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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 ▼
April 22, 2023 at 3:17pm
April 22, 2023 at 3:17pm
#1048617
The widening fontanelle
I cover with a cap
         meager two-ply
for internal workings I expose
publicly
like an animal without clothes
         but wild
hides from potential prey that
doesn’t understand why
not trusted,
without quest for comprehension
(If you could near without ambush),

or,
unclothed because a babe
seen as an aging man
with no decorum to properly attire,
refuses tensile to top a pate
with wire hair graying,
         so the cap —
shadow a thin ghost
shackled to experience and belief
the earth spins backwards
but does not erase
         elapsed time

broken like Pangea
exposed in murky depths
to recall a tender, trusting child
before the first branch fell
fashioned as switch
         yes, tender and exposed
and, life has been like that.

who to trust to the skull?

4.22.23 (edit later)

My nephew who was a ‘specialist’ in Iraq reminds me I have a soft head, indirectly, by covertly showing me his knowledge, not realizing what he doesn’t say speaks louder than words, I’ve observed.

Thanks Tony

Edits to incorporate:

The Fontanelle

The poem "The Fontanelle" presents an intriguing exploration of vulnerability and aging. However, some passages could benefit from clarification to enhance the reader's understanding. Here are suggested edits:

I conceal the widening fontanelle
Beneath a meager two-ply cap,
Revealing my inner workings openly,
Like a vulnerable creature unclothed,
Yet, I remain elusive,
Hiding from potential threats
That fail to comprehend why
I withhold trust,
Without seeking understanding.
(If you could approach without threat),

Unclothed like an infant,
Perceived as an aging man
Lacking the decorum of proper attire,
I resist the tensile embrace of a cap,
My wiry hair graying.
So the cap becomes a shadow,
A fragile specter bound to experience and belief.
The earth may spin in reverse,
But it cannot erase
the passage of time,

Fragmented like Pangea,
Exposed in murky depths,
I reminisce about a tender, trusting child
Before the first branch became a switch,
Yes, tender and exposed.
And life has been like that.

Whom can I trust with the skull?

better title choice depends on central theme or message. a title that reflects vulnerability, aging, and trust, maybe, Fragile Veil or The Unveiled Self.
April 22, 2023 at 2:39pm
April 22, 2023 at 2:39pm
#1048616
(and away from you)

My coffee comes out hot
needs the inspired container not eagerly chugged
cupped in two hands needing warmth
for mindfulness
in an arena sparked by arrival
perfect meditation
when two lips anchor the brim

face steamed
senses sip and savor brown flowage
passing a heart, vital
and the awareness of the vessel’s capacity
proper drainage at opportune intervals
wisdom to ingest
nearing the plumbed depth with just enough draught before
cold

the best moments
perfectly plotted
go as well as you could hope on any given day
make morning memory

I held you
you warmed me
I savored you
intertwining destined, famed,
over, when I pull
the sweetest, last moments flow
through knowing —
you, I could never clutch
contain close to my heart

but for a few patent moments...
life better...remember
honor you this way every morning
until the bottom, up.

4.22.23

We hold on to perfect memory knowing it fades or comes to an end without habitually repeating
It eventually leads to knowing the agony of brevity, how hard savoring the shortness of these love lives
when passion perpetually consumed is not enough, but with mindfulness make the most of it, before honoring what’s dead, long past consumed. Catalysts are bursts, not meant for perpetual motion. It’s what you do after you’ve been given a shove toward a direction - did you plot that course, can you decide where to go? Or do you stand near and igniter hoping it will blow you up? Decide all by aftermath’s fate. I don’t know who decides. If I say more… I have one week and a few days to decide…something
Cryptic, yeah, I know. How dare I be so cloaked and dramatic? I thought the SAME thing…before u. What right do I have to insinuate myself into anyone’s life? I can’t even be a loner on the internet…but at a safe distance.


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