...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.
I hear what you’re saying, and…SMH
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My goes through — R S = 2 G M c 2
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How I see myself create…in the zone
Curry Flurry: ▼
Writing ▼: Like one of those adventure games—you quest in many directions—don’t advance in the now, in life. Not much illumes experienced words in failed pursuits, while self-correcting, give another go like a kid at an amusement park knowing time is running out. Life misdirects, you go back to start, yet quest again—thirst—hunger, undeterred. The game IS in you. Park open 24/7.
Words collected, diced up for hopeful, hardy stew to hopefully share. Yet, minced words…pungent. Arduous process, hunting, gathering, preparing a feast eventually laid out. Appease? Lay the whole of you on their table? Insult, this offering? Yearning, find one who’ll partake, break bread in that sought communion? Fill with kinship, with loyal love for others who find good company here.
The beautiful mess made:
I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost
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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 takes on what’s ‘truth’ (here’s some oven mitts). Best to stay clear of those surrounded by moat rules (not my attempt to disrespect, shame or shun. Just doin' me, which has come with its price [I've accepted.])..
Real dialogue 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 reward that allowed me to grow and learn who/what I am — what other people get naturally, immediately, as I stomp around in it.
Been blessed, but pushing it — envelope, world, 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 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.
{dropnote:"Not the same as what I write now, more of a traditional flavor"}
ASIN: B006PUZY78 |
Product Type: Kindle Store
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Amazon's Price: Price N/A
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"Note: Poetry: life’s little interruptions amassing int..."
Best Poetry Collection ▼ 2X, nominated three years straight. I was enjoying myself, head bagged. A happy idiot. Sabotaged it, apparently. No coward; not starting feuds or wars over ideals and beliefs. Know pile of crap packaged with dreams of pretty things to sell the next boob that walks by.
Been more than I could imagine or expect here.
Why Mail It In? In Latin ▼ scripturam in hoc non mutamus, quia stultus es et differentiam nescies.
Examples of excellence in serious repose and self-regard and just a pretty placeholder, sadly
Pluggers:
You are an icon here.
You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.
And other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "The Absence of Wavelength"
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—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.
18+ Comment: Love my process constructing and sharing visions in words collected (fuck limitations).
I'm Godzilla ▼
August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼
Going forth, I’ll attempt to document my daily life, experiences in hopes to rediscover my past through old journals to bridge last 15 years of a writer’s life.
Hope to reconnect with my endeavors, carry forward, now that I’m home with kids, unemployed and legally blind from glaucoma. I'm rebuilding this old motor, mount in a clunky, rusty beater of brain, before setting course for a horizon full of misdirection, construction, detours, off ramps and other hapless excursions — put the past in rear view. It's only an automatic; don't get too excited. Oh, no seat belts…or air bags, or 'oh shit' handles, because this baby can still rev rpms to rubber black a road.
I travel light, don’t consult maps or ask directions until really lost. Not unaccustomed to small talk with strangers, getting a feel for ventured countrysides. I like to really know these towns and cities, rivers and lakes, mountains and hills — anything thrown in my path.
Now that I've drained the gas from that metaphor, (Gasp!) throwing this thing into gear. I hear gravel under my wheels! Have to stock up on some Pennzoil. Okay, done. Ah...that's pretty much it...for now.
ADDED: This may be just about basketball going forward (6/2018) and boasting to help appreciate what I still do, legally blind, aging, with shot knees, and psychologically truncated as neuro-divergent with ADHD (among other things).
No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼
I've hammered away at this glass with forefinger since resurrecting on iPad in 2014. Always ready to say too weary, compulsion compels where instigation informs. Bright, full of dark, hidden colors and shapes I reveal as my truth unfolding…into what?
I’ve heard what’s said and what’s unspoken and struggle inside a neurodivergent bubble. Part of my dues as human? But, getting through it, somehow.
Restrained, not always easy to understand. It will be clear someday. Hard, but hide in my heart, making no apologies going forward. Not interested in the trap of stereotypes. I leap out of your box constructs before they close. Responsible for my own emotions, can only do for me when it’s tough times…translate?
This is my pulpit. I'm no preacher. Beginning anew in 2020/2023, maybe I am!
The common denominator in all unfair aspects of life by choices made, surround myself within thorny walls of indifference I dare ascend time to time. I scar, like a good challenge, rebuff conformity. Realize someone somewhere (everywhere and anywhere) has it worse. You won't hear me drowning out their cries. I confide here, look for others who relate. I question what drives me to share, need to be understood with this obtuse, oblique language. No amplifier or soap box needed. Joy is in doing the work, connecting dots in brain…puzzles I forget, repeat. It's catharsis, this discipline called writing. I assume that's why we're all here…?
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: 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 ▼
...Best Poetry Collection (apparently) on Writing.Com. 2020, 2021, 2022 below:
All 2022 poetry safely housed with me.
Mothballs
{dropnote:"The Best Poetry Collection on Writing.Com"}for two years (2020 & 2021), according to voters of WDC Quill Awards, I would assume (a cabal might be another reason, because my stock had finally risen):
Best Poetry Collection
Best Medium Length Free Verse Poem "Invalid Entry"
Poetry is serendipity, and a mystery. I keep writing, hoping I'll find what I'm looking for. But then, I just move on to the next. You’d think I’d publish, again.
2022 Awards/Writing Merits
(Many contests stopped judging, other monthly and quarterlies closed, while others continued accepting entries without awards. Even Schnujo's Scared of NaNoWriMo stopped mid-contest for some unknown reason. My offerings were shut out the last 3 months of 2022 and won't enter contests, preferring activities like that of Lilli Munster 🧿 ☕ 🎃 . Very thankful I did.)
2021 Quill - Best Free Verse Poem "Invalid Entry"
2021 ~ Final tally: 259 poems in 2021...27 writing awards acknowledged...sometimes, I miss something.
Fall ▼
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2021 Awards/Writing Merits:
The 2020 Quill award is for my poetry blog (collection of poetry), "The Absence of Wavelength" .
Where little dreams go to die...a gentle clutter
clumped and cloistered
begging for air
as the dark sun
hides on that
18th degree
rotated away
from me as I melt
into fertile ground
amid the waste
that shouldn't be...
"When I'm restless"} and words swirl an addled head, I blog to hopefully set them free. But the process only alleviates suffering temporarily, as I offer again and again.
For those who visit these words, I offer raw and unedited (reserve the right to go back and change or just harvest to create new items for my portfolio)
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