All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
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." "...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... |
For LuAnne, who never understood our fate... I witnessed you a thousand feet higher Blue waters purged blue sky And your eyes And mine Alive Two hands United elements We hiked You lifted me higher on Sugarloaf mountain It was not the ore docks, great steel ships, coasting seagulls or fall colors that you described that memory fails to recall, but your song on a chill, sunny day where we paused amid restless leaves decaying You cleansed me, freed me from ignorance, solitude, gave me hope that I could love better Love someone like you. |
Posting for posterity...raw... Piano Needs Tuning Auditorially challenged No rest for a beset mind Scanning a dim-lit screen In the adjacent kitchen Each discordant key echoes Off bay windows into the open area Shared rests between the keenly measured notes Plodding along a spectrum of sound sagging strings resonate inside an upright Baldwin. Once rich mahogany, faded by sunlight, Stained by coffee, marred by the talons Of unrepentant felines, sturdily depresses The carpet, not seen in 12 years. Rolled away once for an errant plane, The boys favorite when he was four. Dust bunnies act like mortar beneath The tarnished pedals now showing their wear. Music sheets land like his forgotten plaything Stick out from bench and beneath stacks Of forgotten melodies since his first lesson. Markings on the pages more sophisticated Hinges on bands of notes more erratic Pages taped together like paper doll cutouts Dance along the edge, daringly stare at the ground From the edge of their cliff, never falling. Their master deftly pushes back each teetering truant With free hand Without missing those white levers attached to hammers percussing rhapsodic rhythms Begging still the piano tuner to tighten lines For the daring, high-wire act. |
Final analysis: How Donald Trump became President https://briankeithcompton.wordpress.com/2016/11/09/how-donald-trump-became-presi... via @wordpressdotcom |
Leaf-shadowed crossroads brightening the longer I pause indecisive nearing an even tide sun setting knowing I'm prompted to choose when to push forward gentle into that good night It won't matter what road I travel. Everything beautiful we yearn has already been perfected...and lost. |
These are the prompts that inspire me. BTW, not a good poem, but love pushing around those words to see what I can do with dreamlike subject... Eye of God, In your death throes, trillion-mile-long tunnel of glowing gases, A journey I long Alone, where I belong Let me penetrate Your aquarian realm, Swim in a blue sea of telescopic light, Disintegrate my limbs Together, grow strong Five billion years Is too long to wait The final, evolutionary state Send my heart on arrow To mythical heaven Earth rots my organs Promises death only Your faint nebula plugs a constellation Fill an empty container With unwished dreams. Inspired by... http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1155834/Eye-God-The-nebula-watche... The image Intrigued and article peaked my longing to know more. |
I always struggled with being labeled as 'different' and then 'sensitive' so I learned to humble myself through self-deprecating humor to gain acceptance... That did not go well, either. So, I'm a mix of narcissist, self-hater and non-conformist who wants to see the world his way...
These days, I'm indifferent, mostly. But, I can be deeply passionate and opinionated when I'm moved. I reserve those feelings for personal stuff. |
"He who humbles himself will be exalted." Just trust in God's mercy. Beautifully worded prayers mean nothing if the heart behind them contains self-righteousness but no real faith or humility. God will draw near to us during times of humble prayer, but if our inner self is haughty as we pray, He will regard our petitions from a distance. Though the Lord is on high, He looks upon the lowly, but the proud He knows from afar. — Psalm 138:6 |
Invisible waves reap moisture Harvested condensates They're succor a void Curling foliage Like warped origami Brightly Spastic The spindly laughing children Sway on indifferent arms Soon unburdened As their subjects Scurry off With the recess alarm. To be edited when I'm rested... |
Evaporate me Plunder the air Temperate, clean molecules Swarm my head Vibrating, mending My body. Pulses Racing neural pathways Rapping bones Like basement pipes Spiral to my toes Bounce back up. Brewed beverages Bubbling warmth Wisdom in a cup Windows couldn't be cleaner Visions clearer, I dream inside This throbby reverie. But the wind picks up Driver blasts a horn Wake up call Realism. Foggy Time portal fading Into real time I hear the clock Tick, tick my life Restarting as a sigh Escapes. Evaporate = cease to exist, desire to die in a perfect moment to preserve one last memory... Condensate could be used as the thing that keeps him liquid, unable to die, to preserve moment |
I lost 20 lbs. in two years, though feels it's really been since the start of summer. My workout regimen is really paying off. But I've turned the corner into AARPland and don't know how much longer I can keep this up. The health insurance company through my wife's employer wants the unhealthy people to pay. So, over the last few years I've been forced to meet certain requirements to avoid having insurance premiums jacked up $50 a pay period. They measured BMI (body mass index) and collected data on height, weight and body fat. I trimmed 5% body fat and dropped BMI below obesity level. Feels like I'm still dropping weight, because I move better on basketball court and people who haven't seen me in awhile are remarking about the difference they see. So, it's encouraging and I want to keep trying. Problem area is my left knee. A doc told me a year ago that I'd be a candidate for knee replacement in three years at this rate. That would mean I'd have to give up the game/running (death sentence 😔) once they repair me. Praying for advances in surgical techniques before my time runs out. In the meantime, I was fitted with a walking brace and I'm using Ace wraps (sometimes on both knees) to reduce stress on those joints. The brace is supposed to keep my leg from bowing. I'm so used to wearing it, would love a mate for my other leg. Puts more strain on my back, but I'm working on posture, too. I'm getting an overhauled version of me. It will never be as good as the original, but I feel good. I like how I feel after running up and down the court (3 times a week, 2-3 hours a day). I lost my appetite for sugars, drink coffee with butter and coconut oil in it (I heard the Bulletproof coffee doesn't really work, but I think it curbs my appetite and like the taste) and I make sure to hydrate a lot (cutting out soda and juice, etc.). Pain meds are also a part of my process, as well as gloucosamine for joint revitalization. I use ibuprofen more than Naproxen because I think it works better in short term, but mix it up based on what I'm doing (and I watch the doses to maximize potential without going over in 24 hour period). I discovered Voltarin gel which I can apply directly to stiff areas to reduce swelling and it is safe because it does not affect vital organs. Ice is very important. Use it when I know I have inflammation that needs to be controlled, and sleep. Did I mention sleep? Workouts are perfect remedy to combat my nocturnal episodes. But, caffeine usage before I play can make me crazy. Cutting out sugars helped. I found a sugarless energy drink and consume it after a coffee. Gets my heart racing. I also know not to go over 400 mgs per 24 hours and come in around 160-200 before I play. But sleep, it can be an issue. It definitely had been in the past. I suffered from depression most my life. Have small bouts still. I can work through most stuff now to get to sleep. I also have sleep apnea which is being treated with a dental appliance to open my airway. Had to get used to that. The nights I can quiet my mind, I sleep relatively well. But, I get behind on my sleep. My wife says that isn't a thing. But, when I take a pill for anti-anxiety when I have a good window to sleep, it's some of the best rest. I can go two consecutive days with three or less hours of sleep, be grumpy but function okay until I hit that sweet sleep spot and hit reset button on normality. I find a rested body performs better at basketball, complains less of pain and needs less repair afterward. That got pretty detailed. Been thinking about that and all the injuries I've suffered and still deal with like tennis elbow and the repaired rotator cuff. And now, the cherry on top: I'm legally blind. I find there are good and bad days with damage to eyes from glaucoma. But, I'm at home in that little gym I've been visiting these past 10 years. I can adapt knowing the game and learning from playing with a lot of the same people. So, with all the people saying I can't, I will myself to play ball better than I have since 30. I don't know where this is taking me. I want to get the most I can from it, before that knee goes or something else derails my run. |
I don't talk about basketball in my blog anymore. I go to the gym 2-3 times a week, sometimes spending up to three straight hours in pickup games at the YMCA. My game recently improved greatly, but I needed my wife to shoot some video to see how I'm moving. I'm somewhat hesitant to put my head down and run full steam most of the time because of my issues with eyesight (legally blind from glaucoma). Can't be displeased with the results from what I saw so far on video. I don't want to upload entire games to YouTube and taking it from a camera, so there are steps in editing process that I will need time to complete. I write about my experiences in tweet form now, at one of my three Twitter accounts. The rest of my thoughts were going in hand-written journals, but lost interest in doing that, too. |
plain and simple...this is THE song...for me: Another song that got me excited and still gets me to sing along...when alone... I'm a huge nerd who loves 'Chuck' and the ever so digest able 'Cake'... |
It's been awhile since I've given a review to a thoroughly meritous work. And once in awhile, got that much appreciated response to my effort. Been looking back at my ten years here and have identified highlights like this that brought me joy... "Invalid Entry" |
Blue Quiet Somber like chilled rain clinging to this dull glass, you won't get inside where darkness is cast. Illuminating blue light is warmth. No fire can smoke hard enough, burn as bright as the rage within. But quiet now, the damper open wide, wild seek refuge near, use the dead of autumn to clog my heart. Here in the dark, we cloister together alone. Still, but not so dank I can't draw breath. Lungs oscillate, let me know time Is eternal. For now, squirm to find dry room in these rags. Squat and blink at satellites searing a velvet vault. Dreams slowly steep the drowsy head, a canvas of unfiltered vision. 10/10/18 rewrite: Blue Quiet Chilled tears cling this dull glass, dark void Illuminating blue light warm, warming smoke inhaled hard burning bright damper open wide, refuge nears, wild the dead of autumn Unclog thick cloistered scales Invisible peel dank with decay Steamy breath surfaces oscillate beautiful fire eternal, here In the dry room blink, satellites near Our velvet vault. Dreams steep drowsy laid a canvas unfiltered Full. |
I'm reminded how impactful one line in a song can be, especially when it reaches out to you as the last crescendo is dying. One song, Queen's 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' comes to mind. "Hit me where the wind blows," comes low and soft, almost inaudibly. I feel poetry can similarly capture that magic. The poem I just penned attempts to encapsulate the purpose and tone of the narration...
I used italic for the final line like Freddie Mercury modulated his voice to inflict feeling to give pause. Happy National Poetry Day |
I discovered in newsfeed from another writer that it's National Poetry Day. Ironically I tweeted something about poetry on Twitter 10 minutes prior to learning this. https://twitter.com/glaedrfly/status/784008521633435648 Since I'm at work with little free time, I am contemplating finding time to challenge myself to write 10 poems today, hoping one will be meaningful. |
Harmonize... I don't know where the lyric should begin Jump right in? Forsake perfection? What if I don't know how The song should end? What if I'm off key? Too many questions from one Whose squandered opportunity I see you turn away I need your eyes I don't know how the lyric should start With you in my heart I want you near I want you to hear Trouble finding this beauty within Is this the day? Are the words I long to speak On the way? As my voice trails off Need to think some more Stall... I don't know why the lyric should end Dreams so close to touch If I could see the stars And me in your misty eyes Are they for me, because I...? Stall... You take your seat I'll stake mine, hold your hand Try to find what's in my heart This very last time. The music rises, curtains up. You can see... He sets the bar too high: |
Attention to punctuation and form later... Your glass top world, My cage, Where I plot my escape To seek immortality Where you hide. I want to be inside. So beautifully made up, Willfully I suspend Disbelief That you won't be with me. I glimpse the reflection In the glass Ugly, attentive viewer, But my eyes Won't lie to myself Anymore The dream is dying. Too old, too worn down To absorb these images Once as beautiful as my own In cracked, fading photographs. You still sing to me. My ears deceive, too. But, I'm learning Experience is about the past There can be no fairytales When beginnings are just endings Of what we seek. It's been so long, I don't know what I seek Anymore? Is it you, or Who I used to be Filled with as yet Unrealized potential? Your glass top reality Could be even more saddening. I don't know why I pine. It may mean I am near The end of my time And we never danced, Truth and immortality. Sing me another song? Shed a tear So I know We share the same vision Together in eternity. We're all alone (together) while dying, amid a sea of unrequited love washing away our memories. |
I'm blessed to be a member of Writing.com and to be able to share my words. This time of year, with the big birthday celebration, there is so much going on. I really want to dive in. But, everytime I get the notion I draw a blank. So much has changed since I started at this website and yet it's the same. So, maybe it's just me. I don't know. I can't bring myself to answer emails on time. I look at events going on but I just don't know what to do. I stopped posting in my notebook. I just don't know what to say. I'm drifting. I think writing is beyond me now. Just want to sit on the front porch rocker, observe some sunrises and sunsets. I yearn for a still day where I can hear my own thoughts and reminisce when I had high hopes. I'll keep checking in. 9.3.16 |