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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/4-6-2023
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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 6, 2023 at 11:13pm
April 6, 2023 at 11:13pm
#1047702
a revised version already exists in my private collection:
sentience/in/humanity

asomatous and corporeal
within bathroom tile seeped thoughts

a sentient boy writing odes
to the dead, the living, on walls

to any who would hear
one so disconnected and alive

he had to believe, follow passion consciously
but there were detractors:

wolves amid sheep as sheep
who daily fleeced his dreams

faith and trust lost in humanity
in a paneled bedroom walled by his father

insulation, a stereo and headphones
transported a fractured soul floating

toward immortality. Visions in darkest nights
he eventually drifted to sleep by three.

His eyes now open each morning
visualize energy revitalized all around

he just had to close those lids
isolate in his ever wood surround

with towering pine reminders
on a cavern floor, a code for his world

had been without order. Without,
not within. And in nature, dreams

re-inspired all the more. Crackle
fire, wisp camp smoke, stars slot

in a canopy of dead-less night.
Inside his mind amid the world --

a mindful soul balanced, wandering,
no longer retreating from freedom.


4.7.23

a bit sentimental and environmental in the soft head of a soft wood (let there never be another 'software' update

SYNONYMS FOR asomatous (that my "old" computer wants to auto-correct)

nonmaterial
aerial
airy
apparitional
celestial
disembodied
dreamy
ethereal
ghostly
metaphysical
psychic
shadowy
spectral
spiritual
subjective
supernatural
unearthly
unworldly
wraithlike

to name a few that are comparable in this usage
April 6, 2023 at 8:57pm
April 6, 2023 at 8:57pm
#1047691
anxiety

sight fleeting love
sound crashing heart
smell powdery perfume
taste cherry lipstick
touch goosebumps when we first touched

anxiety
trembles leaves in dappled maples
shakes
autumn
branches
rot leaves mulch
under
pine
sleet wets my chilled lips
peels bark
on my childhood tree


15 words
specific place
linking words

shed
backyard butterflies burst like explosions
bread for our conversation
by the bench by the shed
beneath the pine
slender roots grinning

mulberry
by the bush butterflies burst
bread for our conversation
on the bend by the shed
beneath towering pine
grinning shade on slender roots

carport
in the carport they wheeled
spun around in divergent paths
away and toward us
as we smiled at bursts
invisible motion like wind contained

garden
rutabagas clumped in soil spread
tethered in soft spaces
digging holes deep dark
greet the aphids and worms
grin when pulled skyward

Paris
Explosions heard invisible
bursts send bells clang
clunk a clutter of trash
swept like butterflies cartwheeling
through slender whispered conversation

Bakery
slender sagged sough saddened
on sheets shoved in stoves ovens
rags swiped counters tears
explosions of yeast emerge mighty
bread

Ignorant dynamite

there were bells in the explosions
who detonated that beautiful dynamite?
You did, you fool
But I didn't intend to hurt anyone
Then youre as ignorant as you look
I'm the cover of a book and different, don't behave like you
then there is no hope for you
my head blew, gun powder grit lined my molars


Attic
in the attic of life,
a cave
an echo, echoes echoing
off an aging structure
blown in insulation hides asbestos
hides the cancer of memories
spelunking above a two bedroom home
below the roof I helped him replace
when I was twelve
shingles hinge to my brain,
tear, spin, nails loose
walked from the apple tree
the winter snow drifted to its low braches
and i dove and dove and dove
and froze from snow melt
an ice boy who thawed by the tv
with chicken noodle soup
hot chocolate.
April 6, 2023 at 8:19pm
April 6, 2023 at 8:19pm
#1047688
In the attic of sentience,
a cave,
an echo,
echoes echoing,
angling off an aging structure.

Blown in insulation wall
pocketed asbestos --
hidden cancer
of memories spelunked, relived,
regretful adventures
beneath beams
of a two bed home.

Below the roof he sent
stalactite nails through 2x4s --
scarred my wandering head.
I hauled tarred replacements
in brown packages
up aluminum rungs at twelve,
witnessed handiness
as he laid
each one
down.

Shingles hinge to my brain,
tear, spin --
nails loosen where I walked
from access of the wintering apple,
snow drift to lowest limbs.
Clambered over soffits,
gutters, onto a snowy peak
in 30-pounds of gear

and dove and dove and dove.

White-packed boots and sock
froze from melt,
could not numb dumb joy.
An ice boy thawed
by the tv
with her steel
Currier & Ives sleigh theme tray.

Endless canned stock swam
in white glass, a sunny fat broth.
White caps bobbed, capsized
in mugged hot chocolate.
The best sleep, and dreams,
I would ever have.


4.6.23
48 lines, free verse

produced from Zoom writer's group instructional seminar, tonight.

What might seem clear are my sentences. What might not be clear is what those sentences attempt to say. I’m a poet following a trail of breadcrumbs back through life and making assumptions where I was diverted. Not clear how to walk it back. So, I write and write and write like the little boy diving from his roof.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/4-6-2023