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 |    A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
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...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 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My  goes through — R S = 2 G M c 2  ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~   ————————- .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 ▼ Best Poetry Collection ▼ Been more than I could imagine or expect here. Why Mail It In? In Latin ▼ 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. ![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)  I'm Godzilla ▼ August 28, 2006 this blog opened ▼
No specific aim going forward (2014) ▼  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 ▼ |
| November hush, colorful castoffs sleep — their dreams fade, interlocked on a hard mattress. Soft, pristine descent of tiny-winged angels come. Gray time swept up into prolonged nights, resist allure of outlasting that twelfth chime. Memories cascade — serenading symphony comes — Her holiday confections rise in oven, whisper to a soft nose, as I cuddled in hand-me-downs. Decorations ascend; presents find their shrouds. Music wanders about a quiet truce in our home. A temporal refuge, our family's respite. Time to unwind, be present, and be family. Thanksgiving's embrace, feast tradition, revel in comfort food and kinship extended. Trapped in snow globe of nostalgia, Kresge Drug Store's magic orb, gazing scenes imagined within, immersed. Beneath the next tinsel-draped tree, a child's haven of stick-sap and dreams mingling. Face pressed to cardboard nativity, wise men, cows, humble manger and a solitary bulb, humble star, celestial and warm guide tiny dream scenarios. 11.28.23/23 lines, free verse 12.26.23 minor edits, tighten, tweak, tastier words. In this free-flowing verse, enjambment weaves the memories seamlessly, capturing the essence of November's nostalgia and the timeless magic of family traditions. Prompt: “It is also November. The noons are more laconic and the sunsets sterner and Gibraltar lights make the village foreign. November always seems to me the Norway of the year.” — Emily Dickinson
Never entered…too busy…forgot…public now… Impetus: Its post leaves down, raked to curb, before fresh snowfall. days are shorter. Night seems to go on and on that I don’t feel tempted to stay up later. And when I lie in bed, I’m transported, I recall the sweet holiday confections emanating late from her oven to my anticipant nose, sense heightened by sounds of decorations going up, presents wrapped, soft holiday music, quiet truce between parents. Family had more time to wind down, be in the moment, be family, repose, with no current distractions but free time to commune, eat comfort food, enjoy extended family at thanksgiving, timeless traditions, as if trapped in an old Kresge Drug Store snow globe, the kind I stared into for long periods of time, imagined myself inside, or would crawl under the freshly tinseled tree, risk sticky sap, face in front of a cheap nativity of fold out cardboard and glued on wise men, cows, sheep, Mary, Joseph, baby in manger and the one light bulb protruding from the hole in display serving as that star, illuminating tiny dream scenes. How to put all that in free poem, structured, with enjambment was difficult. How to edit this? I’ll take another run at this someday. 12.01.23 |
| Hands wrest heart from soul without physical act Touch and all crumbles into virtuality, nothing Eyes penetrate a weak mind without a second glance View all that tumbles into hollow reality, a void Old patterns emerge, a defense Knee reacts, hands hold down Mouth strapped, I shut Speak no more of experience unacknowledged. 11.26.23 Working on I play the SYML song and response with no preconceived notion what I’ll write. Lay down, repeating refrain Locked in membrane Seeking purpose within a crowd Loud, words forced out Shatter the heat, mind, soul Crumble into a sea of self-doubt Personality un-conformed cannot reform, anymore. Better to live in a void, Be as unexistant as possible, Not a sound, mutter, mumble Restraint so tight, I fail to breathe Find comfort of satin, in another lover’s arms, who’ll hold protect a giant man with plow hand to settle the quakes that disrupt the tranquility of candle-illumed rose room Shuttered portals lock all out But the mere essence of the remains Of a graphite skin and bones dull The galley of hull on torn sail craft Amid a rock harbor, no sound, edge of the earth on tattered map given a lad who dreamed serpents would come lay waste to a bright sailor, claimed black pirate shackled dreams interned in purgatory nary a clank, clasped cold in steel never see another sunrise, sundown in literal afterlife counting down tether free, float, sink deep, never found at the center of a bottomless reality I count each moment of descent, savor sweet death of a mouth penned words in time bottled body, never found again, no eyes, heart, could possible perceive. I am him, the one you don’t wonder about pathetic persecution, in negation, censored so casually to sodden sea free to just be everything and nothing without existence personally, blight on one who tried to bloom words, life viewed from your above, looking down deciding fate abd destiny not my right if not enslaved to conformity over co-existence could not commune without carefully stepping about scattered shards, suddenly Bleed, cry pain, not understanding why a moth drawn to light. Couldn’t see how reform, be what you want without losing all I dream, seek, am about. Submerge in this primordial lay down, dream fire consumes and hardens my metal find strength in this fight…yet brittle break from the quiet, which is sound surround, echo repetitively, shatter all that epoxy in 11th hour can’t repair, stilled. Shhhhh, heart lay down. Shhhhh, mind lay down Shhhhh, small boy lay down and let some mother’s arms collect the remainder for ever after Lover come before the striking hour Gifted glass returns to sea-soothing sand never to be reformed, graveless, forgotten but for memory loss vision as guide Lay down, sweet soul Lay down, tender heart, Lay restless mind, sleep in decay. Don’t dream again, that maybe one day? Overstayed. 11.26.23 All this, with memory of the song of defeat amid a throng with eyes redirected to sky, great beyond. It’s not your fault, only comfort I can add It’s your job. Stick to those weapons. Lay each down. I’ll look back at this too, and wonder Unable to remember day-to-day where I’ve been What I’ve shared How this is to all go down Nattering |
| There was a time when staying up late was special. You could hear the world wind its giant clock. Since daylight savings time, everything digital, we wait for sunrise eternal. We can’t hear. We don’t see. What’s special that we cherish — the tradition of anticipation? Why do we have to learn the ending of every story, and not fear the trap of our eyes inside a snow globe? What’s not eternal, is mother tucking me in, placing two waxy lips tenderly upon a sweat-tired forehead. Don’t stay up, spoil what waits at morning. Bright, lumin colors and scents hovered in nights. All unwrapped now: my gifts, her presence, what I regifted my children; and what do they give moving forward from me, her, from Father Time? Where is that clock? Did we break midnight eternal? Chains, gears, pulleys…a shop…bespectacled, gray assessor? A few more grains slip the hemorrhaged container, spill faster like counted and gobbled pastel beans. Does the March hare come or a mad hatter? I’m tired even of myself, questioning everyone. No one acknowledges, but look over my shoulder at something. I look behind for presumed ghosts, turn back and years elapsed; all are gone. I presume looking, echoing my name amid valleys and dense wood. I’m alone in November, recall we held each other for warmth with a tune harmonized from one heart. Not even a sigh now, unless resignation December. Its weight of mighty hammer, soon pendulous, smashes open that gumball machine of time. Snatch up all, as I walk through and past each of you, invisibly — the children Wonka never wanted, but one. The keys to the chocolate factory embedded in carbonate chocolate time. We could write a sequel, but not like the first screening, reclined in tight-hinged, creaking theatre amid landmine popcorn memory crunch. From bucket to mouth to seat, eventual gravitational, cement floor, wasted calories. Even as pale faces flickered, we knew our film souls losing to the giant clock. What is time really, without one record keeper, reminiscer and a mother who tenderly turns pages with a wet forefinger? The furnace kicks in one more time. It’s late. Life in the morning. Time exhales, as I do. 11.18.23 5:41 a.m. before a glim of sun spied in my shed. Why edit to satisfy the needs of contest promoter or publisher. Fear the giant clock, our own impatience? I will read to you from my giant, green recliner. Space for two. You can feel these emotions when one writes. Not quite as much on a later read. Give it time. Then read. Hopeful clarity. Look for the popped kernels in every crevice. Tell me: was it fun while it lasted? Make Some Memories. Be glad for recollections that nourish a tired soul. O, for the lack of a good editor. Looks to the northern…lights. |
| Papa’s getting ready to hang up his hat for good. Naps in the green recliner with the tv on in his boxers when a knock at his door alerted him. Pants off, the blue ball cap on the nail, hooked for good. In black nights he sleeps all alone. No one to comfort him. He could wear a frown, but blooms rose from her oven. Soon stern tulips waited for the delicate lilies to rise with our eternal sun. Papa never opened his eyes in late summer; harmonious roses being plucked, Chrysanthemums dared frost and snow. He had no space to move, when he felt something underground move. From her delicate hand a bright, light lid for a stern head. No pajamas needed for this bed where he could stretch limbs as long as the willows that tickle toes across the street. From brown to green to blue — delicate and stern — they still fly, higher than any eye could spy. And that’s why we don’t touch the old hat that needs it’s rest in his very old house. 11.17.23 30, 37 or 38 lines. Take your pick. Or, 39?  It’s surreal, some literal, but all imagined except for dad and his tv and recliner. His left hand ran up the trimmed wall, locked there, while his right cradled the cocked head, asleep. Couldn’t change his channel, with a, “I was watching that”, after opening blood eyes. You need the right channel to rest. No gas stove for us. —————————————————————— Somewhere, a link just died. 40. |
| 🍂Seasons Change🍁 But Not The❤️ Fall Themed Poems in 2023… "Invalid Entry" "Seasonal Layers" Note: I cannot be Quilled. Go ask Bugs. He's told it to Elmer once before it blossomed into a bosom buddy relationship. No good vibes here, yet. *Watch where ya pointin' dat thing, doc'. THE OTHERWISE — "Invalid Entry" "Invalid Entry" "Autumn Irony" "Finality In Autumn" "Invalid Entry" "Picturing" "Invalid Entry" "The Clotting Season"              I always looked forward to fall -- crisp air, beautifully colored landscapes, the wonder of how death promises renewal. It's somber and awe inspiring to know life will lay in its icy, white bed only to offer something more plentiful blooming with hope. It's a truth we can trust, like the sun setting and rising daily. I found many loves in Autumn, making my heart swell with the potential of love everlasting. While the fires of a kindred few flamed out/faded away, one true love remained...poetry. An assemblance of words to evoke rememberances of the ones that got away in a backdrop of glorious promise, love's serendipitous return with each season.
Read where my beauties display haunting misery and potential bliss for one growing too old to savor the memory of tasting vibrant painted lips, or foggily recollect tender arms entwined in a lover's dance. When the last poem drops, I will close these doors forever. Enjoy the simplicity of nature as provided by Robert Frost, and enjoy the brief audio as you follow along: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/resources/learning/core-poems/detail/44272 Response to Frost with Dylan Thomas' prompt... "Invalid Entry" Leaf-shadowed crossroads brightening the longer I pause indecisive nearing an even tide sun setting knowing I'm prompted to choose when to push forward gentle into that good night It won't matter what road I travel I feel an autumnal tide washing me out of summer. Humidity shudders. Breezes brush lines of linen where a child once played in fading light.
Last year for this Autumn collection before permanent deletion from account. |
| Cotton, woven, linen too perfect in reverence of gentle white greetings it would be new anguish to stain. Then, the tub’s the thing — though it soothes — it’s with purpose to serve a soiled soul with stains to drain each red moment tide-bled from eternal life clock, ticking, ticking, ticking off. Oh, but be a burden to the maid that must scour? So, with the life-nourishing water tapped, spigot-ever-sending, purge an outpouring until every last sap-drop drowned. And yet, could a soul vanish in wood somehow-never-found except by hungry mongrels to sever worried flesh from pale bone upon receiving ground? Maybe, walk into a fire so intense it disguises all remaining hope of a life not lived well enough to tell? What worry to have been a burden so small unworthy of comfort of bedding, a bath, a walk in wood, warm fire that sparks the fleetest gleam in a lone moment. Thoughts entertain a soul not-ready-for-bed in this quiet undead void of endless night meandering. What if I’m gone? Since, I seem to be less-than-sheets-suds-roam, and another rekindled sunrise of-no-surprise at all? 11.12.23 Let’s not speak of this…too easy to entertain idle thoughts…that progress from room to room to open door, down a highway to hopeful non-existence, freedom of burden to roam as unshackled spirit wherever my mind wants to take me…since, no true home but inside my mind. Thoughts progress, the wider the maw of existence unhinges jaw to receive a thin-thin-pale soul washed awash, never-ending… and-it-just-goes-on-like-that… …dashes blur like yellow highway stripes toward highway oblivion… dot-dot-dot… Do words ever… |
| Formerly: ‘Raised … in a memory’s dream’ I heard you say only one metaphor at a time — all you could follow am I dreams — when I don’t speak to you? artless? Let me keep this straight while working on another poem in my head… I see — crayons color mother… She hugs me. Appreciation? I draw another and another, lifelong to please her. Wish I could near you, merge with song. Everyone is mother, because… I chase something across a barren rug. Oh, there you are. I’m holding my drawing up… I remember you say everything is poetry…yes/no? Where there’s beauty is song? No reception… The purpose of these crayons? mother raised me wrong. she died. Indifferent, the song plays on. I surpassed into nothing but a void, living in a memory’s dream, recast into shapes like you, with eyes ears nose. You don’t follow this cryptic form of communication that lives in the untold — yet, visualize this incipient space? That’s me! That’s where I live! But (~none~) conceive what cannot be, that cannot bond to your atoms. 11/2023 41 lines, free form https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horror_vacui_(physics) : https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horror_vacui_(physics)#Origin Can I breathe now? Wanted to end with an added line… I’m not living a dream? -or- I’m not even the memory of a dream. a little too… Afterthoughts: To exist is to be acknowledged? Earth is true purgatory. 11.30.23 last edit |
| I’ve considered you all So much I forgot about me And yet Thank you for the distraction Never far From my next birth…rebirth Received? Amniotic waves flow away From me Once fertile feelings of love Are naught My love not to be bought I hide Walls of resistance crushing Fall in Explode a beautiful sea into A void Harmless blue blood washes brown Back out Black into light obliterated I am Alright in sanctity tonight Until morn We wait to see a sparkling babe Born…again. What a waste lost, to revision. 11.11.23 This…I’ve done for all and any, and yet… still learning…and who I am? Not to be defined by another, anymore That’s why the reviewlution…for now… Cleansed into one-ness. Careful, lest stars get in your eyes. |
Yeah, you don’t know me. What’s that on yo neck? Unrelated How many corners of Earth you tryin’ to own? How many more have I been in tryin’ to whiff an essence? You? You think I chase. You ain’t got the cash I need. You can’t own those mountains, that sea, the sky. You can climb, swim but never fly, yet you try… buy it all, hoping I buy something you can’t conceive, something I ain’t sellin’. ‘Cause, the more I buy, the more I’m bought. The more I’m bought, the less I’m worth. And you can’t have those words that I just stole. They ain’t my birth. 11.11.23 Trousers back on If you ain’t feelin’ me, ain’t been tryin’. Maybe, you read wid dem roses on. Roses ain’t green. You ain’t foolin’ me; but someone, right? I hope they pay you good. Me, I’m jus’ tryin’ ta be. Now…my dick? Yeah, now it feel good. And sorry, it’s jus’ for me. No need a Buffalo Stance… I’ll try another approach another day. I know you don’t ‘respond’ SVP. p.s. My poor mom…’where do all those words come from?’ She SHOULD have had me tested, instead of calling me ‘different’, her ‘dumb bunny’. You know, a dumb bunny is sick in the head…soon dead from madness. I’m no March hare, mad hatter. She could never see what was the matter? Me neither, until EVERYONE told me otherwise. Then, skinned or marshaled me to some island where echoes of childhood float above black plumes and below these lava boots. I’ve stomped each bitch, one by one, until in my Lost, saw just illusion, someone’s delusion, as others employed guilt and shame from that long ago Time Machine I refuse to board. You get in. Bet you won’t know the date I’ll set it. Edited versh. I wudn’t do you like dat. Pilin’ FBoys like logs fer fire. 🔥 burn. |
I’ve Strayed/When You Tire Don’t know what normal is in your world duplicated tried but it’s all a lie and you hate me for my charade wanting to belong when we like the same song but I just go on deep in the night fighting for some right I’m deep in this fog in a forest four counties long further from you so my voice is no good though I sing to someone just like me each day, each night why they fright to extend a hand I do not know but if found, I’ll hold on make sure we’re never cold or alone maybe, I’ve strayed so far from you because we walk in opposite directions beneath one moon, one sun, one song eternal — that I wrote all the words wrong rearranged, so you’d know there’s something about me that you won’t see undiscovered in every dawn you yawn yet, we hum away to that very same song I’ve noticed I’ve strayed from you accept what lonely is accept that forests and nights guided by one moon I won’t fright and when the sun comes I’ll help someone else be strong help write the lyrics wrong I’ve strayed from your normal yet, between us who’s the one that fears? when the dawn? When you tire of that song? 11.7.23 51 lines, hardly epic I might have written to a different song that invaded my head long after this video died down. Speak right into the clown’s head. Maybe, they‘ll get the order right. Choke on dry chicken without Sprite but seltzer to wash down this life. I’m pretty sure the song in my head was “I’m bad news”. Did I blog that yet? |
You know this is just another pawn I’ve played Even no response reveals each position — the incipient voids. Tried to teach you errors in your ways … Silence … absence of sound proven to be heard. I place another beat down felt a heart echo pleasant sadness that you can no longer come around All you deploy takes effort to lack All I lay on the board emulated strategy I don’t care if you move toward or away — you decide where the Queen is at and who is pawn today Does an absent heart regret, lay down or stay, move, play? Disinterest instills foreplay of red and black game In my infinite space nothingness travels Air molecules fill an inner ear Another heart unraveled today… 11.4.23 I’m always thinking, but not acting, six moves at a time, producing six new avenues each…computation that takes time. I learn to rest one hemisphere at a time, so there’s no lag. https://www.thenationalnews.com/world/2023/07/10/absence-of-sound-scientists-fin... Tag! Somber is one of my happiest moods. I’ll look at this someday and wonder… I’m not not listening. |
| I can assure you anything I do was preceded by some provocation when stripped the right to … That went nowhere. You don’t have to like me Or pity Know what…? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll just keep doing… this. It’s artless when it gets to this Some-thing… robs mind soul unity within unity without starved Drops the knife Not the write tool. Right? |
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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…? 
— 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
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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)
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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)
Thank you for sharing it! It's genius.
