Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

September 25, 2018, 01:23:33 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 / Whip on: June 27, 2017, 01:25:34 AM
whispers lash from table 3. Sibilance and syllables cut through the cafe bustle straight to number 5. Joe's knife pauses midway through the butter. from his chest is a buckling beat. The toast steams into his pores until it gives up. Giggles stir into a whip upon his back...but he is gone already....lost to the counting of bubbles in his coffee's surface and chasing the feeling he almost remembers from before he ever met her.
2  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Love Letter on: June 20, 2017, 11:46:47 PM
long before pen in hand I lean into the full curves of what I want to say. I steal tiny moments from work, eyes closed, between email beeps, iPhone rattles and customer complaints. I dive into the new wonder of him ...in ...slow ...motion.
I steam in slow replays of that memorable night....the jasmine breeze, the stretching ache as we kissed goodbye and craned our necks waving back and forth till we were ants. Oh boy, I simmered low and slow until the moon waned and waxed again.
My heart is burst like dawn and words seem flimsy like a paper boat at sea.....but I collect them.... s.l.o.w.l.y. from the archeological dig of my heart he started. Under the rubble and ash lies a feeling that resonates like a crystal glass.
Finally, I dance ink through my grandmothers fountain pen and sing this love prayer to him....
3  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Widow on: June 17, 2017, 02:32:28 AM
Searing rimmed eyes peel open to salt crusted hair stuck to her lips, cheeks and pillow. Dreaded daylight sits heavy upon her chest, taunting her with shards of light. She no longer sinks backwards to the middle of the mattress into the bookend of her life. His warmth stretching the landscape of her back and legs...gone.  He flowed like a river along her banks. She was the rock that grounded his flight. But Wednesday traffic rises like a heartless swarm of bees outside. She twists away, diving under waves of tangled cotton, holding her breath to soak in memories. Swallowing fear into the pitt of her gut that they too may fade. The musky scent in the crease of his neck. The lull of his whisper. The weight of him. The sparks his bare skin ignited. The sound of his heavy feet ambling the squeaking floor boards late after work... and the way, each time her heart beat would rise in love with every hello. Wedding gold slips off her finger to the bottom of the ocean bed gobbled by the unchanged bottom sheets. Loss of appetite has loosened her grip, her clothes and will. The widow adrift in the journey with no map.
4  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: change on: June 17, 2017, 01:13:32 AM
 a rich scene. great stuff!
5  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Change on: June 15, 2017, 08:59:14 AM
Oh thank you for reading it Paul! I have not written on this site for over a year. I usually handwrite in a journal but it's great to type again and access a different writing voice via this medium.  Cheesy
6  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Change on: June 14, 2017, 10:51:01 PM
Digits click, feet drum on the down beat as he sways in my train seat. Unaware his backpack presses hard against my side.  squashing hip, stomach, left breast. ugh. 12 stops. counting backwards  between musty oversoaked mens clothes, cheap perfume, Wriggleys, giggling schoolgirls, whingeing toddlers and distorted earphones. 10. we shake and shuffle as one East-bound. almost one crazy family at Christmas dinner. 8. breathe deep, shuffle up. hot coffee, denim,  click-clack briefcase lids, fresh shampoo. Ah but my mind melts to a mess of crashing cymbals as we rattle past St. Andrews street. I scan each driveway for his raven Ford. frozen breath. wide-eyed. standing guard against tears that defeat me. I zero in on the dime shuffle coming from my neighbours palm. Dollars and dimes jangle a tune that sing me back from hell. It hits me then, how I am the loose change from loves lost years. just loose like skin with no bone, adrift, finding warmth in the palm of a strangers rhythm barrelling to the city's edge. chink-skish-m-jangle-sksh-sksh-badoosh-chink.

7  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: SPRINKLER on: July 10, 2016, 12:25:11 AM
Loved this piece! great sense exploration and metaphors!!! I dig your writing voice.  Wink
8  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / SPRINKLER on: July 08, 2016, 11:23:19 PM
(sight sound taste touch smell motion kinesthetic)

tick. tick. tick. The palm sized yellow disk clicks and shifts clockwise in tiny movements like an R2D2 relative upon the freshly mowed grass. evergreen blades give way underfoot and my bare feet hug right back. I tighten my grip to ease the seized brass garden tap. shoulders tense, eyes squinting in defence of an accidental soak...but fine strands of water dribble through like unset Jelly. A high pitch 'S' sound squeals from the hose. I follow it's dizzying lead snaking around the Hills Hoist into a kink. Too late. steam-train pressure rips the hose from the sprinkler and I'm soaked. 
9  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Fever on: July 07, 2016, 11:30:44 PM
Sight Sound Taste Touch Smell Body Motion/Kinesthetic 10 Minutes


I am your uninvited silent guest. I've made myself at home between the sweat drenched sheets.  dizzy panting. desert thick tongue. Your salt crystal lips show the promise of cracks. yes, it's all my work of art. The shudder of your restless legs entangled as you turn, twist and flip trying to escape my furnace ....and then my billowing icicles. This mirage is my finest work yet. I revel in our journey of my schizophrenic temperatures. I raise salt-streams  from the valleys of your terrain. Toxins and iron scented overtones. We fight, kiss and make-up. Thanks to me you rise tomorrow with the life-force of Niagara Falls.... all because your blood-army has been schooled. My pleasure.

10  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Tattoo on: July 03, 2016, 02:23:47 AM
11  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Nectarine on: July 03, 2016, 02:16:21 AM
sight sound taste touch smell body motion/kinesthetic

Laneways of green spotted with sunburst polka dots. We'd crane our heads to count each bounty along Uncle Jack's orchard that stretched forever. I would reach upon the tips of my toes to the point where I could almost rip the flesh from my ribs......until, yes.....I could wrap my 6 year old hands around the delicate Nectarine skin and twist slightly to the left till it surrendered into my palm. Sweet juice drizzled and escaped over my cheeks, chin and bare knees. Dirt stuck to our sticky parts and made a map of our afternoons. You could trace the lines and layers back through the trees. I salivate recalling those endless childhood summers of Guns N' Robbers amongst the ripening fruit. Oh the Holy pies and dried fruit leather we'd suck and chew for hours!. "Peow-Peow!" we were fruit-sugared-up Cowboys and Indians dancing in and out of dappled light. Screen-free and licking my chin till it was clean. Ahhh, I can almost hear the glorious call;  "Mon petite Nectarines" when Aunt Brigitte sang across the valley....and we'd weave a race like her pastry tops all the way back up to the house.
12  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Puzzle on: July 03, 2016, 12:13:08 AM
Hi Reynold, I agree it can seem strange and frustrating but writing sense-bound regularly has truly lifted my lyric writing. Writing from the senses seemed so challenging to me for months but it has truly helped me to develop the art of showing more than telling and strengthened my ability to see one thing as something else to create metaphors. I recommend  Pat Pattison's 'Writing Without Boundaries' book. I did all his exercises by hand each morning for a couple of months and then to break it up I would come on here for a little change. Handwriting and typing seem to access a different writing voice for me. Anyway, I look forward to reading your stuff. Have fun with it!
13  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Puzzle on: July 02, 2016, 12:31:29 AM
Sight Sound Taste Touch Smell Body Motion/Kinesthetic

In a cloud of reapplied cologne Frankie shuffles Salt & Pepper shakers in a private game of Tic-Tac-Toe.  Gasoline blood revs hard. he fidgets and shifts. steals another glimpse of his wristwatch and the clock on the wall.  happy hour bustles. Chainsaw laughters, clanging plates, a ricochet fork and bass heavy speakers . "Frankie?" a mystery deliverer appears from behind, slides a brown envelope towards the Salt&Pepper and glides on by. Just a faceless charcoal suit striding through swinging doors. The blank envelope stares right back. flat truth lies inside. the room buckles into a soundless vaccuum as his world squeezes through the pin-hole of this little piece of paper.  Herein lies the answers to his flayed heart and fried life. In silent movie slow-motion he lifts the envelope, edges a butter knife between the sealed edge and rips apart the seal. Fidelity no longer a puzzle to solve as pictures scatter like the missing pieces he knew he'd find.
14  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Tattoo - 10 Minutes on: July 01, 2016, 12:49:36 AM
Sight Sound Taste Touch Smell Body Motion/Kinesthetic :  10 Minutes

Her spirit lies within the ink of each petal that curls around the sinew and bones of my right foot. I sang when the needle reached the outside parts. Pain erupted in a rash of prickles up my spine, beads of sweat collected in the collar of my shirt and my only release was a fake operatic bellow in Spanglish. Laughter washed away language barriers between the inker and me but the hourglass of pain was simply just turned over.
 Moons past and my balloon heart still expands and deflates each time I steal a glimpse.  the yin of love and yang of despair. Pain she faded so young and joy that she was born.  squinting through stinging eyes I spy shampoo bubbles surf the shore of her shrine. I break into her favourite song hitting a pitch that bounces off the tiles just enough to raise her spirit. I squelch my nest of hair in rhythm.  Rose & Lemonbalm to lift the hurt, the dirt and tangles. Her melody is tattooed upon my soul. My foot is just the shrine.

15  ObjectWriting / Object Writing Word Of The Day / Re: Miracle on: June 27, 2016, 10:08:21 PM
this transported me!   Cool
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