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 |   All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
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The Idiotic Ideate?? Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection to the falling action I feel now that settles in a white case.) Got to hustle to preserve the best of me before fully fading on that virtual horizon glowing more brilliant with each passing day to permanent nuclear winter. if people don’t get it, I don’t need to explain it. We kill all that’s beautiful before we question it’s purpose. So many people find it easier to think in the black and the white. God forbid you get lost straying in the gray. "Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.” I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad. The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone. In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice of your own, you might as well hand over your civil liberties. We have voices that should connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted? Unify on issues and put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. If none need apply, question the unbendable sources for answer. If you knee-jerk react to every issue lurking out there that clutches your neck, you fall victim to your own ignorance born from a life of apathy (no doubt) in pathetic cries of injustice. Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head. [MY Chorus] In your house, I long to be Room by room, patiently I'll wait for you there, like a stone I'll wait for you there, alone "It amazed me how truth was often suffocated in minutes, but lies were given sufficient air to breathe indefinitely." "You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself." ![Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
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Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in [Link To Item #2164876] with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!
Rachel *^*Heartv*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Second_Time_Around_Contest-2164963_14.gif)    "...lasting art is never anything more than a mathematical expression of the relations that exist between the internal and the external, the self [le moi] and the world." -Jean Metzinger I'm in love with carefully chosen words, arranged just so, audible, edible, to inhale. I attempt to post new poems and epiphanies daily with some links to what inspires. I am legally blind with a rare, genetic form of glaucoma. I'm described as "end stage" after two successful surgeries, still subject to further vision loss. Cataracts complicating matters. Writing Can get strenuous but seldom deters what yearns to emerge, despite a documented history of depression and recently diagnosed ADHD and undefinable social disorders and/or PTSD. My recent poetry:
Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on... Making sense of life is maddening. Why do I need to know, when truth may not actually exist? Learning to accept would be a better pursuit? Flailing about in my own mediocrity, hoping to bust out. I am visible. You can put a face with a name. I would like to see other writers, too. Fiction is what you write, not who you are. Reinventing myself. I couldn't continue on the path I was on and needed a fresh start. This time around I want to put the focus on writing and the world outside of this community as it affects my life. I realize now that I have been baring my chest a bit more, as when young. fake me much more boring and unliberated than the real me. A world arriving as silent as that blossom in your garden that I told you about... |
| It started with some words in my head that I had to jot down. For no one in particular, especially me... Don't Kid Yourself (Honestly) Where winds strafe the skies, you hunker down to die. Bunkered, fearing invisible, aimless forces dictating your destiny, like you had one, you suddenly realize you weren't meant for anything. You can begin to live, appreciate even the smallest creatures you've taken comfort amid; rise above them all. Soar into the unknown and die with some dignity. Fulfilled, you have ascended into nothing. |
| Perhaps, I write because I need an alibi... https://twitter.com/glaedrfly/status/589848688018731012 https://twitter.com/glaedrfly/status/589714445171064832 Am I in your head, yet? Let me know when you get inside, because I'm locked in here. He’s Brian K Compton  |
| I hear a lonesome sound when the wind rustles the trees, And it's in me. I sense the giant pines unrest where birds hunker down; quiet for more than an hour now. The snowy owl hunts. I buried the rabbit's fur in the dark, silent bed; spared from my her innocence She'd hate the feathered visitor, if she knew of his lust to live. Why do we have to grow up? Can we just have our rain; get it over with? I could tend to my garden. I don't like the pines anymore. They stir something within me that I cannot silence. REWRITE I hear a lonesome sound wind rustling the trees, and it's in me. I sense the giant's unrest birds hunker down; quiet for too long now. The snowy owl still hunts. I buried the rabbit's fur in the dark, silent bed. I spared her innocence. She'd hate the feathered visitor, if she knew of his lust. Why do we have to grow up? Can we just have our rain; get it over with? I could tend to my garden. I don't like the pines anymore. They stir something within me that I cannot silence. STILL needs work. |
| Everything starts with good intention, but we lose ourselves along the way... set private 4.2015, from late 2014 re-opened 2020 |
| Hashing out poems with little potential here... Insulated, numb Can't feel you Can't feel My arrogance Full, yet I need I need you Across this desert Dead Can't drink life Can't drink Dry Bones ache, cold Yet, sweat Visions, delusions Are all I have An empty gut needs meat Needs to eat Yet, no hunger Can't feel Numb Another... My heart is a metronome Steady Beating Always repeating Echoing It's unrelenting Love OR somehow haiku? My heart is a metronome Steady, beating Echoing unrelenting love More... Just Love Me Back You feel the laughter Hot on your ears veins thick With the humility Hands forming Defeated fists While concealing eyes Wanton intent burning for a lifetime Because of one moment innocence, ignorance Can't take back publicly professed love Poor Juliet Had no intention Was in no position To echo back Or Was it not love? Infatuation put you in that square On the empty soap box Where a part of you still remains. Who am I trying to convince here? Just love me back. Maybe, I'll know. One more, even more depressing...hashing out still and may never finish these... Let me inhale the sweet gas Fill these hungering lungs Savor a (black, vile) mixture (that rolls down) Beneath the gums Then, send your (harsh, brutal) lips So it will numb Every fear of losing you When we're done My fantasy is your suicide For one so young To send sweet greetings From your tongue Deeper down I will go Before I'm hung On this poisoned remedy I'm that dumb. Why does rhyme either punctuate or kill the mood, message? So hard to know when to run to or from the desire to create these appetizing sounds that beg to be heard, implore an answer. |
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In the Falkland Islands, internet is very limited and very expensive. The place I'm currently staying only lets me use it in the middle of the night, so when I have to get up at 3 am to check my texts (no cell service to the US here unless I'm on the internet) or WdC, I don't do nearly as much as I used to. 
I currently have 2 very long emails I still need to get to from several days ago. Anyway, I miss everyone, but I also miss sleep, so there's that. 
Have you spoken to the doctor about your vision problems lately? I know there are special glasses for it because I have to wear them to read much ever since the brain injury. It's part of why I now only listen to audiobooks instead of reading regular books. It took 8 years for anyone to diagnose it because I have a brain injury and while one might think it would be obvious to me that I see double, it wasn't. Partly, my brain does a fair job of compensating. But also, partly, you use your brain to realize and understand that the 2 images you constantly see are double vision and something you should mention to your eye doctor. Since my brain was damaged, even basic things like that can escape me. 
I never once thought to mention it, even with annual eye exams in the Army and an exam every 2 years at the VA. Though, in my defense, since it happens in something like 41% of people with a brain injury, it should have been discovered by an eye doctor much sooner. 
I know doing that activity is a CRAP TON of work. But you made a difference in lives, not just his, but for all the people he's reviewed since. 
Well done! 
