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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/blog/ripglaedr3/day/10-14-2023
Rated: 18+ · Book · Spiritual · #1149750
A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery.
...white-hot coruscating genius that more than once dipped its proverbial toes in the obscure.
https://ew.com/recap/community-season-3-episode-16-inception/




T̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ Ab̴̦̄̈͐̾̑̚͝s̸͉̻̃͘ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̰̅ͅcě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆ o̷͍̥̣̺͋f̶̭̱̘͇͊͋̾̋̄͆ Wa̴͙͓̓̕vě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆l̵̩̘̯̪͋͒͒̉͒̄ě̸̗͓̱̺̮̣̽͆n̴̝͚͎͔̘̅ͅg̸̫͙̻̭͐͝ț̴̵̢̝̗̰̪̠̹̈́͌͆̑͋͂̅͗̾̾h̵̥͉̲̠̍̽͛̌͂̆̚            


You get hungry as a seldom published author/poet/lyricist, so quit pedaling words and just enjoy the writing process. The bullshit ‘process’ of submitting is submission.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My *Basketball* goes through —   R S = 2 G M c 2

*StarfishY* ~~~*Fishing*~~~*FishB*~~~*Beach*~~~*Swimming*~~~*Sailing*~~~*TrophyG* *Stop* *Fork* ————————- .

How I see myself create…in the zone
Curry Flurry:

Writing

The beautiful mess made:
I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost

         |
I'm sorry you got caught in the middle. - me

Neurodivergent poet

 
"Note: Poetry: life’s little interruptions amassing int..."
 

Best Poetry Collection Been more than I could imagine or expect here.
Why Mail It In? In Latin

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


And other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "The Absence of Wavelength"
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—too much work with ADHD, OCD, low vision in condensate in mental prison of failing memory. I’ve seen a lot of smoldering and snow. Cynicism bred, work hard at openness and consideration.

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

 
18+ Comment: Love my process constructing and sharing visions in words collected (fuck limitations).

I'm Godzilla
August 28, 2006 this blog opened

BOOK
SuperNova Afterglow  (18+)
All that remains: in afterlife as 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. 20k views
#1300042 by ~ Brian K Compton ~


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.
 



             



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 #lyrics #music #video #YouTube #awardwinning

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

Sig for nominees
October 14, 2023 at 10:25pm
October 14, 2023 at 10:25pm
#1057417
I tossed the red ball on the tide;
joy envisioned
         how excited it jittered
           on small white caps
   — smooth-riding shallow
gloss brown glass —
  flow departing with a warm
‘here you go’, and rejoined.

Except, loss felt
alone at our beach.
Love was a game
of keep away
every time I neared.
A tongue stuck out
while you sneered.

I had to make my own games,
own rules, stayed
on shores of time.
You hid amid sunbathers,
swimmers, trusted lifeguards —
only your lovely voice
played amid saintly clouds.

My skin warms by charm of a sun
now leaving. My game
clutched at a salt sea scene
heaving. This
isolated divergence leaves me
somber for you
  ~ and the only game ~
you ever knew.

Coda
I own the red ball —
not you.
And don’t be afraid
to lose

like I’ve lost — because
I had to.

10.14.23
12.9.23 edit for stronger sensory/imagry/clarity of message.

37 lines free erse

Formerly titled: The Only Game
Submitted to Shadows & Light 11-2023
Merit Badge in Shadows and Light
[Click For More Info]

Brian,

Congratulations for winning 3rd Place in  [Link To Item #shadows]  with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1057417].

Rachel



Great source of musical inspiration with truth and grace.
October 14, 2023 at 11:50am
October 14, 2023 at 11:50am
#1057376
…the strangest, most wonderful

Each memory merged
a whirlpool, swirling.
Submerged snapshots’
expansion dissipatings
dim-bled beneath, before
resurfacing reborn, gasping.
                   |
Time-collapsed-vision,
(Image of bicycle pump/respirator/ambu-bag)
reawakened scrambled recollective
through the thick portal.
                   |
Quantum strings plucked,
produce pleasing sound,
amplify by vibrating vision.
                   |
Overlapping assortment
of forgotten photos, filaments
forever fast flipping failings
upon ponderous projections
of past, present and predictable,
changeable outcomes flowering
a fading verdant scene’s exfoliation.
                   |
Purged promises bloom
inside hollow words to rake
piled collectives to curbs.
                   |
wind —  space —   time —  relapse
                   |

how long was that? Eyes
shutter, collapse in moments
foggily framed  — delay
—  delay, repeat  —
repeat, re-emerge
         awake.  Fumble and struggle
to straighten from saddled weight
sunken in
the green recliner outpost, rake
         after a warm cup
and something to eat. ~ *LeafY* ~

I had the strangest, most wonderful…deja vu
| / _

10.14.23
Might still be working on; I might still be incepting.

coherence fills gaps of flimsy truths of time witnessed/unprocessed, lying on the surface of cluttered memory, acting out hope-fueled fantasy inside carefully hidden but revealed dreams in dramatized seasonal sequences (virtually and viscerally re-enacted) but fall short like this sentence.

Like this sentence? Deja vu acts as a second chance you only had in the first place if you can recall future memory.
It’s a brain hiccup, dude.
You’re fooling yourself to believe this…now…or anything will ever matter. It’s the icicle stabbing that melts over and over again in your…
Heart?
…ass.

When you wake, you’ll read this again, as if for the first time.

Dude, stop lifting your brain! You’ll hurt your…
medulla oblongata?
…neck

When will I merge two virtual realities without skidding over the surface of time
and snap something other than a bunch of random, grainy shots?
Feel as worthless as I do…in this theatre?

Def not you…it’s me?

If roles reversed…nah, math never changes.
Don’t even reach for that sliding door.
We’re trapped in here together…

until….

and I know a sentence fragment and a sentence don’t need a semi-colon, but have you ever fused conversational tone with dramatic narrative to adhere fractured, schizoid voices into one consciousness? Do you hear yourself and other’s reactions before you unhinge your jaw to utter?

Think about what you’re gonna say before you speak.
Thanks, dad. (One of the many in a cast of characters that shoved themselves up inside this jug. Before I realized I didn’t have to, it was a turnstile. You want to be a piece of the collective consciousness that becomes my brain’s tumor I now aggressively cut and paste into viewable formats. Go on, Charlie Kaufman. Try to beat my metta mind melds.

I think an edit with fresh eyes will be in order after two hours of my back into it…the giant green cradle.

There are spaces between spaces undiscovered, the incipient void…my horror vaccui…its Wikipedia article since removed is irony, is how I view this ongoing experience I’ll call experimental after it all meets the trash.

Another acceptable poem introduction:

Truth is fleeting. Catch it while it falls.
           |
           |
         *Leafy*          Nope. Try again.
           |
           |
         *LeafO*          Close. Nice try. Keep at it.

Purpose is found, as meaning is lost.
----------------------------------------------------
on 8.26.24

"Re: EIGHT - 08.08.24"  


© Copyright 2024 ~ Brian K Compton ~ (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
~ Brian K Compton ~ 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/day/10-14-2023