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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/10-28-2022
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(117)
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, slow burnt. Full of misdirects, right back at the start, but still quest with thirst.

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

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

(hic)

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

Neurodivergent poet seeks love without that fart in the room between us. Honesty without mincing words has come with a price for those juggling the hot my takes on what’s ‘truth’ (here’s some oven mitts). Best to stay clear of those surrounded by moat rules.

Real dialogue is accepted.

Wasn’t as open at first about recent diagnosis on spectrum with ADHD (complicated by PTSD, life of brain traumas). Been suggested by doctors of late I might want another brain scan (since 12/4/17…blogged).

This poet’s words collect, arrange on a kaleidoscope spectrum. The experience of discovery through writing is the truest reward that has allowed me to grow and learn who/what I am — what other people get naturally, immediately, while I stomp around in it.

Been blessed, but pushing it — envelope, world and all inhabitants away. Push buttons, find boundaries to trip traps. No clue why cat curiosity, living in your dark. (Bored, perhaps?)

Now and then, push dirt out of this hole; someone/thing/entity might envision me how I need to be viewed (if I knew what that was). Cryptic, yes. Try living in my dark, find comfort amid strange, virtual, wonderful walls that tower above, tempt me to scale.

Been more than I could imagine or expect here. But, achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall *Think*. I dig deeper than I should, often without forethought. Aimless words, brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit targets? Get a ‘back off’ shoulder shot when asking your motivations here. Not fair?

No prize to eye; not incentivized. Dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do best with what’s in hand.



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

It’s like plugging myself, but using other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life"
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 Brian K Cognitive Dissonance


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 ▼
October 28, 2022 at 11:05pm
October 28, 2022 at 11:05pm
#1039882
Unmasked Crusader
         Whose Name I Forget

Did somebody kill your parents, too? Maybe,
you want to get that knee off my neck,
Batman? Who’s the black one here?
Since I’ve known you, your molars grind
like a knife carving rock. Some mistake

your need for justice with desire
for rightful vengeance. Do you know
with who you’re fighting? Green graspers
see your carnal desire. Profile,
fund malice, step away
but don't watch. Here on the cement
lasting nine minutes.

A weaponized human of hate
against society, veils as your killer...
clueless, unable to think for self,
for community. Incentivized, implied
infer what to do, ego emboldened.
Hatred, the gleaming fire, brands.

They glad pat your back in shadow,
toss another biscuit, ring
a Pavlovian bell. Puts me
on flat, hot cement. Can’t compose
thoughts to reason with you...
until they speak
for me
too late.

Not a room full of writers flashing scripts,
or most uncommon composure to express.
A watch smashed into irreversible time.

You have your whole life.
I couldn’t count to ten.
Everything is hindsight,
reaction in retrospect.
Proactive?

We don’t get do overs, only fantasize
what is right and what is wrong.
I watch this heavy scale now compress a planet.

We embellish, don’t we dark crusader?
Another crusade gets rerouted
from a parade path to monuments of justice.

Buried black box,
you in cinder cubicle, soon rubble,
forgotten.

And, now what do you fight? A system
that builds monsters, molded from bullies
sent to their gray rooms with no dessert
for an oops, my bad?

10.28.22
11.1.22


Just re-edited and added to this. It got away from me and became a George Floyd thing. I can relate to injustice and people in shadows pulling strings to get others to act on their behalf for what they call the greater good...all systemic. For not being a pawn, I have to get out of the way now and watch it go down with all the people I love, or could love, if we'd be allowed to unite in peaceful harmony.

As best I can put it, for now.
Can I just say you can get profiled for something other than skin color, sexuality but other unwanted preferences interfering with their society? In fact, be the least patronized now, stock plummeting. Not that I care. It's affecting my offspring. No??
October 28, 2022 at 11:04pm
October 28, 2022 at 11:04pm
#1039881
When You Woke

What’s the point of listening to the whole album?
But we’ve done it --
body gravity-laid,
stereo on dresser,
juddered 50-lb speakers undulating, or
ears sponge-cupped to coiled cord
strung tight across a cabled room.

Three tiny bones accept
waves entering a narrow passageway,
swim a vibrating canal to drum,
undeniable musical messages.

From one side, flipped
and then the other. Repeated.

Why take time to consider every lyric,
every melting melody
on our backs, in recompose?

Empty minds immersed
an hour of scarred vinyl,
diamond pointer plying wave-grooves
gliding a lumpy platter
perfect-playing anthems. Delicious
sounds paired with new ideas,
arriving thoughts.

We compose, carry forward
processed lives pre-recorded,
in old denim profess — called boomers.
Sounding clear as minted silver in lead,
quarter clangs, circles a cylindrical container,
bounced by youth with no skill
for a beer-bath receptacle?

Take a drink runt.
Your memes and 15-second mind candy
will rot your head, kid.
You’re the record they mint now.
You’ve been flipped.

I’ll be on the dark side of the moon
when you woke.


37 lines of free verse

10.28.22
10.29.22 edit, public
11.8.22 edit for proper context and metaphor(s)

on message ▼
October 28, 2022 at 11:03pm
October 28, 2022 at 11:03pm
#1039880
Binge After The Holographic Time Warp

We’ve been racing our vehicles hard
back-and-forth through time
flowing through intersections
missing off-ramps
speeding past posted police.
We worry about being pulled over.
But, the sun starts to rise
and a road ahead gleams brilliant.
We go

faster the better.
And, on these journeys employ
navigational gear
rewritten map heads.
Familiar road signs seen
stops along the way
nostalgic places
consume, refuel.

Places we dream
never match expectation.

Sweet memory
she couldn’t leave a sawmill town
now shut down.
No logs jam a river.
Brakes unemployed
roll past a ghost town
not torn down
but heart drawn shapes
by exes and ohs
eat through thinning paper.

Can I still come to your house?
echoes over wire black
strung overhead.
Loop through

past farm fields
if not inserted strip malls, gas stations
or pearly banks.
So many degrading institutions.
Your heap groans into bends
of roundabouts
merging with semis taking two lanes.

If you double back
through that slip-second portal
wormhole to present
pull into that holographic hole
throw off coat skin
wash hands
ignore potatoes growing tubers in a pantry void
(experimental, hypothetical
not dead yet, but not alive)
that could peel
you order out tonight

again binge.
Pictures so clear
cannot be traded for
fuzzy, particled reception
on the dumpster-tossed
once road-ready
7” television glowing
connected to a 9-volt lighter
outside a cab
underneath that canopy of starlit leaves

with dissatisfaction.

Hi-Def lies the truth about our memories.


10.28.22
I don’t care if it strays from metaphors or fails to illume imagination from inside a bubble-wrapped head.
October 28, 2022 at 8:12pm
October 28, 2022 at 8:12pm
#1039875
Woozy with drug, floating
in a rusted out tub

I don’t seem to drown
The water goes down

a ring around my neck
marks time wasted

in my fiberglass palace
much water displaced

Over time, skin dries
just like gill-slit eyes

marking murky time
in these temporary baths

Pass me another glass
More burgundy to pass


10.28.22

It sounds like you don’t enjoy life, Brian. It is what it is, for the present time. High tide nears…I’ll ride those waves until done.
Whee


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/10-28-2022