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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


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 ▼
December 31, 2019 at 11:33am
December 31, 2019 at 11:33am
#972309

When I found this website in 2006, I was running away from all the disappointment in my personal life. Sorry I brought all my baggage here instead of unburdening it before I walked through this portal door. I can’t undo the past. I am a leopard but only because I’m stained by my past.
I can’t change my default as an untrusting person as one who’s been bullied, abused and taken advantage of lifelong. I had/have misplaced bouts of anger (that I’ve dealt with), but put mostly behind me. I do put on appearances of one in control because I do not want to relive the shame and humiliation of my past — nor be vulnerable to manipulation.
That is why (in this segregated culture) I have had my misgivings. I have tried to put forth my best self, feel I degraded myself for acceptance. I have felt kinship here, but limited in association by walls that surround. I’m not ungrateful, just cautious. I did reciprocate within reason when called upon.
Because of the fires in my belly, I’ve grown. But, I’m not rolling over anymore. I keep my underside protected. I respect what you all do here. I just have to be for myself and yearn for unconditional acceptance...harder to find.
As honest as I can be. I’m sorry to all for our misunderstandings and misgivings. We both missed the boat. Sorry if you misunderstand my need for something as close to clarity as can be. Tired of stepping in it.

Just know: I won’t go away when there are still words to be said. My disabilities cannot impede either. My will is strong, stronger than you can imagine for one who struggles.

I can tag all those who’ve motivated me throughout the years (like I’ve done before) but you know who you are.

Typed with giant forefinger on Iphone with diminished vision. The force is great with this one. Let the typos be revealed!
December 31, 2019 at 10:29am
December 31, 2019 at 10:29am
#972305

Rhyming Thoughts Spun
Now My Story's Done

It’s the next word on your eager tongue.
Don’t know where inspiration came from --
Just audacious thoughts placing bets.
But then, there's no takers, just regrets.
If you don't let the bilge spill,
Empty 'til you get your fill.
Haphazard notebooks, scraps of paper --
Forming sentences arrive, disappear in vapor.
From this clouded brain come foggy whims,
Uneven melodies, jotted hymns
No choir would approach, harmonize,
Let alone perform, would rather demonize.

It's the last word on this tongue,
Until the next wayward inspiration flung.

\
14 lines, rhyming couplets

The next rhyming poem inspired by Brenpoet *HeartV*







d1931
December 25, 2019 at 11:44am
December 25, 2019 at 11:44am
#972025
Second place tie in Taboo Words Contest, December, 2019 --


Red laces adorn white leather
atop pearly steel.
Metal flashes, frozen splashes --
twirl to toe, spin and clear.
Coast the soft, oval plain.
Lofty, tin speakers
pump oldies in vain.
Wheeling through winter,
heart hiding, soul confiding,
these crystal-blue eyes stared
when I saw you,

still night in cool air.
When Will I See You Again
echoes, warped through time.
Perfect-white, wool petticoat
emblazoned you upon shadowed
bluffs of snow with Molly Jean,
whose looks lingered longer.
Brief whispers witnessed;
you took sidelong glances,
circuitous journeys away.
Bundled, small boys falling
in sweaty moon boots,
lifted up by your arms.
I pined to be helpless, too:
         share hot cocoa, a bench
         to unwrap, unlace, release
         trapped heat in that winter shed --
         see your chest heave in whiter sweater.

I waited for you to look back,
only to fade into black night
with damned plumes and taillights
from your father's Vista Cruiser.
Heart sighing, soul denying,
these crystal-blue eyes recall
with the radio repeating melodies
down the forgotten hall.
Steel rusts, a soul distrusts,
but coast the soft, oval plain
as dim Winter returns again.


Mixed: rhyming verses around freeverse story
40 lines



Poem began as a mess:

Taboo Words Contest

Metal flashes, frozen splashes
Twirl to toe, spin and clear
Coast the soft, oval plain
Lofty tin speakers
Pump oldies in vain
Heart gliding, soul confiding
wheeling through winter's
Sentimental fare

Still night in cool air


White leather trimmed
red laces
Top your pearly steel

To song, When Will I See You Again echoing through crusty speakers
You in thick wool petticoat against snow bluffs with Molly Jean
She perhaps stared longer while you took sidelong glances on your circuitous journey
Mostly away from me
Boys in rubber winter boots slide and fall helped up by the likes of you
Youth, my vigor
Winters pining to sip hot cocoa with you in the shed
Wishing to share a bench, unlace, unwrap long enough to cool winter wool’s trapped heat and sweat

See your chest heave in that sweater, inviting clutches I could only envision
December 24, 2019 at 8:02pm
December 24, 2019 at 8:02pm
#971996
Too late for entry..."Invalid Item" 

Prompt was:

Snowman in a snow globe.

Late offering:

Snow Globe at Christmas

Frozen scene, unshaken,
A collapsed world encased
Waiting the clutch of the boy,
Grown since last year.
Make it snow, make it snow!
Dream again.
Snuggle within as the yearling
Huddles with your snowman.
What tiny hands crafted
The bright red cardinal
That it would sit pretty for
Childlike imagination?

Hidden memory,
Each year removed
From bubble wrap by parents.
Forgotten realm,
Annually returning joy,
Shakes to life a youthful heart,
Eternally -- shimmering dome
By Christmas tree, inviting
amid peppermint and holly.
Twinkle lights their stars,
Within each seasonal night
To eternal delight.
December 21, 2019 at 1:07am
December 21, 2019 at 1:07am
#971801
...in my Notebook, which winds up in newsfeed, which you might not care to hear. So, I post where you can pry...

Finally got the lid on that box
Nailed it shut?
It probably won't hold --
A temporary fix
Just felt like saying
It's closed...shut
Nope, I don't even have to look
I could peek in the morning
Making no plans to check on that cat.
Now closing my eyes
Rare occurrence but
I've done this before
A cage?
That is not my area of expertise.


12.21.19
December 7, 2019 at 8:09pm
December 7, 2019 at 8:09pm
#971116
Sexual assault is something that is seen on college campuses, libraries, or any public place across the world. At the beginning of my second semester of college, I attended a party where a man felt that he could reach his hand down my shirt and touch me. This is not something I had shared with people. I had always told myself I would smack a guy to next Sunday if he ever touched me in a way I didn't consent to. But when it happened, my whole body froze and I was in such a shock that I just stood there and walked away after he removed his hand. I didn't tell people because I felt ashamed and embarrassed that it happened. When I finally worked up the courage to tell select people, some of those people decided it was their right to talk about what happened to me with others. Not only was it humiliating when I found out that my privacy had been invaded, but I was shattered when I found out that the response of some of the people was that I was asking for it. Yes, I was at a party, but since when does my location consent for me? I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, my clothing did not consent for me. My beverage did not consent for me, my make up did not consent for me, and the atmosphere of the party did not consent for me. In no way did I ask for what happened, and in no way do the other girls who are assaulted ask for what happened to them. We act like men aren't responsible for their actions when they are around other women. We also act like sexual assault is something that is frowned upon to talk about, but we should support people who have the courage to confide in us with their stories. EVERYONE has the right to their own body, but just because you feel confident in your right to yours, it does not give you the right to mine.


She attends my church
December 1, 2019 at 12:16pm
December 1, 2019 at 12:16pm
#970797

Dark Corners

The anti-inhibitants loiter in dark corners
Where highball divers leap from shelves,
Swim daringly amid ice rocks and swords
With the colorful, impaled vegetation.
Diamond-sparked, transparent sphere clutched
In my god-sized hand drained weightless
Into an empty, deflecting village of hope --
Ambition hiding, reluctant to join
The scene nestled in an activated mind.
More pleasured, a human water globe now
Unshaken, settles-in warm, sleeps
The remaining pale winters in dark corners.



https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/inhibition

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snow_globe

It's about insulating, deflecting after experiences teach us old-timers it's too late to go all in. The time for risk was youth. Can't recover from mistakes if you don't try. Life less messy instructs to hit the recliner with a favorite drink, distraction, or sleep until dead.
Sorry to spoil it, but you read it before I explained, sooo...


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He’s Brian K Compton 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/month/12-1-2019