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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/month/10-1-2019
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1300042
All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know.
The Idiotic Ideate??

Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection to the falling action I feel now that settles in a white case.)
Got to hustle to preserve the best of me before fully fading on that virtual horizon glowing more brilliant with each passing day to permanent nuclear winter.

if people don’t get it, I don’t need to explain it.


We kill all that’s beautiful before we question it’s purpose. So many people find it easier to think in the black and the white. God forbid you get lost straying in the gray.

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.”
I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad.

The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone.

In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice of your own, you might as well hand over your civil liberties. We have voices that should connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted?

Unify on issues and put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. If none need apply, question the unbendable sources for answer. If you knee-jerk react to every issue lurking out there that clutches your neck, you fall victim to your own ignorance born from a life of apathy (no doubt) in pathetic cries of injustice.

Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head.

[MY Chorus]
In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there, like a stone
I'll wait for you there, alone

"It amazed me how truth was often suffocated in minutes, but lies were given sufficient air to breathe indefinitely."


"You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself."


Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
[Click For More Info]

Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in  [Link To Item #2164876]  with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!

Rachel *^*Heartv*^*

                   A signature image for use by anyone nominated for a Quill in 2018                    

"...lasting art is never anything more than a mathematical expression of the relations that exist between the internal and the external, the self [le moi] and the world." -Jean Metzinger

I'm in love with carefully chosen words, arranged just so, audible, edible, to inhale. I attempt to post new poems and epiphanies daily with some links to what inspires.

I am legally blind with a rare, genetic form of glaucoma. I'm described as "end stage" after two successful surgeries, still subject to further vision loss. Cataracts complicating matters. Writing Can get strenuous but seldom deters what yearns to emerge, despite a documented history of depression and recently diagnosed ADHD and undefinable social disorders and/or PTSD.

My recent poetry:

BOOK
Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋  (18+)
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
#1149750 by He’s Brian K Compton


Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on...

Making sense of life is maddening. Why do I need to know, when truth may not actually exist? Learning to accept would be a better pursuit? Flailing about in my own mediocrity, hoping to bust out.

I am visible. You can put a face with a name. I would like to see other writers, too. Fiction is what you write, not who you are.

Reinventing myself. I couldn't continue on the path I was on and needed a fresh start. This time around I want to put the focus on writing and the world outside of this community as it affects my life.

I realize now that I have been baring my chest a bit more, as when young. fake me much more boring and unliberated than the real me.

A world arriving as silent as that blossom in your garden that I told you about...
October 27, 2019 at 4:51pm
October 27, 2019 at 4:51pm
#968499

From the time I first learned to
tie a blanket around my neck
I believed
I could be like my idols,
a hero; but it would be
for no one but myself,
as I had to defend my own faith.

Faith started out as courtesy
to mother and father,
to their ethic, tradition --
values instilled and projected
on family, friends,
neighbors and community
that one by one
abolished a crusader in
tethered linen
running through yards
and streets majestic.

I wasn't fit.
I couldn't serve, limited
by the values, ethos and
traditions of others --
not mine.
I contemplated every
nudge, get off my block --
each glare or indifferent demeanor --
studied body language,
hands on hips or if
thrust skyward
sending me

up, up and away
and off
to my room, my corner
of a world so cold, punitive.
It was hard to believe my faith with
what they imprinted on me.
Green with anger, identifying
with powerful monsters,
I grew stronger in my fortress,
in my resolve
that I can be your hero
and eat your bullets.

I can walk in humid night,
dark path leading
to four walls --
an anti-hero caged
in quiet solitude sought,
within knowing, out there
someone needs me.
And if I knuckle under,
I will die a little more,
become mortal.

I serve darkness
and instead yearn light.
I'm as public as ever
and alone as hell.


11.8.19
4.11.23 edited

Monsters don't know their limitations. How am I still alive, thwarting pure evil?
October 26, 2019 at 6:53pm
October 26, 2019 at 6:53pm
#968454
Some days, I feel I’m the only adult at a kid’s table. And, they’re trying to intimate I should be somewhere else. Indifferent, they play amongst themselves. If I chime in, furrowed brows and scowl as they whisper in hushed tones.

Yup, just sip the imaginary tea old man. Observe.





© Copyright 2024 He’s Brian K Compton (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
He’s Brian K Compton has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/month/10-1-2019