January 2018

Object Writing - 3

Submitted by ebeMajor on Fri, 01/26/2018


White is the snow on the mountain tops but the rainbow is not. Grey is the cloudy horizon but rainbow is not. Black is the approaching night but the rainbow is not. What colour is the rainbow? It is red, like poppies among the grass and apples on the trees and cherry lips to kiss. It is orange because there are autumns leaves and carrots and tangerines and the setting sun. It is yellow for the full day sun, the sun smiling down of buttercups and lemons, the sun reflected on sunflowers, which adore it.

Object Writing - 2

Submitted by ebeMajor on Sat, 01/20/2018

Crayon Box

Cold as it is, it cannot but be of metal. Thin as it is, it cannot but be a crayon box. Large as it is, it cannot but contain forty-eight crayon, to say the least. Good. What else? Shake it and you get a shuffled jazzy sound. Sniff it only if you want to be balked. Hold it and you can feel the world in it, bubbling and crackling to get out. Now it's time to open it. Look, here they are, arranged in the order their manufacturer chose, tint after tint, shade after shade, ready to cast their matter onto your page in violent contrasts or subtle accords, at your will.

Object Writing - 1

Submitted by ebeMajor on Fri, 01/12/2018


Vintage, smooth, light and grey. Very grey. And very smooth. And oily. It may stain. But, oh!, those keytops! All in order, layer by layer, all upright as during attendance, they are waiting for the magic to come. Fingertips, are you ready? Eyes, did you find the letters? Nose, can you please stop smelling that funny grease? Mouth, shut up, it's not your turn. Let expectation take control, it may not know where it will lead but it knows that it will be music. All the typebars are flashing, quickly, quickly, it's a melody, it's a symphony!