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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/month/3-1-2021
by Brian
Rated: 13+ · Book · Writing.Com · #1149750
A new decade of musings from poetry to what inspires; casting words like seed worldwide.
I've read poetry that opened my eyes, realize now mine have been closed when I write.

The drive north is easier than south in summer.

If you only write when inspired, you may be a fairly decent poet, but you'll never be a novelist. -NEIL GAIMAN

And here I am

A new start for an old blog -- replaced by "SuperNova Afterglow: Shining Brighter, now at capacity as of 2018, focused on specific writing projects and goals:

SuperNova Afterglow: Shining Brighter  (13+)
I shine now, though the laws of physics cannot explain reversal for a former dwarf star.
#1300042 by Brian

Having no specific aim going forward...

I've hammered away at this glass with forefinger since resurrecting in 2014. I'm always ready to say too weary. Compulsion compels me, instigation informs, and still here I am...bright, full of light and dark, revealing hidden colors and shapes. That was before...
I hear what you are saying...but especiallly...what you are not.
Yes, I struggle. But I'm getting through it. How are you?

I've gone by other aliases. People remind me of that. Sometimes restrained, it's hard to understand what I write. It will be clear some day. Hard to hide what's in my heart. I'm making no apologies going forward for my feelings. Not interested in the trap of stereotypes. Not sure how we'll feel about that.

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 that I've figured out the ever changing rules of your game, you take the ball away, no longer engage me to play. You pay a price for this kind of friendship. I lose, I guess.

"A War Of Youth "Prose And Dead Men

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March 31, 2021 at 8:23am
March 31, 2021 at 8:23am
Merit Badge in Taboo Words
[Click For More Info]


Congratulations! You won 1st Place in March's  [Link To Item #2139468]  with your fabulous poem, [Link to Book Entry #1007377].

Rachel *^*Heartv*^*

From the hillside,
when I tired of staring at dreams
escaping into the horizon,
I sensed your presence

Back to the footpath, you follow
silent along the edge
until I wedge within wood
to stare up at my ghost

Daunting you haunt,
hunt souls like me who dare dream

You merge with growing darkness,
only thin matter woven into shapes forming,
unfurling, reforming,
hoping to encase me

Trapped in my mind with dimming hopes,
I take solace, recreate
the essence of angels in words
that reside, winged

like you, hide inside
the soiled heart of gray matter
Do you devour spirits, too?

Iā€™m in my woods nightly
on the edge,
dreaming of courage to run
before your shapes fall

on me

26 lines, freeverse
For Taboo Words
March 31, 2021 at 1:22am
March 31, 2021 at 1:22am
Flashes uncaptured
Soundless reminders
I can feel
Touch my core

Two hands about your waist
Into shadows
Into howls

Raining molecules
Dust my eyes
Unexpected dreams
Madness revisited

I had you
Wish I tasted you
Cannot savor

Your power
Grips me now

3.31.21 edit tomorrow

March 31, 2021 at 12:14am
March 31, 2021 at 12:14am

Burning light
wading deep into night to search

Is there another road I missed?

Burning oxygen
inhaling deep into pale lungs

Will I ever get my breath back?

I meant to sing as I journeyed
so you would find me

If white hadn't turned black

If I had just learned to breathe

Dusty journey beckons me back
to leave the dream of you.


New line breaks and end 4.8.21
March 28, 2021 at 11:49pm
March 28, 2021 at 11:49pm
My fingers linger over the black and white
with dulcimer dreams

flashes of sound burst
from a reckless whirlwind,
full of power and ignorance
for over an hour,
tousling a landscape, but
would calm
in straight striations striking
chimes beneath your window --
a beckon to come play

and you did.

I still fondly remember that day.
If I could just inhale again,
but lack the discipline
and instrument.

5.1.21 ed.

I tried to write another after an inspired poem, and here it lies...will lay.
March 28, 2021 at 11:19pm
March 28, 2021 at 11:19pm
We are ships
in this strange ocean.
Our passages mark time.
As fingers scrawl calm waters,
we make our own waves;
ripples reaching tides,
idle land and the sterns
of other steely keels
slow-rusting from ballasts ā€”
our bilge cast, though
we hope viewers only spy
our silent majesty ā€”
silhouettes now in night.

I tip my cap to you,
my captain.
A golden sea shimmers for thee,
reaches to me ā€”
no bergs do I envision
on a glass ride
to the next horizon.

5.1.21 edited

Inspired by KĆ„re Enga, P.O. 22, Blogville who commented on "the blue markings.
March 21, 2021 at 2:02am
March 21, 2021 at 2:02am

A War Of Youth

When he scooped you up from the earth ā€”
carried you
to the speeding car that brought you down
to the gulch ā€”
dutiful bees stung the small flesh
as he realized a 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 black top ā€”
when I heard his true love in wails
echo above stubborn birch, pine and hardwood
with every aware animal to witness

at seven, I was lead to believe
he loved a small, bloody boy more,
who lay whimpering in clover
with the yellow and black and
a fractured leg to be set.
glowing white angels would bathe and tend
to contusions and abrasions,
cheer that freckled chin,

as I in the corner
with a toy for distraction
if hurt myself,
would he love me as much or more?

30 lines

4.8.21 new edits
March 21, 2021 at 1:45am
March 21, 2021 at 1:45am
Dark Clouds

You follow silent along the edge
until I wedge within wood
to stare up at my ghost

daunting you haunt
even hunt souls like me

you could merge with growing darkness
only thin matter
woven into shapes forming dreams
hoping to encase me,
where Iā€™m trapped,
in my mind with my dimming hopes
to recreate
even the essence of angels
who reside, white
hide inside the soiled heart of you

do you devour them too?

Iā€™m in my woods
on the edge
getting the courage to run
before your fallen

March 21, 2021 at 1:32am
March 21, 2021 at 1:32am
The rivers run
draining and purging
from Winter's restraint
Cold nights weathered
sequestered alone
before doors open up
All fires belong to the sun
as we forget
because the hard earth yields
colors, life
and a reason for the pent up soul
to regret lost time --
to run hard
into your arms

March 21, 2021 at 1:27am
March 21, 2021 at 1:27am
I had it
and you
Just a moment longer
beneath the stars
whatever weather
wherever you are

I had it

Didnā€™t I?

I saw the reflection of galaxies
in your eyes
polarizing around one lonely soul
In orbit
magically carried an eternity
in one moment

gone forever

Didnā€™t I
have you?

Now Iā€™m not so sure
and the heavens seem
very far


Girls like Bethany should know the ability to be an eternal muse is but a moment

Sheā€™ll never read this...
March 14, 2021 at 11:28pm
March 14, 2021 at 11:28pm
When you can inhale
first fresh air without narrowing lungs,
frozen amid gales,
I squeeze the tender hand
warming my digits
in the thaw, streaming,
gleaming in the barely dim.

Nostrils filter freed soil returning
from the soiled, soft banks
fleeing like black icees drained,
descending in pointed,
paper cups -- just as
winter candles when wax wicks
droop, seep beneath the ground.

I long for seasonable color,
but the eternal light
of a once tender soul
ignites a spectrum of revision.
All seasons start and end,
even without us.


Envisioning glints of former memories in this brief season...inhaling what essence remains through whatever negative capability.
March 14, 2021 at 4:06pm
March 14, 2021 at 4:06pm
Purposed Fool
For you, me or who?

Chained to the machine
in your dim light,
fingers bleed
amid yearning of words
coalescing, dreaming...

spun in vain,

miss the mark,

your lover's lust, again.

Chained to a horizon
burning, blinding,
I blister, bleed
all the more
with desire to earn
rapture, your touch;
so I could ascend




I could drink love,
my own blood
like a fire in my veins,
unquenched, again, but

I have a new drug,



5.1.21 edited, unsure of the initial intent/inspiration and trying to make cohesive and clear, but feel lost as yet.
March 14, 2021 at 3:43pm
March 14, 2021 at 3:43pm
Your cryptic words
(though unintended)
do not unbalance my soul.
Your odd approach
does not cause my neck cock,
crane only to see
the next page
in unfulfilling eternity,

I hear your knock.

Uneven door raps
(your offerings left)
before you run off.
The gift of you, unsavored,
I do not quest or quench.
I'm sorry if
you've heard this before.
Thankful still, but
obligation is no longer
our arrangement.

5.1.21 ed.
March 14, 2021 at 3:00pm
March 14, 2021 at 3:00pm
"Can only imagine it's about mindfulness. If we are not consumed with distractions and sensations, we are closer to centered and spiritual, self-fulfilling truth."

Heart beating quicker,
Breath yearning harmony,
Shallow settles
Into inner vision, beauty --
The soul of you
         Recalling --
Warm rays penetrating
Our cotton
Where we laid.
Your eyes absorbed the blue
Of two spirits dawning
         My heart slowing
Yearn your sighs,
Deep encouragement

Our inner vision, beauty --
The spirit of two

Warm rays reprise
Soon after sunrise, daily --
Dawning on one soul
         A heart aching alone
For your deep encouraging
Tender lips once again.


March 14, 2021 at 2:54pm
March 14, 2021 at 2:54pm
True how the sun rises
its equatorial, western disdain,
smudged more --
yet, geese strain
voices this spring again
while all the world supposedly changed --

life unbalanced spun
on a perpetual plane --

I see your colors change
but do not match the skies
I surmise,
seeking new tones not yet attained
I see you and hear you
not the same --
but the peepers sing,
cricketsā€™ clarity still a-hum
night long again --

and when I close my eyes
itā€™s only dirt I wake to see

my ears are another thing.


Focus for this poem is on 'tones' and its duality (sight and sound).
March 8, 2021 at 8:55pm
March 8, 2021 at 8:55pm
You know
itā€™s over
I donā€™t go to the hall to seek you
in the connected rooms knowing
you long ago went
even though
I had wanted to glimpse you again
idling before me
even if
silent or maybe
with just a word of encouragement

you know itā€™s over
when the wonder is no more
when a view out any window is fine
because nothing leads to a sliding door
one moment in time that could ripple open
because we did not defy odds
and I must turn to my final destination
I do not wish to walk.


The part that been holding on like waiting forced to leave the past and any foolish memory behind.
March 8, 2021 at 8:53pm
March 8, 2021 at 8:53pm
Your words like gravity hover
above my head
your eyes like lead embolden
the gaze holding
staring through brightest sunlight only
obscured when I look to
images like the night
black ink matching stains on
my heart in bracken
your body like monuments precarious
hovers like falling
shadow a soul doused in
black particles that make me
to all who approach and dare discover
rubble beneath gleaming but
I love you


March 8, 2021 at 8:52pm
March 8, 2021 at 8:52pm
Another Day

A heart regulated by sound spun
Beneath a needle plying vinyl
Skating through grooves
Vibrated life into near-dead flesh

The narrow red railways soft
Beneath a hammer hovering glass
Sailed through waves
Splashing life into near-dead flesh

The wide blue byways crush
Beneath a body plying cotton
Still through night
Praying life into near-dead flesh

The hollow black nothingness thin
As a vapor before sunrise
Just another day to replay

March 6, 2021 at 7:53am
March 6, 2021 at 7:53am
My desire to sing to you
romantically, wistfully,
beautifully a tune I know
all too well
         bittersweetly longing
to coalesce our spirits
         but cannot
grasp, fathom
the words
to recitate, elucidate

my head lowing,
longing for you
sing the melody
to me

I'll learn, yearn
to know it
like you.


March 5, 2021 at 12:51am
March 5, 2021 at 12:51am
The dagger
dripping with poison
drips black from the pen
you filled last night
exacted your revenge
on an ignorant lamb
who didn't intend...
but you knew what you were doing

I'll hand you the revolver
it's quicker, humane
to drain a bullet
from the chamb
directly into my brain
sparing five others for the cows

Do you kill for sport?
How do you eat?
unless I'm the buffet

Dine Well

March 5, 2021 at 12:26am
March 5, 2021 at 12:26am
had to wait
then showers          late
would abate
now sun          now, now
no horse, no plow

Early Summer was good
I did what I could
to help you rise
         I surmise
You already had
your burial          unceremonious
Perhaps, the season cried


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