"deludes" poems
A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
A girl mad as birds
Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume.
Strait in the mazed bed
She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds
Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,
At large as the dead,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.
She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall,
Possessed by the skies
She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust
Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears.
And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.
7.5k
Hungry filthy eyes
From every corner
It spies
Lustful desire ignition
Hardly any blinks
Sparks temptation
The growth of hunger
On youthful body
Deludes my anger
It hunts upon everyone
Especially the feminines
Carrying a gun
Streets pollute such eyes
Some cross, some straight
Most full with lies
Each day my eye meets
Such perverts
With viciously lustrous greets...
©sim
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
refusal of life
of me
of everything
as i sink deeper in this world
of shadows and puppets
nothing is real
all is magic
of the other kind-
that terrifies
and drowns out the sounds
of the pitiful cries
all is Maaya-
that ethereal goddess
so beautiful, so golden
the eternal mirage-
His handmaiden-partner in crime
she deludes and confuses
holds me captive in her embrace
i forget myself and refuse
to see the truth
who wants that-
when the lies are so lovely!
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
No young man believes he shall ever die. There is a feeling of Eternity in youth, which makes us amend for everything. To be young is to be as one of the Immortal Gods. One half of time indeed is flown-the other half remains in store for us with all its countless treasures; for there is no line drawn, and we see no limit to our hopes and wishes. We make the coming age our own -- The vast, the unbounded prospect lies before us.
Death. old age. are words without a meaning. that pass by us like the idea air which we regard not. Others may have undergone, or may still be liable to them-we "bear a charmed life”, which laughs to scorn all such sickly fancies. As in setting out on delightful journey, we strain our eager gaze forward- Bidding the lovely scenes at distance hail!-and see no end to the landscape, new objects presenting themselves as we advance; so, in the commencement of life, we set no bounds to our inclinations. nor to the unrestricted opportunities of gratifying them. we have as yet found no obstacle, no disposition to flag; and it seems that we can go on so forever. We look round in a new world, full of life, and motion, and ceaseless progress; and feel in ourselves all the vigor and spirit to keep pace with it, and do not foresee from any present symptoms how we shall be left behind in the natural course of things, decline into old age, and drop into the grave. It is the simplicity, and as it were abstractedness of our feelings in youth, that (so to speak) identifies us with nature, and (our experience being slight and our passions strong) deludes us into a belief of being immortal like it. Our short-lives connection with existence we fondly flatter ourselves, is an indissoluble and lasting union-a honeymoon that knows neither coldness, jar, nor separation. As infants smile and sleep, we are rocked in the cradle of our wayward fancies, and lulled into security by the roar of the universe around us. we quaff the cup of life with eager haste without draining it, instead of which it only overflows the more objects press around us, filling the mind with their magnitude and with the strong of desires that wait upon them, so that we have no room for the thoughts of death.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
Zombifying minds of many,
dooming them to a life rooted
in the ground. The didactic lay
forgotten, decaying in a
graveyard of tattered pages, old
typewriters, and eight-track tapes.
Monotonous drama deludes
these robots into surviving
in a reality teeming
with **** and drugs, ****** and lies.
Optimism overshadowed,
out-shined forever by filth.
But even I still succumb to
this regime, an addict to his
fixation. Plug in, power on,
and wait to retrieve the signal,
for my brain to be white noise while
potatoes grow on couches.
Aug 27, 2010
Aug 27, 2010 at 9:55 AM UTC
In a universe where nothing could be everything
and everything could be nothing
I wake up blinded by the sun and my weak eyes struggle to conform
but her power desires me
In a universe where silence can ring ears
and actual sirens can calm them
My engine rustles with promise as I drive down the unpaved road
I am cement, and spill out of my windows into the potholes as I pass
Shadows of trees fold over behind me as outlines of roofs emerge
one day I’ll drive and count them all
In a universe where we worship time
but it repays by pilfering our youth
I make out silhouettes through the strands of my ***** hair
Your tie taunts me, perched confidently on the base of your neck
My fears in the flesh, enveloped in dark eyes and strong posture
one day I’ll face him eye to eye
In a universe where we long for love
but company deludes us
I eat dinner alone at a table for six
and stare longingly through one of my three big windows
My mom probably called but my phone’s been on silent
one day I’ll get free time and call her back
In a universe where nothing could be everything
and everything could be nothing
My pillow steals my thoughts for the closing hours of the night
and I ponder on how much of me it’ll return when I wake up in the morning
Solipsism
(10.16.2020)
—adrianatamara
Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 10:07 AM UTC
*This bed seems so huge,
so wide
and yet here we lay
like we're
oceans away
in the Mediterranean*
*spaced-out from each other,
your so far from me.*
*We're spent,
in deliberate denial,
unfinished or satisfied
without words,
without understanding,*
*we hold onto our lacerated heart's,
giving in the only way known
carnally,unabated & undoubted*
*least in the carnal way.
I crave the unknown,
to be explored like never before,*
*to be made whole
and touched within my soul,
where my body ignites
from the inside out.*
*I'd like to know
what it'd feel like to be*
consumed
*by "Love's"
* lustful ******
*more than the
heat of passion,*
*in such a way
which leaves me quaking,
shaking, quivering
and yearning for more.*
*Once we've spent our
feverish attempts
on last-night's seductions,
under a moonlit sky,*
*I'm left inexorable,
as my body spasms,
longing for more than
what the flesh attempts to give.*
*I'll argue against the pejorative
illusions of our love making,
which deludes my mind*
to believe this is what
*it means to have
"Love's" acceptance*
*without the actuality's
of loving me....*
*We were intoxicated-
with wonderment
as we explored
one another,*
*yet
"Love's"
*touch nor "Love's"
*inspirational caresses
& soulful idealization's
were present.*
*It never enter that room,
sedately I felt a
magnificent release,*
* yet I'm still longing for
"Love's" fulfillment*
*and for you to concur
my deepest emotions,
as you'll ****** deeply
within my velveteen walls.*
* I'll moan,
crying out for what's*
*about to come
and for that
moment we'll be one.*
*But only within
that moment
because you*
*know as well
as I do*
*that "Love's"
making such*
*a Fool of me!*
* Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®*
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Never - the love - we spoke of
Went crazy when detached from
She is the cup from which I drink the thoughts of excitement. She thrills me with her words and I go inside out with fluster. Respiration becomes mountain climbing. The easy beating heart goes on marathon. Her actions deludes me and pampers me at the same time. she was not the person I was looking for. But she has become the one that ended my pursuit. Never did she speak of love but love floods out with her every words and action. Never could I speak of love but I go baby when she is around and I go high when she speaks. She is my dope. dope..dope...!
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 4:42 AM UTC
**** depressed due doubts dance dutifuly
demented dawn deludes detriments
dinning during daunting dissidents
deemed disinterested daft dumb dreamer
don't **** demigods digesting disambiguations
digging down destroying discourses
dally daily doomed deranged
dragged damaged dusted
damp dark determined
dexedrine dagger
darts denting
dudes don't
do
D
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
I was born under great open skies,
Brought up with the smell of coal-black smoke
Hovering over the family farm.
I grew as distant sounds of whooping
Echoed like thunder across the land
And I was raised on bias, which clung
To the white men of the Black Hills like
Their guns, their religion, and their homesteads.
Those Hills are no place for me.
Look at my multi-colored dress, the
Multi-million-dollar stage, the
Multi-colored lights hanging over me.
This is my home. I thrive in this place.
Gone are the chiefs and their headdresses.
Gone are the dream-catchers and stories
Of battles between Unkthei, the
Serpant, and Wakinyan, the eagle.
Gone is Crazy Horse, always wily
Like the winter fox.
All cast off for a new life of bias.
I make the formula that nurtures
Bias in every little kid’s mind.
Every day’s the same. I spew my words,
My angry, petrol-soaked vitriol,
Which deludes their minds. They’ll be
“pigs” in the not-too-distant future.
In a way, this life disappoints me.
The trailer homes of Indians were
Run-down and forgotten about.
They lived lives of quiet desperation. No
Spotlights shined on their struggles.
The men who killed their kin were immortal.
But pow-wows in South Dakota were
***** dingy, and dark, yet they were
Attended by many a native.
The farms were barren and gray,
Stockpiles of grain long gone, given to
The plutocratic hands of Washington.
Aunt Ida clung to this world.
Aunt Ida is dead and forgotten.
I was raised on bias in the Black
Hills, and I will stay biased for the rest
Of my days. Why would I give it up?
Joseph, the great Chief, never know
Such a life.
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
Tis funny...
Huh! Life deludes us all
At times...
A grand scheme?
Or merely the workings of master pranksters.
Fiddling their thumbs in pure excitement.
As the befuddled gaze.
Knowing not the illusion.
Of what we simply call...
Change.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
Oh, pretty, pretty please tell me
You see me in your dreams,
And pretty, pretty please say
That in your imagination
I'm happier than I seem
Because I've alway been that lost girl
Searching this big world
And your mind twists and deludes who I am
I was never as bubbly as I came across
And I suppose that's why our bubble popped.
How did you make me seem so fake?
When I'm real flesh and bone
Just like you.
I could never be just what you wanted
And you couldn't stay as long as
I wanted you to.
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 5:39 AM UTC
Shut slowly. Inch, inch - quietly careful
Tirelessly weary
Ever so close yet seemingly distant
Before air could Not pass, a slight crooked hand slips through the seal
The eyes believe its a welcoming shake, so opening - inch, inch
It's gilded gleam deludes, the captured gaze. Ones Hypnotized.
Before you could open your eyes....
The charred hand covered in scars of the past shakes yours.
Do feelings come fast?
Hatred burns inside?
Do you recoil from the truth?
The past the present. Works the same. Yet if you let it, the past will hold - from the present....
Always, when your door inches towards you, Close your eyes and..... Shut!
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 6:42 PM UTC
My mind deludes the truth with feeling,
while panic saps light like a cast spell.
The scars sigil a prelude of dealing;
your laid traps left me aghast in hell,
eyes held vigil may keep me healing.
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
Fading out of existence
Time breaking down your resistance,
Slipping into the darkness
As it steals your awareness,
The golden light is disappearing
piercing power is fading from the clearing,
The mind is going, along with sight
As the soul dissipates into the night.
And will is lost
in the darkness of your mind
This force in ruthless and unkind
You might soon dies
As your memories fade into the skies
It takes a hold of your being
Deludes what you’re seeing,
violates your mind
Till there’ nothing to find,
Yet you’re shrouded in mystery
And now this is your history.
It happens every night
And it’s something you can’t fight,
It strikes with a fright,
And you’re lost in the night.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 10:32 AM UTC
What if my sight deludes my brain
And shows me things that cannot be?
What if my brain deludes my sight
With shapes and colours distorting light?
What if a chair is not a chair,
A sky not a sky?
What if my body belongs
Outside of time, in ridges, in riffs, in kaleidoscopes,
Pinging around or forever mute?
What if I die, but am not dead,
Having never been alive
That what was breathe was CGI
That what was a heartbeat merely
A mythological god slamming against a drum?
What if my words are not my words
But belong to speakers in the past
My thoughts not mine, nor yours,
But passing adverts in the electrified air?
What if existence is without shape,
Unseeable, unmeasurable,
A perishable vapour already dissipating
Unable to form and never formable?
What if none of these words were written
None of these words were read,
Nothing appeared here-
Nothing has happened, or ever does,
Except in your unquiet head?
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 6:10 PM UTC
Dear you,
Believe me, the calmness within;
It was anything like I have tasted ever before.
It was something that I adore purely the most.
Believe me, when I say;
That I dreamed about you twice tonight,
but it was rather a magical feeling
or subconscious obnoxious thoughts,
- they left out traces.
Believe me, when I say;
Some people have the brightest smiles,
but they hide in them thousands of wonder pictures,
millions of living emotions,
- their broken pieces.
But truly believe me, when I say;
To indulge in life is to savor both sad and joy,
to delve deeper in the dark deep wells,
to swim in cold stormy seas,
to fly away in black night skies.
True, time would not heal anything,
it merely creates a sensation of curing,
it merely deludes one to think it does heal something,
yet even wounds leave scars,
- that are meant forever.
It is about how you write your chapters in your life story
& how you shape the ending,
either sorrow or exuberance,
if it has one.
With regrets and foolishness,
(3:03am, 10th August 2017)
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 3:04 PM UTC
**Intelligence deludes you from that thing called heart,
That which you drank down years, it fell apart.
No one worthy to show you the way,
Half of you surface, only to see a cloudy day.
Time bent and broken though laughs provide,
Money well spent and Education supplies.
Ineffective in a cycle that spins,
In a world that screams more
How it shaped your inner core.
Iron circles crumble and shatter like stained glass,
A myriad of memories shaken, gone so fast.
So many goals and roads to take,
What a betrayal of the simplicity you forsake.
What a contrast and battle of two extremes,
Light never changes but still…It waits.**
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 3:16 PM UTC
Tranquiliser.
Silence welcomes me as I knew it would
it puts a cloak around my ears to blot out the hubbub of life outside,where the noise deludes me into thinking that it's okay to shout,riding crosstown and down on my luck,plucking thin air and,oh what the fuck,I'm depressed,stressed beyond the break point,heading to some high spot and wondering what's wrong with me,when suicide seems viable,I'm liable to end the sounds and that anger which I feel leads me to enter realms unreal but real enough to ***** this flame in me outwards to the furnaces of futility,and all I see is crimson red,what the hell is in my head?
In the silence where I'm bound and gagged,dragged kicking,I am patiently picking a place up high and the dive I take will break,break, point and match,catching the crossrail and heading out there beyond the pale,telling this tale relieves me for a time,but it is the time to dine on the afterwards,after the party is done and now that the right time has come,it is with regret I let myself go,flow off the high spot and fly,ask me why and I don't know but I go anyway,the die is cast,the deal is set and yet will hope find a way,will it batter the doors down of silence within,without which I am back in the sound?
As I hit the ground the silence relives, in flashing moments it gives me an insight and then in the other silence of the dead of night,
I realise I wasn't right at all.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
Huh? Life deludes us all at times
A grande scheme?
Or merely the workings
Of a master prankster
Fiddling thumbs in pure excitement
Watching as the befuddled gaze
Knowing not the illusions
Of what we simply call change
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
Sleep deludes my eyes
Brain throbs incessantly
I can hear the silence talk
Behind my ears, endlessly
A dog howls in the distance
The owl hoots its presence
A firefly glows in the corner
Living incandescence
In this strange milieu
The fork tongued one speaks
Emerging from tombs of yore
My poor soul it seeks
I tremble in nameless fear
I know what lies in store
For He is present right here
Just outside my door
The cloven hooves clang
In the stillness of the night
He can smell my fear
He can sense my plight
He shall not take my soul
Down to Hades so deep
For i wont go without a fight
Its not time yet to sleep
I am ready to face Belial
That lewd and insolent God
Those volcanic eyes and talons
Now they scare me naught.
Oct 20, 2017
Oct 20, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
I'm sorry I cry so much about it but I literally can't stop
Every day it never changes but it's always something new
Cancer. Heart attack. Stroke. Aneurysm
Stress is eating me alive and there's not much of me left for it to even pick their teeth with
Fear, delusion, panic, obsession
Oppression and compulsion
An ingrained response
Paging Dr. Google. Click the same links. Old information
Old fears
Old tears
It gets so boring after a while. It deludes you into think it's fresh
'That's new.' No it's not. Fears repeat themselves
Wasn't I worried about you a couple months ago?
The reactions are tired
The horse is dead
Please stop
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 9:46 AM UTC