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(116)
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.

hic honor, quem accepistis, non est operae pretium, sicut non est bonum.
*BigSmile*
si hoc legere potes, gratiarum actio pro tempore.

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 "Epigram ‘n Aphorism Samwiches"
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 Lorem Ipsum, Perhaps?


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 30, 2021 at 8:17am
December 30, 2021 at 8:17am
#1023835
Solemnly run,
predictive models of outcomes measured by
gut punches —
reactions to the likes of you, sneering,
who eye,
approach a solemn figure recalculating
the models,
wondering if I can trust your ‘sort.’
Experience taught
uninformed me to become cynic,
who you plead
drop the gloves, let guard down.
Well,
since you implore, it must be safe.

Flinchingly,
I behave like a fool,
a precedent having already been set,
as outcomes form from
the calculator treating Math
as an emotional subject.


12.30.21
December 29, 2021 at 10:25am
December 29, 2021 at 10:25am
#1023799


If I could boil it down to a few words that illuminate,
I would
If I could write it down with the briefest definition,
I would try
If I could show you how I feel in just one expression,
I would try emote,

but,
so many vistas to follow, so many stars in my eyes

I often have to wait until the darkest night
to get the truest vision to share with you,
if you haven't tired of being at my side

If I could,
I would

maybe, I have

12.29.21

perhaps, you have visions of your own
that I haven't taken the time to listen

no,
I did
December 29, 2021 at 10:07am
December 29, 2021 at 10:07am
#1023798
my heart could be a drum you beat upon
my soul clangs as my engine sputters
no brakes, no steering down this street
careening off the curb, headed for your house
the shrubs could rip at the root
flowers strewn across a hopeful garden because
you could be the piston's percussion
a mechanic with a wrench rachets
the tight bearings of something hoping
to disconnect my assembly before I drive
straight into the living room of your lovely home.

does love mean having the patience for something,
someone built with good intention,
wheeled to ride a winding road leading
to your welcoming garage door,
before i could separate from this machine,
unlike the cyborg still coupled to beating,
the rhythm of something that tells me depart
and roll these hills and valleys to meet
with a mechanic who could help me restore
all the purpose the machine was intended for.


why run-on poems like these?
show the desperation to express something
before interjection?
could someone measure the length
of these expressions?

12.29.21
December 29, 2021 at 10:01am
December 29, 2021 at 10:01am
#1023796


watch that anorexic model sing
hair falling out beneath
a stylish leopard print cap.
garments hanging off her gaunt rack —

glimmering garb drapes
a beleaguered soul
perilously vocalizing all
my fearful heart contains,

a ruptured soul like yours
clinging to hope someone
is listening and ready with daring arms
to drape this empty form.


Let Go
Frou Frou

12.29.21 (private)
1.5.21 edit, add (now public)
December 28, 2021 at 11:28pm
December 28, 2021 at 11:28pm
#1023780
The aching has returned
to my eyes,
each night I dream about you
again, dream
we're together in a bright nuclear vision --
a blast that slowly
blinds me
forces to me to forget but see
a fading smile.
Yearning and waking again,
I would lean into your skin
taste your tender lips
for warmth
I cannot savor in these night reveries --
of you and me flying
cavorting upon a shore of an endless pale sea.
your hands reach for me,
taken back by determined tides.
a rising sun obliterates
eyes blocked by impending reality
and the renewal of such purposeless days
wishing I could dream
the rest of life away.


12.28.21

edit later. written in 3 1/2 minutes to Sinful by Rhye
December 22, 2021 at 10:44am
December 22, 2021 at 10:44am
#1023546
Worn Grindstone

You’re grinding an ax and I can see
you’re not willing to listen
sparks fly from the blade
as you hone steel to suffice
and I who just wants to make sure
you don’t need to use that ax
is willing to confide whatever you need to hear
so you can let the Grindstone rest.

12.22.21
December 10, 2021 at 9:06pm
December 10, 2021 at 9:06pm
#1023054
What is keeping the stars apart?

What is in my heart
(that was many times
torn apart)?
I cannot venture — but — (in my mind)
to that glowing, wondrous galaxy,
capturing a fool every night
dreaming.
What is keeping me, (in abstentia)
from rejoining:
welcoming arms, busses upon cheeks,
shining faces brighter
than a lone, dim one
(once the sun,
gleaming) before a supernova
sent me?

Hiding in this dark, I wonder
each night where
each of you are, if
you'll near me,
the right one heal me,
heal my heart, (so) no longer
vexed by (this) unwillingness
to be torn apart,
again.

I carry it, too
(I fear).


12/10/21

It doesn't have to all be sad. But it is.
December 3, 2021 at 8:57am
December 3, 2021 at 8:57am
#1022727
Where I've bled,
a trail leads to a death bed.
Regenerate my heart,
or prepare as purpose for soil.

Where I'm led,
a thousand dull faces blink
when I enter their chamber.
My only indication --
noticed.

Where I dream go,
a dull memory of repressed guilt
for foolishness inspired by comic heroes.
Too late learned,
they couldn't possibly exist.

It murdered me
to learn I couldn't possibly co-exist
without compassion to inspire confession.
And what would that be? Ignorant, unchangeable.
Blindfold me now.

Back against their wall.


12/3/21
2.4.22 edit

condemn me for my ignorance. As a man, I'm but a child with two parents: one TV.
Brainwashing is too strong of an accusation from one so awkwardly susceptible to think he could fit in.
December 3, 2021 at 8:51am
December 3, 2021 at 8:51am
#1022725
All my God ever asked was try
Not succeed, not bleed for this
All my God asked was give
Not too much, but what he needs

All the world wanted from me
Was my flesh, bones, eyes
Pay my debts like a ransome
To release this beleaguered soul asking

Where is my God during all this?

All my love ever asked was a kiss
But that was only the start of it
My love needed my hand, continuous
Support until death we part

All that has grown in my garden seeds
Bears more fruit that pass from beak to land
All that I've ever sewn there is weeded
But struggles more to riise each spring

When I look to the sky
Does he see me lying on the ground
With a frown begging to reap?
Does my God even know I've died?

With the daisies interlaced surround.


12/3/21


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/month/12-1-2021