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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 ▼ |
| the color blue: markings on a pale wall by the unhinged door. gentle notations rise to meet another in graphite on satin-finished trim. darling with age, no cleaning agent dare scrub unless we give this house up. the first day, you stood obedient for an angling stick atop your head. she reached beneath, scraped in permanent blue, while your backpack laid idle by the closed door. your brother, three years before, ascended by graphite. dark markings intermingle amid your rising blue. such hope sends a gaze reflecting on those first days, your noggin and wide open grin, now foggy mornings of yore. every marking inked, as high as it will go, on the finish with a final date installed, I now realize the potential of you is a memory, not the future anymore. 7.31.21 34 lines To my darlings, Myles, Camden and Madeline, wherever they may yet roam. For: "Monthly Poetry Contest" |
| Riddles Like Bath Bubbles A life spent placing myself on a path to serendipity, hoping to capture uniquity, reinvent a cliché language like re-equating a theory of relativity, reconstructing riddles of math, long since solved, without its rudimentary roots, recreate for minds exploring a future and not the past, when I simply need live in the present for clarity, sanity, watch the other scavengers collect clues, as I solve this game in my head, in the shine and gleam, never having to tell what I’ve found and what I haven’t, a sort of serenity -- bath bubbles you cannot clutch. I'll never thrive on your divinity. 7.30.21 One sentence, run on, to make a point |
| Awakenings I cut my heart out and hand it toward them. Stupid boy. Put it back in. We only need your blood. The eels slither, smile, caress my flesh, soundless, suck, suck. Leaches. I’m supposed to enjoy this. We like your taste. We’d like more. I’m learning this is my giving, wither and pale, grow scales defenseless against the swarm. 7.25.21 Decompressing thoughts to phone on road trip today. |
Cool White Dawn We were looking at charred remains, embers not as bright since a chill dawn -- still white smoldering -- nothing compared to the colors sparking a black night. A fuel-soaked concoction, once enflamed, glowed romance, softened eyes, brushed hues on two pale faces. Rose-boned skin inspired by wood used up. We lingered too long. Now this thing is ash. I ran a grammar checker over this today and it wanted to change 'enflamed' to inflamed. However, the only distinction between the two is that 'inflamed' is more commonly used in the US, while each is defined the same. So, no errors. I still struggle to see how this poem lacks in competitive value. |
Saw/buck  In my mind, the places to find money unclaimed and free, that I found just for me -- came from the street outside a place to eat, under cushions of the couch, hidden deep in the pouch, or, in a wallet owned by dad. Would he miss one if I had? In my youth, when I lost a tooth, a fairy stashed it there, under my pillow with care -- a sawbuck just for me inspired toothless glee, smelling better than laundry. Yes, crisp and fresh, sometimes I wish I saved it in a bank like a Swiss franc, earning interest annually -- but, not so in reality. A sawbuck for me, was enjoyed merrily. But, they're all gone like the end of a song -- each fed to the alligator, the depository incinerator. Memories of that cash, now dreams up in ash. Fun Facts ▼ Sawbuck ▼ The Writer's Camp Static Version I Deleted ▼ Fun Facts ▼ |
| Writing to myself so loud, as if you’ll hear. ears burn down, disintegrating words so hot... you melt, excite, invite me out of these woods amid owls who don’t think like me, don’t believe I’ll make it through this one long night. bones chill in rags, ill fit for a vagrant in evergreen, who wants to be seen by a clean white moon, muted by clouds, but soon piercing a scene, hoping you’ll defile this nature, should you liquify, as I spin words measured by reason, crystallizing hard in wide blue eyes -- this stature thawing in your view, a silhouette until Luna hits me right where I take my stand. Melt with me where we could be one. 7.21.21 28 lines, free verse |
| Another Highball Down Savor Where is the love? In a highball glass? Or, straight from the bottle? Is the love in mixing the drink? Is the love in offering this concoction to another? Watching them enjoy your liquid creation? Life is however you mix it. Love is however you choose enjoy it — either in the preparation or in the consumption. The bottle is never empty, my friends. 6.04.19 Addendum... But, I'm currently out. Because... it's a magical refillable vessel that needs needs a little time to, ah find the right combination of sunlight and shade away from the deciduousness of it all? My mouth...er, keyboard, that is. 7.21.21 (TD+1x3(2)) not equatic? not equasible? we can't define everything with our diseased minds (I really hate this process) Please, Brian, don't google all the values for a period in this construct. Let it be today. Resource: "Glaring" I plagiarize...myself. |
While we're being handled, spun on our chairs with fancy words whirling 'round, better strap yourself in. It's a nauseous ride, if you're going to get to the other side. 7.21.21 a date that is twice divisible by itself. what I call an 'inanity', or one of my inanities. |
| Flushed Words circle a drain to drown. In your bath, I sink, Stainless. Perfection washed clean From hands that toil For you, You consume in this bath. Unworthy, I watch the tap open A deluge upon My head. Unable to consume what you call Your love, I spill down the channel To a dark dimension, Space afforded Fools like me seeking True divinity Only to discover A sewer runs through My sentences forming words Of grief. I am flushed In your stainless drain, again. 7.13.21 It is what it is 7.18.21 Poets Needed: "Invalid Item" |
| Consumed, Hopeless Each retelling better than the next? You know the feeling but not the words, as you’re consumed to relate to a tender mind like yours who says, I know. The one you’re with, not on the same page, shames you like the ignorant, tells you how to think and not question why you are trapped in this lovelessness. Looking for the one, holding on to hope, straining out the windows of life, you see scenery so still speed pass, wondering, is she there under the apple, beside the dappled mare, riding the smoker tractor beside an idle farm, seemingly calling you to breakfast, but it’s late. The moon rises. The sun has no time for this meandering, wandering that doesn’t visualize purpose, while your soul, consumed, settles for zombies taking the last of your pale flesh. Don't lay down! Run! Daydreamers consumed, hopeless. 7.13 7.18.21 not worth improving this Poets Needed: "Invalid Item" |
| Yet Leave her alone, boy. Let her rest. She's had a long day of cleaning up your mess. This life she couldn't put straight. Your brain probably can't contemplate what she's gone through since she first laid eyes upon you, a bastard produced from a loveless marriage. The fights, her wails echo still inside your walls. You're too ignorant to notice. My anguish not yours to inhale. Leave it alone. Go back to bed. She's badly bruised, but not bleeding, Yet. 7.13 7.18.21 Written during Long Hall, purely conceptual about the different parts of a schizophrenic brain negotiating with itself not to panic after self-abuse. And, I'm fine, too, if you're wondering (narrator speaking). |
| Speaking To The Lonely Strippers Why unburden your soul To the damaged stripper Holding the pole in thong, Bedazzled by sweaty glitter, Nipples bared, blush-red, When you don't see her broken heart, Masked in its agony of sweet grinding In the room, On the chair, Over your pressed pants To rhythms thick with bass, Produced by empty minds Earning their own bottom dollars, while Masturbating regurgitated words To a lonely, uglier audience deprived Of sex, of love, just Like you, lifelong? You could at least tip more than the recommended gratuity. 7.13.21 7.18.21 final edits 19 lines, freeverse I used to lust. Now, I want to hug them all. Speaking to myself as the party of the first part. Just think inner dialogue. |
| The Bath Again Another day with back pain, no medication But sweet Rum that/which Can temporarily touch/reach Up to my neck in this Boiling bath -- An organic mix bubbling with stale Flesh and a mind's persistence, nurture These aimless words, a blend Of grief and bliss, while An ever vigilant brain, vexed Tries remedy but can only reminisce When we were whole. This was my universe. My planets aligned around A holy, loving, warming, Fiery body gleaming In the morning, fading, tagging off With a white moon rising, Checking in on me, I could feel luminescence On my face, soul -- Permeated, adjusted as We all rotated together I'm in my bath again. It's welcoming, Not reassuring enough, Just yet. 7.13.21 7.18.21 edit more or abandon? Autobiographical |
| Until Then, For Your Love You held all the love, all The offerings of A lonely boy, Eyes fixed on Your every movement until You could feel the weight Of my gifts In your accepting arms Weakening like your smile that I see falter Like the light in your eyes that I see dim A gaze tightens, forms lines Around your mouth, below I see form upon Your exposed hairline I speak But your mute button pressed view you scan the channels In the sky For another For forgiveness For tempting a young boy, needy For your acceptance, For your commitment For your unconditional love I can wear out a welcome quick I can wear on a soul I can wear you down I can wear this heart on my sleeve Until then. 7.13 7.18.21 More edits coming. Stalker-y. |
| We listen to him personify whiskers on his face, narrating how they escaped the razor. Wily, spry, gray rebels sprung free, sproing! from the shadowed, pale patches in unchartered regions 'neath his chin and cheek that mock a groggy, wrinkled face, before black brows muscle up on his forehead, when he's stopped, reminded again, that it’s Sunday and he is not yet dressed for church, if he's going. And so, his shadow darkens the hall back to the bedroom to start the morning over again. He rolls open the top dresser drawer. Two black socks peer back at him. Are we going to play? 7.18.21 19 lines, freeverse Something I made up today from the poem open about my personifying and narrating that can both amuse and annoy, though mostly the latter, if you ask them. |
| Compromise, you say, finger waggling, begging me to walk your way. If I hesitate to follow a temptress, what about my worthiness? Give up, you tell me, lying on dewed grass, tempting me to roll your way. I could lay a blanket for this vixen, but what about my worth? If I give up, If I compromise, If I forsake my art for someone who really doesn't want me, wants to know they control my soul's offerings, be my guide, will I get lost? I only see steep cliffs where I'll be a lamb lead like all the rest. It would be sweet death to be done with you, but I have worth. I have pride. I'm stubborn enough to walk you over, kiss you full on tender mouth with a spray from waves, lashing and licking an eroding shore, then push you to your death, because you deserve it for weakening my resolve. But I won't, and I stay, and this game continues this way until someone's dying day. May I see you in hell, dear. 7.16.21 random write after listenign to boygenius in previous post. |
| Breathless Start -- Throbbing heart, ruby-throated romance hovers above the hummingbird feeder. From a bay window viewed, amid evaporating dew, a field of daisies tremble when summer breeze stirs. Will you depart? How we're apart; my heart near yours, separated by clear pane. Hum, flutter -- I hear myself mutter, don flip flops, gather a picnic lunch. Chase a dream? I'm trapped in a scene inside a foggy head by this vision of you. Hum, thrust -- How you must notice me, too, arriving, vibrant, green angel? I'm not whole. Muse, heal a poet's soul, given flight as morning yields to a white sun burning. A sky so blue, I must join you in the pleasant shade of evergreen to write. Hum, flutter -- Wings melt like butter, fade to the backdrop -- a steadfast soul inspired by summer. 36 lines you name it, rhyming verse Writer's Cramp prompt 6.24.21 with thoughts of poetic inspiration from a rare sighting.
Also, Another failed poem from Stormy Poetry Newsletter contest of yore. |
| The whole world filled with suckers looking for something to follow. Here I am at your doorstep, a basket-baby reject by those who would not raise a demon. Will you rear me, let me stray onto your carpet of philosophy? Pleading, tell me how and what's right. Why do I bear such shame in helpless plight? You take me in, your odd duckling who blindly follows you deep into night, sure to belong, never wrong to carry on your purposed fight. A world full of suckers live by rules, sometimes recanted philosophy. You say they fit as a round peg in a square hole, just like me, who dares nibble fare at your set table. Questions aim, looking into gray eyes, sequestered long in a dimming room, divided by maddening walls of doom, and what you believe best for me, from what I know is right. I'm a sucker, your bastard child, alone divided. A square peg in this round hole. You never knew I could be so bold, as I'm to learn now beg forgiveness for this acquired, unfit obsession. 6.27.21 29 lines, your may hear rhyme, but mostly assonance in this free verse piece. You didn't think I'd conform, did you? Writer's Cramp prompt in bold, though as to the actual idiom, as a quote: Kenelm Chillingly asks, "Does it not prove that no man, however wise, is a good judge of his own case? Now, your son's case is really your case —- you see it through the medium of your likings and dislikings, and insist upon forcing a square peg into a round hole, because in a round hole you, being a round peg, feel tight and comfortable. Now I call that irrational." The farmer responded, "I don't see why my son has any right to fancy himself a square peg ... when his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather, have been round pegs; and it is agin' nature for any creature not to take after its own kind." — Edward Bulwer-Lytton, Kenelm Chillingly, His Adventures and Opinions[ from: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Square_peg_in_a_round_hole On any day you can learn something, unlearn it, learn correctly and move on. But, who's going to correct us? - Brian K. Compton |
| little bird who took shelter in your welcoming tree, the innocent one drawn into the open wood in a chill at dawn, spied by me. speckled plumage, fresh feathers multiply, she squawks an awkward tune, found your seed meant for prettier prey, colors illumed in your yellow space, warmed by currents in a soft bed. ugly, it crows from shadows of judging branches unyielding, hops limb to limb to seek your love afforded to inhabitants preening in view. not meant for you, little bird. Hope ruffled by cold. Hope shrill in winter. Hope soils the ground, as little bird spent too long refining an awkward song. Hope can't fly as a thing of joy should, with a heart planted by your seed scattered, follows the wrong dream, confined now in a dry, dark wood. 24 lines free verse Wriiter's Cramp entry 6.15.21 unedited with this blog entry prompt: use the title 'a chill in the air'. Hmm. |
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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)
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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)
![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}
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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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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)
