*Magnify*
◄     July     ►
2021
SMTWTFS
    
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
BY ONLINE AUTHORS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/7-18-2021
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
(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 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 ▼
July 18, 2021 at 1:57pm
July 18, 2021 at 1:57pm
#1013879
Flushed

Words circle a drain to drown.
In your bath, I sink,
Stainless.
Perfection washed clean
From hands that toil
For you,
You consume in this bath.

Unworthy,
I watch the tap open
A deluge upon
My head.
Unable to consume what you call
Your love,
I spill down the channel
To a dark dimension,
Space afforded
Fools like me seeking
True divinity
Only to discover
A sewer runs through
My sentences forming words
Of grief.

I am flushed
In your stainless drain, again.


7.13.21
It is what it is 7.18.21

Poets Needed:
"Invalid Item" 
July 18, 2021 at 1:56pm
July 18, 2021 at 1:56pm
#1013878
Consumed, Hopeless

Each retelling better than the next?
You know the feeling but not the words,
as you’re consumed to relate to
a tender mind like yours
who says, I know.

The one you’re with, not on the same page,
shames you like the ignorant,
tells you how to think and not question why
you are trapped in this lovelessness.

Looking for the one, holding on to hope,
straining out the windows of life,
you see scenery so still speed pass,
wondering, is she there under the apple,
beside the dappled mare, riding
the smoker tractor beside an idle farm,
seemingly calling you to breakfast,
but it’s late.

The moon rises. The sun has no time
for this meandering, wandering
that doesn’t visualize purpose,
while your soul, consumed,
settles for zombies
taking the last of your pale flesh.
Don't lay down! Run!

Daydreamers consumed, hopeless.


7.13
7.18.21 not worth improving this


Poets Needed:
"Invalid Item" 
July 18, 2021 at 1:55pm
July 18, 2021 at 1:55pm
#1013877
Yet

Leave her alone, boy. Let her rest.
She's had a long day of cleaning up your mess.
This life she couldn't put straight.
Your brain probably can't contemplate what
she's gone through since she
first laid eyes upon you, a bastard produced
from a loveless marriage. The fights,
her wails echo still inside your walls.
You're too ignorant to notice.

My anguish not yours to inhale.
Leave it alone. Go back to bed.
She's badly bruised, but not bleeding,
Yet.

7.13
7.18.21

Written during Long Hall, purely conceptual about the different parts of a schizophrenic brain negotiating with itself not to panic after self-abuse. And, I'm fine, too, if you're wondering (narrator speaking).
July 18, 2021 at 1:52pm
July 18, 2021 at 1:52pm
#1013876
Speaking To The Lonely Strippers

Why unburden your soul
To the damaged stripper
Holding the pole in thong,
Bedazzled by sweaty glitter,
Nipples bared, blush-red,
When you don't see her broken heart,
Masked in its agony of sweet grinding
In the room,
On the chair,
Over your pressed pants
To rhythms thick with bass,
Produced by empty minds
Earning their own bottom dollars, while
Masturbating regurgitated words
To a lonely, uglier audience deprived
Of sex, of love, just
Like you, lifelong?
You could at least tip more
than the recommended gratuity.


7.13.21
7.18.21 final edits
19 lines, freeverse

I used to lust. Now, I want to hug them all. Speaking to myself as the party of the first part. Just think inner dialogue.
July 18, 2021 at 1:51pm
July 18, 2021 at 1:51pm
#1013875
The Bath Again

Another day with back pain,
no medication
But sweet Rum that/which
Can temporarily touch/reach
Up to my neck in this
Boiling bath --
An organic mix bubbling with stale
Flesh and a mind's persistence, nurture
These aimless words, a blend
Of grief and bliss, while
An ever vigilant brain, vexed
Tries remedy but can only reminisce
When we were whole.

This was my universe.
My planets aligned around
A holy, loving, warming,
Fiery body gleaming
In the morning, fading, tagging off
With a white moon rising,
Checking in on me,
I could feel luminescence
On my face, soul --
Permeated, adjusted as
We all rotated together

I'm in my bath again.
It's welcoming,
Not reassuring enough,
Just yet.


7.13.21
7.18.21 edit more or abandon?
Autobiographical
July 18, 2021 at 1:44pm
July 18, 2021 at 1:44pm
#1013874
Until Then, For Your Love

You held all the love, all
The offerings of
A lonely boy,
Eyes fixed on
Your every movement until
You could feel the weight
Of my gifts
In your accepting arms
Weakening like your smile that
I see falter
Like the light in your eyes that
I see dim
A gaze tightens, forms lines
Around your mouth, below
I see form upon
Your exposed hairline

I speak
But your mute button pressed
view you scan the channels
In the sky
For another
For forgiveness
For tempting a young boy, needy
For your acceptance,
For your commitment
For your unconditional love

I can wear out a welcome quick
I can wear on a soul
I can wear you down
I can wear this heart on my sleeve
Until then.

7.13
7.18.21

More edits coming. Stalker-y.
July 18, 2021 at 1:23pm
July 18, 2021 at 1:23pm
#1013866
We listen to him personify whiskers on his face,
narrating how they escaped the razor.

Wily, spry, gray rebels sprung free, sproing!
from the shadowed, pale patches
in unchartered regions 'neath
his chin and cheek that mock
a groggy, wrinkled face, before
black brows muscle up on his forehead,

when he's stopped, reminded
again, that it’s Sunday and
he is not yet dressed for church,
if he's going. And so,

his shadow darkens the hall
back to the bedroom
to start the morning over
again. He
rolls open the top dresser drawer.
Two black socks peer back at him.
Are we going to play?


7.18.21
19 lines, freeverse

Something I made up today from the poem open about my personifying and narrating that can both amuse and annoy, though mostly the latter, if you ask them.


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

Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/7-18-2021