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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.

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 I Don’t Like My Name


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
February 28, 2021 at 2:28pm
February 28, 2021 at 2:28pm
#1005479
(With no cobbler)
a broken heel like a heart
I'll never walk again


Keys
depressing
mark time --
moments streaming within the spectrum of color
bleed out without refreshing rainfall or nourishment
for soul capture
by rhythm and harmony                    fading
playing slower
my waltz                     alone
spinning through
a lifetime of images
damning these eyes to materialize --
harden the stiff heart
a piteous organ                     burning
all its fuel too fast for refuel
to catch up with                     you

stall




2.25.21
RW 2.28.21
February 15, 2021 at 12:23am
February 15, 2021 at 12:23am
#1004508
random words i'll never reassemble
a jumble
a logjam
in a river going asea
(yet nowhere)
before calamity
the falls
rushing, roaring
reminding me
before another
precipitous water cliff
consumes
another eternity
(in my mind)
with each collapsing moment
my beleaguered head drawn
drowning
to a puzzled image
in the mirror
becoming aware of me
wading back to shore
to dry on sand
sprawling out
before night claims
my thoughts again


1.16.21
February 15, 2021 at 12:18am
February 15, 2021 at 12:18am
#1004507
made for glass
time scribbled flecks on my face
rubbed out charcoal smudges remain
in creases straying
to the corners chased
on yellowing paper skin
the medium changed
hiding words between the blue lines
incapable of even, straightness
a sun washes out reflectiontoo dull to reappear
to remind
the seasons it took for expressions
to sag
slow reckoning i suppose
how i got here to wonder why
or when im leaving
to see duller surfaces
turn my head away


1.20.21
rev. 2.14.21
February 8, 2021 at 8:39am
February 8, 2021 at 8:39am
#1003963
Merit Badge in Shadows and Light
[Click For More Info]

Hi Brian,

Congratulations for winning 3rd Place in  [Link To Item #shadows]  with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1003963].

Rachel

the burdensome place

how a stone survives
beneath rock --
heavy obstacles don't crush,
but pin me down,
locked in
beneath the true surface.

even though I'm above ground,
I feel nothing in the black piling --
my words encased,
so small,
with the little visitors I could love
who crawl and rest atop
my hardened surface.

their entrails atop my soul
mark my essence --
within a dead place, and beauty,
until someone
lifts the cumbersome weight
to find me and toss me
to the ocean of dreams,
a place I have been.

if one would take time to note,
I've been there before --
don't toss me.
hold me. feel
my smooth surface. soothe
your own soul with me.


27 lines freeverse
2.8.21
edited 3.4.21



about not acknowledging experience as true beauty and burdening us to lay in the mud until some unforseen cirmcumstance can free us once more...obvious that the piling is designed to keep us in our place.
February 8, 2021 at 8:12am
February 8, 2021 at 8:12am
#1003961
questions designed
collect pieces of your soul
to reconstruct the main
and pick apart the weaknesses
questions so innocently framed
capture the essence of you
to reflect back on consumers
of your pale flesh

we cozy to dreams
embracing the very heart
of fools who want to be loved
by demons who bedevil
the waking hours spent
remembering how your core
was a tumbler picked
an empty safe gemless


2.8.21

be careful what you share of yourself. your love is good, not the details of how a fire fuels a spirit robbed of dreams.
February 8, 2021 at 7:58am
February 8, 2021 at 7:58am
#1003959
stop
etching in the frost
visions in words
waking in the gleaming glass --
thawing soon to reveal
rolling drops
captured and absorbed
to warp a wooden frame

eternal sunrises glaring
rediscover similar seasonal views
and others
striking the windows for escape
hands bleeding ignorantly
not trained to lift
the encasements,
frustrated by evaporating dreams


2.8.21
brian keith compton
February 8, 2021 at 7:43am
February 8, 2021 at 7:43am
#1003958
you don't whisper to me anymore --
voice soft,
words collecting on pillows surrounding
my head

you don't hint to me anymore
like the winds
penetrating windows surrounding
my bed

I lingered to listen,
often closed my eyes to dream you;
but time softly
entered the room --

like gray clouds shadowing
dry, pale skin longing
wet kisses of your youth
to refill this container

bound for an oven.
will my teeth rattle
in the shaken urn?
will peace come on some mantel?


1.20.21
revised 2.8.21

even if i contain you in stanzas, you escape to join fleeting words added in other gatherings.(about structure never performing perfectly)

6.20.21 edit (Is it? About that?)
February 3, 2021 at 8:52am
February 3, 2021 at 8:52am
#1003547
Nothing Journey

Stab the pale to pierce the dark heart
         purge putrid blood befouling a blade of purpose

left to rest in the slumped hump
now guarding an entrance
         that all others be forewarned

about aim
in these journeys into nothing

about how no thing became nothing.

1.29.21

February 3, 2021 at 8:49am
February 3, 2021 at 8:49am
#1003545
more messages collecting...spinning...antithetical

I don't want to be informed by you

I know enough
but not enough to listen to the sounds between us
where we could unify if
the right frequency found

but who could know what I mean?

1.29.21

How long can I chase the setting sun on the equatorial highway
before I tire to regret
roses never witnessed in bloom (cliche?),
the stillness magnetism affords
as I lie
on the spinning dirt gem.

1.29.21

edited 6.20.21
February 3, 2021 at 8:45am
February 3, 2021 at 8:45am
#1003544
tiny messages
accumulating
brilliant wonder from above...

crisp, white
melts into a sour head...

lightening
for a jar repurposed...

all contained
comes to life...

the lid
lost long ago...

filled hope
dreams escaping...


1.29.21
added 2.3.21
6.20.21 edited
2.6.22 edited

added ellipses like snowflakes to heighten messages of snow in disjointed messages, though not really clear what this is about, still reaching for something to make it pointed, cohesive?

I could move the text about the page to envision snowfall, but only if I see purpose for this piece.

More focused on 2.6.22 edit, the notion that snowflakes from the sky brighten promise, return us to childhood to realize previous hope and dreams in an instant, though fleeting; perhaps a serendipitous signal we can take for renewal or eventually treat like a cruel reminder we cannot complete our earlier visions...but at least be in the moment for once, remember, reminisce, before that sliding door, too, shuts. Maybe, one day, opens again?
February 3, 2021 at 8:41am
February 3, 2021 at 8:41am
#1003543
The Howling

You forgot you were hungry
since all the caressing --
         yellow freedom re-envisioned
beneath the window,
ground anchored,
before clouds interfere
and the howling from within returns.

Inevitable night awakening,
renewal becomes hard, as
a portion lives longer than the other.

1.29.21
added 2.3.21
6.20.21 edit

who knows what the hell this is. Changed a bit from original.

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