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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 ▼ |
| Poetry and publishing are like how I love fishing, but clueless where to drop a line in the water. I could get pretty skilled at it, if I find some places. I could ask around where to fish, but many won’t reveal their secret hole. Or, just no good advice out there. Or, so far removed from the best places to fish, you get stuck hauling sunfish/bluegill not big enough… to scale, bone, cut up…to eat. Slightly bigger than your bait, you could still haul one worthy to take home. It’s the excitement of prepping, setting your pole to reel one in, and tender wait on a temperate day, when trees shimmy turbulent leaves, yellow, green, yellow, green and the blue fades into white billows sketched on dappled glass that teases just enough to get you to grasp and tighten that light line a bit before…reel back, cast and set again. A red float happily bobble-spin dances before a little back and forth and round and down, and the game begins! Hope she’s a beauty. The One. A dream. Did I just make a poem out of that? Day 4: "The Bard's Hall Contest" 6.8.22 "Note: Revised and retitled poem [Link to Book Entry #1..." |
| They found your love, hit the target. I could not get within range. So rare, other worldly, I connect as dust to aria aura that bleeds melancholy. On tides I ride our ocean apart. Your Castles rise beyond my eyes, Where empty I find myself With warbled words harmonious, Tracing the signature of my core, A soul of rubble, rebuilding with hope I could be as strong as I ever was. You do not know you hold my hand In this strange, beguiling land. In waves of rhythms, I flow further From where I’ve been, visualize How my love could hit your target. Heightened senses reel, knowing What we share in your Castles. With aim true, my slender words would echo: (after my golden arrow struck) to revel in your love…to revel in your love… 6.10.22 Aim seems a theme with me lately. Thank you Freya, newly discovered Titian-haired goddess of song, with apparent genetic markers akin, resonating in a captured boy’s disconnected soul. |
| The switch is faulty, wiring exposed, laminate peeling, but copper-strong. Ready to ignite a feeling if you flip. If you flip, I’ll light all you dream. I could be everything I want to be, illuminate our way. But, you fear electricity, drawn to a wall, dull. Vibrant paint time peeled away. The hall is dark, where we two sway. Maybe, light will find us another way. I’ll sing for you, if you have no song. 6.6.22 12.30.22 edit |
I’m a bard, essentially, so my poetry blog is dedicated to:
for June 2022. In Love With A Cactus I’m in love with a cactus, that took so long to flower before my eyes in this dry, jailed heat that releases my tears, lifting to feed the hungry air shared. A clean sun bakes us in dusted kiln, apart, glazing with fear to touch your skin. Will I bleed? Will you need me love again, harder, deeper, impale my love on stoic arms of nails? I’m in a canyon, scaled down a lifetime to reach, to near your precious core. Why do I question anymore? Seasons beneath each pale moon rush past, silent stealth gone before I rise. My eyes crust and crack open, long for any tender touch to wake. The days had just begun, soared, nearing in this descent. No other use for these ailing arms, knowing I must squeeze with all my strength. Breath vacates deflated lungs. When young, had I seized the chance, I’d climb. Good for you that I fear falling, our story with no arc or acts — just brilliant, magnetic curtains stars pierce, gases fueling a radiant sundown. 6.2.22 6.6.22 edit Screw stanzas, line breaks. Keep your nose to the grindstone, pry for meaning. Hmm. |
| I wrote it all down, what I would do In this afterlife, formerly hopeful, As if I could dream again In an empty garden. Let’s start From the soul, plant things From a dry brain, drained. I’d learn guitar, sing verses To ignorant trees, Words fly to the pale blue, And dark, forming clouds. I would construct these verses, yearning returning love. Connection is what I lack To the living things, having not Been mindful. In a house I don’t properly take care of, She won’t let me sell. I’d consolidate a collection Of dusty belongings, move To a temporary, transitive residence, Consider a new vehicle And begin a leisurely life of travel On my own Route 66. 6.5ish Edited 6.10.22 Guess I’ll not add, end list. |
| I could devote my life to something. It hands me a cookie. My heart’s not in it, as I chew. What I temporarily savor Does not sate craving. It’s confusing. Am I chasing What I want? Do I need To win a rejecting fire To cool. My oxygen Is it’s hunger. Might feel warm — Get too close, burned. I could save the world Before myself, sacrificing All I ever dreamed, want, Which I tired of chasing. Oh, look! Another cookie. I clutched handfuls in youth. What was I doing, needing The likes of you, rejectors, My tempting confectioners? 5.29.22 Something I started without knowing where I was going, thinking about culture grafting sections of dystopian fiction to f with minds…work, social platforms and other gathering places. When are robots redacting uprisers who haven’t tired like me? Seek but fail at perfection; this will have to do for now. |
| What you call Wounds I call experience That in due time, when you cease bleeding — that Seems to make you rush, Flush with Rage judgment — Hold yourself, if none will Touch, Bar you from loathing Whatever you must, Before you stream down A river of life, bypass every tributary, Every entreating eye brightened By your gleam. Winter Will freeze. Slow, Before clouds claim back Borrowed tears. 5.25.22 6.26.22 major add, edit, out of private, still needing work, trying to turn it into something as if by accident |
why do you make me shine? Beneath this glass, molecules relocating by every twitch, touch I ripple within, disturbed by what I can inhale, ingest, take into my lungs. Something described from your lips as love -- trust that I won’t drown. In a bath for one, dark shrouds, sunrise clouds. Does it go down? Buoyant so long, I dare not dive. Always felt you, and you, and a world at my side, glowing just bright enough to hide. I confide, I waded in, heard pleas, followed dreams of visages of you. Faulty DNA or something got me in a mess I cannot address As the moon rises, gleams an eye, one blue will always be dry. Deeper in the glass, shine, sing your warbled song so strong ears could bleed. Thicken a bath pooled red, where standing in dread realize I was never drowning. Might think I’m clowning. Never more serious, knowing I can leave this hollow pond, find dry wood and in grass, settle down. Luna could vaporize a soul, I imagine. Do we really have time for this now? I’m out of my bath and sober. Have longed to hear a beautiful voice lonely as mine. Why do you make me shine? 6.1.22 6.23.22 edited Am I a romantic trapped in a clown’s makeup. Must be confusing. I know. |
We've been beside the gulch, eager to climb a wooded bluff. Obstacles below and high got in my eye. But, I could see you by my side. Right now, I'm pressed to a thick pane of a steel train gliding flat through a soothing plane. You, with your book enjoyed, I, with liquor I've longed to try, subside. Rolling, a bump or two reminds you to look up, catch a blue gleam. Restful, on a long journey to the other side. I wonder if we'll part before destination. I see a billow, pale sky. No answer. We've been deeper before. We've been high, eye to eye. Nothing in our way now, descending. I see clearly you here with me now. Gliding down a lonesome track, I won't look back. You smile and I realize the climax satisfies. Foam on creamy glass dries. Rolling, I'm reminded of a blue gleam. Restful on the other side, I wonder if my destination soon arrives. Do I dare wonder if any will cry? One view cherished an entire ride. 5.28.22 original title was going to be "Why Do I Do This?" Yeah, I don't know either. Funny, memory. Sad, inspiration fleeting. |
| They’re all Eve. If wrong for you, It must be right. Oh, they know. That’s what makes it so good? Must I act depraved, too? Forbidden? Like poison, and antidote, ingest me. Take quickly, skirt back on. I’ll kiss that lovely frown. Then, Walk your shame through the center Of the unsuspecting town, project Every judging look, as knowing A woman with no self-respect Crawls out of her bed, into my window, Surrenders at night, never Putting up a fight. Like an apple, Bitten to her core, poisoned pleasure, Call her dirty names. She loves it more. I’m her poison now. A man of deceit Who does not cheat, just lonely. Does not tell her no sin was committed — That not a soul stares back to glare At a woman who wants to steal and got A good man for a bargain. She would leave For something cheaper, she calls golden… If she knew. Haven’t saved her, or myself. “Sooner or later in life the things you love you’ll lose.” 5.25.22 Made up to Poison, F Ridings, knowing we don’t value something if it doesn’t question our morality. |
| Still in progress… He lies in the tub in his clothes In the dark when I dare knock, Fearing to ask when I can brush my teeth. He decided vodka tastes best straight from bottle, Learning how to numb, bathe In moon glow, sleep with tv on (sometimes Until dawn) in a makeshift bedroom, dusty, spider-infested, next to that creepy boiler in our basement. I wondered how long a soak could last in tee and underpants. Told not to worry, but worry during this phase of dysphoria. She wasn’t caught early enough. He wants to emerge before 18. Can’t wait too long — even if I hide liquor — nothing is strong enough To stop self-hate until he’s a man. 5.20.22 I love you Myles! I’m coming. If I only knew how to save you from my own ignorance. |
| I don’t look crippled. You walk past. Blind, I don’t look lost. No cane, shades. You walk on past. I don’t wear my wounds On the outside. You don’t see Inside my soul. You, angel, have love For somebody. Not me. I could block your path, plead. My words mean nothing Visually. I’m a weathered soul, Bleeding within, blind from journey, Not knowing where to go. Frozen, can’t traverse another avenue, Without you to help me cross. Dear angel, I’m dying. You’re flying Leagues above me. Don’t know The true s*rr*w that I Can’t express in distress. I’ll manage. Walk on by. 5.20.22 |
| Winged girl could worry for me, Doesn’t see inside a container, Deceptively cool, acts a child, Reliving happiness when her hands Fussed with his Sunday outfit, Brushed the blond shock of hair -- A wild boy aiming fiery blues Contrasting crimson cheeks. Winged beauty full of tender notes, Navigates air out of reach. No plea will she hear from me, Aged and remiss for life not lived, Regaining focus inside a beast, Devouring every second like Molecules, disintegrating. I'm not the savage, you know. 5.18.22 |
| On a dust plain, you see heat rise, distort dry fauna fading green. Bones ache, but your blooms distract, help me heal in precious, amber light. In porch shade we rock, glide side by side in silence all these years. A moment arrives so perfect, I kiss you, passionately, again, feel the cicadas unrest and tremor. We could strip to salt flesh I long to devour. You stand to refill our lemonade. My hand brushes the tender underside of your boot cut denim. Not long is dinner, sunset in Sedona. We will afford the loss of sunrise. Cayenne canyon of soaring rock fences us willingly within. No taste for dinner but soft cotton. Aroma of sandalwood encircles cooling limbs entwined. I feel beating beneath breathing and hold the tender core like a baby. Thankful, all these years absorbing color of sunrises and the view across a shared room. You could be a memory, constant in dreams, my soul’s red canyon. "The Tender Core (Sedona)" War Of Youth When he scooped you from the earth, carried you to the speeding car that brought you down to the gulch where dutiful bees stung the small flesh, he realized war again — nothing like he ever fought but was prepared for. meanwhile, I obsessively plucked petals from white daisies, blissful, unaware how brutal life could be until rubber complained to the hot blacktop — when I heard his true love in wails echo above stubborn birch, pine and hardwood that every aware animal could witness. at seven, I believed he loved a small, bloody boy more, whimpering in clover with the yellow and black, and fractured leg to set. glowing white angels would bathe and tend contusions and abrasions, cheer a freckled chin. in my designated corner, a toy for distraction did not deter wonder — if I hurt myself, would he love me more? "A War Of Youth " Prose and Dead Men Tiger-striped flannel and matching ball cap, if slid askew, would remind you of the old man sitting on the tailgate of his blue Ford, sheltered amid flocked customers and other vegetable growers. Cracking wise in the corner parking lot of the local farmer’s market, his hat true, angled in the locked position. A habit I suppose from serving in military. Big John missed death as a sentry in Guam by just one hour, relieved of post before another throat slit, some nameless brother in arms. A story you were not privy until a man. I scribble these musings in secret journals -- hollow words spun from a corner booth for hours at mic’ed readings where no one peruses the printed commitments amid pregnant pauses. My endless voice scratchings echo an arena choked, with tears in my eyes not for him but some liberal heart bleeding, pleading actualize the purpose of my prose. "Prose And Dead Men" |
| Isn't enough to sit, and just listen? What I learn, voiceless, I long to belong to something that does not wish to reciprocate. I long to remember the purpose of this aching container in a maze of avenues I once knew. It's all new, or are the maps spun so a boy cannot find home? Isn't enough to watch a parade pass me by, ignore yearning to participate, sound a horn for loving spectators, when it's just a spectacle I'm viewing. Lost in a crowd of strangers, the strangest of all acts like a fool, wanting. When the street hides in black, snow gently falling, I wander out to find youth. Memory of where I've been suddenly becomes true. And because you haven't learned the secret of a pale moon hovering my cold avenue, ears connected to a heart hear again without the din of you. 5.14.22 as is, for now |
| I witnessed you at your round table; your eyes and slight curvature called smile addressed me (without word) as if to say I know everything. But, what I now realize: Satan acting like Jesus, protected by an ever changing cast of apostles until you are ash. In future time, I’ll witness that empty table to possess and order service for one. No glass will raise. Just a simple supper and feint recollection of indifference. Quill Nominated Best Poetry Collection two consecutive years, 2020 and 2021. |
My noise: just disturbance to you, distraction from what’s more important, needs attention. But, wait! They don’t love you like I love you. My noise, you’ve been canceling, lives for you. Wait… White noise, you press the snooze on me, sleep, as muffled walls absorb my story. 5.12.22 If it’s the last words you’ll hear, hope then, loudest…if not, best. |
| Hand Wash Only (Gentle) With delicate cycle selected, trusted to a fine fabric, I fell into a wash with you. Turbulent times have been sometimes torn, always mended, but never the same as before. I slipped in this bath with you. Soft cells sluffed away, sent to a hungry drain eager for more of our skin. Turbulent it could seem, memory washing from life. With delicate cycle selected, let a fine fabric spin, again. I cling to you, just as you have clung, sometimes separate to inhale tender fragrance. Dry, we reassemble folded, another day adorned, softly worn. 5.12.22 5.14.22 two lines added 6.20.22 last stanza added 20 lines, free verse For your consideration, edited anew this month: Did not place in top 5 of Shadows and Light (Round 109) |
| Amid love’s lonely and austere offices — reserved for you, giddiness of a child restrained. yet, a heart would chase: red tendril tresses flowing behind your form, lay gently down your ruffled blouse, pleated summer skirt in a wild weed, yellow sanctuary. Vibrant blue vistas gaze upon me, unhesitant pursue a boy, lonely and austere listening to release of those tender notes from coiled lips' charm. Youth lost years ago revived, longs lay beneath the red tendril tresses, a canopy for our shadowed love. Restrain my giddiness -- hollow -- yet pursue reservedly an echo. Vibrant essence, a tempting harmony, lingers like channels to caverns, inside castles of everlasting youth. Release those coiled lips with charm, framed by your hovering form. A boy lays longingly in our wild weed. 5.12.22 many revisions in private until public on: 5.14.22 Who is Freya? Read the rest of this blog. I also borrowed one line from a famous poem, also previously mentioned in blog, I think? |
| what should I write next? do you dare my muse compare, respond to the core of you standing over, shadowing someone who has yet to stand up, compare to the size of you? I played your game; you ignore mine. that's fine. don't have time to learn rules forced upon me, not convenient to some like you, who abuses any structural thing. what should I do next? Should I dare mess with this muse and likes of you, someone who doesn't respond, indifferent, never reacting to a game of my words that could send you down? I'll have a few things to say before you open that mouth. I'm prepared. Be afraid, or find someone else to fuck with, unless there's no one else? I guess, no more games. 5.11.22 5.14.22 last edit yes, all these words written in haste one day that you collect, pretend not notice, to throw back in my face, when I smile, because I know I got to you. I could love you like no other, yet wonder, who's more afraid. |
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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)
![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)
— 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 
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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)
![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)
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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 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)
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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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Congratulations to our 1st Runner Up of [Link To Item #2254385] Round6.](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Accuracy.gif)
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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)
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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)
Thank you for sharing it! It's genius.
