*Magnify*
◄     May     ►
2021
SMTWTFS
      
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
BY ONLINE AUTHORS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/month/5-1-2021/sort_by/entry_order DESC, entry_creation_time DESC/page/2
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
(116)
Rated: 18+ · Book · Spiritual · #1149750
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
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, a slow burn now. Life is full of misdirects right back to the start, you still quest with a thirst.

If they take time to notice, must be doing something right. Life of turmoil produces stuff like this. Not going to call it beautiful agony…it gets a bit uglier. Minced words too pungent.

scripturam in hoc non mutamus, quia stultus es et differentiam nescies.

hic honor, quem accepistis, non est operae pretium, sicut non est bonum.
*BigSmile*
si hoc legere potes, gratiarum actio pro tempore.

The beautiful mess you made.
         |
Without knowledge, who’s to judge?
         |
No gavel; no voice.

I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost
         |
I'm sorry you got caught in the middle. - me

*Neurodivergent poet.
*I yearn to love without that fart in the room.
*Honesty without mincing words.
*Stay clear of those surrounded by rules.
*Real dialogue accepted.

Diagnosed with new disabilities in 2020: On the spectrum/ADHD (it gets complicated by PTSD and brain trauma). Been suggested by doctors I might want another brain scan. As it is: 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, find boundaries, no clue why, 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.
 
"Note: Poetry: life’s little interruptions amassing int..."
 

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 t the next boob that walks by. *Clown*

Been more than I could imagine or expect. My achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall. I dig deeper than I should, push boundaries. Aimless words, brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit targets. Get a ‘back off’ shoulder shot when asking your motivations to write.

No prize to eye; not incentivized. Dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do the best with what you got.



My Pluggers:
You are an icon here.*BigSmile*
You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.{/blue}*Heart*

It’s like plugging myself, but using other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "Epigram ‘n Aphorism Samwiches"
Your poetic muse is on fire! *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. *Cool*

 
Published four times with one a literary journal, including… *PointRight*   "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.

*Toilet* *RibbonW* Merit Badge in Taboo Words [Click For More Info] Brian, Congratulations! You won 1st Place in Taboo Words with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1027659]. I absolutely loved this! *^*Heart*^* Rachel Merit Badge in Poetry [Click For More Info] 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

 
Love my process constructing and sharing visions in words collected (no small task considering personal and physical limitations, see below).


August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼

BOOK
SuperNova Afterglow: End Of Days  (18+)
All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know.
#1300042 by I Don’t Like My Name


No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼

 
What I used to say: 'Maybe, I just don't get it. Watch me fumble with my version of reality, expose ignorance as truth. You don't have to get me, either. But, wish someone would explain me to myself.' Now I say: *Cool* *FacePalm* Now: I was such a whore.
 


*Laugh*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.*RollEyes*
             



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 Best Poetry Collection on Writing.Com ▼
Previous ... 1 -2- ... Next
May 7, 2021 at 9:47am
May 7, 2021 at 9:47am
#1009821
highway of haste

         wheels spun
in determined direction
         crush all in view
on pavement.

determined vehicle
and lone occupant, me,
chew scenery together,
as memories roll with each reenactment.
different; but, the same outcome.

but, it can never be.
waysides remind me,
stop and stretch legs
from haste to escape
all left in your wake.

stop and view
in still quiet, dream.
create anew and stop
recreating the past.

be now instead of rolling
         town to town
to the stretches between.
         truly see
all you've passed
for an eternity, without
further introspection.

         Accept what's lost
on the highway of haste.


private 5.7.21
public after edit 5.14.21
re-edit 5.24.21

stop and smell the roses instead of trying to get back what you lost while ignoring the view in the moment or accepting the road you're own, the only remaining destiny.
May 7, 2021 at 9:31am
May 7, 2021 at 9:31am
#1009819
Promise blooms now.
Brightly colored hope, renewed,
bounces and wavers on thin arms
strengthening, harden
outside my portal --
a world I view and
should commune within.

Eager was a child who played
in fresh green, once white
slipped below the surface
and the glow lingered longer
upon a simple, burgeoning land.
And, she was there
to hold my hand.

But, now my hands are worn
with no gentle, guiding fingers to touch.

Blast the shaky glass
and tousle the trembling green.
Dampen the entire scene
while I'm inside, protected.
Howl if you will; I dare
not look in my heart
for strength, because

no end for this story, except
to wait it out.


5.7.21
brief edits 5.24.21

made up on spot before work. Edit or revise later.
May 7, 2021 at 9:21am
May 7, 2021 at 9:21am
#1009818
Dear Brother, sorry
I didn't write. Staring
from the ledge steals hours;
a void merges within me.
This ledge that comes before me
reveals no vista I dare follow.
Desire to fly faded when
I couldn't sprout wings in
innocence or ignorance; but
I long to venture yet, set
a world afire, just
can't rekindle the flame
inside me, even to
pick up a pen, scrawl
ink from my heart on mead.
Would spill my blood into
these cylinders, if
that could color a page
from ailing vision
from a steepening ledge
that consumes eternally.
Sorry, your brother.


5.4.21
5.7.21
5.24.21


kind of conceptualized but not fully targeted what I want to depict about how we get so lost/consumed with nothing and never keep in touch with loved ones who could fill our life with joy, if we weren't pining for something more/else that is likely unattainable.
May 3, 2021 at 5:35pm
May 3, 2021 at 5:35pm
#1009589
When reminiscing
innocence of youth,
I’m hooked by it’s exposed nails.
Resulting infections
scar a lifetime.


5.3.21

Thought I had to memorize while my phone was locked away at the psych ward.
May 3, 2021 at 6:57am
May 3, 2021 at 6:57am
#1009561
a sinking stone
needs water to process,
find bottom.

when did i become so small
i could be flung
by the ignorant young?

when i first glimpsed heaven,
you had tossed me,
forsaken by your small hand,
smooth as my cover,
tender but not as hard.

i had the most beautiful vision.
air split by my force,
no gravity for what seemed eternity.
my relativity, your passion thrust.
my potential had peaked again.

but the bend would come.
arc sudden-shaped before i
could arrive at hopeful vision.
the fall inglorious,
an imposition of fear loomed
ahead of impending fate.

and now here i have come
to meet the sediment.


5.3.21
if we're calling this a poem:
freeverse, 26 lines
5.4.21 edut

relating to an unwanted stone, with emotion and loss...still working on

"This is the time" 
May 2, 2021 at 12:08am
May 2, 2021 at 12:08am
#1009517
I cannot be held responsible for any incongruous inconsistencies. It's in my nature to waffle, because my memory does waiver and I've been known to ride a few fences in my time.
May 1, 2021 at 11:34pm
May 1, 2021 at 11:34pm
#1009515
What we salvage
I recover, won't waste
What you crudely find as refuse
I see potential, resolve
to keep you from diminishing me
by throwing out the trash.

5.1.21


Concept is to draw direct lines from relationships to the things we waste or won't save, like one person paired with another, or as simply as what we deem trash. We could have all have other purpose, other than a relationship to someone. Our purpose isn't to serve someone, or serve our own needs. It's about being a part of something, world, or whatever makes us tick. Because if we waste ourselves, we are not true. Something like that. Still working out values, relation and metaphoric ability of this word 'salvage' both in function and expression. Do even know what I'm talking about yet?

We'll see...

https://renew.org.au/renew-magazine/diy/salvage-it-top-ten-waste-items-to-recove...
https://www.familyhandyman.com/list/incredible-uses-for-things-you-normally-toss...
https://www.marineinsight.com/maritime-law/laws-of-salvage-10-things-you-must-kn...
https://macjames.ca/2019/12/five-interesting-facts-about-car-history-you-might-n...

okay, i'm tired of this research already...
May 1, 2021 at 4:42pm
May 1, 2021 at 4:42pm
#1009491
It’s perfect irony
so many years beautiful to you
         I learn to sing the sweetest harmony
         only now to discover the mirror
         and time lost
         as my face grows dark.

It’s what I deserve,
I tell myself,
because I can’t accept
         there is no reason,
         while seeking truth
         and meaning in everything
to have semblance of balance.

Accept that life is random?
         in a perfect realm
         spinning about cylindrical fire?
measuring hours
and days evenly until I die,
         which I hadn’t though much about
until now?

I discover a voice weakening
in this inevitable cage of earth.
         Purpose long lost rusts.
         Life doesn’t come back
for its youth.


5.1.21
25 lines unmeasured free verse

hah! balance, take that!
May 1, 2021 at 4:33pm
May 1, 2021 at 4:33pm
#1009490
I have more hours.
perhaps I can employ faith,
if blessings do exist and hope
is either in here or out there.

what divines serendipity
for one so blind? except
to stumble through a beautiful world
as if its vistas dim, unlit.

a beautiful sun burns hard --
harder for fools like me.

5.1.21

29 Entries · *Magnify*
Page of 2 · 20 per page   < >
Previous ... 1 -2- ... Next

© Copyright 2024 I Don’t Like My Name (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
I Don’t Like My Name has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/month/5-1-2021/sort_by/entry_order DESC, entry_creation_time DESC/page/2