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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
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I’m disabled by more than blindness. Writing: Like one of those adventure games where you go off questing in different directions but you don’t advance in life. Pretty medallions sought for words/my soul, slow burnt. Full of misdirects, right back at the start, but still quest with thirst. Life of turmoil produces stuff like this. Not going to call it beautiful agony…it gets a bit uglier. Minced words too pungent. If they take time to notice, must be doing something right. scripturam in hoc non mutamus, quia stultus es et differentiam nescies. (hic) The beautiful mess you made: I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost | I'm sorry you got caught in the middle. - me Neurodivergent poet seeks love without that fart in the room between us. Honesty without mincing words has come with a price for those juggling the hot my takes on what’s ‘truth’ (here’s some oven mitts). Best to stay clear of those surrounded by moat rules. Real dialogue is accepted. Wasn’t as open at first about recent diagnosis on spectrum with ADHD (complicated by PTSD, life of brain traumas). Been suggested by doctors of late I might want another brain scan (since 12/4/17…blogged). This poet’s words collect, arrange on a kaleidoscope spectrum. The experience of discovery through writing is the truest reward that has allowed me to grow and learn who/what I am — what other people get naturally, immediately, while I stomp around in it. Been blessed, but pushing it — envelope, world and all inhabitants away. Push buttons, find boundaries to trip traps. No clue why cat curiosity, living in your dark. (Bored, perhaps?) Now and then, push dirt out of this hole; someone/thing/entity might envision me how I need to be viewed (if I knew what that was). Cryptic, yes. Try living in my dark, find comfort amid strange, virtual, wonderful walls that tower above, tempt me to scale. Been more than I could imagine or expect here. But, achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall  . I dig deeper than I should, often without forethought. Aimless words, brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit targets? Get a ‘back off’ shoulder shot when asking your motivations here. Not fair?No prize to eye; not incentivized. Dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do best with what’s in hand. My Pluggers: You are an icon here.  You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.  It’s like plugging myself, but using other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life"  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 Barking Kafka Postulate Kafka’s gun is barking at me. I think I’m gonna go off in the second act. What’s my motivation? Ask the author of me who improvises all things, provokes and manipulates me into action. I could kill my puppeteer, but then I’d be dead. And would I be resurrected for the matinee? Hoping for writer’s block. I should get out of bed. 5.12.24 Writ in a few moments, not fully realized. Just like a barking Kafka gun. #Writingforwriters |
| …and stumbled in early day (series?) Down the hill we run, stumble, fall — tumble, roll, get up, run to the meadow, amid the flora, wild as us, where we play. Still tumble, fall down, early day. Bee stung, we run up the mound to mother. she packs sun burnt skin in mud to ease the pain. With a band-aid and a pat, told, ‘go outside. It’s a nice day.’ We wouldn’t want to waste the sun, where we climb, granite bluff. tug at moss, salamanders scurry away. In dense wood, red-faced sweaty mopheads, chasing tree toads, hopping fern to fern. Few caught, in pockets shoved. We hear her holler, and we run past pines, up the walk, deposit shoes relieved of sand, by the steps of the sheltered truck. We can’t sit just yet. In the kitchen, In our skivvies, she picks them off, one by one. We’re barely bitten by anchored bugs. Dad pretends to eat one, then it’s lunch. 5.11.24 5.12.24 really, midnight For my departed brother and upcoming celebration of life When your sight-impaired, thick fingered with tablet while inspired…nothing gets in the way. Give me a blindfold, tie my hands, I’ll peck with my nose. Meh on talk-to-text. |
| I haven’t worked out all the tpyos Impulse Control One minute I’m trying to do something, the next minute I’m trying to do something, and it just goes on like that. One time, I realized I was in the moment. So, I looked around to see if I had found God, wandered and got lost, and haven’t found my way back since. I’ll get a selfie if it happens again, record the moment. What? I should just remain still and enjoy it, let it wash over me like a shower? Gee, I hope it’s not someplace cold or public. No one wants to see me naked. Nirvana would be nice, though, if Kurt Cobain wasn’t dead. I had two thoughts at the same time once. They refused to collaborate. I get why dogs chase postal employees or squirrels, and cars. But what’s the deal with them hating cats? I think it’s the other way around, because cats probably prefer the Foo Fighters. (book title idea: Dogs Jam With Nirvana…)How’s it going Dave Grahl. Sad when NBC replaced your song. Then brought it back, but too late. Ed was never the same again. I think when we find love the world ends, fades to black. Ed knows what I’m talking about. Dogs, too. They like the Police. Always in pursuit. Hey Sting, or are you Stung now? To do do do. Ta da da da. That’s all I wanted to say. Is there a lyric to dummy translator on Google, or the other away around? I need to fix my poem. I’ll edit later. What a minute. There’s a dog staring at me. The cat is looking at me like: just don’t do it. Or, it went to sleep. Can’t tell. Oh well, another epiphany is around the corner. Just don’t want to get caught with my pants down. I’m getting better with navigating the sharp corners, even when eye don’t see them coming. I should have ended well before 5.1.24 What’s the line limit, Kenneth? (think I just got hit with something) Rather, 53. For actuarial Porpoises. Something I worked up, since a thought. I like the Eagles Of Death Metal now, or yesterday. What’s today? You can’t just write something with line breaks and call it poetry? Poetry is in motion always, somewhere. Think it’s Physics. Einstein could probably work out the math to prove the Big Bang offspring of my mind as more than theory or my relative. Can I stop now? Only 23 hours and fifty minutes left, when it continues again. You get in my head and see why I’m a flake. But not a snowflake. I think people don’t like those. Gets too heavy to shovel like these words, prose poetry? Nap. Cat? P.S., you know what takes longer than coming up with this? ML Writing Should I add color, italics, dropnotes? My iPad just shuddered, or my forefinger. Can’t tell which. Probably conspiring against me. At least I have the cloud. I think it’s going to rain. Good God, man! I think that means…(digitalis interuptus veritas) If I separate my body from my head, what do you think spills out? Blood. It’s blood. Right? More — words? No, blood. Final answer. I feel good about this. Sorry, sorry. I’m going. He blessed me with my wife of 29 years this summer. Okay, it took 20 minutes. ML less than five. Will I get my life back? Sleep?? How’s my run-ons, Mom? She wasn’t listening. Guess I’ll just have to repeat… |
| Let’s see if I can finish this notion written in the truck … Metal conformity hones of brittle blade. Grind on a Whet stone, tool, implemented by butchers’ carving up the slaughter, bullet brain heads severed, bodies relent blood. Separated hog produces the desired cuts, packaged in neat paper taped shut. Seal that fresh meat in your freezers moms, serve to your hungry, craven children told vegetables are better, yet, harder to raise, process, package, if not salted away, thawed in your careless microwave — imploded and exploded protein with green-spear-shrapnel, mother wipes all clean with rubber gloves and bleach. Now, Go outside and play. It’s a nice day, after we’ve devoured thankless sacrifice, the oinkless. 5.1.24 impetus 5.10.24, mostly structure, adding almost all of final two verses to include conclusion-producing title. Tap-tap, tap-tap went the finger-poked tablet. Reminder: trim nails. |
| Unnecessary Burden I am…like fucking Atlas over here shouldering a spinning, magnetic mass — counterintuitive black hole rejector — told stand aside, shut it, yet my grimace draws judicious stares, blinking sycophants, angular posturing of the ‘I’m trying to get something done over here’, adding audible groans, ready to instruct how to accept the obligated debt of a boulder grinding my scalp daily, while passersby shove, shoulder, spat upon by those quick and dead, seem to have lived more — taxed more (firmest grip of shared “reality”) — than a carny fool who dares be their spectacle-shadow, unable to accept patronizing, proffered pity equal to contempt on her scale — sacrificial ineptitude, waste of a true immaculate embryo to his wayward-sputtered seeds — grow to bear this weight for no one I’ve ever met, but they sidle, shuffle past without a look, suckle-savor that plastic, white coffee dispenser, it’s lingering steam blown out, wisp of last harvested vintage processed, from some Colombian hillside hauled across a treacherous divide, to consume each brown beans’ last exhaust — that earth consuming cup sinks our sea heavily, jars my arthritic, osteo-vertebrae decay. I have no choice. What could those meek do, but hope scripture true, pray to not join an aisle from stiff-dead, wood pews audible ache, trail to that bully’s pulpit in silent remorse. Accumulated history of negative input that would launch a thousand underworld vampires, living off the degrading cells of my anatomy, reconditioning, sparked as your green mountain despiser of seasonal tidings, find truer love in self-worth and yet prompted like a socialist to serve some common… not a storybook any child should recitate, not fake enough? Swallowing a bilge of mixed apathy, concealed aggression, convert into this new energy, when I toss a dense rock. My hurl does not aim, cannot consider your fate, but the discard of sacrifice to the elitists who suck mother’s teat, slobbering, ghoulish as a younger sibling ready to gesticulate at anything as transgression, hoard all snack … left with none. 5.6.24 and that’s where I ended I consort with what I shouldn’t … and here I am. Ignore the following (unworthy): 2-Time WDC Quill Winner: Best Poetry Collection, 2020 and 2021. NOMINATED for 2022!   
My feelings about awards documented long ago with early life struggles that manage to still manifest now. Ego doesn’t preen now, but staunchly defends. I check my reflection more than once daily, with the clearest reflection allowed amidst obstacles. |
| I sang these words aloud in kitchen and decided to write down… We’re in a black hole — a vomiting vortex. There is no way home — do you get the context? 5.8.24 It’s bleak, yet I live like a song is ready to erupt from my mouth about standing on the edge of an abyss. (and continue on) Anti-Jon-Bon-song? Hold ‘hole’ and ‘home’ and end lines 2 and 4 on upbeat. Kinda sings itself. I’m rather melodious myself. Available to musicians/lyricists who need inspiration less dark…or, darker. and there’s no motivation today and there’s no place to get away if some light should appear what will I near? since it’s ever-expanding and crushing while its ever-demanding yet hushing allow pain from under your thumb? and your silence making me numb? space has many divides In crevices many do hide it’s bleak yet I live to owe sacrifice I shoulder-tow. through cosmos there is no time washing words out with every rhyme. I’m dumbing my ears — — I don’t want hear — free will you borrow but never will own. others will fight for what you have earned, smite and light you, watch as you burn. Tomorrow…the sun-rise For a moment…no-oo — lies It’s no surprise that I’ll quake moments after I wake for all that I strived, no one will confide their struggles by my side, gaslight like everything’s fine shaved molecules leave my sword flash in my dark glint Steele eyes full-face I fight without disguise I’d rather be dead than be confined in your den, collared and leased and unfed Eternal I know but I do not bend *music*Black hole…black holy-hole…  Sanctimonious sanctuary … Etcetera, ibid. |
| My little brother could not wipe away my love of life despite reporting my experimentations that earned timeouts, punitive arrangements, to spare his own bottom from the stick with a fingers’ misdirects. Anger I ingested, held into manhood, when realization I should be worried about him — after drug use, failed marriages, abandoned and shunned by his woman daughter, having blown his share of a family fortune. I’m secure in my holdings. Head up, even in life defeat, because there is one worse off, needs, but won’t reach out to me, Mr. Armless — cut off after that great disease called childhood. My heart with widening chambers ready to hold him within, yet ache from emptiness. 4.28.24 22 lines, free verse Created here/now in minutes…from informed experience not so dissimilar from PTSD of yore. If anyone ever accepts me unconditionally as human, I’ll hold them as dear life. Brother, not my friend, hated me, jealous, yet as the youngest, most freckled, adored. I too, don’t have a relationship with his only offspring, a lovely young woman. How flawed this human experience navigated? P.S., if I spend two hours in one sitting here; that’s on you. |
| I’ve been writing and squirreling it away because I don’t have time to share lately. But, I will share a text sent to my spouse this morning…a snippet of something my unending mind could more fully speak into existence, time permitting, if I actually knew eyes between ears would give consideration to the blooming sea of an ordinary brain that wants/strives to be (accepted as) beautiful (amidst all the waste called ugliness — my own): Was creating observational humor the other day in the carwash when the lyrics “same as it ever was” splashed and assaulted my brain. I decided now to look at song meetings for The Talking Heads “Once In A Lifetime.” https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/43180/ The commenter with 22 likes stated it best (to me) with another remarking beneath about something that always nags me…”It (song) kind of talks about how if a the wheels of a brain stop spinning(,) it is technically dead…if we just accept everything for what it is, and don't question things or stop to think for a second, we're not really living.” And what am I always doing but questioning life, obsessed with thought I routinely express if not verbally, in writing? Writing gives perspective. Writing is stuff on a greaseboard wall that no one visits. (Many new thoughts relate to this). So, to avoid the existential abyss, I need to ask myself what is this thing called writing and why am I doing it? What are these observations I am having and why do I think anybody would respond to it? More importantly, David Byrne’s use of symbolism with water. The top commenter overlooked the lyrics poetic quality. Water is a symbol for life, washes things away, gives us life and holds it all together. And it’s a mystery beneath the surface, further hiding us from truth we all seek. At its essence, the song is about baptism (once we accept this is our life), same as it ever was. And, what you do with it will only mean something to oneself. For me, it’s been a perpetual sense of wonder. Now, ‘into the blue again’. 4.19.23 Who cares where it begins and ends, jump in the stream anyway. Don’t just watch it go by. If someone is there to baptize you, make sure it’s your faith and not theirs that you commit to before taking that leap. Once immersed, you may struggle for breath and your own life as they hold you under. It’s your commitment, your blessing, your life (and how you live it) that gives satisfaction only to you, and none other. No matter how you live it, they will either accept or ignore you, but ultimately, could bend and warp your strength and beauty, when manipulators steal a little something from your soul-essence. Claim it back. Choose nirvana with your tequila. Another sunrise coming. Don’t linger in the dark past day break. ‘Tequila…sunrise’ — yeah, thought it. Are the words ever really that far from one another in any vernacular? Can you guess what I’m thinking now? It makes me so sad ‘we live’ so ‘far apart’ and are virtually (double entendre) on the same page of illumination (doubling down). Sadder…the division widening. I echo the preceding text’s final thought, because all I ever hear is my own voice, even inside this four-wall box of a life. |
| White Winged (Revised) from the pandemic I hope you know darling I can't be the wild garden butterfly haphazardly flapping white wings before your aromatic hyacinth, lily of the valley bell sprays, amid spring tulips daring symmetry and other hand-me-down heirlooms longing my tender hands weed, divide, surround your beautiful, wide eyes envisioning eternal symphony, nearing like infinity, in an instant taken by storm, gnawing rodents and bespecked insects with voracious appetites — like mine — who needs your love, too. I'll be white-winged wherever you are, flowing but separating from our past to move beyond, fading forgotten into the blue, clouded vault of mystery -- beyond the dust of towering pine — swaying, judging -- and below the ground with soil ever-loving, always nurturing our shared desire of blooms sprouting, graceful garden butterflies showing — arrive — to replace my ego. "white winged (MV)" Coda The most beautiful melody at memorial you can't hear play in this empty row eternally alone. You clutch my hand as if knowing my suffering heals your own. in bed each night in earth silence you tenderly clutch my soul's remains. My eyes only for the spinning ceiling fan whooshing away sounds repeating tiresome, eroding guilt I cannot fully love until I know you celebrate me again. I've come to realize I broke the vision you had for me, of a silent knight long ago, when the white steed suddenly died at your distressed feet... when you realized I became the helpless one, and you would have to shoulder me from then and beyond every tomorrow until I'm ash scattered on breezes sending me hopeful in that morning bed with delightful things I never had eyes to appreciate, like your longing before my soul's return to you, darling.  Can’t fully justify But then, who with intricate webbing ill-devised can free from our own destiny trap. Are you getting any of this? — creator of Community, Dan Harmon, supposedly in his sleep Deep |
| Revisit Rewire (Rewiring) Feed me amphetamine messy head needs a rewire boy, I’m tired pretty please prescribe I’m not a seeker life is bleaker without the bright sunshine supplied and dosed ten milligrams at a time but quit by five if I want to sleep tonight coffee helps tea's better I'm told for mindful patience good vibes wouldn’t that be nice man, I was so sad when people didn’t get me still don’t it’s gonna take a while to rewire me write on that pad: amphetamine 21 lines "Rewired (still rewiring. big job) (MV)" |
| Before The Six Three At the counter top topics of the day where we stand — deliver words with crumbs washed down black — clutch — never look at one another longer than eyes scanning outside a bright vestibule Mindless deliver a vessel to ceramic louder than anything in our minds at present grab a coat and go as if to quest — but the sun always slithers away before a mind can ignite — spark a permanent horizon. Synth pop, rhythmic vocals, limited instruments and percussion. White Sade. 3.25.24 4.2.24 edited in caesura (My brain suggested this word before googling what it was. What a brilliant storage device.) …Yeah, I really nailed it. ~ Jeff Winger We are the instruments. Jeff, a tool. I’m actually loving writing right now. It won’t last. |
What would an Angel say? The devil wants to know - Fiona Apple At the heart: Some (neurodivergents) don’t know how to act, thus feel like a bad person because they can’t say/do the right thing for demanding others, because it’s not in their DNA. The statement, at the heart of this song, the way it’s sung, means ill will — the wolf (devil) wants sheepskin angels wings) just to deceive. It’s the basis for Machiavellism to manipulate. It’s even gone beyond that to mocking, knowing you hurt another and rub it in their face (like front-running athletes) to feel superior. But, it’s creepy as a snake slithering about that garden. “This song is about Apple making a mistake in a relationship (cheating, perhaps?) and therefore making her a ‘criminal.’ Depression and self-loathing were a common theme in Fiona's songwriting at the time. She told Interview magazine: ‘It's psychologically and chemically impossible for me to be happy.’” (No source I’ll share) If you’re looking for someone to mask pain, do the right thing, keep it ‘positive’, it’s not wrong, unless that person is hard wired and grounded from PTSD, from experience. You can devise a best version of oneself to reflect properly in a society that needs conformity, but turns its back on the genetically predisposed. There are the sociopaths and narcissists and their cheerleaders compelling happy conformity — yet shun, repress, castigate. They wear the skin-wings The neuro in me is done with the chemistry set, altering what’s beautiful in me for the Fiona’s of this world. The singer properly knows what she is: person who tells it like it is, regrets, does it again, can’t please everyone, even herself. Angel or Devil? Both Manipulator or Victim? They choose for you and wear the halo of the other It’s called controlling the narrative…haven’t we learned yet? ‘History is written by the victors’. 3.22.24 Tryin2B Not flexible enough to bend that way. |
Not since Britney was stuffed by that NBA security guard…dunk heard round the world less than 24 hours ago. Ignore Tenacious D version. 3.12.24 I’d post to social media a paired song/video…like so much social not worth the effort. Except this: Trace Jackson-Davis sent Wembanyama to a floorboard grave. #solittle2root4 #quashed #GOWARRIORS #notasnowballchance? #givehellatry Hopefully this post doesn’t disappear… after 3 edits. |
Con-cocked I’m the envelope you fill with your craft, Red paper hearts strung in a row enter this soul. When I’m sealed, stamped by your tender hand Deliver me to that destined land. The warmth of your crimson constructive Lip-sticks me from within from your heat. Our delivered fate from post I’ll inscribe With saturate ink pursed lips imbibed. 2.29.24 In progress…
Rock Bottom ▼ Well, I entered before last day of month end...  🫤 |
| It’s always been there (my poem), but you don’t notice or care to admit… In their version, The Marías slow the story down while also cutting it short at just over two minutes. Yet so much differs throughout those 125 seconds. The “...Baby One More Time” cover welcomes listeners with a quiet and gentle guitar melody. Within seconds, Zardoya enters with a soft, raspy tone, pleading for one more chance. Softly layering her voice as the mesmerizing background vocal, there's a much more intimate feeling than the original. Within the first half minute, Zardoya sets a guilty tone as she sings, “I shouldn’t have let you go…” There’s a regretful implication as her voice quivers. Then, she declares, “There’s nothing that I shouldn’t do / It's not the way I planned it.” The subtle change from Spears’ more innocent “wouldn’t” to The Marías’ “shouldn’t” places the responsibility on the singer for her past mistakes in love. Zardoya is not pleading with the promise of doing whatever it takes to save the relationship; she understands she should be the one to make the effort to salvage it. Then, instead of singing “It's not the way I planned it,” Zardoya speaks this line with a disgruntled tone, as if she's tired of having to defend her intentions. "grind on this (MV)" https://www.afterglowatx.com/blog/2023/5/8/cover-story-the-maras-make-a-relaxing... It’s ‘not the way I planned it’…none ever do…plan. Yet, manipulation everywhere I look. Hit me baby one more time?? I’ve been writing since the first black eye… |
| The Small Voices (Not A Windmill’s Chance…without my brother) I wish I had a nickel for every time she pointed out that’s just how it is now like I’m ignorant … like I’m surprised life had made me it’s bitch … but a small voice that isn’t harmonized, that isn’t paired by another in tune … isn’t harmony … and … when did life make you so smart … ? and … made you its bitch?? as the two of you laugh at me right now fitted for plastic armor? readied for any situation … big or small … pierce with my pointy stick while wheeling atop a uni-cycle I call stead … ?? precarious, I know … but brave? to fight alone knowing it’s more than life that’s hurtful that wants to make me their bitch … ?? because … bitch-slapped. it’s easier taking down the labeled Quixote (reckless, feckless), than lance these giant demons — machines designed, sluicing the weather around us, taking our energy, harvesting our electricity to deplete good souls to short out … not grounded to any element, chained to that grist … railing with clenched fist … toppled: and there you are standing over me. I see through this visor what you intimate … what you intone … like a coward you pick on the weakest thing planted in the dirt of a machination’s shadow … you’re lucky I see you and not a windmill (that I look up and not down on you… where you say my poem should have ended … there. It never ends …) but for a small dagger life goes on without my brother. 2.24.24 I made last 3 lines its own statement than attach to the poem machine because it is the only thing that could separate, yet like throwaway lines only a fool/man would consider In post.. taking up the gauntlet ? while everyone else is saying back away from it because they can’t control me or think me a fool with it? I have no doubts Yet, labeled to make me feel reckless, feckless I hold on to it, sleep with it… not to feel safe … but the closest thing to kinship I have in this world it’s that side of myself everyone denies me access to… won’t realize or accept I live in two worlds just to feel whole in one because cowards and what do they sleep with…? WHAT HAVE I TO HIDE? Oops, I left caps on… and I’m not going to fix…cuz…??Not going to be a bitch to ML either… |
| Against a woolen sweater that was blue Thats all that I remember of you Before you learned to walk, I learned to run I guess the ants really go marching one by one When a train rolls in, the doors open, I get in Last night I had a pleasant nightmare La da da da La da da da La da da da, da da da there's an ocean formed outside my bedroom door on the sleepless nights I listen to it roar there's a road too long to walk, too steep to climb at the end of it, is what you left behind and when that train rolls in the doors open, don't get in last night I had, a pleasant nightmare La da da da La da da da La da da da, da da - Emily Kapnek transcribed R.I.P. Mike |
You're In My Way I stood in the path of a black bear twice my weight and ten times my strength. I wasn't going to run as it was twice as fast. I'd never turn my back to it. I stared and dared the thing to roughly dissect my anatomy. I screamed and yelled at the dope like it was my monster-tormentor. Before it could shred me like a woodland pup tent I woke up. I hope I see it again. I'll cover myself in bacon grease, my blue-red eyes blaring hot in a frozen white scene, bells around my neck and rocks to hurl. I want one shot at overcoming every odd to defeat this grizzly goliath. I'm more dangerous because I don't care, once I smell it's disease breath. My eyes hard close like five thousand pound, stone doors no animal will withstand or scale. You're mine, every hairy, little bit from mouth to bowels, until I no longer exhale. 12.10.23 33 lines, bean counters free f-ing verse. Title plays to both camps. It's implied meaning is up to the reader. Poem in a word -- fierce. Two more words -- death wish. You should see what I wrote before this:
whose the precious little MF when they suggest you leave the room? Dumb or not, this gift to you is my magic act. |
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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*^*
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![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!
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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)
![Merit Badge in WDC Media Prompt
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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)
![Merit Badge in Good Things Take Time
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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)
Thank you for sharing it! It's genius.