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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 grew concerned she would send slivers to my hand if I touched - eventually - my skin became rough from handling lumber long after she became sawdust her timber harvested and sold to a craftsman who deftly hewed and hammered together her pieces, showcased in his home I stand in forest - try, remember - where her vision appeared. saplings root to tower toward that dream of heaven. experience taught true vision is in her soil I no longer don gloves, caress smooth life, moisture for brittle, chapped skin weathered red and frail bones within breaking, crumbling as those towers do, on my heart. 9.30.22 10.4.22 extra 10 lines added 10.5.22 3 lines added I could add to this, continuing metaphor naming various species of trees from an innocent cherry to the mossy oak. Perhaps, she did not lie in good soil… blah. I’m sick of myself. |
…at any given moment… The medication will kick in shortly now…mindfulness, don’t forget…it’s a tireless treadmill we’re on…the sky is a maw swallowing colors…if you look to the East…log on…don’t forget to pick up…what’s so funny?…your meds…waiting…laughing boy… is a tireless treadmill…with waves higher than the Empire State Building… hey, there…get in the fox hole!….Arrrggghhhh!!!…tireless…waiting… are you listening?…look to the North…polar ice caps melt… did you take your meds today???…wait, what time am I supposed to be there?…mail, did you get the mail?…tireless…treading…hear… what I…just said?helloooo…meds?…super position…echoing… repeating…new location…same…in the South…hurricane surge is ripping into the coastal region…area…no, region…correct!… your prescription is ready for pickup…Ding! Ding! Ding!… did you get all of that?…your Zoom conference begins in four minutes…take cover! Hide!!…it’s okay, honey, I’m here now…incipient..void…why did he walk two miles in the dark?… don’t leave me here!…looking to the West… does auntie know you left?…the horizon peaks like the plumage of an atom bomb blast…nu-nu-nuclear Winter…he’s running a fever…discontent..of…I ate all the cherry pills… freezing…tireless treadmill…woozy…catching a train on the fly… haul it in the yard…he’s coming to!…America Wins The War?… concentrate…only a minute left…Just need that billing address… perfect…what? what’s perfect?….I remember you and you…but, I wasn’t there?…don’t hang up…lines crossed…treadmill 0:00…yes, I’m here now…how are you doing?…loaded gun…question…hope I didn’t keep you waiting…ground zero…I’m fine…namaste. Just luggin’ that big ole brain like a gun, hey son?…If I die before I’m born…here, burn the manuscript…postscript…re… re…that’s supposed to go first…can’t kill what’s already dead. 9.29.22 30 lines … to here …  can’t { justify} … oops! got left out — Maa-omm!! running it all back between two atoms human formatting can be a bitch keeps you up to 2 am when you gotta be to work by 5 still aiming for a bullseye, when it gets dark fling the arrow let’s go home when did the ‘po-em’ end? begin?? it’s always running 40 lines … to here Free verse P.s. for real now: This is the stuff I wanted to write, experiment with, (still do) when I was discouraged by my writing instructor, who would go on to be a poet laureate and have a poetry prize named in her honor. I know about all the don’t listen to critics stuff, now. I was young and hung on every word of feedback I could get. It’s what jams my gun, sometimes. Words could be weapons I could be using them wrong How am I to know the difference, then? Than? No, then. Correct! |
| Heaves words like logs into a fire Feels the warmth, hears a crackle Smell piney, smoldering ash stoked, glowing yellow, red, blue, orange chilling, retiring gray and black, hissing at the last of a drink flung Scoop the remainder up again start fresh tomorrow Drawn into lungs under stars glimpsed Such a dreamer Burn through so much wood bountiful, wonderful, burnable wood sectioned, split and stacked Pull up a camp chair and join in 9.29.22 I really write for me. Contests, etc. do little lately to fuel me. Not that I don’t try. Have to heft that wood to get it going. |
| She made a face The queen said she was about to rule that no more bacon be made in the air fryer because she can't get rid of the rancid smell in her house What? I don't smell it Sovereign rule rears its misaligned, ugly tiara once again. Maybe, I'll buy and eat cake -- the whole thing -- and not share.  9.17.22 It's my brother's birthday. Hold you applause...he's a Jehovah. Okay, noted. |
| take a deep breath before you go down… too loud for you, you say. not loud enough for me, in our shared space, lowering the volume, diminishing a vision. dreams chased, uncaptured when you enter the aural blue room, claim the neural space going right through brain in decay, dying from resistance in lonely reminiscence, recapturing just one happy moment building to help soar away from this hole in my head, filling lately with silence. I click keys, tap lightly, not to bother you. I look into a sea of pixels still gleaming. down I go into the belly beneath your level. No idea what it's like to be me? horizons swum unseen by your eyes that thrive in bobbing images connected to words surfacing, soundless until when submerged to ocean floor, leave wonder above -- find another life amid waving anemone, dreams of gilled fish breathing. Oscillation fills dry ears, their bubbles bein blown full of love, heart and eternal rhyme. I have no idea either, but still I wonder. 9.14.22 1.10.23 edited second stanza, still working on. dream-like words, capture wonder and create a mind palace all my own to subside in someone else's world. |
| At least she had the decency to run after him with palette knife to express her passionate plea. I get 30 years of whittled bone from carving words sinking deep beneath my brow producing a Poe-pendulum fate. 9.10.22 |
| "There's no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you." --Maya Angelou and it won’t be told today agony snowballing in gut knows the void expressed and never understood story isn’t truth retold no words capture this void shaded by elms cooled hovering above roofs untethered ghosting your walls Impenetrable feint horizontal flecks unwitnessed it won’t ever be told to a soul risk the misunderstanding of black illuminating only within no suffering inescapable blanketed dark dreams unfolding refolding in cavern just echoes painted on a canvas you pass in narrow passage between two indifferent hearts one bleeds just, not for you 9.10.22 21 years tomorrow — a misdirect, I confess |
| 8 by 10 yellow waves ripple an ocean sunset. eyes stray into glass-field gleaming. heart bounds toward a clear vision. if I stray, fear I'll fade forever. in wildflower an idle mind wades. weightless, lifted higher, sunken into that mahogany frame. horizon nears in that lucid pane reforming. rush of a dry, sage world arrives. new silence escapes the heavy day. in valley, vibrant voices beckon. browned skin in dusty cotton dress witnessed in bittersweet isolation, happy in love's desolation. blue eyes, daisies adorn pale skin blushing. red, a widening sea soon engulfs me. sucked into time-paused eternity, stolen moments break inside reality. clocks realign, reawaken one redeemed. it still does shine, now unconfined. dreams tucked away, still at play. a random view from that 8x10 hung helped remember when, the sun, two who were young, glowed on that horizon. 9.8.22 originally:
more of a romantic tact for the old poem about memories inspired by a glass-framed photo
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| I. the ocean came gently Whispering, I love you travell’d a long way fear’d I might lose you the last words dying in the rolling ocean like a single drop “came” miraculous grateful to have last moments part life and fear entering into the afterlife noiseless, patient I mark’d a little promontory, isolated Mark’d vacant, vast surrounding II. It launch’d forth unreeling tirelessly speeding Noiseless a spider on a rock small It weaves a complex, beautiful web pays close attention completes its task By the end importance clear lines open-ended. its web a metaphor for soul but means isn’t clear. 9.6.22 23 lines Redaction Poetry The Daily Poem  2-Time WDC Quill Winner: Best Poetry Collection, 2020 and 2021    Redacted From: Walt Whitman, From Poetry Analysis Out of the rolling ocean the crowd came a drop gently to me, Whispering, I love you, before long I die, I have travell’d a long way merely to look on you to touch you, For I could not die till I once look’d on you, For I fear’d I might afterward lose you. In this lesser-known piece, Walt Whitman describes the last words of a narrator’s dying lover and his assurances they will find one another again in the rolling ocean. The poem begins with the speaker telling his reader that someone, like a single drop from the ocean, “came” to him. This is something that seems miraculous to the speaker. He is grateful to have found someone to spend his last moments with. He is part of the circle of life and death, and by the end of the poem, the fear associated with entering into the afterlife has dissipated. A noiseless, patient spider, I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated; Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding, It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself; Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them. In ‘A Noiseless Patient Spider,’ the speaker spends the poem watching a spider. It is on a rock overlooking the ocean. Although it is small, the impact on the area and the speaker is clear. It weaves a complex, beautiful web. The speaker pays close attention to how, string by string, the spider completes its task. By the end of the poem, the larger importance of the text as a metaphor is made clear. The final lines conclude the poem, but they are very open-ended. He says that he sees the spider and its web as a metaphor for his soul, but what exactly he means by this isn’t clear. |
| Actors like to pronounce their Gs at the end of words-sah They pronounce them so hard-dah they sound like a lilting syllabah-lahs I’m gonna need you to try that again. Sylla-bubbles Again? Sylla-buses One more time! Keep it rollin’. Sylla-bulls Print it! No-ah Yes-sah, and don’t call me Noah. Now, you gotta hit it hard … Like we rehearsed … Take, in 5 4 3 2 … Your socks are swing-ging sing-gles. They don’t seem to want to ming-gle. Your laundry basket should be a mag-gnet. The dryer trap is your only drag-gnet. Cut! That’s a wrap! 9.4.22 Unless uncommon mates scrubbed in the tub clung where they hung with a casual tee, you see? geez-ah! I’ll allow it, my child. |
| Madness, let me be. This endlessness in reverie, veins seep sadness. Let me find some peace tonight. In a second, empty comfort, an angel. Sweet distraction twisting, escaping with you, maybe. That straight line keeps waiting — cold brings me to my knees. Fly away time; a chance break? Beautiful release in dark veins building. Easier in your arms this waiting. Hard to make okay the reason. In a second, feel good enough. Empty, this weightless time tonight — memory from that cold day. Tired, silent vultures everywhere. Fly away fear. The end I lack — find storm wreckage of my reverie. Believe me one last time, ok? Inglorious madness, let me be. 9.4.22 21 lines, free verse Daily Poem Use only words from song Angel by Sarah McLachlan Minimum 3 words per line Lyrics: Spend all your time waiting For that second chance For a break that would make it okay There's always one reason To feel not good enough And it's hard at the end of the day I need some distraction Oh beautiful release Memory seeps from my veins Let me be empty And weightless and maybe I'll find some peace tonight In the arms of an angel Fly away from here From this dark cold hotel room And the endlessness that you fear You are pulled from the wreckage Of your silent reverie You're in the arms of the angel May you find some comfort there So tired of the straight line And everywhere you turn There's vultures and thieves at your back And the storm keeps on twisting You keep on building the lie That you make up for all that you lack It don't make no difference Escaping one last time It's easier to believe In this sweet madness Oh this glorious sadness That brings me to my knees In the arms of an angel Fly away from here From this dark cold hotel room And the endlessness that you fear You are pulled from the wreckage Of your silent reverie You're in the arms of the angel May you find some comfort here You're in the arms of the angel May you find some comfort here https://textinspector.com/workflow/ |
| I carry my lunch pail swing the clasp box in tow, know I carry you where I go My coffee warm as your heart vigor consumed on dirt at noon. Coming home soon. The clock crows in my heart. I’m coming home to you see cornbread consumed on checkered cloth — stirring our hearts with spoons. We canoodle in the aroma of a plank-board room — love hovers over our air. The clock sings soon, too. Last cup of strong Joe before rocks crushed and carried to quarry to collect carats for a ring banded so smooth. I carry my box home fast, lighter, longing your heart next to my heart — a soul of two. Up the cool porch I bound. Outstretched, I’m received above a firm clasp. I really carry you now. Soft in the parlor caress a prize. From my box a box I carried just for you, until this June. I crush rocks hard for you. Cradle a soft heart so tender. 9.2.22 31 lines Free Verse For The Daily Poem Sampling some alliteration, also assonance with some consonance not so cautiously but casually. |
| I live in a world unlike yours Sorry for the intrusion I’m a bit alien, don’t align… Though I’m trying to. Could you stay in one place long enough… You’re gone. Who was I talking to? I crawl back into this bell tower… Spin some gears, fidget… Trying to attune. Was that a perfect note? Loud enough for any other To see with ears… I belong here, too. 9.2.22 Spontaneous write to ‘Forgive Me’ Sorry by that over-apologetic singer, Tiffany Thurston. Pretty tune. |
![Merit Badge in Shadows & Light II
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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) How did it get so late so soon? woke under an avalanche pouring down time on a well worn head, foggy life: inevitable waiting mysterious brown washing out ~~~ on a glass sea set on its side inside it’s shapely bubble . . .slipping through I lay at the bottom remember you on our beach fire glowing ~~~ warmth of two souls now darkness fading you woke before me now, no vigor left for deeper diving the last granule could fall into this anticipant void ~~~ i’m not ready but everything is wonderful if you’re asking how did it get so late so soon? we could tilt this bubble back I’d show you what we missed ~~~ read to you from my notebook wake slowly my love. 9.1.22 How many lines was that? 29 What the hell do you call that god-forsaken poetry style? free verse I did make a Nicholas Sparks reference, if ever so slightly. For 9/2/21 Daily Poem (no show) Brian is a legally blind individual on the spectrum (highly functioning, I swear: pending complete self-diagnosis) with ADHD, for reals. It makes remembering hard between vision loss and 10,000 thoughts and other triggers in your impulsive head all at once. Don’t worry. I’m under good supervision and medication. Beautiful mind - commence shut down. Sorry, it takes awhile to shut this thing off. It could be all night, a week or month. By the way, I want to mention I’m using a tablet to write. This is the only portion where I used talk to text. By the way, if IQ were scored by an arcade game I’d have top score. Wrote to this (good background vibe for read): Personally, I feel I’m trapped in a bubble of time — lock into one memory and make it play out forever, nearing the end of the vinyl record. Our glass or snow globe, shaken. Forgot my glasses. Squint. Got ‘em now. Impulsive, forgetful. Squint. Went to make coffee before reading what was happening today on writing.com, before this poem created for contest. I look at the Keurig now on standby. Just imagine if I had had caffeine. |
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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)
— 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 
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
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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)
