*Magnify*
◄     January     ►
2022
SMTWTFS
      
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
BY ONLINE AUTHORS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/1-27-2022
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
(116)
Rated: 18+ · Book · Spiritual · #1149750
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
I’m disabled by more than blindness.

Writing: Like one of those adventure games where you go off questing in different directions but you don’t advance in life. Pretty medallions sought for words/my soul, a slow burn now. Life is full of misdirects right back to the start, you still quest with a thirst.

If they take time to notice, must be doing something right. Life of turmoil produces stuff like this. Not going to call it beautiful agony…it gets a bit uglier. Minced words too pungent.

scripturam in hoc non mutamus, quia stultus es et differentiam nescies.

hic honor, quem accepistis, non est operae pretium, sicut non est bonum.
*BigSmile*
si hoc legere potes, gratiarum actio pro tempore.

The beautiful mess you made.
         |
Without knowledge, who’s to judge?
         |
No gavel; no voice.

I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost
         |
I'm sorry you got caught in the middle. - me

*Neurodivergent poet.
*I yearn to love without that fart in the room.
*Honesty without mincing words.
*Stay clear of those surrounded by rules.
*Real dialogue accepted.

Diagnosed with new disabilities in 2020: On the spectrum/ADHD (it gets complicated by PTSD and brain trauma). Been suggested by doctors I might want another brain scan. As it is: My words collect, arrange on a kaleidoscope spectrum. The true experience/acknowledgment of my writing yet to come...long after I’ve left WDC, am dead, or both?

Truly been a blessing, but I've been pushing it — envelope, push world and all inhabitants away, push buttons, find boundaries, no clue why, where I've lived in your dark. Now and then, push dirt out of this hole; someone/thing/entity might envision me the way I need to be viewed (if I knew what that was. Cryptic, I know. Try living in my dark, find comfort amid the strange, virtual walls that tempt me to try).
*The parenthetical ‘lawyer up’?



Foot free, I’m all over the place.
 
"Note: Poetry: life’s little interruptions amassing int..."
 

Best Poetry Collection 2X, nominated three years. What does it mean? I was enjoying myself, head bagged. A happy idiot. Something messed with that. I won’t be a coward; not starting feuds or wars over ideals and beliefs. We all know that’s a pile of crap packaged with dreams of pretty things to sell t the next boob that walks by. *Clown*

Been more than I could imagine or expect. My achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall. I dig deeper than I should, push boundaries. Aimless words, brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit targets. Get a ‘back off’ shoulder shot when asking your motivations to write.

No prize to eye; not incentivized. Dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do the best with what you got.



My Pluggers:
You are an icon here.*BigSmile*
You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.{/blue}*Heart*

It’s like plugging myself, but using other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "Epigram ‘n Aphorism Samwiches"
Your poetic muse is on fire! *Fire* Some great emotion, well-balance(d), lovely lyrical qualities -- even the ones that were written out of sadness or anger came through in a clever cadence…It's obvious you've put a lot of work into each entry and the totality of the blog has eye appeal. *Cool*

 
Published four times with one a literary journal, including… *PointRight*   "The Tender Core (Sedona)" 
I don’t submit because it’s too much work. Truly alone, know no one cares to show they believe/support me. Lip service feeds delusion. I’ve seen a lot of smoldering and snow. Try not be cynical, work hard at openness and consideration — work, sooo…gut thing.

*Toilet* *RibbonW* Merit Badge in Taboo Words [Click For More Info] Brian, Congratulations! You won 1st Place in Taboo Words with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1027659]. I absolutely loved this! *^*Heart*^* Rachel Merit Badge in Poetry [Click For More Info] Thanks you for supporting the [Link To Item #power] with an order to the [Link To Item #powergifts] ! We appreciate it. *^*Heartv*^* Keep writing the beautiful poetry. [Link to Book Entry #1027659] is an awesome poem! *^*Starv*^* ~Lornda

 
Love my process constructing and sharing visions in words collected (no small task considering personal and physical limitations, see below).


August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼

BOOK
SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days  (18+)
All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know.
#1300042 by I Don’t Like My Name


No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼

 
What I used to say: 'Maybe, I just don't get it. Watch me fumble with my version of reality, expose ignorance as truth. You don't have to get me, either. But, wish someone would explain me to myself.' Now I say: *Cool* *FacePalm* Now: I was such a whore.
 


*Laugh*This is old….
What? Oh, this? A rhetorical, self-motivational speech I'm working on.
Don't just read the parts to construct your theory, as if to confirm (construed out of context) your opinion, mentally-stunted Neanderthal. Therapist wants me to be less negative toward myself. I see it as attacking, rather than being defensive. Fear I will chomp too many bullets unintentionally sent toward the unsuspecting.
If you can be triggered for stupid reasons, then I?
…just looked like me rolling around on the floor with myself.*RollEyes*
             



What Was NEW

Who am I, you ask? My mirror knows that question, repeated daily.

Just trying to create a little buzz, not boost my ego.

#amwriting #poetry #blog #contest #freeverse #award #bestpoetry #freyaridings #lyrics #music #video #YouTube

Can you believe it took this long for someone to put a quarter in me and push the button GET ANGRY?
 

Mud 4 My Eye: Is that you, Poo? 💩 Secret Back Door ▼

The Best Poetry Collection on Writing.Com ▼
January 27, 2022 at 9:31pm
January 27, 2022 at 9:31pm
#1025514
Awake and snoring
Every word boring, I know.
Blathering, is that me
Or the television quaking
Disaster after catastrophe?

Should I get up,
Put pants on for you, at my door
Uninvited?
And now who's the bore?
Uncouth, trouserless,
Have I brushed my teeth, my hair
To welcome you near?

La, la, la, la
Lah-lah
Blah, blah, blaw, bla...
Better get up, get to bed.
I have an appointment with death.
The borrowed become cliche.

1/27/22
Five minute write to another, nameless song, artist
January 27, 2022 at 9:19pm
January 27, 2022 at 9:19pm
#1025512
Sound reflects
Echoes in the learned soul.
Feelings long ago lost
Reanimated, pleasantly replayed.
Thank you yesterday.
Born again to
A parentless nucleus,
A lone atom hums
Looking for further proof
I once existed
In another body,
Bonded by a bed,
Reverberating generational.

Nothing
To clasp with
Two empty, withering hands.
Purpose?
Reason to write?
Send electronic notes
To the void
I call my universe?
Lay in my crib,
Close ailing eyes
Begging,
Dream another day?


Written to Glass Animals 'Gooey'
Finished by song's end.
Dare edit later?

Who dares disturb this groove...?
Oh.
January 27, 2022 at 9:07pm
January 27, 2022 at 9:07pm
#1025510
It's cement
Cast and anchored
Over my head
Forever or until
A planet squashed
By a big boomerang
Snap back
Crush these bones
In an instant
As I clutch you
In frames adorning
A vision
I cannot reanimate
But in dreams
And who needs
The 'what ifs' anyways
Turned sideways
To the carpet
Then down deeper
Digging my hole
Before the boomerang.

1.27.22


Written in the time it took Fisher to sing, "I Will Live You"

You won't know where to pause
Unless I edit
But then
It wouldn't be the same
Would it?
January 27, 2022 at 9:08am
January 27, 2022 at 9:08am
#1025475
Pot Of Hope

I know we're supposed to whisper -- but
we left him
in the hall.
why spend $9.95 to have him when
we don't think of him at all.

Midday,
lone shaft of light angles
to reach
over the rail into the corner where
he lays alone,
you on the phone,
me in my mind
wandering to and from this place.

He could be be so pale,
no love
but neglect of a dream of ownership,
the promise
in a bucket with a brilliant,
little sticker adorning
his crib,
now coffin,
in this less cozy, little home.

Did my dream become his,
to produce and reproduce,
give love we had,
serve a couple in need of
a little more ambience,
like potpourri burning
nasal passages to connected brain,
no memory
just credit to buy
an affordable, middle class
pot of hope?

Death was long before
adoption, a struggle
for light, and taste for
a drop of tap water
in nutrient-rich
dirt -- lifelong nap,
not a rare colored iris
will wink awake
in the dead of these nights.


1.27.22

I think we're all destined to dream of something unrealistic for just $9.95, today... delusionally waste time, invoke it into mind-f'd reality.

A little dream of ownership with no skills to cultivate life.

It sounds harsh: but, fuck everybody for imposing their reality into mine... especially, the ignorant sentimental fools who are not awake tonight. (Sad I must disclaimer: metaphorically, not literally...if you even know the difference from...nevermind. Point made?)


© Copyright 2024 I Don’t Like My Name (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
I Don’t Like My Name has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/1-27-2022