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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
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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. 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.  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.  You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.{/blue}  It’s like plugging myself, but using other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋"  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 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.   ![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) August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼
No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼  Now: I was such a whore.  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.  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 ▼ |
| I can take every thing I've ever written and throw it in the trash...right now. And, start over. A new era has dawned. It's that meaningless; though, historically significant, as I move forth with waged words encrypted, easily solvable, but not loveable...to the likes of who? Oh, your friends. Sorry. Does that mean I am an enemy? No. I've devised meaning within the subcultures of a much larger construct, incentivizing parties within to war with one another, or just play nice, with their words. PC, you know? Slowly, being redacted. Not studying our own ignorance, but ironically blacking out the text of the past, deleting old episodes that showed where we were on the path to where we have come. Without that bridge, you can no longer look back and look into the present day mirror to clearly see your image. And, just image a generation that studies social culture and symbolic language through the internet, without ever picking up a classic novel, learning history, or advancing beyond a second grade, rudimentary, 12-year-old's imagination of the universe. Can we distract more geniuses with unprovable math and Hadron collider's while sipping on more of Elon Musk's gas? 3.31.23 workshopping this, too. Edit later? Tired of my own bullshit. Really. I don't want to be a modern day Holden Caulfield than pay Tom Sawyer's fee to paint a virtual fence from the most wildest (revealing) dreams...but only one color. Monochrome is the color of dreams. Let's avoid red. What's in this coffee? Stay focused, Brian. Sorry, that's my schizoid other half, life partner. We're inseparable. Use it to jail me, as I use as defense to stay out of invisible traps to social imprisonment. Nicer than gas chambers. What am I implying? What do you infer? can you? read? between? the lines?? Huh? Exactly. Nah, we don't connect. Wrong audience? Not looking for one. Do want to get off this line, if - I - could - just - hang - up... *dial tone* (anyone remember...at all?) def. editing later DEL no anagram can get me. maybe an emoji. how much time do you have to read symbols in this cave and clue it altogether? Yeah, I know. ;erft pf cenmter tjhos os whjat i wrptoe. an now it's noon. more  Excuse. I'll have some commas to insert, later. |
| Validation when you need it you're broken when you want it you're vulnerable We seek salvation without owning our sins And with that loose thread someone is likely to see and give it a yank Bear your soul with half your head buried in a thick, icy glass you drain -- need is superseded by want for a costly refill You can go a long time between servings as if you've been without love and you will kill yourself inside to get on the outside No one has to own your sins They will own you if you let them because you need human contact, validation But if you have pride and experience and have been tormented from the weakest to the most manipulative you stand back up, step away brush yourself off and go on a new mission because self-fulfillment comes from tormenting anyone who represents those that took your life you're alread dead you have nothing to lose pride as a motivator is fueled by controlled rage inside a highly functioning mind that never sleeps until... 3.26.23 My name...is Inigo Montoya... |
| Run From Yourself (Lyrics) Where do you go? Where can you go? When you run from reality. It’s a form of insanity. Out on the road. Don’t know where to go. You’re stuck in reality, insanity. What can you know? Run far from it all. Get as far as you can. No one you know. No one you depend. Mirror splash on the wall. Swimming in the insanity. Image distorts you small. Can’t live with conformity. Why do you run? Why carry a gun? Everyone left behind. It chases your mind. Reflection bears in the hall. Ever since you were small. Can’t leave it behind. Everything will remind. Out on the road. Seeking out your reality. It’s a heavy load. Can’t live with conformity. You’re the only one. What good is your gun? Hear everything smash — Crash of mirror glass. No one will see In a lonely scene. Out on the road. Out on the road. Words echo in here before finally near, A frozen horizon And it’s setting you fast. 3.21.23 After 3rd episoode of Burn Notive, inspired by main character’s plight. |
| the moths gather at night but do not near my dim light scum of life hardens a glass shell housing this hot bulbs flickering the moon crickets chirp their loudest bow legs do not rosin up in my thick damped by flood waters seeping, steeping thoughts keep interrupting I do not intersect with the crossroads life sparrows flock to fullest feeders flowing squirrels ravage and |
| twang, twang is that okay? you look the other way my confusion apparent your back, what I was staring at I've been wanting to share the ups and downs, how to turn over a frown but my strings might be too tight i'll adjust tonight and sing another song CHORUS: wish i could bend that ear have it near to know you care what i've shared with you, special you. you do know, you're special to me? not sure how you'll feel if i directly express these feelings now lyrical, but maybe not as smooth as i wanted it to be CHORUS: wish i could bend that ear have it near to know you care what i've shared with you, special you. let's just look at the moon and wonder how it absorbs the fire of one, consumed, 93 million miles away, even at night. 3.13.23 yearning true acceptance, community, not false flattery |
| i can't selectively delete portions of myself. though, in a science fiction novel -- a man has the ability to reverse aging back to when he was young and chiseled, a blond Adonis, but carries all the baggage of his younger years behind a blue-eyed façade. But, he has unlimited access to a time machine (with no stipulations for outcome) and goes back (and forward) to meet the most beautiful women -- just to know if he is worthy of their attention, and learns it's having lived that's more important than physical appearance, but his looks are what first informed him he was (finally) acceptable to others before, one by one, they rejected him because he was lacking confidence, independence and a vision for his life, because he was stuck -- stuck in a childhood that imprisons him in the after life, future life, in his travels throughout outer space -- black, black void, space. fictional men in sci-fi novels, written to life, are wrong (sorry Han), because their nerdy masters (with the fire of all spite) do not know how to envision failure before it repeats itself. and cliché, and true. just ask Einstein, who has a handy quip, stupid. 3.13.23 this needs further vision, information, but like a writer, crafting a cautionary tale for oneself. we are not who we seem, even in imagination. |
| If you can relate… https://www.reddit.com/r/aspergers/comments/jvt8y6/ive_realized_as_an_adult_im_i... …because I can…100 percent…or about 95ish? I will read the full Reddit thread someday…it’s just…my ADHD…? 3.10.23 Why Do I Care (um, Why Care?) Abused Confused Conspiracy theorist Thoughts contorted Unsupported Are you gaslighting me? But, not insane…me too, or why not me? Why? Me? Me don’t know, and why not you, or did you know? Kept from me? This seasonal agony continues… I’ve learned it’s not your job to understand , and I… I am the one who was built with compassion I’ve learned to employ, though misapplied? Deep in it now? Educating myself to dispell any informed hatred I applied, told myself Unworthy No worth? But, Not my baggage anymore I like this thing you call indifference Can’t seem to uncare Maybe, I’ll figure it out, besides rambling. Now, to the matter of sharing, then editing and future cringe possible change of possible hypocrisy that I don’t envision yet showing Showing? It’s my own thread that I pulled. Unwoven yet I can be seamless it seems, since no one really calls me on it… any more Anymore? And just like AI, I’m learning. Danger, Will Robinson? *robot arms like slinkies flailing* I’m not funny I’m not funny? Still learning… but not when to STOP 🛑 ✋ Think a thing Question a thing Limbo Forget What was I thinking? Rinse |
| Can I speak to you, directly? Why do you turn, run the other way? Out of ear’s shot, I’ll not strain my voice, sweetly sing, gently ply your poison. Why not hear, before we’re dead what puts a gleam in the eye of one carefully ambling about you, not as rigid as a zombie. I’ll be dead, rigor mortise instill a pale flesh shadowed, yet fears your dark. Needs what your light could bring. You sniff, distrust. Just want to be real for awhile. Delusion kills illusion I’ll ever win space in your chambers. 3.8.23 |
| It’s as if I composed it echoing a vacuous theatre in my head. What vibrates more than my love when I write little odes to someone yet visited beg eyes decipher coded dreams the bitty clouds forming in my head 3.8.23 |
| Recipe Alone, sequestered and comfortable in the Best place — fave drink (coffee am/bourbon pm) to lubricate. Mood music that soothes, flows, doesn’t beg an unsympathetic ear, just a heart. But, alone. Very, very alone — a place conducive where none can insert. I prefer moon over daybreak. I prefer blues to intensify heartache. Properly medicate when wielding a hefted sword bleeding its worth, bleeding all my love, hopefully drained. Then, erase the board, or sleep. Know a dream’s worth. 3.9.23 2-Time WDC Quill Winner: Best Poetry Collection, 2020 and 2021. NOMINATED for 2022!   
A book is coming…I keep telling myself…as all kinds of arbitrary deadlines near & pass…like blaring traffic. So, there’s that. |
| It was you eight minutes ago and you’ve changed. More than 93 million miles from me at the nearest, you break away from a tenuous spot before cloudy memory. I didn’t have to be here to feel your heat, captured in magnified view. Further you travel from a weakening world, blaze up the black, blind all in your path, burn them if they get too near. They don’t know intensity of one so red, blue-hot core within. And you don’t know, I know you’re cold. I can look up at night and imagine twinkling, fire-breath contained in memory. I knew bright beauty, now light years ahead of a fading vision. In just eight minutes, mascara daubed on, awakened me. Wiped clean, our clothes shed, when the last vibrant glimmer. I could stay up with you all night, bridge that gap, a billion miles away from myself. Not near enough, shutter slow, captured one blurry, 4-year-old image, paling. Reminds, it’s sooner than a trillion, as I’m moving the other way, too. Had to look back at one snap in time. Tattering, does it matter anymore, as we both explore the dark side of our lives? 3.7.23/3.8.23 Idea of capturing the memory of something not present, that we are seeing light years away, like someone gone from our life. Can’t retrieve a fuzzy vision like before, without some imagination. |
Projector (Jump Cut)(In My DNA) The projector cast spells on my eyes squinting at bare walls capturing frames of illusion causing delusions from spools of black, filmy stuff humming along all night until dawn spawning a bright window or two but I don’t wake up I don’t wake up until shook and I quake did I dream that? what involuntary night response did I offer as I shake my head shake my head can’t shake it off as the projector reloads and spins again? what a fool I have been what a fool what can I do conditioned by this damned DNA strung out, clipped and pasted? I can’t jump cut these scenes all through night looping looping through dreams looped legs twitch, head flails, pillows thrown lay on the rug not beneath my head no support for a head no support none can know my dread when the filmy stuff spools out my mouth like vomit I should quit here I should have quit there I can’t quit someone clip my DNA before I splice, tape all the edited pieces that I can’t throw away never throw away it’s in my DNA. 3.8.23 I go night, night now. Sweet dreams. I would love a break…from my heart. Rewrite for Shadows ▼ I go night, night now. Sweet dreams. I would love a break…from my heart. |
| In the bitter battle against myself to complete a book of poetry and losing, I am reminded why I make notes at the end of each blogged poem. As neurodivergent in an unidentifiable location on the spectrum, I know I suffer short term memory loss that can lead to permanent memory loss. I could look at a life of concussions as another excuse. As an example, a poem I'm working on to include in the anthology with it's updated notes gives me perspective (at this hour): Uttering Our Rosebuds If I stop walking to start thinking all old feelings and musings might rush back, and with a new twist. Something else crystalizes as truth to diminish a melting illusion. Or, is it delusion that freezes me here toying with a shape-shifting puzzle not faithfully marveled, in want to understand? stung by the white lies of life, until left uttering our rosebuds in deathbeds? 9.9.18 12.11.22 more cohesive and inclusive to include reader with edits 3.6.23 deeper look at poem ending to create imagery to support this otherwise unsupported summation. Original version stored on WDC. ‘white lies’ the new emphasis? Just before first ‘Or’ could add ‘simple enough’ as a two word sentence at end of illusion line. I think the second verse juxtaposes the first and it’s about thinking too much and getting caught up in our own lies, not living life but asking why life. Additional note, supporting introductory thoughts: In pursuit of publication, is the focus that these poems are offered as some awakening as neurodivergent, atypical, ADHD sufferer seeking truth and solace through the construction of these self-evident, or searching for the truth postulations coined as poetry? The only handout I seek is peace of mind. I could just stop writing altogether. Then, moments later, he lifts the pen-finger again. Yeah, I'll consider and edit further, later?? I'll actually make time for that? pen-finger? if only these walls echoed true answers instead of my warping, distorting voices in return. Nah. Could work on that, too. |
| Wild words heaved like logs into our night fire. Crackle, wild words; spark colorful fire light! Pine twigs burn wild, glow rising fire higher, spewing ash wild; dancing fire stirs our fright. Bloom-flames white hot wild fire rages desire. Drawn in lungs, heavy verses sung to air. Oh, our stars! Flicker of flames lick each out! 'neath blanket, gray mist chill cannot despair blackness in these blues crooning, I'm devout! 3.4.23 Neuvain (obscure poetry form, French?) "The Neuvain." Explain my attempt? Words 'wild' and 'fire' come together in first half of poem by line five, as a form of showing love and fire growing together. I did not want to use wildfire as the tired expression or as disaster. Usage Note ▼ Creation time total: two hours, three minutes because I'm legally blind, prone to err. |
| Multitudes From An Unglazed, Shattered Heart And the days after creation ignorantly wasted 'neath a truer light None purposed a dim-lit brain before hot as a broiled oven light gases ignited the stove soul — passion melting in metal bakeware. Particles collided at higher rates of speed until flashpoint. Perfection exploded on walls designed to self-clean, except the victim, clay heart, not glazed or red still beats. Not put down, or out of misery, rapid expansion projects beyond its container. Vapor escapes, creates multitudes of universes unnoticed, recreating eight whirling planets, a precious princess within, lone denied dwarf and micro-ball, center to all, centrifugal as magnet. Yet, this hyperactive heart of no known design grows infinite, light years away and ahead of any that would understand, repulsion spinning and distancing within an immeasurable incipient void, readied to receive its haywire, wayward pigeon splattering — random atoms collecting, amassing more devious, wobbly orbs — brilliant illumination — fire-bright dust humans call stars in other, as yet named, chocolate bars. In black, lifeless journey propelled it to Hulk-smash emptiness down random, interfering constructions. No blue-print clutching contractor or laborers viewed. Moving at careening pace, he cannot conceive all in a monstrous wake. Unflinching, does not hesitate. Word, word, word, adjective- noun-verb — highlighted, asteroid punctuations move about, collision courses redirected, redefine affected systems it’s attaining. If only humans could read beyond his opaque manner. Only it manages imagine if he should steer free, in a blink, drop finally in her sink to soak, scrub microbial dust free for the rest of a century. The oven cools at some point. The heart well below it’s peak 1500 centigrade, she puts in a box -- cannot be disposed. Remnants glued, acrylic applied, she sidles, eyes it from one side. Lifted, lays by her bedside on the stand with the lone switch-bulb installed to burn alive her nights, comfort her silence, when she can’t sleep, touching bubbled-smooth surface and dream a day he roosts in quiet, like seasoned roast, or drags himself across a dewy lawn, limps upstairs, a battle-worn cat defeated. Tattered black fabric smelly, he is designated a mattress side. She’ll remember when they convened in the middle, intertwined, never too tired from heat at flashpoint. He’d bring home the cosmos in a brief case, if she let it past the door, never framing its contents to adorn a wall. He lived and forgot all. The brittle, clay blob/pot/pigeon dim-gloams, needs fuel and a map for redirection home. 2.24.23 a bit much, like me, and difficult to sort out that big bang metaphor for a heart that bursts from its love and never returns to normal, though she thinks she can make use of him, though damaged as he tries to finding meaning in third person, as narrator, throughout and at end, retelling dramatically and otherwise boring story of societal affect on a highly functioning atypical person who suffered emotional devastation that takes a lifetime to heal from, opposed to the ease of the neurotypical. there, I summarized it. it's my little monster poem all glued back together in one big blog thingy infinitely expanding as we/I speak/write (so folksy/yet not) and cannot stop the path the initial explosion caused. a calmer metaphor would be a stone dropped in water, ripples that ring/wave out until smooth as glass again, unless crash back, overlap, because of restricted size/space to spread, and resulting mental devastation, but still, returns to smooth...unless, windy, water added by rain and other sources, as murky puddle car tires and children smash, or...imagination depleted...finish yourself... |
| putting down the toilet seat (post buffet ballad) all will be revealed as I go off the deep end Mission Impression part 1 From the sidelines get a good seat watch my origami unfold don’t forget to take notes my sociologist friends if you can comprehend insanity on a leash boxed like a cat grace is self-preservation on what field my performance? did you bring a drink, snack, comfy blanket? ready to be in awe? I see that dull surprise lift eyebrows fifteen-sixteenths of an inch and in a moment now mouth agape — I can’t tell if in awe or hungry. eat your snack. it may take awhile to refine this act. wait? you’re leaving? Mission Reaction part 2 I should’ve been to the point. and that would’ve been…? Can someone give me a cue how to act with you? in your houses? none have visited mine. you say something, I say something. you walk away. do I follow? information locks legs that sway, hear the chorus, repeating line, stay. stay. stay, when I want to play? getting that I can be a bit much. do you think it’s my choice? think, like I have to — be in other shoes? try walking in them. a bit big? their invented adage, not mine. unproductive. instruct my cursed DNA. information, restructure atoms, sequences so I can come back…as what? zebra, condor, polar bear, penguin? I reserve the right to not lick my junk and have access to public toilets. Might be compelled to migrate. Mission Projection part 3 not long. all my rights taken away. I love my friends who are gay, swing the other way. gender fluid could be my style. I’m beautiful, you know? yes, you know. over-employed, it has opened code-doors to a lonely, clod-foot guy. if I incorporate a sense of societal silence, segregated boundaries realized, again. pain to near. I was beautiful, blond, blue-eyed, tall — from cherub to muscled, chiseled marble white. now pigeon stained, crumbling in my Athens. I still have my art-junk — I’ll not lick clean. Onlookers point at a facade. I lied and that is wrong. does it matter to you since I’m alien to your race and ironically not in minority, so, man-child whining someone please place yourself in my Nikes? a bit much, I’m getting harder to know. Mission Unification (keep it together) part 4 insulate, isolate from perceived insult. oh, that thing flung was said with love? not giving anticipant public meltdown. too proud for that. and, I never really approached you. hope you found comfort with a good sideline seat. it’s my final act. I recoil from touch; friend or foe? I really don’t know, and I forget. and your name is…? not because I don’t want to know. afraid to love you and lose you like all the others who ask how’d you get off your leash? insist, get in an escapable box. and I wonder, can you hear as I talk, fill silence through and outside societal-constructed walls? Where is unity, your unifiers? not the spinsters. humanity taken by gun 60 years ago? of weapons, the greatest we lack — financial resource and systemic philosophies since Machiavelli to control. hypocritical inversion, satire infused. sorry, what joke is funny? do you even know the division, where I squat in kennel? world peace can bite my perfectly proportioned rump. cut through diversion from you’re wound-up mumbo-jumbo Trump. sorry if that sounds racist? who taught you to respond that? how did you get that many followers to salivate over grammatical buffoonery? your thumb reposting nation? o-kay. a bit off track. a bit? don’t mock me. I’m mocking you. I’m going to be the pest your nuclear tests cannot devastate from weighted heels of your billion stomping boots. but know, my DNA conditioned lifelong, too clever for that. zombies feeding on flesh of your mediums walk slow, can’t return love, but money from wallets, collected from demigod employers whose buddies rake it all back, because what is life but stacks of red, white and blue chips lost in the flash of this reserved, casino life. Unplanned: Coda zombies dine on a buffet of hookers. porn is bad. bran muffins are good. putting down the toilet seat now…from where I shat. 3.2.23 Originally titled — zombies need hookers you want positivity — fight for what is right. segregated, clasping others mouths shut, they divided us through social conditioning. you’re negative now, and we’re defeated. serious, you can’t see that? won’t? right, you’re busy thumbing that river of streaming whore buffet glut. you’re the devil, negative. you’re not a simpleton, just human. not positive enough. |
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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 ![Merit Badge in Humorous Poetry Contest
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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)
![Merit Badge in Gay Lesbian
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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)
![Merit Badge in Quill Sponsor
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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)
![Merit Badge in Quotation Inspiration
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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)
![Merit Badge in Artistic
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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)
![Merit Badge in Problem Solving
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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)
![Merit Badge in Action Adventure
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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}
![Merit Badge in G Specials
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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)
![Merit Badge in Chapter 1
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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)
![Merit Badge in Accuracy
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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)
![Merit Badge in 30DBC Winner
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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)
![Merit Badge in Every Moment Matters
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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)
![Merit Badge in Brilliant
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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)
