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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/10-6-2020
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Spiritual · #1149750
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
Like one of those adventure games where you go off questing in different directions but you don’t advance like the others. You earn pretty medallions gallantly while other players buy, sell and trade at market to get ahead without moving an inch. Slow burn…hey? You’d rather keep your dignity, or try to figure out their game. That’s where you really get lost. Game full of misdirects leads right back to start over and over. You could have stayed on your quest. Now, you have this.

Redacted, censored, gaslighted…must be doing something right, my old boss would say. I’m not a sociopath, he tells himself. Equal parts, then? Mom should have had me tested. Because, life of turmoil produces stuff like this. Not going to call it beautiful agony…it gets a bit ugly.Tap on them. It’s part of the quest…see where I’ve been; see who I am:


         
                   
                                       
                   
                   
        
         


Right. I redact myself. The beautiful mess you made. Who are you?
If I’ve been denied the right of knowledge, I’ve earned the right to judge.
         |
Without knowledge, who’s to judge?
         |
No gavel; no voice.

"...politely reedy but ambitiously eclectic—moving effortlessly from hen-picking and bottleneck slides to a full deck of chucka-chucka rhythm figures."

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

*Neurodivergent poet.
*Don’t judge/hate. I love.
*Honesty without mincing words.
*Dump your prejudice outside my door. Hope you leave it on the way out.
*Nothing to fear but people who surround themselves with rules, can’t be touched.
*Real dialogue accepted.

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 to find boundaries, having no clue or told where they lie, 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 the next boob that walks by. *Clown*

Been more than I could imagine or expect. My achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall. But, I get it. You're sick of me. It's how I feel about myself when I dig deeper, push boundaries. Don’t care my words that aim for honesty, either brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit a target. Get a back off shoulder shot for asking your motivations to write…won’t get me to bend over backwards to appease, again.

There’s no prize to eye, not properly incentivized. So, does it mean when dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do the best with what you got? Yeah, rigged. Yeah, other tables — other ‘games’. But, something in my gut I’ll never be rid.



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 "Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋"
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 He’s Brian K Compton


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 6, 2020 at 9:44pm
October 6, 2020 at 9:44pm
#995217
i fired my brain bullets
at her fleeting shadow
cast across the wall
that once towered
shaded me
where i dared stand in a bright field
that i might
absorb rays
i fired blanks in those days
at stationary targets
laughing
ridiculing
admonishing one
so foolish as to believe
i could play tag beneath the willows
chase them until dark
into the alleys
street
by strange houses
where neighbors rolled out
told me to go home
i stood in my front yard
and waited for their cheery faces
i went to their fields
the woods
into the dark places
my mind would roam
until i arrived home
and looked at the clock
tock
tock
tock
and knew i was out of sorts
i fired those brain bullets
silent
hard
into a brick wall
i'll never really know
if i hit my target
but i'll lay in the tall
yellow grass alone for awhile
and hope the sun
will warm me when i wake
tomorrow


10.5.20

you want to know if i feel guilty?
the one who would be at the bottom of a well shouting for help?
who with guile crawled out, got topside?
you want to know if i still feel worth?

if it's not a well, it's the bottom of a barrel
no thanks. i'll take the sun.

Reminds me of a scene from Community (NOT that show again!?)
Bitter much?
Response:
Bitter much, much??


Another line from Community (with parody of some movie, I'm sure):

We're losing him!

Just think darkest timeline
October 6, 2020 at 6:09pm
October 6, 2020 at 6:09pm
#995204
when does it end?
the self-affirmations to the mirror
with just the right amount of lighting
that I'm still pretty
enough
for someone to what?
love?
respect?
stick up for me when down,
don't feel the love of self?
that once revealed as arrogant bravado
only masking insecurity laid upon me
from a man more ignorant and shaming?

You know you can rise above that?
You can break that mirror
that informs you to shame yourself
even while ageism still exists?

So, you dim the light a little more,
throw on a ball cap.
You eat right, still exercise
and boast, though
you know...
yes, feel that the indifferent eyes
aren't the same eyes
that once followed you
as your roamed, as you dressed
to impress, styled
and coyly smiled
for their appreciation.

You don't hold their eyes
in your eyes
in that mirror.
You hold your father's eyes
in your memory.

Tell yourself you're still beautiful...
uh-uh, no looking.


10.5.20


Echoes of that Christina song...
October 6, 2020 at 2:28pm
October 6, 2020 at 2:28pm
#995188
What I Stew About

She thanked me for the stew
she made
because I provided the meat,
potatoes, carrots and seasoning
she combined --
meat seared,
potatoes and carrots boiled
in separate pots,
combined together in the blue
roasting pan she placed
in the oven.
At 350 degrees, waited,
then removed the lid,
because of the special gravy
she created from
ingredients I bought
(per her instruction)
from the grocer.

The stew thickened
with the sauce,
and she said, ‘Thank you’?
for her stew? So,
I thought:

Would an astronaut
thank the government
for procuring the parts
to build the rocket
that launched them into
orbit, after they put their lives
in the hands of
scientists and specially trained
technicians who built a dream
from special ingredients?
tried and tested
with expert knowledge
to fly a craft directly at stars?
navigate space beyond,
outside our planet and arrive
at a floating construct,
gravitationally obedient,
space station to dock,
to remain as trusted scientists?
Waiting for another mission,
billions invested in outcome
of precision technology,
successfully launch and arrive
to relieve and retrieve them
for another presumed
successful mission home?
to a planet that could
suddenly and immediately
collapse from something bigger --
economic devastation to
an eradicating world virus,
stranding them in wondrous
space, aboard a silent craft
destined for nothing
but an eternal, cold walk?

Say thank you to a government
that would recruit you,
train you and trust them
with your care?

Yes.

You’re welcome, and thank you
for your sacrifice
to prepare US supper.


10.6.20

To my nominators: This is a long, free verse (unstructured) poem (66 lines).
-Stew
*Laugh*
Thank You to my MIL for this poem.
Some one wrote 'You are loved' once in my notebook and I launched a similar reverie:
STATIC
Efflorescence Song  (E)
A higher love exists when you're alone amid nature.
#2085912 by He’s Brian K Compton


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/10-6-2020