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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, a slow burn now. Life is full of misdirects right back to the start, you still quest with a thirst.

If they take time to notice, must be doing something right. Life of turmoil produces stuff like this. Not going to call it beautiful agony…it gets a bit uglier. Minced words too pungent.

scripturam in hoc non mutamus, quia stultus es et differentiam nescies.


The beautiful mess you made.
         |
Without knowledge, who’s to judge?
         |
No gavel; no voice.

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

*Neurodivergent poet.
*I yearn to love without that fart in the room.
*Honesty without mincing words.
*Stay clear of those surrounded by rules.
*Real dialogue accepted.

Diagnosed with new disabilities in 2020: On the spectrum/ADHD (it gets complicated by PTSD and brain trauma). Been suggested by doctors I might want another brain scan. As it is: 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, find boundaries, no clue why, 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 t the next boob that walks by. *Clown*

Been more than I could imagine or expect. My achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall. I dig deeper than I should, push boundaries. Aimless words, brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit targets. Get a ‘back off’ shoulder shot when asking your motivations to write.

No prize to eye; not incentivized. Dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do the best with what you got.



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 ▼
August 23, 2020 at 12:37pm
August 23, 2020 at 12:37pm
#991417
Containers

Sorry I didn’t fit
I wanted to dive within
Snuggle in with someone
Like you

Sorry I’m too big
Or too small to fit
With someone like you
Who has particular tastes

I tried so long to change
Tried to find the rhythm
As I swayed on your floor
Not nimble enough to play

Mom and dad never told me
Anything about my role
If I was the proper shape
To find a place to fit

I rolled through life
Missing and hitting
All the obstacles on the way
Until I fell into you

Wanted to stay

Sorry I wasn’t right
For someone who sees me
The way you do and that would be
How? So, I know what’s true?

These containers I see
The world provides for us
Doesn’t have the right one
For me to crawl deep within

I’m sad that I’m not the fit
For anywhere I roam
That will allow me to be near
Someone like you

I’ll never change again
For someone who needs a fit
Someone in the right container
To hold onto within.

Don’t want to lose myself.

7.19.20
August 23, 2020 at 9:42am
August 23, 2020 at 9:42am
#991400
It's not your fault
I could have been dead on arrival
but I lasted fourteen years, willing
to draw dreams like clouds on your skies.
You never felt obligated to marry my vision
to yours in this strange bedroom I've been given,
my heart monitor slowly beating. Fluids that filled my
empty veins thicken an already dark soul hiding.
It's not your fault I gave up on life before I
arrived at this emergent room for hope.
I could draw these last breaths of
dreams, carried out on gurney,
wheeled down dark halls. No,
it's not your fault

I had a fast car
that I steered into
steel buildings with windows
like a bird purposed to message.
My vision not your own, and
I trust these instruments
drain my life's blood,
words of peace
before I die.
goodbye.


8.23.20
August 23, 2020 at 9:04am
August 23, 2020 at 9:04am
#991397
Trapped in a forest I parachuted in,
a haven to spare me from humanity,
one soul adrenalized learned to defend.
In my hopeful woods I camped to forget,
drew dreams in the sky with eyes that once
could see; visions carved like a fool,
struggle aimless in the dark nights.
Navigating the lay of furry, green land,
I witnessed brilliance in streams and
a renewed face, distorted, ready to believe.
The longer I foraged and trusted this Eden,
I realized a projected fantasy in me,
similar to my visions, a virtual reality. I
hadn't lived, but gave myself to wolves
with schemes to devour my spirit before
my meat. I camp at the river of sorrow,
the edge of tomorrow. I could put one
boot outside these woods and never look back.
I made this strange place my own; but,
I owe something deep within. I owe myself
freedom in true civilization one more chance.


8.23.20

I could pack this with so much more, about a virtual world where I landed seeking rescue, thinking I could find my way through a strangely familiar and comforting land only to realize I had isolated myself from me within the convenience of virtual reality...or something like that.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/8-23-2020