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Pink Hat  Apr 2014
Illusion
Pink Hat Apr 2014
Was it an illusion?
Words that trigger an attraction
A reply that lays a connection

Was it an illusion?
A look that exposes a sensation
A whisper that defines an emotion

Was it an illusion?
A touch that pushes a button
A kiss that captures a moment

Is it an illusion?
To transform words into reality
To turn moments into eternity

It is an illusion
When words are lost in silence
When affection is met with fear
When All is subsumed in memories

Whilst memories may fade
The illusion remains
We hope for those moments again

Poets love the illusion
Though  Cynics judge us weak
We shall silence their mocking speak

Thank goodness for poets
Dedicated to my curly haired beauty
Àŧùl Apr 2017
^_^
Angel?
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Called The Girl Out Without Knowing Her Name,
"Hey Young Lady!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Thought I Saw Despair In Her Amber Eyes & Must Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Called My Captain & Asked, "Do You See A Girl In That Raft?"
The Captain Just Replied Kindly, "Commodore, Get Married,"
I Looked Apprehensive And He Just Said, "There's No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Enter My Room Down The Stairs Amazed & Confused,
She Floated There As She Waited By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of Hers And Start To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.

7 Paragraphs of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream


Angel Again?

Now I reached the lands again,
Still dazzled and confused I was,
From the encounter with that Angel,
Oh, how she had filled my twilight,
Unable to forget her divinely touch.

Magical touch had enchanted me,
Able to recall it from the voyage,
I stumbled when disembarking,
Oh, it was the first time for me,
My thoughts would last along.

After so many days at the sea,
I planned of bathing properly,
Her illusion tricked me thereto,
Oh how her traces remained on,
Facing mirror, I stood perplexed.

Still unable to accept the reality,
I longed for that night to repeat,
My heart beats Angel in each beat,
Life staged a drama too crazy,
Unwilling to accept the reality.

My body carries the vestiges,
I turn crazier with each bath,
Her lips' traces keep appearing,
Driving me mad is her memory,
God! Bring her to life once more.

I had my powers as a commodore,
I sent for the captain of my ship,
"What bothers you, my commodore,"
And so he asked of me kindly,
Then I told him of her traces.

Smiling he told me yet again,
"I had told you to get married,"
I agreed this time and nodded,
"Alright, search for me a bride,"
Going outside, he smiled plainly.


Angel Surely?

Till Few Months Of Reaching Back,
I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over,
It Drove Me Crazy Her Presence...

Taking Time Out To Search Her Out,
I Went For The Mountainous Path,
It May Cease I Hope These Dreams.

The Horse Made Me Look A Knight,
I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks,
It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim...

Then She Came Into My View Again,
I Prepared For Tackling My Illusion,
It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere.

Took Me To A Safer Place She Then,
I Was Bewildered Again Once More,
It Was Clearing But She Vanished...

Then On My Way, I Stopped To Rest,
I Looked Around For A Place To Sit,
It Came To My View A Huge Tavern.

Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird,
I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest,
It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...


Angel Illusion?

I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?

Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.

I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful face of hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.

She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.

I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.

She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Just Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.

I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.


Angel Not Again!!!

I recovered from the night again,
She had disappeared once more,
Was she using me as a ******???

I was frustrated & also saddened,
My self-control got strengthened,
For I was not a tissue to be used!!!

I have my feelings & my emotions,
Presence and absence torture me,
Ego I had tamed got hurt by now...

I won't let that elusive Angel come,
Questioning I must be her realities,
Illusions will end this time finally!!!

I'll establish an identity of my own,
Dependent I'll not be on the angel,
Was she only a dream & no more???

I had duly asked the aged captain,
To search for a lovely bride very soon,
Oh, so sure I am about afterwards...

I was tailed by the spirit-like angel,
So irritated by her dreary dreams,
On-off, came-gone, again & again!!!

I now would learn to catch angels,
With the plan, I went to the mage,
Should I now learn some spells???

I entered through a dark alleyway,
Was told to visit this strange place,
What comes across - I wondered...

I knocked on the door & she appeared,
Very young she seemed to me now,
Just the age of the angel of dreams!!!

I noticed that she wore a long robe,
So shiny it was silvery like her hair,
Just like the angel of dreams wore...

I rubbed my tired eyes in disbelief,
"Who're you?" I asked very loudly,
"Are you the mage's daughter???"

I wondered for long & she replied,
"Your guess is correct, kind Sailor,"
She beckoned me into the shack...

I set my foot on the wooden floor,
I looked for any sign of the mage,
I want to be set free of the cage!!!

I just thought & thought about it,
But the witch was not to be seen,
Curious I asked, "Where is she???"

"I am my mother," she said calmly,
Perplexed I couldn't say a thing,
My mouth opened once & shut...

I was now about to rise & go away,
But she stopped me with her arms,
"I must show you," so she did say!!!

I did not believe what my eyes saw,
How she changed into the old mage,
Then back into her own daughter???

O I had become confused a lot now,
Why would she transform like this,
I feared if it was actually the angel...


Angel Forever?

Seeing me anxious more than a lot,
The old witch relented a little,
She let me breathe freely,
Back transformed into her daughter,
She touched my forehead,
Then I realized it was sweaty,
Seeing her lovely care I smiled a bit.

So she now lit up a fragrant incense,
The incense seemed so soothing,
She then edged closer to me,
Transcendental wings were visible,
She came even closer to me,
Then the wings simply vanished,
So traceless as if never been there.

It must have been another illusion,
The very day I had set sail to sea,
It was probably carrying over,
Troubling me each non and then,
In my wild dreams, I had seen,
True she could not be & was not,
In my life, the torment was written.

Soon I was pleading to her teary-eyed,
"Please don't torment me, it hurts!"
She looked at me with affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"

I first remembered that night at sea,
The night back at home came next,
I had been seduced by her magic,
This was the real picture every time,
I was weak but I still felt warmer,
The night ship feels like yesterday,
I was in confusion about what to do.

Her face was transitioning rapidly,
The old mother to her daughter,
Her daughter to that very angel,
And back to the old mother witch,
Her smile turned into laughter,
The witch laughing at my cries,
Her face here was contorted a lot.

She seemed to be struggling a lot,
As though fight ensued within,
Soon I figured it out by myself,
First I must **** the witch to help,
So I looked around & grabbed,
The axe that I did spot lying there,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.


Angel Ultimately?
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realized her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind sailor thank thee for freeing me."
Her words reverberating throughout,
What wind - what land - what sea,
Everywhere is her presence as I can see,
The wind whispers her name in my ear,
Since a long long time now all I wear,
Is her scent in my immortalized memory.

"Will you stay with me forever, or,
Will you go back to the heavens?"
Though I really wanted her to stay,
I love her and realize what she felt,
I offered her freedom and a choice,
I was not binding her to me in turn,
Everything was instinctive for me.

She seemed in a serious dilemma,
Struggling hard she was in herself,
I again offered & insisted this time,
"It's better you went back to your world,"
But I knew that she loved me a lot,
She tried hard controlling but said,
"I am in love with you for long."

So I am quite right that she loves me,
I am sure even she can forget me not,
Beading all our memories together,
I now know how I can gain salvation,
Not being another self-centric tantric,
"But you don't belong here dear,
So you shouldn't restrict yourself."

After this, she now looks comfortable & composed,
Ready for making a choice she wore a heart of stone,
Her lips slowly parted revealing a perfect smile,
Pearly smile again ensured me of permanent happiness,
Bright eyes and shiny eyelids of hers seemed so good,
"You can't make me stay away because you love me too,
I will keep coming in your dreams and entice your nights."

But I wanted her in my real-world now,
I prevented her from vanishing again,
I said, "Please stay, now do not go away,
Because I really can not bear that pain,"
She had almost vanished by then,
Listening to my words she chose to wait,
She said, "Even I want forever to stay."

Continuing with her divine dialogue she said,
"Say those golden words to make me stay,"
I immediately confessed, "I love you, Angel,"
"Say you love me too, oh my divine Angel,"
She didn't wait for anything more to say it,
"I love you too, oh my kind & loving sailor,"
Her powers soon left her in a flash of light.
On public demand, I clubbed The "Angel?" Series into one poem.
Nigel Obiya  Oct 2012
Deception
Nigel Obiya Oct 2012
This is the story of a man
The story of a brilliant man
Most men would call him a resilient man
A man of principle and logic
A man who’s principles may defy logic
A man from whom come words with magic
And illusion
The illusion is the man
The illusion is a brilliant man
The illusion would make him appear a resilient man
The illusion of principle and logic
The illusion of principles that appear to defy logic
The illusion is this ‘brilliant man’s’ magic
And deceit
This deceit that is the illusion of the man
This deceit that is the illusion of the man’s brilliance
Of his resilience
Of his principle
Of his logic
The deceit of his principles that apparently defy all levels of logic… that seem to be a notch above our regular reasoning
The deceit of his oratory magic that enthralls us all
Day in, day out
Season out, season in
You know who I’m talking about…
That politician that fooled us for too long, and very soon, will be on his way out.
And before anyone jumps to any conclusions... I'm Kenyan... so I'm not referring to Obama... Whom, ironically enough, is of Kenyan origin, I'm talking about our own leaders
Impulzez Aug 2013
my senses are distorted; thanks to what i feel
my senses are gained; thanks to what i did
my senses are directed; thanks to what i believe
a perceived belief; unseen impressions of reality
you cannot have what you don't give
a kind gesture given unconditionally always births a seed
what was taken from you may never be returned
it may never be gotten again, forget it, let it go
another one would come, when it comes like an illusion
what you believe, say, do to that illusion would either
recreate another illusion or birth a reality
illusions are like the air we breath
stop breathing and you die
breath in a polluted environment and you get sick
Love is an Illusion
what have you done to make your illusion a reality
keep loving it goes round always it will come to you
Love your illusion and your real love will be birth
don't fight love you'd just be punching the air
love Love, that's all it takes to transform it
ArturVRivunov Oct 2011
With time there's nothing visual. . .
Only things. . . due after some fact. . .
What we consider is most purest of things. . .
to some, it's just white hurricane crack. . .
I consider myself. . .
With time all illusions. . . set to the side. . .
Life is pure. . . without a blanket of time. .
We consider,. . . we all make it in rhyme. . .
Someway . . .or another. . .
The world is got so much more then to bother. . .each One another. . .
Then to share with joyful expression,. . . that time but allows us. . .
To the fullest extent,. . . time as illusion. . .
Can only make more then one self,. . . then the other one melt. . .
Getting spanked all around. . . All the crazies do us by belt. . .
What **** is the matter,. . . has time cut into your butter. . .
Greasing up all the streets,. . . boiling off all intelligence. .
Even speaker who shares with the world with poetic intelligence,. . .
thats love to the life. . . . with the time with his neighbors. . .
Such life is a streamer,. . . streaming through time, . . .
time of one's life surrounded by steam of another. . .
When we cram on one another, time is illusion. .
running over. . . creating a fusion. . .
one from another creating confusion. . .time is illusion. . .
To look at a counter, less fulfilment then want her. .
Because time as illusion. . . invades escape from this cooky confusion. . .
When eyes set bound to imposter, your dream in reality. . .
always forming when time is without a solution, . . .
just letting it go. . . unfurls deep worlds we've only just known. . .
beyond in time is the scape. . .where numbers be running. . .
a world out of shape. . . If time was a matter. . .
To please all our moods. . . this world would be great. . . but The world is so great. . .
all musicians we are, i promiss you know it. . .we flow around with each other. . .
But time has concealed her, to even distinct, the sound of the peaceful. .
Where sound is a stink. . .to even consider, where **** did we all go. . .
looking for clocks, on rocks and a mirror. . .
Time grieve, be a mirror. . For only as far as it goes, you'll never see her. . .
If time is illusion, our minds won't confuse her. . only to melt with the extra minute on clock. . .
To consider every moment,. . . . time is illusion. . .that every moment is just a matter of memory. .
In each other, and in some. . . Some parts are for bad, to refuse on the good,
and some parts are for good to refuse on the bad. . .
Positive time is our best, with time. . You forget its illusion when roaming galant and free. . .
Far from illusion hidden behind, there is a consorted of sorts. . . . misery. . Time is illusion
(Prelude: This piece is a parable with the imagination of a female named Allison with a ghostly presence residing in a suit of Knight's armor).

“They are of a better order” said the armor,
“A better order of beings in heaven.”

“Have you been to heaven?”
Allison asked the armor and
Quickly upon his ancient, blank steel gaze
She instantly felt a civil triumph
Hidden within her inquiry.


“Strange,” he responded,
"Strange it is that it is so far away
And yet it is right here
Inside of us all along.”

She gave him the hint of a
Curious gaze before placing
Her hand on her chest while saying,
“Are you saying heaven is in here?”

He replies,
“You think about it for a while and
When you have sufficiently parodied
The thought we shall think
Upon it again for I give
Up the argument for now -
I must retire” - and so he went
Wherever a ghost goes to rest.
There he wandered around
In the infinity of his mind until
A knock on the steel helmet came.
He answers through the opening,
“Who is it?”
Knowing all the while whom it was.

He opened the visor,
Showing the emptiness within.
She looked in his visor and
Giggled a girlish giggle
Saying, “I would carry this picture
With me to my grave -
My self professed conscience standing
Here in the doorway of my life
Looking into a metal head as
Empty as a hollow balloon,”
She giggled some more.
She pushed the visor open wider and
Stuck a finger in without
Any further solicitation
Saying as she looked about the emptiness,
“Shall I set foot in your dominion?”
Then she turned to him placing her hand
On her chest again as before,
“Or shall you set foot in mine?”


McDermott peaked thru to answer
Allison to find her now sitting on the edge
Of the bed – skillfully untying and
Removing her shoes as
She looked about the room.

Before he could answer and
Just as skillfully
She changed the subject, “You have a
Fine room here, quite roomy,
I think it must be twice the size of mine.”

The sun was setting outside the doubled
Windows and through the curtains
The light that filled the room tinted the
Contents of the room a crimson red.

There they were, quite all alone,
Her sitting on the bed,
Him encased in his Knight’s suit of armor.
Each waiting for the other
To make some sort of move.
Turning away from her,
Not to avoid the inevitable but
To experience the possible –
McDermott says,
“But this is your room.”
Pointing to the room receipt
On the top of the dresser,
“See, it has your name on it.
I am merely a figment of your imagination,
Something you have conjured up.”

“I know, I know,
You have said all this before,”
Pounding her fists into the
Bed as she cries,
“Cannot you for once come
From inside that
Silly suit of armor so that I may see you?”

“Look at the receipt, what does it say?” McDermott answers.

“I told you, I know,
It has my name as the registered
Guest of the Knights Inn, so what?
Have I not been coming here
Every year for three years,
Every year for the week of All Saint’s Day,
Just so that I can be with you?
And every year it’s the same old thing –
You speak like you are
Somewhere in a barrel,
And I never see you, I just feel you.”

“It is not with your ears that you hear me,
It is with your heart,”
McDermott explains,
“You come here year after year
Looking for truth –
Can you accept that I am
Only here if you are here?”

Sprawling out backwards across the bed,
She replies with disgust,
“Truth – what truth is this –
That I have lost my mind?”

“One can only loose what one has
Not unlike one cannot
Have what one wants,
For having and wanting
Are diametrically opposed,” he explains.

“Stop with the philosophical
Mumbo jumbo,” she says as she
Turns to scream into the pillow.
“I’m so sick of it that I could die.”
At the moment of that last syllable spoken, Allison can feel another
Weight joining her on the bed.
Daring not to whisk the feeling away
She holds her breath, listening –
Feeling for more confirmation.

“You cannot love another until you learn
To love yourself,” McDermott whispers.

Jumping off the bed and to her feet,
“You’ve told me all this before,
But why am
I here if it is not to love you?
And if you are as you say you are,
Just another
Of my creations, then pray tell me,
Why can you not accept that fact and just
Simply be here with me?
Why else am I here?”

“You are here to find out who you are.
That’s why anyone comes here.
That truth is something that No ONE can
TEACH you.
It is something that you
Have to remember.”

Looking about the empty room
Allison once again turns and
Sits on the bed.
“OK, I give in –
YOU tell ME, WHO AM I?”

“Just lie down and get comfortable.
You need your rest.
We’ll talk in your sleep.
We have much territory to cover tonight.
Tomorrow is All Saint’s Day, your day.
But tonight we must explore
All the wonders of you,
For in the morning you
Shall awaken knowing
The real you – the one that you
Have been searching for.”

Slithering out of her dress and
Removing her bra
Allison turns her head to the empty
Pillow beside her,
“You promise?” she asks.

“I promise,” McDermott replies.

Drifting off into a shallow sleep,
Allison is listening as
McDermott recites poetry.
It’s an odd recital but somehow it seems
As if she has heard this verse before.

“Sand sifting through my fingers
Measuring the time ‘til our bodies linger.
To know the smell of the center
Of your hand,
To see into those deepest of eyes -
Oh, to feel those sighs.

Sometimes I don’t think I can wait
Not another day but then it’s too late.
How can I know that all this is real
When I’ve not even a finger to feel.
Thoughts, visions of heart –
Feelings of soul –
Up to now that is all that I know.
So if you find me lost in this moment,
Please release me from this sweet torment.
For inside the fire is burning
Hotter than hell and so full of yearning.

Maybe this is not the right place -
Maybe this is not the right time.

But I ask you, is it a crime
To watch the sand as it rhymes?
Measuring the time ‘til our bodies linger
And I have the you – lost in my fingers.”

“What is the title?” Allison asks in her sleep.

“Oh you know the title very well,” McDermott answers.
“Think about it and you will remember.”

Allison’s eyes move beneath the
REM sleep with closed eyelids,
Back and forth, back and forth,
Looking for the title to the poem.
Then she answers with a smile,
“Hourglass, the title of the poem is,
Hourglass.”

“Very good,” McDermott confirms.
“See you do remember.”

“But how do I remember –
Something tells me that
I am not supposed to remember.”

“Your mind tells you that you
Have no memory of the poem
But your heart tells you that you do.”

“Yes.” she answers.

“Could it be that just when
You find your dearest love
That you also meet your greatest fear?
Then too avoid the fear –
You try not to remember."

“Why do you say that?” she asks.

“Because those are the two sponsoring
Thoughts behind all human endeavors.
All of the human emotions stem from
Either love or from fear.”

In her sleep Allison turns
More toward the empty pillow,
“Who are you?”

“Have you not determined
To call me McDermott?
Why do you struggle to believe that
I cannot be unless I have a name?”

“I suppose it’s because everything
Has a name.” Allison responds.

“No, everything of this world
Has something that it is called,
That does not exactly mean that
It has a name or needs one.”

“Then who are you?”
She asks breathing in deeply.

“It matters not what you call me –
That has been one of the great
Mistakes of human nature,
What is more important is that you know
That I am, just like that
I know that you are.”

“Are you God?”
She asks shaking her head.

“See, there you go again,
Be careful of those labels,
Once you put a label
On me, then by that labeling
Do you place upon me your expectations.
And once something is expected
To do something in a certain way,
Then have you created boundaries,
In essence,
You have created walls around me,
Walls around your own thoughts -
To the degree that we can
No longer communicate.”

“How would you prefer that I think
Of you?” Allison asks.

“Do not “think” of me in terms of
Mere words,
For words fall far too short
Of explaining any of truth
Of who or what I am.
You should think of me as
You would think of yourself for
Are we not one in the same?
If I said that I am the great 'I am'
And if you were to believe that to be true,
Would not that make you the
Great 'I am' too?”

“I’m sorry, I do not understand,
Are you saying that you are me?
Am I talking to myself?” she questioned.

“You are asleep, when you awake,
Would you say that we are talking?”

“No, I would say that I was dreaming
And that you are like you said that you
Were before I went to sleep,
I would say that you are a
Figment of my imagination.”

“Does that explain how it is that you
Know the name of the poem?”
McDermott asks.

“I don’t know, I’m dreaming I suppose,
Dreams don’t have to make any sense.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“Not really,” Allison answers.
Even though she is asleep
She can feel herself
Turning over and pushing away
Some of the bedding.
“Give me an incontrovertible way
Of knowing that you are real.”

“Oh Allison, the only way that
I could ever give you such proof
Is if I were
To physically touch you and to do that
I would need a physical form.
Yet I say to you,
I have no need of anything physical
For all of your physical reality
Is but a part of the grand illusion.”

“Grand illusion,
Are you saying that my life
Is just one big illusion?” Allison questions.

“In a sense, yes.
For it is you who does create
Your own reality.
And if what you create is
Not what you want,
Is that creation not what
The definition of “illusion” means?”

“But why would I create anything that
I do not want?” she asks.

“Good question, why don’t you tell me?”

“Who’s to say that I truly have not created you?”
Allison asks.

“Another good question, what do you think?”

“Why would you talk to me?” she asks.

“I talk to everyone all the time.
The question is not to with
Whom do I talk,
But who listens?”

“I’m listening.” Allison exclaims.

“Another good answer.
Maybe it would be easier if
We exchanged the word
“Talk” for the word communicate,
I think that’s a much
Better descriptive word.
If we try to simply just talk then we
Are restricted by the limitations of words.
I do not communicate by words alone,
In fact, I rarely do.
I usually communicate through
Feelings for feelings are
The language of the soul.
For this reason,
If you want to know
The truth about anything,
Look to how you are feeling about it.
Hidden in your deepest feelings
You’ll always find your higher truth.
I can communicate with thought
But don’t confuse thought with feelings.
When I communicate with thought
I often use images, sounds or pictures.
Are they not much more descriptive?
I also use experience to communicate with.
The fact that you remembered
The name of the poem
Is a communication by experience.
It is only when feelings,
Thought or experience
Fails that I use words.
However, words are the least effective
Communicator because words
Are too easily misinterpreted or confused.
Words are not a good way to get
To the truth for they are part
Of the illusion of trying
To convey the feelings,
The thoughts and the experiences.
The irony in this is that
So many place their feelings,
Thoughts and experience in the words
That they try to say and very little
On the experience of who they are.
The same is true of how
You define who you are.
You define yourself within
A set of words and
Lose all reality of who you really are.
Therefore you create
The illusion of yourself
Just as you have created
The illusion of me.”

Allison turns on her side into
The fetal position,
“You said that tonight
That I would discover who I am –
Does that mean that in order to discover
Who I am that I must learn
To know who you are?”

“You are not learning anything.
You are remembering who you are
For you always were and
You always will be.
You cannot learn what you already know.
You can only remember.”

“And what is that?” she asks intently.

“You are your creation,
I come from you so that you
Might know yourself.
That is why I exist,
So that you may experience yourself.”

As Allison drifts between the alpha of
REM sleep and the delta of REM
Into stage three of tonight’s slumber,
She carries with her into her deepest
Sleep the thoughts of herself
As one with all of God’s creation.
“God the father, God the son,
God the holy ghost,”
She whispers aloud.
“Are we all your sons and daughters?”
She asks.

“Yes you are,
The trinity would not be complete
Without you,
Not without every one of you.”

“So that is who I am?” she whispers.

“Welcome to who you are,
Who you have always been,
Who you ever shall be,
Today, it is All Saint’s Day,
What reality will you create today?

Always remember,
There are only two base emotions,
Love and fear.
You can choose to act out of love
Or you can choose to act out of fear.
The choice is as always –
The choice is yours.”

“Will you be with me today –
To help me to choose?”

“I am always with you.”

“Will I find love today?” Allison asks.

“You question is improper.
“You should be asking yourself,
Will I create love today?”


*“But wouldn’t that be another illusion?
Another figment of
My imagination?” she questions.

“Is there a difference?
And even if there was, does it matter?
All that matters is that
Through your own experience,
You remember who you are
And experience
What you really want to be.
That is the truth of creation.”

Drifting off into the deepest sleep
Of her life,
Allison listens to McDermott
Reciting his poetry again and again.
I bled a lot writing this piece. I hope that somehow, somewhere, someone can read it and create that which they were destined to experience.
Christian Bixler Dec 2016
I dreamt once of falling,
falling, through
the tales of my life;
and everything
was dim, and my
truths were twisted,
distorted into beings
of fantasy, of light,
and of darkness.
I saw then that this
was because my eyes,
though turned inward,
had yet to cleanse
themselves of the dust
of illusion, which is the
nature of existence,
and which, though neither
good nor bad, is an obstacle
to the perception of the
truth. Thus, when I looked
upon my truths of vision,
I recognized that these were
doubly mine, for they were
formed not only of experience,
but of illusion, and the dreamings
of my mind. And I acknowledged,
in dream, that this was neither good,
nor bad. Determined, however, in
the view of my understanding,
flawed as it was through its
passage into my-self, through
my-self, I looked about me for
the eye of my beholding, that
I might wash it clean with
the realization of its folly,
and I saw that I was within the
eye of my perception, and that
it was in me, and that in ultimate
reality, my Self was the essence,
and the quintessential embodiment
of the eye of my perception,
which was clouded through the
veil of existence, but which
possessed the power to see into
the depths of the universe, and
into the sacred mysteries of
the cosmic heart. Therefore, I
reached outside myself, into the
vastness of the universe,
and inside myself, into the
intricacies of my heart, and
found there my eyes, and
wiped them clean. Held in my
hands, within the clasp of
my fingers, blind I saw, as my
eyes saw, the pulsing of the
veins through my fingers,
webbed and branching
bridges, filled with the blood
of my heart, which was life,
which was the essence of
the universe; for within every
speck of nothingness, I saw, were
the seeds for a thousand, thousand
universes, of boundless life. And I
saw, in that moment in dream, that
there is no end to nothingness,
and so is no end to life, even in the
midst of all absence. Seeing this, I
released my eyes, and
my sight returned to me; and I
saw through it my distorted truths.
And before the sight of the eye
of my perception, cleansed of the fog
of life, which had clung to it
unceasing, from the moment of my
birth, free of all illusion, I for the first
time beheld myself; and I wept, in joy,
and in sadness, for I saw then that
what I had perceived as the distortions
of illusion, were in reality, but the
essence of my truth, tilted so,
that the light of my perception would
scatter upon them, shattering into a
thousand fragments of reflected hues,
and that these were not the images of
falsehood, but rather my Truth, colored
in the truth of my perception, into a
form that I could understand, within
the illusion, that is the nature of
existence. I saw this, and wept, and in
weeping, my heart was cleansed,
and my soul was freed of the burden of
existence, and of perception. Adrift then
in the nothingness of my Being, I recognized
that I was not, and yet, that I was, unique
in the vast glory of the oneness of my soul
with the soul of the universe, which is the light
of all souls, future, past, and present, as it is
One soul, of all, above all, within all,
which is Love, and Truth.

I saw this, in the nothingness of
my being, which was in truth,
everything, as it was nothing,
in time and out of time,
in the glory of change in stasis,
and stasis, within change.
I saw this, in that moment,
in dream, outside of all
moments, in the circle
of time; and I woke,
to the illusion of the world,
forgetful as always,
as to the nature of
Dream.
Written late at night, in love, and in weariness.
Àŧùl Jan 2020
XOXOXOX
Angel?
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Doesn't Much Respond,
She Looks Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I Spot Desperation In Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Captain Now Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look So Clueless To Which He Simply Replied, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
7 Stanzas of a Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream
My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Again?
Now I Reached The Lands Again,
Still Dazzled And Confused I Was,
Oh How She Had Filled My Twilight,
Unable To Forget Her Divinely Touch.

Magical Touch Had Enchanted Me,
Able To Recall It From The Voyage,
I Stumbled When Disembarking,
Oh - It Was The First Time For Me,
My Thoughts Would Last Along.

After So Many Days At The Sea,
I Planned Of Bathing Properly,
Her Illusion Tricked Me Thereto,
Oh - How Her Traces Remained On,
Facing The Mirror, I Stood Perplexed.

Still Unable To Accept The Reality,
I Longed For That Night To Repeat,
My Heart Beats Angel In Each Beat,
Life Staged A Drama Too Crazy,
Unwilling To Accept The Reality.

My Body Carries The Vestiges,
I Turn Crazier With Each Bath,
Her Lips' Traces Keep Appearing,
Driving Me Mad Is Her Memory,
God! Bring Her To Life Once More.

I Had My Powers As A Commodore,
I Sent For The Captain Of My Ship,
"What Bothers You, My Commodore,"
And So He Asked Of Me Kindly,
Then I Told Him About Her Traces.

Smiling He Told Me Yet Again,
"I Had Told You To Get Married,"
I Agreed This Time And Nodded,
"Alright, Search For Me A Bride,"
Going Outside, He Smiled Plainly.
My HP Poem #766
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Surely?
Till Few Months Of Reaching Back,
I Kept Seeing Her Images All Over,
It Drove Me Crazy, Her Presence...

Taking Time Out To Search Her Out,
I Went For The Mountainous Path,
It May Cease I Hope These Dreams.

The Horse Made Me Look A Knight,
I Set Out Solo For The Dark Creeks,
It Helped Me Realize My Solo Aim...

Then She Came Into My View Again,
I Was Prepared For Tackling My Illusion,
It Started Snowing Out Of Nowhere.

Took Me To A Safer Place She Then,
I Was Bewildered Again Once More,
It Was Clearing But She Vanished...

Then On My Way I Stopped To Rest,
I Looked Around For A Place To Sit,
It Came To My View A Huge Tavern.

Tavern On A Mountain Was Weird,
I Still Went To It Hoping Some Rest,
It Had Appeared Out Of Nowhere...
My HP Poem #839
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Illusion?
I Peered Out Of The Room Windows,
I Was In This Desolate Guesthouse,
It Was A Comfortable Rest House,
And Here I Was In Anticipation,
Angel Or Whosoever Was Awaited,
Will She Pop Into My Vision Here Too,
Was It Only A Seasick Mind's Illusion?

Was All That Really Just An Illusion,
Thinking This I Prepared For Bed,
Then I Felt A Flute Was Playing,
Looked Into Sound's Direction,
All I Saw Then Was Foggy Night,
My Own Reflection Was Also Visible,
Slightly If Not Entirely Can Be Seen.

I Recalled The First Night At The Sea,
She Did Appear On The Towed Raft,
A Beautiful Mermaid I Had Seen,
Now I Did Remember It Clearly,
My Face Was No Longer Mine,
Yes It Was The Beautiful face of hers,
She Wasn't Sad As I Did Remember.

She Was Smiling So Very Divinely,
Her Brown Eyes Stared So Cutely,
More Divine Felt She Was Really,
I Thought That It Was So Early,
My Pocket Watch Showed Three,
I Took My Eyes Off And Went To Bed,
Then & There She Was Lying For Me.

I Again Let My Mind Play Games,
Never Did Imagine Turning Mad,
Now I Was Not Feeling As Bad,
Neither I Wanted To Break It,
Nor It Felt Like One Anymore,
This Was The Dream I Loved To Live,
As If The Boon Was Presented To Me.

She Smiled As I Sat On The Bed,
I Asked Her, "Are You Real?"
"Yes, Just As Your Thoughts,"
I Then Stared At Her Lips,
She Then Touched Me Again,
Hands As Soft As That Night At Sea,
I Just Felt Like Opposing Her Touch.

I Blankly Smiled And Thought,
'My Thoughts Are Surely Real,'
Then I Just Let Her Guide Me,
The Moon Shone So Bright,
It Just Felt Really So Very Right,
Resigning I Just Let My Illusion Win,
It's Love We Were Sharing, Not A Sin.
My HP Poem #848
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Not Again!!!
I Recovered From The Night Again,
She Had Disappeared Once More,
Was She Using Me As A ******???

I Was Frustrated & Also Saddened,
My Self-Control Got Strengthened,
For I Was Not A Tissue To Be Used!!!

I Have My Feelings & My Emotions,
Presence And Absence Torture Me,
Ego I Had Tamed Got Hurt By Now...

I Won't Let That Elusive Angel Come,
Questioning I Must Be Her Realities,
Illusions Will End This Time Finally!!!

I'll Establish An Identity Of My Own,
Dependent I'll Not Be On The Angel,
Was She Just A Dream & No More???

I Had Duly Asked The Aged Captain,
To Search For Me A Lovely Bride Soon,
Oh, So Sure I Am About Afterwards...

I Was Tailed By The Spirit-Like Angel,
So Irritated By Her Dreary Dreams,
On-Off, Came-Gone, Again & Again!!!

I Now Would Learn Catching Angels,
With The Plan, I Went To The Mage,
Should I Now Learn Some Spells???

I Entered Through A Dark Alleyway,
Was Told To Visit This Strange Place,
What Comes Across - I Wondered...

I Knocked The Door & She Seemed,
Very Young She Seemed To Me Now,
Just The Age Of The Angel Of Dreams!!!

I Noticed That She Wore A Long Robe,
So Shiny It Was Silvery Like Her Hair,
Just Like The Angel Of Dreams Wore...

I Rubbed My Tired Eyes In Disbelief,
"Who're You?" I Asked Very Loudly,
"Are You The Mage's Daughter???"

I Wondered For Long & She Replied,
"Your Guess Is Correct, Kind Sailor,"
She Beckoned Me Into The Shack...

I Set My Foot On The Wooden Floor,
I Looked For Any Sign Of The Mage,
I Want To Be Set Free Of The Cage!!!

I Just Thought & Thought About It,
But The Witch Was Not To Be Seen,
Curious I Asked, "Where Is She???"

"I Am My Mother," She Said Calmly,
Perplexed I Couldn't Say A Thing,
My Mouth Opened Once & Shut...

I Was Now About To Rise & Go Away,
But She Stopped Me With Her Arms,
"I Must Show You," So She Did Say!!!

I Believed Not What My Eyes Saw,
How She Changed Into The Old Mage,
Then Back Into Her Own Daughter???

O I Had Become Confused A Lot Now,
Why Would She Transform Like This,
I Feared If It Was Actually The Angel...
My HP Poem #850
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Forever?
Seeing Me Anxious More Than A Lot,
The Old Witch Relented A Little,
She Let Me Breathe Freely,
Back Transformed Into Her Daughter,
She Touched My Forehead,
Then I Realized It Was Sweaty,
Seeing Her Lovely Care I Smiled A Bit.

So She Now Lit Up A Fragrant Incense,
The Incense Seemed So Soothing,
She Then Edged Closer To Me,
Transcendental Wings Were Visible,
She Came Even Closer To Me,
Then The Wings Simply Vanished,
So Traceless As If Never Been There.

It Must Be Yet Another Illusion,
The Very Day I Set Sail To Sea,
It Was Probably Carrying Over,
Troubling Me Each Non & Then,
In My Wild Dreams, I Had Seen,
True She Could Not Be & Was Not,
In My Life, The Torment Was Written.

Soon I Was Pleading To Her, Teary-Eyed,
"Please Don't Torment Me, It Hurts!"
She Looked At Me With Affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"


I First Remembered That Night At Sea,
The Night Back At Home Came Next,
I Had Been Seduced By Her Magic,
This Was The Real Picture Every Time,
I Was Weak But I Still Felt Warmer,
The Night Ship Feels Like Yesterday,
I Was In Confusion About What To Do.

Her Face Was Transitioning Rapidly,
The Old Mother To Her Daughter,
Her Daughter To That Very Angel,
And Back To The Old Mother Witch,
Her Smile Turned Into Laughter,
The Witch Laughing At My Cries,
Her Face Here Contorted A Lot.

She Seemed To Struggle A Lot,
As Though A Fight Ensued Within,
Soon I Figured It Out By Myself,
That I Must **** The Witch To Help,
So I Looked Around & Grabbed,
An Axe That I Spotted Lying There,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.
My HP Poem #859
©Atul Kaushal

Angel Ultimately?
The saga in her eyes converts into a constant downpour soon after she realizes her freedom from the spell of the dark witch, the curse had turned her a prisoner in the evil witch's body.

"Kind Sailor Thank Thee For Freeing Me."
Her Words Reverberate Throughout,
What Wind - What Land - What Sea,
Everywhere Is Her Presence As I See,
The Wind Whispers Her Name In My Ear,
Since A Long-Long Time Now All I Wear,
Her Scent Is Immortalized In My Memory.

"Will You Stay With Me Forever, Or,
Will You Go Back To The Heavens?"

Though I really wanted her to stay,
I Love Her & Realize What She Felt,
I Offered Her Freedom & A Choice,
I Was Not Binding Her To Me In Turn,
Everything Was Instinctive For Me.

She Seemed In A Serious Dilemma,
Struggling Hard She Was In Herself,
I Again Offered & Insisted This Time,
"It's Better To Go Back To Your World,"
But I Knew That She Loved Me Too,
She Tried Hard Controlling But Said,
"I Am In Love With You Since Long."

So I Am Quite Right That She Loves Me,
I Am Sure Even She Can Forget Me Not,
Beading All Our Memories Together,
I Now Know How I Can Gain Salvation,
Not Being Another Self-Centric Tantric,
"But You Don't Belong Here, Dear Angel,
You Shouldn't Torture Yourself For A Mortal."


After This, She Now Looks Comfortable & Composed,
Ready For Making A Choice She Wore A Heart Of Stone,
Her Lips Slowly Parted Revealing A Perfect Smile,
Pearly Smile Again Ensured Me Of Permanent Happiness,
Bright Eyes & Shiny Eyelids Of Hers Seemed So Good,
"You Can't Make Me Stay Away Because You Love Me Too,
I'll Keep Coming To Your Dreams & Entice Your Nights."


But I Wanted Her In My Real World Now,
I Prevented Her From Vanishing Again,
I Said, "Please Stay, Now Do Not Go Away,
Because I Really Can Not Bear The Pain,"

She Had Almost Vanished By Now,
Listening To My Words She Chose To Wait,
She Said, "Even I Want Forever To Stay."

Continuing With Her Divine Dialogue She Said,
"Say Those Golden Words To Make Me Stay,"
I Immediately Confessed, "I Love You, Angel,"
"Say You Love Me Too, Oh My Divine Angel,"
She Didn't Wait For Anything More To Say It,
"I Love You Too, Oh My Kind & Loving Sailor,"
Her Powers Soon Left Her In A Flash Of Light.
My HP Poem #860
©Atul Kaushal
I was suggested to put together all these related poems by my friends, readers and mentors.
My HP Poem #1822
©Atul Kaushal

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/
pri  Sep 2018
your illusion
pri Sep 2018
some days, i feel the guilt churn in my gut,
like my insides have been replaced with syrup,
and i’m slowly being swallowed and crystallized in amber.
every secret i’ve kept from you whispers, begs to come out of my mouth,
because you love an illusion. but you’ve given the illusion so much love.

other days, i set the guilt on fire.
i feel oh so angry at you, for keeping us apart (unknowingly),
and i want to see your perfect world fall away,
as you realize that you’ve been living and loving,
me. the illusion.

underneath everything, i am tired.
i see circles like black holes form around tired bright eyes.
i see a lover, even though you think i do not have such love.
i see a secret, that burns like fire and strikes like storm.

you still see your happy girl
-but i am all that and so much more.

my dreams are still the same, my mother.
but there is another.
i dream that we walk together, i dream of her voice,
i dream of her in the night when i am alone and wonder why we can’t fall asleep hand in hand.

your lovely illusion is long gone,
resting in a beautiful of childhood
-with happy days, textbooks, the loud and strong proclamations:
saying that anyone who found such a love was a fool.

gone is the girl who you tell me about:
“i’m so proud that you listen to us and share our values -you’re wonderful.”
some days my mind screams
i do, i do, i do.

and others, it sneers are you.
it wants the ugly words to burst out like a swarm of angry bees
-yes i do. but i dream of women in ways you never would.
your perfect world would shatter, and we’d be destroyed.
my illusion holds it all together.

and i look up, and i see the day where no one needs my illusion anymore.
i’ll come to you with her, someone, her and sit down and tell you everything.
i was 15, mom. i love her. and whether i wish for it or not
-her world will shatter.

then i wonder, if she’ll be there one day.
i imagine walking down an aisle of roses.
i imagine flying to somewhere far away to ask for blessings
-their perfect worlds will shatter. to them, we’re barely not criminals.
but i hope they love us still.

and sometimes i imagine you,
and me,
in a place where we don’t have to worry.
doing things with each other that no one would ever imagine
-where no one will ever find out.

why is it such a crime to love you?
i love you. against all odds, i love you.

i love you when i’m told that love like ours is not the way we were made -that its disgusting.
i love you when people look at us and wonder who we are.
i love you when i worry about someone finding out about us.
i love you when i hate the world for trying to tear us apart.
i love you when someone says love.

sometimes, i think that is what i hide.
a long silk skirt of realities and lies,
swirling around our love.
and oh, that skirt casts a light like broken glass shards.
to my mother, my family, and your family. i love you.
note: i am my mother's illusion.
irsorai Aug 2015
I live constantly between reality and Illusion.
I don’t know where ends or begins the other.
What’s reality? Isn't illusion part of reality?
Or is reality part of illusion? But what’s illusion after all?

Between thin lines,
I see the shore of those broken ideas.
Along the springs of my heart,
I see flows against tides.

Where do I belong?
What do I seek?
It is me or does everything seem blurry?
I am a capital energy of this passivity place.

I am real. Am I?
Copyright © irsorai
I stand at the brink of illusion
Not knowing which way to trek.
Beyond the barrier is cold, barren reality.
Reality which comes to smack me in the face,
Reality which wakes me from my dreams.
I stand on the brink of illusion
Not knowing whether to stay.
Before the barrier is blissful oblivion.
Illusion that holds me close in my sleep,
Illusion that never lets me wake.
In which land should I venture?
Which should I chose?

— The End —