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 |   All that remains: in afterlife as 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. 20k views |
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Obshchak Some torn to the ground Some burn to the ground Others removed brick by brick Redesign for the times When the lease comes up Or just fold up When you have a bad day and need a reason... Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection... "Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.” - Some guy, I guess. Look it up? I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad. The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone. In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice, might as well hand over your civil liberties. Voices could connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted? Unify on issues or don't but put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. Or, agree to disagree and have a beer. Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head. [MY Chorus] In your house, I long to be Room by room, patiently I'll wait for you there, like a stone I'll wait for you there, alone - Chris Cornell, RIP Some other stuff ▼ My recent poetry:
Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on... Blah, blah, blah ▼ ![Merit Badge in Rare
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I like your work!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Rare.gif) Thank you WakeUpAndLive️~Happiness  for honoring me with your kind words!Read here some old blog entries...  2018 Highlights ▼ More... 2018: The Quiet Ones ▼  Brian K Compton notes an echo~  |
| I did the Ancestry.com DNA sample kit that I got for my birthday and have been wrapped up in genealogy. Most of the work was done years ago by my cousins Dennis and Debra (my Mom's side). With Celtic roots, I'm 67% Great Britain, only 21% Italy/Greece (sorry Dad). And, nine percent located in: Belgium, France, Germany, Netherlands, Switzerland, Luxembourg, Liechtenstein. Less than one percent Asian. I learned I am the great, great, great grandson of Irishman whose name came from McAdoh or McHugh or McCue. McAdoh is said to be Celtic for "son of fire." He participated in the 1798 Irish revolution and dropped the Mc from his last name (to hide from the English) when he moved to America not long after -- where met a woman in Pennsylvania and married. She gave birth to my great, great grandpa and died shortly thereafter. He married twice more and his lineage carries nearly 1400 offspring to this day. Funny that my great Italian grandpa's story has similarity. He fled supposedly because of a murder. He didn't want to be implicated, moved to America and got settled. Eventually all but one of his offspring relocated here, too. My grandpa Bertolomeo fought for the United States in the Spanish-American War of 1898. He was an iron miner. I'm learning one of my all-time favorite writers may be a distant relative -- Margaret Atwood (10th cousin). Still trying to confirm, since I'm not a premium member of Ancestry.com. Dennis said we are related to Laura Ingalls Wilder and a descendant of a Mayflower voyageur. Not done building my family tree and yet to visualize the full work of my cousins. Hoping to add more. |
| Rose petals, strafed By gentle currents, descend as pink tear drops, clot brittle weeds before lost love lifts to the sky. See me now from heaven? Buoyed on pricked arms, watchful bald buds throb joy, Bittersweet envision gleeful castoffs pocketing dreams on summer carpet — for some greater purpose? Butterflies fibrillate, intoxify a solemn, near barren bush -- sunshine glitter searching succulent dew drops that I might live forever? Wait longer. Should breath leave me, I want to be standing here in your colored scene, inhaling nature, reviving hope in dreams. 6.23.17 6.28.22 revised |
| Writing today nostalgically. Only going to share one paragraph… "I can sit on my front stoop and listen to them chop weeds up the block. I can still hear children playing in the street, even though it's fainter then the joy of youth. Summer days come every year and leave disappointment with the death that is fall. We know winter is coming and we have to prepare, but we don't want to. Always, Spring is our hindsight, have Summer in our hearts. Fall is bittersweet. But, Winter, that's the one season I could do without." |
| You can't say things better than this: "His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete." -F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby Poetry and fiction are intertwined. |
| Until It Goes Down I look at the bottom of a drained mug, ask it fill me again. Idle spoon, nothing to stir. Without a word we stare out the window: same landscape, same memories. Oil-topped table props weary limbs that toil at nothing. A brain, still searching for something inside its unforgiving vessel, looks again. Still mocking... or just myself? Dusty floor smooth beneath two stiff feet. Veins unharmoniously pang; the clot pedestals will not send us to the life-giving machine. Had enough. A silent, gray frown. At least I'm served by the sun until it goes down. 28 lines, free verse 6.2.2017 There's a world at my doorstep. Make it go away. It's late. |
| I will still exist in Twitterverse long after my days on other social media platforms... https://mobile.twitter.com/glaedrfly I don't interact well in most worlds, except the real one...where I still have very few followers and fewer fans. |
"Burning light inside my dreams I wake up in the dark The light is outside my door..." This song is so truncated and whistfully sweet. What do you suppose she means? We can dream but reality is dark? Yet, if we look outside we'll see what's inside ourselves? I'm composing now in my head hoping I can come up with a worthy poem to relate to this song. I caught up on my sleep and I'm burning with this dream-like energy that wants to spill forth on this page... Dream another time |
| I like to be somber, reflective... "You encouraged an aimless ghost... gave hope I could love better... love someone like you."
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| Born This Way... Untraveled Road... I'm on it. |
| Making eggs at midnight and this comes to me? It started as a list. How average can we be when we love and how comfortable it is knowing it is typical. I'm going to eat now, fix this later, or not. Typical Love As ordinary as oatmeal, the collared dog that must walk, like sunshine that was there when you first got up still burning behind the mask... As free as that bird builds a nest in the garage gutter, like leaves, gentle, obey the winds falling, falling, falling down to your ground to lay... Our lips embrace forever. Two twigs low, commingled, once swayed in soaring tree, grows a canopy above, warm shelter for two children, three cats, those hamsters content clucking, chittering like raindrops in our hearts. Small hands, tender, wrap ours, typical, calling, calling, calling 'come watch...' Know innocence, true beauty, how we heal them in the night from bad dreams, unjustly pained by sickness inside where we are safe to dream. We, a typical love, we share our stories together so others know how ordinary as oatmeal. I take inspiration where I can find it. Shine it. Hold it up for you to see it glowing, still growing. Thanks, to thee. |
| For LuAnne, who never understood our fate... I witnessed you a thousand feet higher Blue waters purged blue sky And your eyes And mine Alive Two hands United elements We hiked You lifted me higher on Sugarloaf mountain It was not the ore docks, great steel ships, coasting seagulls or fall colors that you described that memory fails to recall, but your song on a chill, sunny day where we paused amid restless leaves decaying You cleansed me, freed me from ignorance, solitude, gave me hope that I could love better Love someone like you. |
| Posting for posterity...raw... Piano Needs Tuning Auditorially challenged No rest for a beset mind Scanning a dim-lit screen In the adjacent kitchen Each discordant key echoes Off bay windows into the open area Shared rests between the keenly measured notes Plodding along a spectrum of sound sagging strings resonate inside an upright Baldwin. Once rich mahogany, faded by sunlight, Stained by coffee, marred by the talons Of unrepentant felines, sturdily depresses The carpet, not seen in 12 years. Rolled away once for an errant plane, The boys favorite when he was four. Dust bunnies act like mortar beneath The tarnished pedals now showing their wear. Music sheets land like his forgotten plaything Stick out from bench and beneath stacks Of forgotten melodies since his first lesson. Markings on the pages more sophisticated Hinges on bands of notes more erratic Pages taped together like paper doll cutouts Dance along the edge, daringly stare at the ground From the edge of their cliff, never falling. Their master deftly pushes back each teetering truant With free hand Without missing those white levers attached to hammers percussing rhapsodic rhythms Begging still the piano tuner to tighten lines For the daring, high-wire act. |
| Final analysis: How Donald Trump became President https://briankeithcompton.wordpress.com/2016/11/09/how-donald-trump-became-presi... via @wordpressdotcom |
| These are the prompts that inspire me. BTW, not a good poem, but love pushing around those words to see what I can do with dreamlike subject... Eye of God, In your death throes, trillion-mile-long tunnel of glowing gases, A journey I long Alone, where I belong Let me penetrate Your aquarian realm, Swim in a blue sea of telescopic light, Disintegrate my limbs Together, grow strong Five billion years Is too long to wait The final, evolutionary state Send my heart on arrow To mythical heaven Earth rots my organs Promises death only Your faint nebula plugs a constellation Fill an empty container With unwished dreams. Inspired by... http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1155834/Eye-God-The-nebula-watche... The image Intrigued and article peaked my longing to know more. |
| I always struggled with being labeled as 'different' and then 'sensitive' so I learned to humble myself through self-deprecating humor to gain acceptance... That did not go well, either. So, I'm a mix of narcissist, self-hater and non-conformist who wants to see the world his way...
These days, I'm indifferent, mostly. But, I can be deeply passionate and opinionated when I'm moved. I reserve those feelings for personal stuff. |
"He who humbles himself will be exalted." Just trust in God's mercy. Beautifully worded prayers mean nothing if the heart behind them contains self-righteousness but no real faith or humility. God will draw near to us during times of humble prayer, but if our inner self is haughty as we pray, He will regard our petitions from a distance. Though the Lord is on high, He looks upon the lowly, but the proud He knows from afar. — Psalm 138:6 |
| Invisible waves reap moisture Harvested condensates They're succor a void Curling foliage Like warped origami Brightly Spastic The spindly laughing children Sway on indifferent arms Soon unburdened As their subjects Scurry off With the recess alarm. To be edited when I'm rested... |
| I lost 20 lbs. in two years, though feels it's really been since the start of summer. My workout regimen is really paying off. But I've turned the corner into AARPland and don't know how much longer I can keep this up. The health insurance company through my wife's employer wants the unhealthy people to pay. So, over the last few years I've been forced to meet certain requirements to avoid having insurance premiums jacked up $50 a pay period. They measured BMI (body mass index) and collected data on height, weight and body fat. I trimmed 5% body fat and dropped BMI below obesity level. Feels like I'm still dropping weight, because I move better on basketball court and people who haven't seen me in awhile are remarking about the difference they see. So, it's encouraging and I want to keep trying. Problem area is my left knee. A doc told me a year ago that I'd be a candidate for knee replacement in three years at this rate. That would mean I'd have to give up the game/running (death sentence 😔) once they repair me. Praying for advances in surgical techniques before my time runs out. In the meantime, I was fitted with a walking brace and I'm using Ace wraps (sometimes on both knees) to reduce stress on those joints. The brace is supposed to keep my leg from bowing. I'm so used to wearing it, would love a mate for my other leg. Puts more strain on my back, but I'm working on posture, too. I'm getting an overhauled version of me. It will never be as good as the original, but I feel good. I like how I feel after running up and down the court (3 times a week, 2-3 hours a day). I lost my appetite for sugars, drink coffee with butter and coconut oil in it (I heard the Bulletproof coffee doesn't really work, but I think it curbs my appetite and like the taste) and I make sure to hydrate a lot (cutting out soda and juice, etc.). Pain meds are also a part of my process, as well as gloucosamine for joint revitalization. I use ibuprofen more than Naproxen because I think it works better in short term, but mix it up based on what I'm doing (and I watch the doses to maximize potential without going over in 24 hour period). I discovered Voltarin gel which I can apply directly to stiff areas to reduce swelling and it is safe because it does not affect vital organs. Ice is very important. Use it when I know I have inflammation that needs to be controlled, and sleep. Did I mention sleep? Workouts are perfect remedy to combat my nocturnal episodes. But, caffeine usage before I play can make me crazy. Cutting out sugars helped. I found a sugarless energy drink and consume it after a coffee. Gets my heart racing. I also know not to go over 400 mgs per 24 hours and come in around 160-200 before I play. But sleep, it can be an issue. It definitely had been in the past. I suffered from depression most my life. Have small bouts still. I can work through most stuff now to get to sleep. I also have sleep apnea which is being treated with a dental appliance to open my airway. Had to get used to that. The nights I can quiet my mind, I sleep relatively well. But, I get behind on my sleep. My wife says that isn't a thing. But, when I take a pill for anti-anxiety when I have a good window to sleep, it's some of the best rest. I can go two consecutive days with three or less hours of sleep, be grumpy but function okay until I hit that sweet sleep spot and hit reset button on normality. I find a rested body performs better at basketball, complains less of pain and needs less repair afterward. That got pretty detailed. Been thinking about that and all the injuries I've suffered and still deal with like tennis elbow and the repaired rotator cuff. And now, the cherry on top: I'm legally blind. I find there are good and bad days with damage to eyes from glaucoma. But, I'm at home in that little gym I've been visiting these past 10 years. I can adapt knowing the game and learning from playing with a lot of the same people. So, with all the people saying I can't, I will myself to play ball better than I have since 30. I don't know where this is taking me. I want to get the most I can from it, before that knee goes or something else derails my run. |
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![Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
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Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in [Link To Item #2164876] with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!
Rachel *^*Heartv*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Second_Time_Around_Contest-2164963_14.gif)
In the Falkland Islands, internet is very limited and very expensive. The place I'm currently staying only lets me use it in the middle of the night, so when I have to get up at 3 am to check my texts (no cell service to the US here unless I'm on the internet) or WdC, I don't do nearly as much as I used to. 
I currently have 2 very long emails I still need to get to from several days ago. Anyway, I miss everyone, but I also miss sleep, so there's that. 
Have you spoken to the doctor about your vision problems lately? I know there are special glasses for it because I have to wear them to read much ever since the brain injury. It's part of why I now only listen to audiobooks instead of reading regular books. It took 8 years for anyone to diagnose it because I have a brain injury and while one might think it would be obvious to me that I see double, it wasn't. Partly, my brain does a fair job of compensating. But also, partly, you use your brain to realize and understand that the 2 images you constantly see are double vision and something you should mention to your eye doctor. Since my brain was damaged, even basic things like that can escape me. 
I never once thought to mention it, even with annual eye exams in the Army and an exam every 2 years at the VA. Though, in my defense, since it happens in something like 41% of people with a brain injury, it should have been discovered by an eye doctor much sooner. 
I know doing that activity is a CRAP TON of work. But you made a difference in lives, not just his, but for all the people he's reviewed since. 
Well done! 
