Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

March 22, 2019, 02:33:22 AM
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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 ... 8 9 [10]
 91 
 on: March 06, 2019, 03:40:46 AM 
Started by oohl90 - Last post by oohl90
3/5 - LA
Damp sidewalks. Clicking boot heels. A rare misty LA morning. Quiet and chilly. Morning sun playing peek-a-boo behind cotton candy clouds. Hot coffee warming my hands. Wafts of bitter, smoky steam poke at my senses as if to say “ snap out of it!” or “it’s time to get going!” Downtown, old school brick walls scream of lost nostalgia and my nowhere I really need to be-ness. Distant sirens are the soundtrack of my listless walk. Passerby’s dressed to impress and walking with purpose, I convince myself they’re all more important than myself. LA usually intimidates me. All the glowing people with perfect skin, but today I find myself perfectly comfortable in these foreign graffiti’d streets. Clicking boot heels accompany my beating heart back to my car, only to find a parking ticket waving like the inflatable dancing man balloons at a used car lot. I keep walking I’m not ready to give up this aimless adventure just yet, or maybe I’m simply avoiding the parking lot of brake lights that will be my drive back to the coast.

 92 
 on: March 05, 2019, 06:49:41 PM 
Started by mattvs86 - Last post by mattvs86
Grabbing a word from a few days ago.  Not having been in LA... doesn't do much for me.

We row away from the shore, and begin our journey around the lake.  The sunlight shimmers off the crystal clear water.  An eagle soars overhead, lazily keeping watch.  The boat stops and we bait our hooks with slimy cold leeches.  The hooked little mouth momentarily catches me before I shake it off.  I cast and hear the familiar punk hit the water, and can feel the bait drop deeper into the lake.  And then complete silence.  Far from the industrial sized noise making of the big city.  My thoughts keep me company, but sometimes I silence them so I can truly be alone.  A tug from my line, and I quickly jerk into alertness, the tension in the rod becoming tighter and tighter.  As I slowly reel in, I hope it's not a slimy Northern.  I can see a shadow start to come to the surface, and the sunlight shines off the skin of a walleye.  Black polka dots cover it's skin, and it's gaping mouth voices its objections to being caught.  My partner adroitly flips the net to scoop the fish up.  The only thing better might be the eventual fish fry. 

 93 
 on: March 04, 2019, 06:28:32 PM 
Started by mattvs86 - Last post by mattvs86
Another cold, dreary day, the sound of rain pitter pattering against the covering over my front door as I exit my apartment.  Anxious cars break and slide as they navigate through downtown.  Even bundled up in my warm jacket, zipped all the way to the top, I shiver.  Nothing is quite as bad as being cold and wet.  In one swift motion, I exit the protected cover, take 3 steps down off the entry way, and open my umbrella.  A metal rod with metal arms and a dark black top.  It opens enough to do the job, but not enough to make it's use enjoyable.  I swear at the umbrella, knowing that it's continued use is completely my fault.  As I walk to work, I hear the sound of fancy work shoes clunking against the cement.  I smirk, as my work shoes are neatly wrapped in protective rubber, as I confidently strut along.  Traffic is at a standstill, so I cut across, the bright lights blinding me, and the brief enchantingly toxic smell of gas and diesel fills my nostrils.  As my one arm tires, I smoothly transfer to the other arm, not missing a beat.  I glance to the side of the road, and notice a large indentation and a big pool of water.  Like a metallic 5 year old sprinting and splashing in a puddle, a car zips by, drowning me in a sea of water and despair.   

 94 
 on: March 04, 2019, 08:55:08 AM 
Started by Nova - Last post by Nova

A pocket watch dangles from a chain, swinging like a pendulum to the beat of my heart. The antique piece, which has aged quite beautifully, stares at me with its wide alert eyes as if those shiny gold rims frame a human face. A childhood nightmare burns in my cold chest and the seared flesh hisses with my blood. My hackles rise and I taste his smile of bitter revenge.

 95 
 on: March 04, 2019, 04:19:39 AM 
Started by Higgs88 - Last post by Higgs88
Cold air coming through, I wrap my arms around myself, stick my hands in deep pockets, feel lint in my fingernails. A shiver floats up my spine in slow motion, shaking my entire torso. The air smells fumy, radiator must be leaking, I feel like I could cut the thickness in half, bitter taste on my tongue, the metal handle is frozen river cold, my joints press out of natural places to turn it, I feel dizzy. Lights reflect in fragments from outside, red streetlights and passing yellow glows, distortions of color and metal as people make their way through winter's night. Cinnamon scented candle burns to, the wick touching the glass at the bottom, flame fading, casting small shapes on the wall. My leftovers sit hard on the plate, squirmy peas and burnt pieces of egg I let the drowsiness of the house take me, the cushions swallow me in the illusion of warmth.     

 96 
 on: March 03, 2019, 05:18:17 PM 
Started by Nova - Last post by Nova
A flower - deep blue - dancing wildly in the evening breeze reminds me of her. Even the salty peppery air smells like her. Where your eyes meet, so uneven and roughly etched but underneath, where few souls can see is a softness to be grateful for. The old trees standing tall around me rustle and the whisper sounds like her name. For an eternal moment, I feel her everywhere. Watching out for me as always. The viridian green of the leaves doesn't seem to go with her color. It is truly not fair to have made her this way. Perhaps, her dull stem and lifeless tendrils are vestiges from times I don't remember. In the dusty dry mold growing out of nowhere, she sways to the rhyme of music and warms up under the golden sun. To be strong on a day nobody is.

 97 
 on: March 03, 2019, 10:46:28 AM 
Started by Dorian Black - Last post by Dorian Black
Winter has finally decided to show its teeth, and everything is sleeping under a thick white blanket. Inside my room, a lonely radiator is trying its best to offer some consolation, he will stay up all night working to allow us to get some proper sleep. I lay at the edge of my bed with my feet outside its edges, touching the radiator. Thick socks protect me from burning and I enjoy this warming sensation I get. every now and then I change position so that different parts of my feet touch the warm surface. Some positions can get uncomfortable so I stay there a little time. My feet slip from the white shiny surface, I need to keep them up, a small price for the warmth I get. Soon I get sleepy, i get back under the thick blankets in the bed, my feet still feeling the warmth from their aluminium friend on the wall. I take a last look at the radiator as I close my eyes, it looks back at me, silent, motionless. “Go to sleep, I’ve got this” and I follow his suggestion.

 98 
 on: March 02, 2019, 11:18:44 PM 
Started by Higgs88 - Last post by Higgs88
Swimming in crystal blue water, skin shivering, little bumps forming, arm hairs standing up like soldiers at attention. Colors beneath, shadowy shapes I see orange and yellow then it's gone. My teeth chatter, the sun not working hard enough body fat low to nothing, skin clings to my bones, nipples small and perked. Fish live here I think. Fish, scales like armor keeping them smooth, breathing through holes that keep water out. Fish, speared, stuck in a cooler, eyes popping out. Cleaned, thrown in a cast iron pot that sizzles loudly when the fish lands, sesame oil slick and black pepper stuck in the back of my throat I cough it out... Running over hot rocks my feet crying out in pain I hop, see dried crab bodies and a fish bone jerkeyed in the hot day.. Noisy din at a restaurant the waiter opens a lid and steam rises to the ceiling fans smell of capers and cod, mashed potatoes--   

 99 
 on: March 02, 2019, 07:13:37 PM 
Started by Lowwraine13 - Last post by Dorian Black
Thousands of dancers in perfect harmony, a silver scowl against a deep blue canvas, constant movement, their shiny skin momentarily reflecting the light and the disappear in the vastness of the crowd. Round and round, like a fine tuned machine, instinct dictates all their movements. They need to keep moving, the predators are near and here in the depths there no hiding. Just keep moving, there safety in numbers, or at least a delay of the inevitable. For them there’s no yesterday, no tomorrow. It’s just today, survive, feed, reproduce. No emotions and no feelings, survival is the only objective. Survive and reproduce, keep the circle running. The show must go on.

 100 
 on: March 02, 2019, 06:20:16 PM 
Started by Lowwraine13 - Last post by Lowwraine13
                     The moss and the wet dirt slushed up between our toes. My  brothers and I walked up to the green water with cane poles in our hands. The breeze blew just enough to ripple the end of our shorts. The sun bit at the back of our necks as we took our spots along the edge of our neighbors pond. Fish and minnows swam to and fro nibbling at the clouds of muck caused by the sinking of our feet. You could hear the cars rush by out on the road off to our backs. We knew there was life out there but we were to young to grasp why they were in such a hurry, we could barely give a damn. Our world was hidden. With a some muck water, a hole in the ground, and surrounded by popples and oak trees. Nothing like a Tuesday in the the summer.

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