Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

June 24, 2018, 01:26:57 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
Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 10
 1 
 on: June 22, 2018, 06:41:49 AM 
Started by Luci - Last post by Luci
Cotton Candy
I was only about 8 or 9, I don't even remember, I don't even know where I was, or who I was with.  Then someone gave me huge something in pink, I did not know what it was and I wondered why would I be trusted, or given something so big for such a cheap price.  Yes, there is a huge smile on my face, only because I had something pink in my hands.  I did not know what to do, or how to open my mouth to pick a bite, but then I saw other kids using there hands to pick a piece of that abandonment and generous toy that I could eat.  Then I took a bite and it melted in my mouth.  Not only that it left my tongue in pink. I do not remember a lot of flavor to it, but I know the wind felt softer and there is no way it would take away my father light new toy called cotton candy.  I remember trying to take a bite again, but this time I did not use my hands.  It felt like a scrubbing soft delicate piece of fabric on my lips. I giggled of course, I felt that was an adventure, something out of ordinary.  Something to brag about to other kids. After few bites I realize this new adventure so called candy is melting fast in my mouth.   What is it filled of I wondered.  Is it just an air?  Why didn't they squeeze out the ai ;Dr before they gave it to me?  Can I make this thing like a small candy and eat it? Oh I can eat this whole thing I told to myself and it will be okay.  Why is the color changing to cherry red when it gets wet?  So cool I thought to myself. I wonder if I could get another color.  I became a fan of this huge candy that was light and fluffy and melted in colors in my mouth.  I knew I was going to see my cousins that weekend and I could not wait to tell them.  I still smile when I see a child holding a cotton candy.   Now I realize that thing must have been as big as my head.   I see other kinds now wanting to open their mouth really wide. Did I do the same thing or did I looked as silly as these little kids.  Someone handed me a cotton candy at work get together the other day.  Was I going to let my inner child to come out and go for it in front of my adult co-workers?  Were they doing the same thing, I know they just went for it.  I wish I can find something as an adult now that will excite me as much as the cotton candy on that sunny summer afternoon.

 2 
 on: June 20, 2018, 11:51:22 AM 
Started by Higgs88 - Last post by Higgs88
I look at pieces of my former self, eyes folded into memories of yesteryear. Soft breeze eeks through the window. Pages and pages on the eggshell pulpy paper, written over with a metallic silver fine tip. The sounds of chaos and drama float out of the diary as I rake through high school entries, running and smashing pads with teammates during sweltering two-a-days, slurping lasagna and choking down cornbread in the cold cafeteria, longing looks at my crush, words that never escaped my mind, except to live in the pages of this spiralbound notebook. Shoulders stiff, rub my neck in little semi-circles the feeling of a girl I liked brushing up against me heading into class. My nervous smile, things that never--

 3 
 on: June 20, 2018, 06:32:45 AM 
Started by Luci - Last post by Luci
I wrote and wrote, in my diary.  Like there is no tomorrow, like a child complaining to his mother wanting to be heard and held.  It had become too much to understand, too much to hold, too much to take too much to be okay with.  I needed the guidance the inner wisdom, the Universe, the God to help me figure out my next step.  Desperate but trusting, I wrote and wrote.   I was writing fast, without paying any attention to my handwriting.   I was thinking, really? Is it  going to matter 1 year from now? Am I going to look back and laugh at the things I am worried about today?  How can I grow and become better because of this situation in my life.   My diary was gracious, it did not care.  It had not voice to complain.  But I heard, I heard the guidance I was looking for.  Just take it easy child He said.  I am going to shield you with the wings of Angel. I am going to protect you.  I am going to Love you.  You can never be on the ground, you will never fail even though it might feel that way.  This is my message to you.

 4 
 on: June 16, 2018, 07:46:00 PM 
Started by ?Ian? - Last post by ?Ian?
My feet were submerge in the water just by a couple inches but I could still feel the current of the river pulling me with its full force. Toes of my left foot were tickled by dozen of pet it pebbles while the remaining part of it was taking comfort in one much larger stone positioned right underneath the very center of my sole.

 5 
 on: June 12, 2018, 04:37:57 PM 
Started by Moonshine - Last post by Moonshine
Doctor Doctor! 
my words are repeating
again and again
again and again
"Hmmm"
He said
"I see"
"try this"
"repeat after me"

"my words are not repeating "
my words are not repeating

"it's just the way that I've been eating"
it's just the way that I've been eating

"I must  learn to masticate  and conjugate" 
I must  learn to masticate  and conjugate 

"and take my time to ruminate"
and take my time to ruminate

"so take these purple pills and call me in the morning"
so take these purple pills and call me in the morning


Doctor Doctor!
my words are all repeating......

 6 
 on: June 10, 2018, 05:53:49 AM 
Started by milk - Last post by Moonshine
Bumpety Bump Bump

 7 
 on: June 06, 2018, 05:02:58 AM 
Started by peachfuzz - Last post by peachfuzz
I walk to the aisle, it's towering walls bend in around me, the world could topple down any moment.
I run in. The checkered floor bounds my speed, with a rubbery grip
I run my fingers down the smooth cereal boxes, each one with a hidden crunchy texture.  Each one with colors bright and playful.
And bags of cookies alas, their plastic wrapping krinkles in my hands. Their inner air pressures against my hungry grip,
Cool refrigerated atmosphere keeps me calm, as smooth 80's pop songs bounce through the squeaky shopping carts.

 8 
 on: June 05, 2018, 11:40:24 AM 
Started by Ymmot13 - Last post by Ymmot13
Seeking relief from the eternal pain
That rains down questioning if I'm still sane
Not sure if it'll ever change
If I'll ever escape this heartache phase
It's not a cry for help so save the violins
Not seeking some random guidance
I appreciate the advice, but keep it to yourself
This self-loathing ain't a cry for help

It shouldn't come to you as such a shocker
I'm not seeking help from the love doctor
Gonna exit this abyss no matter the cost
But for right now I'm just lost in my thoughts

I don't need your pills, or your cold hands
Just getting a tan laying in the sand
Healthy distractions is what I'm craving
So please stop your bad attempts at saving
Me from myself, I'll be good in the long run
Just needed 10 minutes to release the bum
I've had a great life and for that I'm thankful
Just times like these my glass doesn't seem half full

It shouldn't come to you as such a shocker
I'm not seeking help from the love doctor
Gonna exit this abyss no matter the cost
But for right now I'm just lost in my thoughts

1 minute left to get this last thought of my chest
I shouldn't haven't saved the last as best
Psych nah I don't have another line in mind
My apologizes for ending this rant on a lie

 9 
 on: June 05, 2018, 05:02:54 AM 
Started by peachfuzz - Last post by peachfuzz
white cushion leather lays out at a 45 degree angle
with a step pulled out at the bottom
gadget gleam hanging from the ceiling
silver, magnetic, lenses, watch me as i enter the room

My hands are clammy and red. and me knees are oddly bent to match the cushion and step distance.
I'm told to lay back which puts pressure on my lower back, and bright lights make my eyes sensitive






 10 
 on: June 04, 2018, 12:15:10 PM 
Started by Higgs88 - Last post by Higgs88
The day folds out into tropical layers, ice cream in the sky. Inky pen I fumble with it, drop it then groan feeling the tightness in my muscles as I pick it off the grassy ground. park bench green chipped away and etched over with f*ck you's and phone numbers. My breath is slow and measured the taste of mouthwash minty fresh lingering I run my tongue across my teeth, black ink tight and clean over the paper my hand routinely falls over the blank line. I rub my eyes, the last of my savings slipping into payments. Yellow flowers blow in the soft breezy--   

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