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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
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I had a lover's quarrel with the world - Robert Frost | I'm sorry you got caught in the middle. - me This poet’s words collect, arrange on a kaleidoscope spectrum. The experience of discovery through writing is the truest reward that has allowed me to grow and learn who/what I am — what other people get naturally, immediately, while I stomp around in it. Been blessed, but pushing it — envelope, world and 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 to 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. Been more than I could imagine or expect here. But, achievements aren’t going on a LinkedIn wall  . I dig deeper than I should, often without forethought. Aimless words, brave or veiled cowardice, flinchingly flung, inadvertently hit targets? Get a ‘back off’ shoulder shot when asking your motivations here. Not fair?No prize to eye; not incentivized. Dealt the worst two cards before the flop, do best with what’s in hand. My Pluggers: You are an icon here.  You suffer, but you suffer brilliantly. Wow, what a great writer.  It’s like plugging myself, but using other people’s (reviewers) words…Review of "Poetic Referendum(s) On Life"  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 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.   ![Merit Badge in Taboo Words
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Brian,
Congratulations! You won 1st Place in Taboo Words with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1027659].
I absolutely loved this! *^*Heart*^*
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Taboo_Words-2139481_13.gif) ![Merit Badge in Poetry
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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](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/type-Poetry-2180.gif)  August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼
No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼  Now: I was such a whore.  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.    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 ▼ |
I'll write you sonnets, if you witness Vacuous, hollow words contained Restrained by structure Ever toiling to find meaning Or Run amok in a field of words Harvesting life's little treasures Unkempt, sprawling, falling out Of pants pockets before I shove In your tall glass with my water. See, Mommy, isn't it pretty? Agree? Fuck You! How does that make you feel?? I won't explain, you won't get it. 1.7.20 Making Public again. Embracing it now. |
| I have perfect, adjusted vision yet I'm legally blind, you see... Return of Idealism (Unbarred)? You know what I miss more than hope and Much less than ambition? Idealism And the notion you can achieve dreams So long as they align with Those who could stand in your way. You know what I could do without? Far less than carbs sticking to these ribs? Way more than corporations Tracking my every movement Through every 'smart' device? Social media What a tool -- clicked, liked Transparently forming self-actualization until Your crypto-world deemed Worthless. You know what I desire/like/miss (Check all that apply)? Simple Climbing trees for red, juicy, Mouthwatering harvest; nurturing Replenishing, sustaining life. Rebuild the legs, Restore the heart, Atrophy a mind plundered. Could you just be my friend? Reach for my hand across This unknowable abyss. See blue eyes gleam, not jaded; Full, reflecting -- a bridge Strong enough to hold both of us; If you trust, If your heart can be pure, again, If you will just dream like me. Who's the influencer now (yes/no)? We can pull away from that realm, Crumbling like molten rock Into the unknowable chasms Of a million helpless souls (No chance to swim across)? Restore Vision See It's a notion -- Compartmentalized thought Spilling over into the cubicles Of division implored we not bound, Ascend. -- The Categorized (from Dreamless Heart Still Swimming A Raging, Relentless Sea) Autobiography doesn't exist (dead link) And more things I'll think up for you to ignore, since I'm not going extinct like the 'Others' (First 'poem' of 2020) DEBATE ME! |
When I found this website in 2006, I was running away from all the disappointment in my personal life. Sorry I brought all my baggage here instead of unburdening it before I walked through this portal door. I can’t undo the past. I am a leopard but only because I’m stained by my past. I can’t change my default as an untrusting person as one who’s been bullied, abused and taken advantage of lifelong. I had/have misplaced bouts of anger (that I’ve dealt with), but put mostly behind me. I do put on appearances of one in control because I do not want to relive the shame and humiliation of my past — nor be vulnerable to manipulation. That is why (in this segregated culture) I have had my misgivings. I have tried to put forth my best self, feel I degraded myself for acceptance. I have felt kinship here, but limited in association by walls that surround. I’m not ungrateful, just cautious. I did reciprocate within reason when called upon. Because of the fires in my belly, I’ve grown. But, I’m not rolling over anymore. I keep my underside protected. I respect what you all do here. I just have to be for myself and yearn for unconditional acceptance...harder to find. As honest as I can be. I’m sorry to all for our misunderstandings and misgivings. We both missed the boat. Sorry if you misunderstand my need for something as close to clarity as can be. Tired of stepping in it. Just know: I won’t go away when there are still words to be said. My disabilities cannot impede either. My will is strong, stronger than you can imagine for one who struggles. I can tag all those who’ve motivated me throughout the years (like I’ve done before) but you know who you are. Typed with giant forefinger on Iphone with diminished vision. The force is great with this one. Let the typos be revealed! |
Rhyming Thoughts Spun Now My Story's Done It’s the next word on your eager tongue. Don’t know where inspiration came from -- Just audacious thoughts placing bets. But then, there's no takers, just regrets. If you don't let the bilge spill, Empty 'til you get your fill. Haphazard notebooks, scraps of paper -- Forming sentences arrive, disappear in vapor. From this clouded brain come foggy whims, Uneven melodies, jotted hymns No choir would approach, harmonize, Let alone perform, would rather demonize. It's the last word on this tongue, Until the next wayward inspiration flung. \ 14 lines, rhyming couplets The next rhyming poem inspired by Brenpoet moving house   d1931 |
| Second place tie in Taboo Words Contest, December, 2019 -- Red laces adorn white leather atop pearly steel. Metal flashes, frozen splashes -- twirl to toe, spin and clear. Coast the soft, oval plain. Lofty, tin speakers pump oldies in vain. Wheeling through winter, heart hiding, soul confiding, these crystal-blue eyes stared when I saw you, still night in cool air. When Will I See You Again echoes, warped through time. Perfect-white, wool petticoat emblazoned you upon shadowed bluffs of snow with Molly Jean, whose looks lingered longer. Brief whispers witnessed; you took sidelong glances, circuitous journeys away. Bundled, small boys falling in sweaty moon boots, lifted up by your arms. I pined to be helpless, too: share hot cocoa, a bench to unwrap, unlace, release trapped heat in that winter shed -- see your chest heave in whiter sweater. I waited for you to look back, only to fade into black night with damned plumes and taillights from your father's Vista Cruiser. Heart sighing, soul denying, these crystal-blue eyes recall with the radio repeating melodies down the forgotten hall. Steel rusts, a soul distrusts, but coast the soft, oval plain as dim Winter returns again. Mixed: rhyming verses around freeverse story 40 lines Poem began as a mess: Taboo Words Contest Metal flashes, frozen splashes Twirl to toe, spin and clear Coast the soft, oval plain Lofty tin speakers Pump oldies in vain Heart gliding, soul confiding wheeling through winter's Sentimental fare Still night in cool air White leather trimmed red laces Top your pearly steel To song, When Will I See You Again echoing through crusty speakers You in thick wool petticoat against snow bluffs with Molly Jean She perhaps stared longer while you took sidelong glances on your circuitous journey Mostly away from me Boys in rubber winter boots slide and fall helped up by the likes of you Youth, my vigor Winters pining to sip hot cocoa with you in the shed Wishing to share a bench, unlace, unwrap long enough to cool winter wool’s trapped heat and sweat See your chest heave in that sweater, inviting clutches I could only envision |
| Too late for entry..."Invalid Item" Prompt was:  Late offering: Snow Globe at Christmas Frozen scene, unshaken, A collapsed world encased Waiting the clutch of the boy, Grown since last year. Make it snow, make it snow! Dream again. Snuggle within as the yearling Huddles with your snowman. What tiny hands crafted The bright red cardinal That it would sit pretty for Childlike imagination? Hidden memory, Each year removed From bubble wrap by parents. Forgotten realm, Annually returning joy, Shakes to life a youthful heart, Eternally -- shimmering dome By Christmas tree, inviting amid peppermint and holly. Twinkle lights their stars, Within each seasonal night To eternal delight. |
| ...in my Notebook, which winds up in newsfeed, which you might not care to hear. So, I post where you can pry... Finally got the lid on that box Nailed it shut? It probably won't hold -- A temporary fix Just felt like saying It's closed...shut Nope, I don't even have to look I could peek in the morning Making no plans to check on that cat. Now closing my eyes Rare occurrence but I've done this before A cage? That is not my area of expertise. 12.21.19 |
| Sexual assault is something that is seen on college campuses, libraries, or any public place across the world. At the beginning of my second semester of college, I attended a party where a man felt that he could reach his hand down my shirt and touch me. This is not something I had shared with people. I had always told myself I would smack a guy to next Sunday if he ever touched me in a way I didn't consent to. But when it happened, my whole body froze and I was in such a shock that I just stood there and walked away after he removed his hand. I didn't tell people because I felt ashamed and embarrassed that it happened. When I finally worked up the courage to tell select people, some of those people decided it was their right to talk about what happened to me with others. Not only was it humiliating when I found out that my privacy had been invaded, but I was shattered when I found out that the response of some of the people was that I was asking for it. Yes, I was at a party, but since when does my location consent for me? I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, my clothing did not consent for me. My beverage did not consent for me, my make up did not consent for me, and the atmosphere of the party did not consent for me. In no way did I ask for what happened, and in no way do the other girls who are assaulted ask for what happened to them. We act like men aren't responsible for their actions when they are around other women. We also act like sexual assault is something that is frowned upon to talk about, but we should support people who have the courage to confide in us with their stories. EVERYONE has the right to their own body, but just because you feel confident in your right to yours, it does not give you the right to mine. She attends my church |
Dark Corners The anti-inhibitants loiter in dark corners Where highball divers leap from shelves, Swim daringly amid ice rocks and swords With the colorful, impaled vegetation. Diamond-sparked, transparent sphere clutched In my god-sized hand drained weightless Into an empty, deflecting village of hope -- Ambition hiding, reluctant to join The scene nestled in an activated mind. More pleasured, a human water globe now Unshaken, settles-in warm, sleeps The remaining pale winters in dark corners. https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/inhibition https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snow_globe It's about insulating, deflecting after experiences teach us old-timers it's too late to go all in. The time for risk was youth. Can't recover from mistakes if you don't try. Life less messy instructs to hit the recliner with a favorite drink, distraction, or sleep until dead. Sorry to spoil it, but you read it before I explained, sooo... |
| This was supposed to be better...work in progress or give up? Thursday Plan It's in the sink, Our Thursday plan, Thawing like fifty-some memories Filling pages of a lost album -- Hanging black photo mounts, Some askew, taunt like Faded handwriting, illegible On coarse Manila background. But a dark blue roasting pan Shelters a 12-pound fowl From two prowling, curious cats. Tradition, reason to be thankful? For jellied cranberries, marshmallow yams? Mashed potatoes, anytime. Yes, Not for soon dried-out bird hauled from 12-foot freezer to checkout To four by four traction (over A dry, hurried and hazardous road); Marinate, pre-heat, season, store Our turkey in a mindless oven, Baste gloriously -- haloed yellow Through a dim, thick window. Assemble, sit, pray, eat; grow duller Never reflecting, but deflect -- Sprawled on soft, reclining frames Of woven fabric, beneath the cover Of colorful, comfortable throws. Make room for leftovers And the next dying season. |
| What can I prove here more than the words I share in this internet village? It's an unknowable game of push and pull, where I find I could be an element within certain neighborhoods. The words are cheery, greetings sincere. What is missing makes me feel like a wallflower at the dance, the kid who wasn't recruited to play on that team, the child who grew up and saw his little brother get all the women's attention? A life of mental conditioning and responses of distrust brought me along. I don't need my cheeks pinched, better than most athletes I could dance circles around ladies manhandled across this floor -- the great divide. So, I journey about. Let me sit on the tallest hill and gaze upon the scene, pen my words into unseen pages under protective trees and my competent voice will echo songs down the valley that one might hear and join for awhile. The dream is being found...where you are. The vision is not selling short and yearn love unconditional. The hope is learn from the past to be a better person who loves oneself foremost...no worries, no regrets. This quest never truly sought be alone. The time is nearing on this quiet summit -- a feint heart undisturbed can rest. The sun will ply pleasant-smelling boughs to renew my heart daily. The moon will return to charm pale blue eyes that once did gleam...for all-of-you. If I didn't give back enough, I could recline 19 more years -- linger in the memories of ignorance corrupting innocence and wish I could see her fresh, full face one more time and kiss deeply, full on tender lips. I'll never grow old if I hide. I can only die, when you accept me. All I really want is something beautiful to say To never fade away, I wanna live forever! |
| https://twitter.com/glaedrfly/status/1198625224138338306?s=21 I might delete twit post... Sorry To Bug You Below the break Semi-hidden Confessions? Confusions? A place where hope Positioned just so Gives chance or Serendipity A mirror Aimed directly at The soul of a poet -- Soon deflecting To write Another day Below the break... |
| None of us can stay young forever but in our hearts Wither where you may hide. Sing your song in the shadows That someone might hear -- Unless they might near -- Then, like a cricket Make yourself scarce. Hide your true love for any creature More beautiful, showy, Unknowing your intent to mate With their words of appreciation, Should they hear autumnal offerings. Experience attuned Echoes off nearby trees in the night. Never let them visualize the messenger. Just -- Give them your caged song to carry In their (as yet) unburdened heart That they might find and share With their true love. And your parting -- Just Whispers in the sheltered branches Rising like steam to join wayward clouds. They dispense your love like seeds To the decaying ground -- hope For renewal. Lose any memory Of what you are. 28 lines |
| Entropy Out The Clever Window In great solitude I climb into your room, Though the lobby would be fine. We both know space here can be Accessed by anyone flowing freely. I'm learning your comfort has no arms But ways of holding me that restrict. I unpin this wrap, remove shoes, Find a closet and shelf with affordable space for things, whatever I chose Hide away or bring out. I could come sans clothes down your lobby With no ill intent: beautiful, glowing. Yet with noble conceit to seek patrons, Earn praises or silence -- notice These stays are brief, a distraction From your events planned, intended For true guests. Outlived, I ascend With hollow offers to stay, knowing By now, I won't pay but return to My empty suite to the few belongings Shelved and arranged just so that If someone should visit, should comment, Should want to know how I emigrated, Travelled well on this journey That provided such beautiful things, That I...that I could...find Some sense of closure in unpurposed Visitation in this grand manner, addicted With key, my own warden. The night stretches long, thinner. Entropy growing more beautiful (unwitnessed), fading. My Autumn nears Winter chill. Molecules irreversible changing. No longer able to exit the lone chair Aim an eye from door to window (My clever little entry here) That begs me now Escape. Life can be dehumanizing to those who struggle within it, unable to fake it for those who hiss 'don't mess up our party.' Should that have been part of the poem? Feels like it is, I'll leave it alone. |
| Is it possible to pound too hard On this rented podium? Can't take my words back. I have hammer and nails And biceps that would sweat For the women who swoon And jealous men who don't dare Compare to compete With the likes of me because The game is fixed And I must go home Now that the rant pales Without proper amplification Words won't hit their mark In your arena. Though I see the fixed eye -- The sidelong stare and Maybe there is hope I'll get out of here If I ever find a bigger arena Someone who will tout The likes of me. |
Rocks The balance I swallow whole your rock To allow me process All I digest Knowing I cannot fly proud with Heavy stones Eyeing The roadside castoffs Gobbled, consumed whole Neighboring with the unwanted portions sent -- Unceremoniously departed From half-open windows -- Treasure for fowl like me But, why Castigate a lonely soul A kin Who would clean up your trash After ingesting stone ruffage to save me From the likes of yourself? |
because i don’t know It yet You won’t even let me talk Directly to you Won’t listen or approve Can I get an aside As if To whisper in your guarded ear, describe What I see, experience To make you feel...something? But in code? Okay, Use an allegory, metaphors Personify and disconnect? From this realm I’ve been running from? And look back at it like... Massive, furred forearms flailing As bared teeth gnash So close a nose can taste it’s breath? Show you...fear That this process is making me realize Stuff For you that removed Ambition, hope... Forget cliche dreams that left Before the first gray whisker That you pointed out, I might add. I’ve long given up doing dishes Cleaning the John, running a vacuum Let’s not forget clotted gutters Where a once useful ladder could go — The manly things to do before Snow, ice and forgotten leaves could remind Another forgetful season closes Before we can snuggle under the sheets I’m in my bed before or after You arrive, you who nods off in seconds That I tiptoe around As I imagine growing shapes on the walls — that I could, that I would (Not that I should) Describe for you with waning imagination I used to like a cold bed Still share it For how long? It was either this or an ode to attending to a fungal toe...nail? |
| With all good writing, there are many things we would rather not say but leave to the reader's imagination. Poetry is like interpretive dance. How does it make you feel, make you imagine? Good, bad, we move on from it. Do we go back to it, begs the poet? To quantify words takes skill or simple experience. The more we read and write, the process cultivates those keen eyes for the right text. I'm not a master of writing. I obsess with words, the language, especially since 2006. Readers forced me to wrestle with myself, my words, get to the point. So, here it is. My attempt at a poem with challenge to readers to see if we are on the same page. An attempt to show this community what is part Me and part you...what I've learned here should reflect strongly in what I display in ALL MY WRITING: The poem:
Interpretation: (What you should know -- I have all kinds of avenues to chase down when I start something. Just the title alone made me think of all the directions I wanted to take. I had a feeling in my gut, because my motor was revving. When I feel good and want to express, I trust wherever this thing is going. I'm part navigator, driver and the person in the back seat experiencing the ride. Each voice in my head uses experience to help us get there.) I like the comments people shared. It even got scholarly. Rather than response to reviews, I waited for the responses, the second look-sees. Now I reveal -- I can make Interpretation succinct. Life is a fast ride. Be prepared. It will give you feelings of false hope. 'Eyes that gleam'...we see possibilities. Ghosts are self-doubt and haunting reminders of what we could have been...hence dull eyes, numbing ourselves to avoid regret. 'Over all shoulders' is the past, history and indicates 'since the beginning of time' like our forefathers who came over whatever ocean with a dream but failed: 'drown on dry land'...irony. But: 'backs to the future' ...we ignore the past. We are stubborn. We insulate, winter ourselves (so to speak). 'Silver dreams' ...someone else's visions to get us through these hard times (movies, streaming services ). 'Dreamt for us'...selling us fantasies we could not acquire ourselves.The last stanza is about what we leave behind. It's the saddest. We are dying. Our planet, in fact. Autumn is no longer about promise of renewal, but marking time. All the tomorrows forgotten: end of time. And, we (more notably, this author) dread rather than live like we are dying -- so, it is individualist and globalist in each sense. Side 2: (I had this written out by hand after reading last review of Through Your Hair. Flipping over note now.) We can be the biggest obstacles to our own fate if we are not equipped to be a part of this world (so much of that statement applies to my foray in the Internet realms). And, even if we did play our cards right, is it satisfying to play systematically, rather than just live and experience and let all the joys and sorrows move through us without keeping score? Okay, last statement might not be a defense of poem. I'll reread 'Through Your Hair' one more time...BRB... Oh, yeah. I had a crib note stuck into there under HIDE: "Essentially, the history of the world and human kind's persistence in it. Our purpose is to live, die and give to future generations. Circle of life stuff. But, what we truly impose on earth is only death. It questions our purpose, spreading from continent to continent and then the world succumbs to our ultimate overpopulation. So, death. Imagery implies most. I just forgot all elements of what I meant as I wrote like what over our shoulders meant other than leaving behind other worlds, lives, turning our back on history while forging ahead, crossing Atlantic to America." Maybe, more global than individual? It is possible to not be the master of what you write? Maybe, there is some truth to these muses beyond a whimsical nature that overtakes the soul of a writer. Hey, don't blame me! *points at winged muses* I've come to appreciate your input of my writing. I owe a lot of my growth with poetry here to your input. Signed, ly |
Sometimes, I want to give away (to the potential reader) too much. But you have to sing that song in your heart, no matter how awkward. Some might like it, others might hate it. Mostly, it's no response and you move on -- to another beat, the next rhythm that spins your heart to dance...chance it. Sometimes, its serendipity that reminds us our language can be decoded. We don't want to tell too much because the intensity of what you feel lies hidden in the words you chose. I responded to this note I happened upon in newsfeed: "Note: Maybe the trees will take us for granted. Maybe t..." Maybe the trees will take us for granted. Maybe they already have. Maybe we will grow up to do the same, you and I. Or maybe we will dive into the lake, together, and never come up. Maybe the summer will forget our names. Maybe it already has. Maybe we will lose ourselves in the fall and do the same, you and I. Or maybe we will splinter across the canyon, together, and become a fine dust. I already blame the Staghorn Cholla. I already blame the wild Vesper Sparrows. The saints of Phoenix have come here calling for us again. I am radiant with things I will never understand, and you, you are charged with the same. We are always, and always the same, you and I. We are drawing now nearer to the edge of the forest. Maybe the wolves will forget what they have seen here. Or maybe they will use it against us. Maybe we will return with our weapons, together, and do the same, you and I. Maybe we will become the bullets that splinter apart their bones in the names of men. WE WILL REMOVE THE ONCE SHARP TEETH, YOU AND I, AND LEAVE OUR FORMER NAMES AS VESTIGES IN THEIR PLACE. Clouds, was what I imagined -- clouds personified. It doesn't have to be what the poet intended when you read. What did you see or feel when you invested your mind in consuming the poet's offering? His experience shared becomes the experience others may have had or Unknowingly processing. Passion-driven writing, no matter how controversial, doesn't feel wrong because you are not telling people what to feel. Again, they will like it, hate it or leave it. Just have to be true to yourself. We are shaped by those interactions, but the passion/message will survive and eventually find those faces that know your true heart. Your growth comes from preserverence. You learn as you teach along the way. "Moon In October 🌕"  |
Hold on to your hats or Stetsons... Only villains monologue (too long) before they're caught, destroyed by they're own vanity -- fiction, cliche devices to accentuate the 'good' (otherwise boring characters) before we, the ignorant masses who eventually get trapped in this (our) shared reality, realize the true deceptive: white and black are not primary colors. |
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— 21
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— 29![Merit Badge in Shadows and Light
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A huge congratulations, to you!
You have won a very deserved Honourable Mention in [Link To Item #shadows] , round 112 *^*Smile*^*
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Shadows_and_Light-1936078_14.gif)
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Brian,
Congratulations! You won 1st Place in [Link To Item #shadows] with your fantastic poem, [Link to Book Entry #1037176]. Fabulous writing!
Rachel](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Shadows_=38_Light_II-1936078_14.gif)
— 9
MAY 
37![Merit Badge in Coffee Award
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Congratulations on placing 2nd in [Link To Item #2182602] with your poem, [Link to Book Entry #1031722]. *^*Coffeeo*^* Kindest Regards, Lilli](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Coffee_Award-2149524_14.gif)
APRIL 
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Congratulations on the third place win at [Link To Item #hpc] for your poem: [Link to Book Entry #1030482]. Thanks for making me laugh, and keep writing the funny stuff! *^*Bigsmile*^* ~Lornda A.K.A. The Queen of Comedy *^*Crown*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Humorous_Poetry_Contest-1875103_14.gif)
MARCH 
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CONGRATULATIONS for winning 2nd place in [Link To Item #2254385] !!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Contests-235.gif)
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Thank you for your participation in the 48-HOUR CHALLENGE: " Thank You by Dido ." Media Prompt hosted by [Link To User support] March 2022! We appreciate that you tackled this challenge... *^*Smile*^* *^*Thumbsupl*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-WDC_Media_Prompt.gif)
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Here's to a world where we wouldn't have to keep reciting the words woven in your excellent poem [Link to Book Entry #1027990].](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Good_Things_Take_Time.gif)
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Thank you so much for your poem [Link to Book Entry #1026670]! Please don’t ever stop being you, both as a writer and a visionary of love!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Gay_Lesbian-680.gif)
JANUARY 
18
![Merit Badge in Quill Award
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Congratulations on winning Best Medium-Length Poem, Free Verse in the 2021 edition of The Quills!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Award-1375927_6.gif)
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Thank you for your generous donation to [Link To Item #quillhome] ! *^*Quill*^* Every donation is used to celebrate WdC while recognizing quality work and acknowledging community involvement. Kindest Regards, Lilli](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Quill_Sponsor-1375927_6.gif)
![Merit Badge in Quotation Inspiration
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Congratulations on winning 1st Place in the September 2022 round of [Link To Item #quotation] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-Quotation_Inspiration.gif)
![Merit Badge in Artistic
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Congratulations on winning day 6 of The Daily Poem Sept 2022!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Artistic-125.gif)
![Merit Badge in Problem Solving
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From [Link To User jayne] : With my apologies for the Redaction Poem prompt mishap. Thank you for taking on the challenge! I hope to see you next time for a redaction-free week of fun at [Link To Item #dailypoem] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Problem_Solving-210.gif)
![Merit Badge in Inspiring Love For Poetry
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Congratulations on being our Honorable Mention in March of 2022 at [Link To Item #2216416] !
Blessings, Sharmelle](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Inspiring_Love_For_Poetry-2259846_14.gif)
![Merit Badge in Action Adventure
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CONGRATULATIONS for [Link To Item #2229211] winning place as an Honourable Mention in [Link To Item #2254385] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/genre-Action_Adventure-100.gif)
![Merit Badge in Bard's Hall Blogging Merit Badge
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For placing 3rd in the Bard's Hall Blogging Contest, June 2022](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Bard=s_Hall_Blogging_Merit_Badge-2094227_12.gif){kind=icon}
![Merit Badge in G Specials
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Congratulations for winning 1st Place during the April 2022 round of [Link To Item #2268646] !](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-G_Specials-2271325_14.gif)
![Merit Badge in Chapter 1
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Congratulations on your 1st Place win in the April 2022 Round of Chapter One! Great entry! *^*Smile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Chapter_1-2251918_14.gif)
![Merit Badge in Accuracy
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Congratulations to our 1st Runner Up of [Link To Item #2254385] Round6.](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/general-Accuracy.gif)
![Merit Badge in 30DBC Winner
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Congrats Team Pedantic Poets Platoon on winning [Link To Item #1803384] during WDC's 21st Birthday Festivities!! Well done!](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-30DBC_Winner-2064535_14.gif)
![Merit Badge in Every Moment Matters
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A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.
― Paul Cezanne
Thanks for your participation in my 'art' challenge via my notebook feed.
Keep on being inspired! *^*Bigsmile*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Every_Moment_Matters.gif)
![Merit Badge in Brilliant
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CONGRATULATIONS on [Link To Item #1145690] winning a place in "Honorable Mentions" in [Link To Item #2254385]](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/Kudos-Brilliant.gif)
