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Harley Hucof Apr 2021
I am gazing at a shining portrait as my desire is announced by distant bell chimes. I merge with the paint and feel absorbed into a different timeline.

In the painting, the wind carries a scent of a familiar tree assorted with the melody of its leaves. It all brings back the memory of a song that I love, that reminds me of a woman I met in a vision from a dream yet I don't know the language it is made of, nor I can sing it for I am dyslexic in the ear.

This is an illusion, I see it. Still, I deem it to be real, similar to a scene that I keep reliving as I wander the mystical golden desert, I wonder is fulfillment an insult or a compliment if attained outside the ordinary strains of sensual accomplishments?
Disconcerted by previous arrangements i think it through to realize this is an illusion is just a tattoo .


Words Of Harfouchism
lucidwaking Apr 2021
Brilliant cherry reds
Scattered like stars across the tile floor.
Their sheen is alluring -
A bright dollar store sparkle;
A candied shimmer to disguise triviality.

All it takes is a jagged nail
To scratch away the lie,
Thinly veiled by a coat of paint and acrylic.
"A person's true colors will always show in time,"
Or so the saying goes.

The deceit is lovely.
It carries an aromatic falsehood
With promises of

                          truth,

                                    gentleness,

                                                    and beauty,

All pretending to glimmer in your plastic ruby eyes.
I gladly welcome critiques. Thanks!
How will you skip your own game now
In which once I lost my whole world?
How much illusions you will create more to avoid your own self?
I screamed for justice
I screamed for justice
I screamed for justice
Behind my every laugh
For my all tears
I didn't repress
To make her smile.
What makes you to stop and not compromise for the sake of your own child self. You scream inside but hold onto the game of reality to say it's false and empty.
Oda Apr 2021
Is this life all a fallacy,
People playing make belief,
Stuck in
dillusional false releif.
Lying to themselves,
Saying, "This is my reality,
Do not tell me anything
Of insanity
And intrude on my normality."
A lethal self-imposed ignorance,
Moving,
Tearing through life
Destroying themselves
and everything they come across.
Is this life just a fallacy,
As I watch them
playing make belief,
Falling in love with vanity.
All so superficial,
Shallow,
meaningless,
Full of poisoning emptiness.
Taking loves purity,
Making one belief
It is just a cruel thing.
But true love will conquer,
Shinning brighter than
a million galaxies.
Bringing Light
To this empty
Consuming
Emotionless
World.
“When an old man dies, a library burns to the ground,” African proverb
Your voice etches deep into my core
Caressing it with winter’s edifice of ice
It finds home in my heart
My heart beats to the rhythm of your sound now
A monologue amongst dialogues
Sound proves to be an analogue of unheard,
Sound is impervious
Yet you spoke a language of love like you know what it means
In a world of love, what is knowledge?
Do you know what you know?
Could reality be just a fragment of imagination?
I can feel your breath on my soul
Rearranging the very fabric of my being
You put me on the precipice of ecstasy
As the winds commands the forest into harmonious whispers
You command my attention, i oblige
Your gaze inspire me to fly
What is it about my soul that you love so much?
Your gaze pierce into me
You've searched deeper than i ever could
There's a chill to it that keeps me warm
Take me home
Holding me isn't enough anymore
Although comforting, i need more
I can't seem to touch you
I've kept the facade but proverbial is not enough anymore
Show yourself!
#love #heart #intimacy
Philip Connett Apr 2021
Death is Illusory a momentary lapse of consciousness
History is Illusory within this context
All shape form configuration must invariably exist again
Within a pulsing one-song
Ezel Apr 2021
You can tell yourself
   my eyes are green
      my hair is blonde
but that won’t make it true.

My eyes are blue
   with yellow rings.
It’s just an illusion,
like how my hair hasn’t seen the sun in ages,
and the blonde has faded into dusty brown.

Do you really see me?
   or do you like the magic trick
      that makes me easier to love?
Sea
I heard a voice
It called me from the deepest greens of the ocean,
It allured me.
It called me again from the distant vortexes of darkness.
It sounded so familiar,  so intimate.

Silver ***** promenaded along the shore, scribbling poetry on the wet sand.
A distant Gandharvan threw light on them, their shells gleamed.

There is silence all around, and darkness.

The air is filled with nothingness.

In me froths a cold sea.
The waves roar against my eyelids and die a shameful death.
A million dreams swim in them.

Days pass by,
I stand here waiting.
Alone.
Come closer, dear voice.
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2021
~
On a clear day
I can see my sister

It's between six and seven o'clock
and a beautiful expanse of water, reflecting her cultivated shores

a nod, a smile,
through the vapor

castles in the air, ruling over
the available light

then in a moment, she's lost
half her height

and bent into arcades, like those
of a Roman aqueduct

evaporate before me she will

the fading of family, a returning
to cold white at the dawning
of an unfriendly expanse

~
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