Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

April 24, 2018, 08:07:02 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: Today at 10:28:15 AM 
Started by jhoff - Last post by jhoff
I lay on the cold metal plank in my paper gown, holding my breath for a few seconds as the metal strikes my skin like a freezing pole in the winter. The doctor tells me to lay as still as possible and not to talk or else the Xray would not take the correct pictures. It smelled of bleach and sterile instruments as i wait patiently for the doctor to start the process. He blankets me with a dark grey lead vest that weighed as much as medium sized terrier. I started to breathe through my stomach as my lungs were constricted by the lead. the doctor told me to close my eyes so that the invisible violet rays wouldn't damage them as they took the picture. I heard the machinery move slightly at the hand of the nurse and a few clicks. I immediately felt as though I was in a factory. She told me to then move onto my size for the next set of pictures. I did as I was told so the robotic hand wouldn't do it for me. Once I was done and I went back into the doctors office and waited for the Dr. to come back with the pictures. When the Doc came in, he set the pictures in front of a LED light like you would do with a negative photo.

 2 
 on: Today at 09:29:44 AM 
Started by Ymmot13 - Last post by Ymmot13
2am in the morning strolling back to the house
Remained faithful couldn't wait to see my spouse
The Lyft dropped me off and you were at the front door
The driver being female was to hard for you to endure
Clearly didn't see the purple mustache on the dash
Cursing and screaming so I tipped her with cash
You're out of your mind you know I'd never cheat
Appeasing your worries becoming an impossible feat

I was out with the boys, you gave me permission
Checking my phone certainly wasn't a condition
Consistent suspicion leading to relationship friction
Come on baby, lay off the X-Ray Vision

Get home from work, I'm on the phone with my mom
Hadn't talked to her in way too long
Ended the conversation exchanging I Love Yous
You hop from behind a door shouting I got you
Bae I swear this lack of trust is causing serious issues
Everytime I look at a girl you're reaching for the tissues
Hate to say it, but it's a required admission
You're starting to put me in an awkward position

I was out with the boys, you gave me permission
Checking my phone certainly wasn't a condition
Consistent suspicion leading to relationship friction
Come on baby, lay off the X-Ray Vision

Walk out the kitchen and you're searching my phone
Breach of privacy something I can't condone
You say you see texts from my long gone ex
Those are from 3 years ago, come on where's the respect
Put the phone down I'm sick of this
Playtime is over, so read my lips
We're over, there's no room for revision
You should've laid off the X-ray vision

I was out with the boys, you gave me permission
Checking my phone certainly wasn't a condition
Consistent suspicion leading to relationship friction
Come on baby, lay off the X-Ray Vision

 3 
 on: April 23, 2018, 06:05:08 AM 
Started by amcsparran - Last post by amcsparran
The summer sun beaming off the slick white boat deck. Sparkling glitter dancing on the water's surface, hypnotizing me as we skim across the lake. My skin is pink and tender from the day, I can taste the salt on my lips from the heat of the season. The vibrations from the rumbling motor behind me jars me from my day dreaming, to hear the birds clamoring in the trees. The boat rocks with the wake of other boats speeding to the dock and screeching to a creep. The blue-green water laps harshly against the fiberglass, echoing through the boat ramp area. I shift in my seat, fully feeling the pain of the nylon strap of my life jacket rubbing tight against my skin throughout the day. The motor clicks abruptly behind me as my father sharply puts it into reverse as we inch closer to the dock. I feel a sinking dread in my chest as I approach the edge of the boat, realizing the timeless adventure we've spent today is coming to a close. Tomorrow is the end of summer. This day on the water, this homage to the greatness of the wilderness is the perfect period.

 4 
 on: April 21, 2018, 07:30:19 PM 
Started by Moonshine - Last post by Moonshine
We call it candy floss where I come from
though its really not so good for your teeth.
I remember the sweet smell
You can actually smell sugar ?
I was quite  surprised
A wooden stick  poked into the whirly machine
the mmmmagic wand.
Incantations are made, stirring gestures  
and presto,
candy floss.
pretty,
pink,
fluffy soft that curiously  turns hard as you bite into it.
but sweet
(Kinda like my wife)
gotta shoot the ring off the bottle !
and get the cuddly toy!
the  man on the waltzer!
does the mad tango.




.

 5 
 on: April 20, 2018, 10:32:02 AM 
Started by Dgazzer - Last post by Dgazzer
Brown leather cover,
tied with a piece of leather lace.
The word Diary etched in pretty font on the face.
The smell of the pages well worn,
coffee stained and pages torn.

My deepest thoughts flow from my pen
every night on a new page I begin
to let the cosmos know about me
It's my life in this Diary

Angry words, my blood boils
I can taste the bitter letters as they spill on the page
my knuckles white as I grip the pen
Another lonely night, nothing but the deafening sound of pen on paper

My heart leaps as I recall the first touch
her hand on my shoulder that laugh, too much


 6 
 on: April 19, 2018, 05:19:10 PM 
Started by Moonshine - Last post by Moonshine
The drunken diary
bleating heart
between the lines there is nothing
but spaces
wasted words
worries and wounds
stutters  shutters 
shut up
things that cannot be said
for fear of
words
that
hurt
storms of razor blades
spittle bombs
you are not
the truth
not you
are  not
you.

 7 
 on: April 19, 2018, 08:35:02 AM 
Started by Dgazzer - Last post by Dgazzer
Warm sun, passing down through the trees.
The leaves sparkle in the light.
Feet up swinging to and fro
Something about doing nothing just feels right

An old worn paper back I've been anxious to read
Cold sweat on the side of my glass of sweet tea
Not a soul around it's just me
Laying back in a hammock

Cut off jean shorts
no shoes or socks
Slow moving Sunday afternoon
Laying back in a hammock.

The smell of BBQ from a few doors down
I can taste the sauce so sweet
Sunshine moving past the shade of the tree
Burning down hot on my feet

Beads of sweat down my brow
pull the worn ball cap down low
the rattle of the ice in my empty glass

 8 
 on: April 18, 2018, 08:05:06 AM 
Started by Dgazzer - Last post by Dgazzer
That deep feeling of someone watching, disappointed eyes staring as I slowly walk up the concrete steps. I reach for the cold metal handle on the familiar wooden door. It creaks open and I walk inside, eyes taking a while to adjust to the dark but the smell of incense brings me back to the many times I stood at the side of the alter. The red gown covered by the white top, I don't even know what those were called. As my sight comes back I see the alter at the far end of the church. The taste of stale bread and cheap wine come back to me. The feel of the wood from the pews as I walk down the centre isle. Pictures of Saints all seem to be staring at me in a " decided to make an appearance?" kind of look. Jesus's head seems to hang lower, as if disappointed I haven't come to see him in awhile. The quiet makes me uncomfortable. I lower a kneeler onto the ground  so the creaking sound will echo up to the ceiling and back down the walls. Old people begin to shuffle in. The alter server comes out and begins to light the candles. The smell of the wax hits my nose, I loved doing that job when I was a kid. 

 9 
 on: April 18, 2018, 08:03:11 AM 
Started by milk - Last post by Ymmot13
bump

 10 
 on: April 18, 2018, 05:33:02 AM 
Started by Chris Dudley - Last post by Chris Dudley
Left standing at the altar, the discarded groom
Fallen flower petals swept up with a broom
This wedding over before it begins
No bride, no wedding, no happy ending.

The altar alone, the hard block of stone
No celebration today
They call it cold feet but it must be more
No faith in a future more than fear.

The petals fall from a few flowers
That cluster around the groom
He waits by the altar as guests slide away
He’s numb, he’s blind, he’s all gone.

At the American Legion, they’ve rented the hall
There’s food, cake and a band
But the altar blocks him, he cannot pass
No bride, no party, he just stands.

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