sky they draw with smoke, the explosions rumble on the balconies ... the smell of gunpowder, red wine, ... the wine barrels inside the basement, we were mounted on the train and the breeze in there was freezing, almost like traveling inside a fridge ... the stalactites drip whitish water,
37  Metaphors & Similes / Metaphors & Similes / Re: A thief disregards instructions on: October 15, 2018, 02:37:14 PM
Hey @AvailableBeat, awesome!
Could you explain your procedure? What did you do to play in that key?

38  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Seesaw on: October 13, 2018, 04:21:06 PM
Any comment or critique is very appreciated! L.

"the seesaw got stuck" - it is said in Colombia when things do not go well, metallic rusty teeth stuck in the wood, in logs stacked inside that humid room, cold, with the smell of fresh pine inside ... the mist does not respect borders , slips through slits in the window like a fugitive who wants to run in the grass, at full speed, knowing that dogs of the drought can chase her, hungry Rottweilers that bark and rumble, their drool falling is cobra venom, violent and sudden, inside the woven brown basket, like a malevolent harlequin with a white face and a painted smile, a fixed look in your pupils, it has been long stuffed and says nothing, the secrets of the night are blizzards that pass through the oaks, sway, thunders in the background and lightning momentarily illuminate the house ... in that room I remember my uncle playing dominoes, sitting and smiling, staring at his friends, breathing almost motionless and suddenly throwing the piece of dominoes with some cry of war, hitting the wood ... my grandfather jumped out of fright, I used to beat his newspaper, cut the silence and shouted my name, I ran ...
39  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Lipstick on: October 12, 2018, 06:02:49 PM
Hey!! Any critique is highly appreciated. Excuse me for my lousy english, not a native speaker hehe... Thank you!!

Shirley takes her lipstick out of her purse while I'm driving, I can only watch her hand in a fast movement... smells of sweet cherry inside the car, ... bright, bright red surface with its acid and sweet smell ... like the bubbilicious gum that I bought in the market when I was a kid, red or yellow packaging were my faves, the yellow was banana flavor ... I also remember the bazooka, you opened the waxed paper and it had printed a color cartoon, while its bubble gum scent hit you very soon ... plastic or metallic hulk lunch box, green and rusty, when it fell to the floor it caused a roar, I would almost feel it dismantled... we walked down in that narrow street from the school, bordered by these trees with giant torns in their trunks, immense trees that shaded the whole street ... its surroundings were dirt and mountain, very little grass... there were some ping pong tables broken at its corners, the faded green ... there sang the cicadas in the afternoon, like a huge farewell concert, and we were always looking for Rogelio , the concierge , he lived at the end of that street in a very humble house... there were usually children playing in the park next door, the white shirts and red shorts through the cayennes... I remember Kathy with her yellow hair like a voluminous sponge, she was friendly as a cute bear but her hair looked like a super yellow afro. .. they never separated, the girls played volleyball every afternoon, walking in bunchs... the canteen had a lemonade dispenser where there was a kind of internal lemon fountain, bathing all the walls of transparent acrylic, with light green liquid... the person who attended crushed the sandwiches with the hot iron, full of dark soot, while the indistinct children voices inside the roofed patio were daunting, the person in charge of calling the children did it by a loudspeaker, worn general electric horns, the voice as an answering machine or telephone every afternoon, sleepy tone...
40  Pat Pattison on Object Writing / Pat Pattison On Object Writing / Re: Songwork's Object Writing with Pat Pattison on: October 11, 2018, 04:03:45 PM
Hi Paul,

Have you found any useful exercise for metaphor and simile creation?
I see the Simile and Metaphor tab is not often used in the site...

Thanks for your help, Paul

41  Metaphors & Similes / Metaphors & Similes / Re: Lump on: October 11, 2018, 03:59:44 PM
Excuse me, what is the instruction for doing this?

Great images,
42  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Tree on: October 11, 2018, 03:55:23 PM
I opened the door and there she was with her surprise and her smile, the mini Christmas tree, decorated and everything ... small red and silver ribbons covering the whole tree, she spread her hands and told me - Surprise! - In my chest I felt as if they lit a fire, something moved me so much that I almost cried. I smiled to conceal and I made her step into my home, closing that old white door with tricks ... I locked the rusty chain, always looking to do it silently ... Garfield my cat was wandering in the room, he already recognizes ... - honey! honey! - I said repeatedly, as we approached the small table at the entrance ... the tree had a silver ceramic pot where it was planted. She also took out a small cardboard box from her pink purse, it was the Christmas lights. We played Christmas music, singing over it, and we sat on the floor to assemble the tree ... Garfield was leaving and coming many times, appearing below us, climbed on the table and slowly smelled the pine, looking to rub with the pine as for leave his smell there ... he almost always does that after gaining trust with someone or something, ... when Garfield...............

Thanks a lot for reading and your feedback! I appreciate it a lot... Keep writin'
43  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Fire on: October 11, 2018, 03:39:36 PM
Thanks AvailableBeat!
44  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Cigarrette on: October 11, 2018, 03:38:45 PM
Thanks a lot! Just workin' on it... let's keep writing
45  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Fire on: October 10, 2018, 04:09:30 PM
I light the gas burner with a tinderbox, the fire comes out like a crown of blue, luminous thorns ... the iron pot sits on the stove, the orange fire embraces its edges, sounds like a threat ... like trunks crackling from inside the chimney, sparks flying across the room like killer fireflies, leaving black spots when they alight on the wood ... that afternoon on the mountain we had wine in glasses and sang around the fireplace, as if it were the only moment that mattered ... detached from the city and the noise, pedestrians jumping over cars, their waste thrown into the street ... buses spitting smoke like small terror factories, suffocating people in their path ... people covering their faces as best as they can, with their sweaters ... I avoid the hole in the street where the metal bars stand rusty and I wonder - when is enough? when will this stop? - everything becomes a tornado of negative energy, a black hole that devours my spirit and leaves me like a zombie, pale skin, sleepy eyes, coming to the house to fall in bed with clothes, zapping television channels, watching programs without sense but that in that moment they take on all the sense of the world, people laughing ... Jimmy Fallon saying stupid things and the band playing, all with smiles on their faces, their hair disheveled ... just there I can hear the cicadas behind my window , there I think ...
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