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CK Baker Aug 2017
the banners are blowing steady
(fully extended in the hot august wind)
contemporary in style
tightly trimmed
and all gloriously dressed
in the latest colors and hues
it’s a fleeting distraction though
as the caskets
and children
and grieving widows
are rolled steadily across
the burning tarmac

it’s the beginning
of that inevitable
two part proceeding
a skotoma for the ages
delusionary in nature
rich in grays
and eerily reminiscent
of that foreign reign
clipped in silence
with dark roots of fear
set deep in the bowels
of a chapter
of unimaginable sin

indifference as pronounced
as the accompanying salutes
haphazard sentiments that are
cloaked in the horror
of endless
aborted days
forgotten buggies
and bunkers
and rat packs
how could the switch
be set so wrong?


it’s truly an illusion
(this way of the world)
simple indulgence can grow
so beastly and consuming
try telling the tale to the
tibetan monks
or broad peak sherpas
(those boys know how to get it done!)
how to bask in
the ice cold waters
how to savor
the lava hot falls
couldn’t the others
have figured this one out?


the flags have settled
at half mass
and are tinted
in a charred yellow brown
the lifeless dreams
and inspirations now
in the rear view
leif running solo
(exempt of his trusted gunners)
ready for the numbered lines
his eyes open
to the ever changing
enemy at hand
Yenson Oct 2018
What if they had a War and nobody came !
my sentiment all along

Actions so transparent and telegraphed a mile long
absurd anchoring, even more absurd triggering
so absurd as to be meaningless
the hotchpotch logic of simpletons on acid
The banal manifestations of the anodyne retards with advanced hysteria

Think unruly kids on Colombian marching powder
think advanced psychosis with total stage ten delusions
Watch mass hysteria contagion
Logic was never there, rationality bolted beating Usain Bolt
Inveterate liars and fantasists now control maddened throngs

Oh dear! they decided I am madly in love with acquaintance
neither I or poor acquaintance know this
But let not the truth get in the way of a soap opera by the insanes
After All meaningless triggers and Delusionary prompts
keep the sheeples busy in People's Power utopia

They are all having a war, nobody has told me about it
I don't understand their language yet they are very eloquent
Deep in their imagined Neuro-linguistic Programming or mental pygmies playing Pavlov Dog theory of the semi-illiterates  

I just realized why cancer is prevalent amongst them
They carry so much poison and emotional ******* in their beings
It pollutes and eat away at them internally, they get cancer!

Never have been interested in little minds and liars and thieves
Have little time for dumb people, the toxics and the sheeples
What makes cretins think I take anything of theirs to mind
what can I learn or gain from contemptibles
I don't feel inferior so why would I want to learn
how to slander and defame others to bring them down
'Slander is the GREAT LEVELLER voiced one of them
poor inadequate soul, poor pathetic degenerate

I look twenty years younger than my years, no wrinkles
Just slightly greying, mind as sharp as razor
Because I don't carry acidic *******, hate or foul nonsense
in my head,
Because my mind is full of worthy knowledge
because I am not an ignoramus with attitude
because I am not a shameless coward or an empty headed nonentity
Because I am not amongst the madding crowd
I am not an insignificant pointless HATER with cancer in waiting!

I am NOT a SHAMELESS RACIST white THIEF discrediting the
Victim I STOLE from
OR
an OBNOXIOUS gang of SOCIALIST crazed subhumans cancerized
by jealousy and envy
Tapan jena Dec 2013
All of a sudden, people started babbling about a revolution,
Eventually, they were feeling proud in calling India home

A country free of poverty, of no more corruption scandals
Change finally arrived as people are geared up for the final battle

No more inequality, end of youth’s blameless apathy

Thou shalt not allow these crooked politicians to spread their wings
It was at par with the successful renaissance of Arab spring

But I lied to you all, as it was just a dream
Which got ruined as I woke up with a delusionary scream?
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2014
by Derek Walcott (1930-2017 ) / Nat Lipstadt (1950- )

The time will come
Cruel messenger, bastardized time, come back! unwelcome visitor
when, with elation
bringing only dreaded D-words,  despair, disgust...deflation
you will greet yourself arriving
departing or returning, matters not...there is no greeting
at your own door, in your own mirror
visible in either cracked devices, where lies and truths indifferent
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
welcome smile, wry smile, each an artifice alien smile,

and say, sit here. Eat.
speechless, floored, consuming flesh. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Love the étranger, estranged parts, how
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
Give whine. Give mold. The transplant rejected
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you,
by the stranger, now an it, who cannot recall himself,

all your life, whom you ignored,
all your life, ignored your choices's ever-mounting losses,
for another, who knows you by heart.
the split, the other knows not how to grant forgiveness.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
Take down the historical despair poems, for fresh decomposition,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
notes that never age, born desperate yellowed,
peel your own image from the mirror.
peel the skin, undress the delusionary, expose the interior accurate.
Sit. Feast on your life.

**Sit. Life has feasted on you
Love After Love
by Derek Walcott (1930- )

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
David Bojay Jan 2022
a great crusade in search of truth
seeking to understand myself
whatever's left i guess
the reason behind my existence
imagine reaching a goal in which we thought was what we sought
but after a certain time it proves to be illusive and delusionary
**** me
we've added more to our difficulties than we have to our solutions
but once something is solved, new problems arise
original revelations
a life uncluttered opens the doors to the inner self
vast ambitions
sounds of birth/sounds of death
(if i ever want to understand the invisible)
i must be able to find it in the visible
theology is just a mere abstraction of natural phenomenons
religion is testing the possibility of community through our relationships
philosophies based upon nature... the changing seasons
great consequences, advanced causes
the highest level is reality
the certainty of your own demise
the complicated network of truths
Clair Meyrick Nov 2016
Put your hands inside my face
Let your fingers trace
The tears the mistakes
******* smile
Let it melt into yours
The lines that creep across your cheek
That's where it starts
That's the heart of it
Feel a part of this
The flicker of recognition in your eyes
The ignition
Simplicity comes as an epiphany
Thoughts questions dissipate
As separately we come to the conclusion that the inclusion
Isn't a far fetched illusion
Or a delusionary tactic aimed to hijack the effects that affect the final outcome
Yenson Mar 2019
She sat in a corner
and yes, she was good looking
and anything time I looked up
day in day out, she was looking right at me

I had no design or illusion
unlike them, I know real from delusion
moreover ignorant bullies do not interest me
and she had been a thoughtless human sheep

Then they sat her in front of me
by now I was bored silly with their stupidity
I never have the passion for their silliness
They talk of Brent Cross, I thought what nonsense

In watford it was another one
petite dark hair and wow, with looks of wow
she came and talked about books
I never had any desire or design, I just wanted survival

Again they banged up the latest
Once again a petite wow, exotic with dark tresses
we talked and I knew, this wasn't real
so I curbed all desires but played along

But that was a mistake
they wanted a love hook to hook me down
toy with my mind and dangle the bait
I had read the score and refused the bait

But nothing I do will make them see their folly
he's in love, go in for the ****, reel him in
so they have created a delusional interest
which they obsessively saivate over

Scripted words of non event
poems and prose of unrequited love
drama after delusionary drama
imagined acts and projections of nothing

Come watch soap by obsessive idiots
come see time wasting and acts meaningless
come see the fools opera by fool for fools
come see how madness turns into a contagious virus
come see Urban myth gives lives to urban worship
Come see our Urban Messiah  laughing till his sides aches
To each rebirth I command myself to undertake,
the closer I become to being a Higher Power, further from being a Muse,
those unable to do the same, it’s alright
to
name
&
shame.
The weak is here to justify the strong,
for most will read & dismiss it as arrogant ego, rather than a self-validating poet,
living in freedom.
Let us party hard, let us party all night, the love of sacrifice is
at the base
of the shrine, profit thrives on stupidity, shown most highlighted in trends
& forefront of subcultures, delusionary revolutions,
the world changes according to the change of the individual,
too bad ignorance isn’t painful,
for
I crave original thinking,
it is too bad I have wasted so much time,
on those who cannot even pull themselves to average,
you’re none to service.
Blessed are those who can destroy false hopes, illusions, trends, validation from others, dependance, angst & insecurity.
Freedom lays in thy hands.
(Heartache, don’t let it bring my heart down,
Jezebel bow your head in shame,
I am the light of illumination,
Mystical enhance my essence is, you phony,
you fake, I’m free, while your wrapped in children’s
attention. The sun rises in the east, at the Beast’s
discretion, than sets in the west, Babylon won’t
test. I’m free again, ruff & ready, you don’t know
what you're living for. Reaching replaceable average
is your best hope. Everything at your feet, still you’re
bitter, bored & sober, so you got nothing to do.
Forgetting suicide is painless)
https://www.amazon.com.au/Killing-Philosophy-Reflection-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07F9QVCW4/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1539149191&sr=8-3&keywords=darcy+prince
misha Jul 2020
sleeping
on the bank of a foreign river
under a blanket of snow
you approach me
singing
a folk song
that I taught to myself
for comfort.
you reach out
with your scarred hand
to pull off my cloak
and there are human eyes behind it.
you tell me
I am no longer a monster.
you tell me
everything will work out.
i love you so much

— The End —