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 |    13.1k views, 2xBest Poetry Period. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind. |
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...white-hot coruscating genius that more than once dipped its proverbial toes in the obscure. https://ew.com/recap/community-season-3-episode-16-inception/ T̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ Ab̴̦̄̈͐̾̑̚͝s̸͉̻̃͘ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̰̅ͅcě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ o̷͍̥̣̺͋f̶̭̱̘͇͊͋̾̋̄͆ Wa̴͙͓̓̕vě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆l̵̩̘̯̪͋͒͒̉͒̄ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̅ͅg̸̫͙̻̭͐͝ț̴̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹̈́͌͆̑͋͂̅͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ You get hungry as a seldom published author/poet/lyricist, so quit pedaling words and just enjoy the writing process. The bullshit ‘process’ of submitting is submission. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My  goes through — R S = 2 G M c 2  ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~   ————————- .How I see myself create…in the zone Curry Flurry: ▼ Writing ▼ The beautiful mess made: I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost | I'm sorry you got caught in the middle. - me Neurodivergent poet ▼ Best Poetry Collection ▼ Been more than I could imagine or expect here. Why Mail It In? In Latin ▼ Pluggers: You are an icon here.  You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.  And other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "The Absence of Wavelength"  Your poetic muse is on 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.  Published four times with one a literary journal, including…  "The Tender Core (Sedona)"  I don’t submit—too much work with ADHD, OCD, low vision in condensate in mental prison of failing memory. I’ve seen a lot of smoldering and snow. Cynicism bred, work hard at openness and consideration. ![Merit Badge in Taboo Words
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Brian,
Congratulations! You won 1st Place in Taboo Words with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1027659].
I absolutely loved this! *^*Heart*^*
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Taboo_Words-2139481_13.gif) ![Merit Badge in Poetry
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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](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Poetry-2180.gif)  I'm Godzilla ▼ August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼
No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼  Now: I was such a whore.   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 #lyrics #music #video #YouTube #awardwinning 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 ▼ |
| What can I prove here more than the words I share in this internet village? It's an unknowable game of push and pull, where I find I could be an element within certain neighborhoods. The words are cheery, greetings sincere. What is missing makes me feel like a wallflower at the dance, the kid who wasn't recruited to play on that team, the child who grew up and saw his little brother get all the women's attention? A life of mental conditioning and responses of distrust brought me along. I don't need my cheeks pinched, better than most athletes I could dance circles around ladies manhandled across this floor -- the great divide. So, I journey about. Let me sit on the tallest hill and gaze upon the scene, pen my words into unseen pages under protective trees and my competent voice will echo songs down the valley that one might hear and join for awhile. The dream is being found...where you are. The vision is not selling short and yearn love unconditional. The hope is learn from the past to be a better person who loves oneself foremost...no worries, no regrets. This quest never truly sought be alone. The time is nearing on this quiet summit -- a feint heart undisturbed can rest. The sun will ply pleasant-smelling boughs to renew my heart daily. The moon will return to charm pale blue eyes that once did gleam...for all-of-you. If I didn't give back enough, I could recline 19 more years -- linger in the memories of ignorance corrupting innocence and wish I could see her fresh, full face one more time and kiss deeply, full on tender lips. I'll never grow old if I hide. I can only die, when you accept me. All I really want is something beautiful to say To never fade away, I wanna live forever! |
| With all good writing, there are many things we would rather not say but leave to the reader's imagination. Poetry is like interpretive dance. How does it make you feel, make you imagine? Good, bad, we move on from it. Do we go back to it, begs the poet? To quantify words takes skill or simple experience. The more we read and write, the process cultivates those keen eyes for the right text. I'm not a master of writing. I obsess with words, the language, especially since 2006. Readers forced me to wrestle with myself, my words, get to the point. So, here it is. My attempt at a poem with challenge to readers to see if we are on the same page. An attempt to show this community what is part Me and part you...what I've learned here should reflect strongly in what I display in ALL MY WRITING: The poem:
Interpretation: (What you should know -- I have all kinds of avenues to chase down when I start something. Just the title alone made me think of all the directions I wanted to take. I had a feeling in my gut, because my motor was revving. When I feel good and want to express, I trust wherever this thing is going. I'm part navigator, driver and the person in the back seat experiencing the ride. Each voice in my head uses experience to help us get there.) I like the comments people shared. It even got scholarly. Rather than response to reviews, I waited for the responses, the second look-sees. Now I reveal -- I can make Interpretation succinct. Life is a fast ride. Be prepared. It will give you feelings of false hope. 'Eyes that gleam'...we see possibilities. Ghosts are self-doubt and haunting reminders of what we could have been...hence dull eyes, numbing ourselves to avoid regret. 'Over all shoulders' is the past, history and indicates 'since the beginning of time' like our forefathers who came over whatever ocean with a dream but failed: 'drown on dry land'...irony. But: 'backs to the future' ...we ignore the past. We are stubborn. We insulate, winter ourselves (so to speak). 'Silver dreams' ...someone else's visions to get us through these hard times (movies, streaming services  ). 'Dreamt for us'...selling us fantasies we could not acquire ourselves.The last stanza is about what we leave behind. It's the saddest. We are dying. Our planet, in fact. Autumn is no longer about promise of renewal, but marking time. All the tomorrows forgotten: end of time. And, we (more notably, this author) dread rather than live like we are dying -- so, it is individualist and globalist in each sense. Side 2: (I had this written out by hand after reading last review of Through Your Hair. Flipping over note now.) We can be the biggest obstacles to our own fate if we are not equipped to be a part of this world (so much of that statement applies to my foray in the Internet realms). And, even if we did play our cards right, is it satisfying to play systematically, rather than just live and experience and let all the joys and sorrows move through us without keeping score? Okay, last statement might not be a defense of poem. I'll reread 'Through Your Hair' one more time...BRB... Oh, yeah. I had a crib note stuck into there under HIDE: "Essentially, the history of the world and human kind's persistence in it. Our purpose is to live, die and give to future generations. Circle of life stuff. But, what we truly impose on earth is only death. It questions our purpose, spreading from continent to continent and then the world succumbs to our ultimate overpopulation. So, death. Imagery implies most. I just forgot all elements of what I meant as I wrote like what over our shoulders meant other than leaving behind other worlds, lives, turning our back on history while forging ahead, crossing Atlantic to America." Maybe, more global than individual? It is possible to not be the master of what you write? Maybe, there is some truth to these muses beyond a whimsical nature that overtakes the soul of a writer. Hey, don't blame me! *points at winged muses* I've come to appreciate your input of my writing. I owe a lot of my growth with poetry here to your input. Signed, ly |
Sometimes, I want to give away (to the potential reader) too much. But you have to sing that song in your heart, no matter how awkward. Some might like it, others might hate it. Mostly, it's no response and you move on -- to another beat, the next rhythm that spins your heart to dance...chance it. Sometimes, its serendipity that reminds us our language can be decoded. We don't want to tell too much because the intensity of what you feel lies hidden in the words you chose. I responded to this note I happened upon in newsfeed: "Note: Maybe the trees will take us for granted. Maybe t..." Maybe the trees will take us for granted. Maybe they already have. Maybe we will grow up to do the same, you and I. Or maybe we will dive into the lake, together, and never come up. Maybe the summer will forget our names. Maybe it already has. Maybe we will lose ourselves in the fall and do the same, you and I. Or maybe we will splinter across the canyon, together, and become a fine dust. I already blame the Staghorn Cholla. I already blame the wild Vesper Sparrows. The saints of Phoenix have come here calling for us again. I am radiant with things I will never understand, and you, you are charged with the same. We are always, and always the same, you and I. We are drawing now nearer to the edge of the forest. Maybe the wolves will forget what they have seen here. Or maybe they will use it against us. Maybe we will return with our weapons, together, and do the same, you and I. Maybe we will become the bullets that splinter apart their bones in the names of men. WE WILL REMOVE THE ONCE SHARP TEETH, YOU AND I, AND LEAVE OUR FORMER NAMES AS VESTIGES IN THEIR PLACE. Clouds, was what I imagined -- clouds personified. It doesn't have to be what the poet intended when you read. What did you see or feel when you invested your mind in consuming the poet's offering? His experience shared becomes the experience others may have had or Unknowingly processing. Passion-driven writing, no matter how controversial, doesn't feel wrong because you are not telling people what to feel. Again, they will like it, hate it or leave it. Just have to be true to yourself. We are shaped by those interactions, but the passion/message will survive and eventually find those faces that know your true heart. Your growth comes from preserverence. You learn as you teach along the way. "Moon In October 🌕"  |
Hold on to your hats or Stetsons... Only villains monologue (too long) before they're caught, destroyed by they're own vanity -- fiction, cliche devices to accentuate the 'good' (otherwise boring characters) before we, the ignorant masses who eventually get trapped in this (our) shared reality, realize the true deceptive: white and black are not primary colors. |
My interest in math is from a purely actuarial perspective. What makes no sense is how words are valued -- too broadly interpreted by people not qualified to quantify. Poetry should be a stream of consciousness. Stay connected with the integral subject, theme, inspiration. The moment you stop, lay down the metaphorical pen, life moves forward without those thoughts yearning discovery in context and subtext. Each branch produces fruit. A dance with a caliopy of words that when stopped no longer produce music. If you try to pick up again, what beat, what rhythm? Can it be reproduced or seem futile effort, chasing ghosts of memories as fleeting as time escaping us. My brain is always processing and wants to spit out what it’s computing before the results are in. Poetry was made for me because I only manage hide behind expressions rather than tell you how I feel, fearing the pained expressions. I’m connected and wish for a circuit to complete with you, so words would more pleasingly form in this addled head. Saving people who don’t know they need saving is risky business. People draw conclusions without hard evidence - assumptions are circumstantial filler that support a theory or bias toward proving their end result. They are guessers, usually not high stakes. But it can lead to anything from character assassination to creating urban legend. It becomes misinformation. Our minds cannot sort something without putting a definitive label on it. More irresponsible is not to ask questions and/or covertly investigate (again) to support transparent hypotheses to justify our egos. |
| Typos and all until I feel like editing this confession. Get your screen captures now. Should know by now rubbing stuff in my face empowers me. (Should subtitle 'How You Make Your Villains.') Concussed, head traumas, abused, bullied, ridiculed, beaten up to cite a few because I was different. Dad didn't understand me, mom pitied me, oldest brother tormented me, youngest constantly got me in trouble. I became defiant, never backed down; though I became shy and afraid of confronting issues. So, when I made mistakes, I lied and covered up. Few liked me because I started to hate myself because I couldn't connect with people on a human, emotional level. I spoke with little inflection, monotone to avoid being noticed. What made it more complex than easier was blossoming into an attractive young male. I masked fears and anxiety with false bravado and vanity. At least I learned to love myself by realizing what I could see in the mirror. By working my sculpted body into a coveted specimen. Unfortunately, that would be about all I had going for me from 18-26. Now,, I'm just a villain. It's the easiest personna to uphold. My family disrespects me. Won't accept excuses of lifelong trauma. I don't want to viewed with contempt, though. But, by getting everyone to hate or become indifferent towards me, I can be assured of outcomes. It's better than have people turn on me because they don't understand or see eye to eye and would rather demonize one who started out a sweet, innocent soul that became callous and hard so no one could penetrate his armor. No trust, prepared to circumvent any manipulator who comes my way. Tired of being a chump, left out, unworthy unless I decide -- be alone. I have no one to truly confide in. I just write to get it all. No pity please. There's only one person left on this planet who got me and she won't reciprocate my attempts at communication. Out ** Image ID #1177947 Unavailable ** ** Image ID #1164895 Unavailable ** ** Image ID #1278143 Unavailable ** |
| Now something by someone else: The Stones by Richard Shelton I love to go out on summer nights and watch the stones grow. I think they grow better here in the desert, where it is warm and dry, than almost anywhere. Or perhaps it is only that the young ones are more active here. Young stones tend to move about more than their elders consider good for them. Most young stones have a secret desire which their parents had before them but have forgotten ages ago. And because this desire involves water, it is never mentioned. The older stones disapprove of water and say, "Water is a gadfly who never stays in one place long enough to learn anything." But the young stones try to work themselves into a position, slowly and without their elders noticing it, in which a sizable stream of water during a summer storm might catch them broadside and unknowing, so to speak, push them along over a slope or down an arroyo. In spite of the danger this involves, they want to travel and see something of the world and settle in a new place, far from home, where they can raise their own dynasties, away from the domination of their parents. And although family ties are very strong among stones, many have succeeded; and they carry scars to prove to their children that they once went on a journey, helter-skelter and high water, and traveled perhaps fifteen feet, an incredible distance. As they grow older, they cease to brag about such clandestine adventures. It is true that old stones get to be very conservative. They consider all movement either dangerous or downright sinful. They remain comfortably where they are and often get fat. Fatness, as a matter of fact, is a mark of distinction. And on summer nights, after the young stones are asleep, the elders turn to a serious and frightening subject -- the moon. which is always spoken of in whispers. "see how it glows and whips across the sky, always changing its shape," one says. And another says, "Feel how it pulls at us, urging us to follow." And a third whispers, "It is a stone gone mad." http://www.hanksville.org/voyage/desert/Desert4.html My poetry tries to hint at underlying meaning, quite often. For some it's plain easy to interpret the symbolism. Others take the words at face value. Writing that is rich begs you go beneath the surface to explore, feel. |
| Big picture. Small world. Coincide or co-exist? You might not follow, but use your imagination...plenty of that renewable resource: In this life, we are dealing with real mysteries. We are not trying to figure out if free will or atoms exist...science fiction to commoners without Einsteinian awakenings. We just want to know what to do with ourselves. It should not be to crush candy or be mesmerized by a YouTube video or some life changing meme...for the few minutes. Our time has been compartmentalized rather than compelled to linear wayward time travel. We are not meant to have an impact on this world. We are meant to be consumers of the giants who manage to take control of our world until we die. We cannot unify against the forces that compel us to do their bidding. We are ungrateful curs if we don't acclimate ourselves to the mental mantra meant to lead us into war or consumerism. As one cannot cram the whole world's existence (let alone entire universe) in one blog entry, I leave pinholes of light to allow your eye follow out and seek truth. Not wormholes and other dimensions that we cannot know exist. Yes, that sounds exciting but more than we have the ability to truly take on. We have to think of the immortal words of Prince, we 'just need to get through this thing called life.' And that's a mighty long time. For him 57 years? I'm 58 and feeling every bit as vulnerable to all that preys and the predators in wait. They will not allow free will, let alone dine too long on its buffet. After the hand slap, fingers point to the exit. I ignore them, move about the room. Still no freedom, plenty of escapes. I have been distracted too long. No nuggets, no kernels of truth. It might be right under our noses in a life full of misdirect. We are all too smart to be babies in diapers we can't change ourselves. We leave so much to others, it's a wonder how anything functions, still exists. Machines? Robot nannies? Big brother exists?? Whaaaat? We are on automatic pilot. We have become complacent. Our discourse over social media is hardly social and unacceptable in terms of dialoguing. It's a disconnect. When we want our news now, can we talk to the anchors live and set the stories straight? No. Information is a one way feeding tube. We are not so much lied to as we are denied the true headlines, the most important facts in these stories. We all die before full actualization. How do you think rumors got around about how Albert felt in his dying, yearning last moments? The story ends without us, begins anew with another innocent. 'A sucker born every minute.' Time will not stop in our lifetime. It renews with each purpose to deny us truth. What is real is income to pay for the things we are lead to believe we need and go to things we should not consort with. If the world had a garage sale, we'd line up to look. It would leave us going home empty handed. It has no bargains, nothing we want. We are fine with what we already have...and yet? What we don't know won't hurt us. I'd just like to meet our real parents...scarier than science fiction. --signed, anonymous From the soon to be unwritten memoir: Allegories and Fables Not Meant to Be Your Parables If there were any hint of truth, death. Just meanderings of person bored enough to attempt seek life outside this common utopian existence. |
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— 21
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— 29![Merit Badge in Shadows and Light
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A huge congratulations, to you!
You have won a very deserved Honourable Mention in [Link To Item #shadows] , round 112 *^*Smile*^*
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Shadows_and_Light-1936078_14.gif)
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Brian,
Congratulations! You won 1st Place in [Link To Item #shadows] with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1037176]. Fabulous writing!
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Shadows_=38_Light_II-1936078_14.gif)
— 9
MAY 
37![Merit Badge in Coffee Award
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Congratulations on placing 2nd in [Link To Item #2182602] with your poem, [Link to Book Entry #1031722]. *^*Coffeeo*^* Kindest Regards, Lilli](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Coffee_Award-2149524_14.gif)
APRIL 
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Congratulations on the third place win at [Link To Item #hpc] for your poem: [Link to Book Entry #1030482]. Thanks for making me laugh, and keep writing the funny stuff! *^*Bigsmile*^* ~Lornda A.K.A. The Queen of Comedy *^*Crown*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Humorous_Poetry_Contest-1875103_14.gif)
MARCH 
![Merit Badge in Contests
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CONGRATULATIONS for winning 2nd place in [Link To Item #2254385] !!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Contests-235.gif)
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Thank you for your participation in the 48-HOUR CHALLENGE: " Thank You by Dido ." Media Prompt hosted by [Link To User support] March 2022! We appreciate that you tackled this challenge... *^*Smile*^* *^*Thumbsupl*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-WDC_Media_Prompt.gif)
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Here's to a world where we wouldn't have to keep reciting the words woven in your excellent poem [Link to Book Entry #1027990].](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Good_Things_Take_Time.gif)
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Thank you so much for your poem [Link to Book Entry #1026670]! Please don’t ever stop being you, both as a writer and a visionary of love!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Gay_Lesbian-680.gif)
JANUARY 
18
![Merit Badge in Quill Award
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Congratulations on winning Best Medium-Length Poem, Free Verse in the 2021 edition of The Quills!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Award-1375927_6.gif)
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Thank you for your generous donation to [Link To Item #quillhome] ! *^*Quill*^* Every donation is used to celebrate WdC while recognizing quality work and acknowledging community involvement. Kindest Regards, Lilli](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Sponsor-1375927_6.gif)
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Congratulations on winning 1st Place in the September 2022 round of [Link To Item #quotation] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-Quotation_Inspiration.gif)
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Congratulations on winning day 6 of The Daily Poem Sept 2022!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Artistic-125.gif)
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From [Link To User jayne] : With my apologies for the Redaction Poem prompt mishap. Thank you for taking on the challenge! I hope to see you next time for a redaction-free week of fun at [Link To Item #dailypoem] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Problem_Solving-210.gif)
![Merit Badge in Inspiring Love For Poetry
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Congratulations on being our Honorable Mention in March of 2022 at [Link To Item #2216416] !
Blessings, Sharmelle](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Inspiring_Love_For_Poetry-2259846_14.gif)
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CONGRATULATIONS for [Link To Item #2229211] winning place as an Honourable Mention in [Link To Item #2254385] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Action_Adventure-100.gif)
![Merit Badge in Bard's Hall Blogging Merit Badge
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For placing 3rd in the Bard's Hall Blogging Contest, June 2022](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Bard=s_Hall_Blogging_Merit_Badge-2094227_12.gif){kind=icon}
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Congratulations for winning 1st Place during the April 2022 round of [Link To Item #2268646] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-G_Specials-2271325_14.gif)
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Congratulations on your 1st Place win in the April 2022 Round of Chapter One! Great entry! *^*Smile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Chapter_1-2251918_14.gif)
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Congratulations to our 1st Runner Up of [Link To Item #2254385] Round6.](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Accuracy.gif)
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Congrats Team Pedantic Poets Platoon on winning [Link To Item #1803384] during WDC's 21st Birthday Festivities!! Well done!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-30DBC_Winner-2064535_14.gif)
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A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.
― Paul Cezanne
Thanks for your participation in my 'art' challenge via my notebook feed.
Keep on being inspired! *^*Bigsmile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Every_Moment_Matters.gif)
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CONGRATULATIONS on [Link To Item #1145690] winning a place in "Honorable Mentions" in [Link To Item #2254385]](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Brilliant.gif)
Thank you for sharing it! It's genius.