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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/5-16-2020
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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 18 year


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
May 16, 2020 at 2:20pm
May 16, 2020 at 2:20pm
#983730
Until

Is it wrong I want to be left alone until
I don’t want to be left alone until
I’ve had enough of you, go back into hiding until
my heart and head are ready to repeat
the whole charade, the whole masquerade?

I love you dearly, sweetly I do
I love you near me, quietly will do
I love the idea of you until
You open your mouth and formed words
tumble out of that pretty little head

I hold my firm finger to your lips
or kiss them instead
Pressure is best for two locked
in silence, engulfed by passion

I said I loved the idea of you
I spared you my words but gave you
my mouth, exhumed my soul within
Let me have these moments now
to reflect upon you in silence until...


*Smirk*
5.16.20
May 16, 2020 at 12:29pm
May 16, 2020 at 12:29pm
#983718
I know it's beautiful outside
so why isn't it beautiful within
as I'm looking out this window
through your portal, a mirror
reflecting back on me...?

let the honeybee eat cake, eh Marie?
though, you probably didn't say it.
thresh every dandelion and daring
wildflower brightly infecting vision
at the break of Spring, the first Saturday
get your fat ass on the saddle
of that oil-spitting, smoke-spewing
red rider grating silent air-waves

spray the remaining 'noxious' weed
with your molecular destabilizing blasts,
sparing perfect green from invaders,
spare the colony of Arian blades
from the shade of those pesky,
multi-armed giants towering above,
daring compare to, a lush carpet
for tender bare feet so nimble,
dare shadow dutiful tulips arriving,
bordering on perfect, multi-colored
symmetry of pretty maids in a row
that somehow sprung up; despite
the wayward pollen you so desperately
avoid, need collected, inseminate
these things that bring us outdoors.


5.16.20
meh. I will work on later.
May 16, 2020 at 11:10am
May 16, 2020 at 11:10am
#983712
I hope you know darling
I can't be the wild garden butterfly
haphazardly flapping white wings
before your aromatic hyacinth,
lily of the valley bell sprays,
amid spring tulips daring symmetry
and other hand-me-down heirlooms
longing my tender hands weed, divide,
surround your beautiful, wide eyes
envisioning eternal symphony, nearing
like infinity, in an instant taken
by storm, gnawing rodents and bespecked
insects with voracious appetites.

I'll be white-winged wherever you are,
flowing but separating from our past
to move beyond, fading forgotten into
the blue, clouded vault of mystery --
beyond the dust of towering pine
swaying, judging -- and below the ground
with soil ever-loving, always nurturing
our shared desire of blooms sprouting,
and graceful garden butterflies showing.


Coda
The most beautiful melody at memorial
you can't hear is playing in my ears
while we share a bench alone eternally.
You clutch my hand as if knowing my
suffering here in silence on earth,
while we stay together, apart, or in
bed each night as you tenderly clutch
my soul's remains. My eyes are only
for the spinning ceiling fan whooshing away
sounds repeating in my tiresome head,
eroding guilt I cannot fully love you
until I know you celebrate me again.

I've come to realize I broke the vision
you had for me, of a silent knight
long ago, when the white steed suddenly
died at your distressed feet...when
you realized I was now the helpless one,
and you would have to shoulder me
from then and beyond every tomorrow
until I'm ash scattered on breezes
landing me in the hopeful, morning bed
with delightful things I never had eyes
to appreciate, like your longing
for my soul's return to you, darling. *Butterfly2W*



"Dirt Buffet (It Is Your Fault)

Tell me I don't belong among you; give me a real reason and I swear if it's honest, fair and true, I'll go.


© Copyright 2024 He’s Brian K Compton 18 year (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
He’s Brian K Compton 18 year has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/5-16-2020