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Umi Mar 2018
Antimatter mirroring our existance on the pathway of a reverse world
Imagine it, time stands still, halts without a will to  continue its flow if it were to possess one to begin with, and everything is but fragile,
Illusionary moon, shine on in this distorted realm in which not even gravity is reliable or even trustworthy at this point, up is down here,
An imperishable night caught under a spell of eternity, uninterrupted
Everlasting, permanently shining, the fake moons appearance is clear,
Unremitting, sweetly told as a if it was a lie, the rumours of this world spread more likely like a disease through the ancient, young earth,
A line parallel drawn to ours, a dimension coexisting without sense,
It appears to be fragile, like a newborn child, the smallest disturbance would mostlikely ruin it's balance, bring tremor upon it wretchedly,
But where that life sparkles as then fades, two dimensions surely would overlap, of course, maybe it will be the world you inhabit, no?
In the realm of the dead, a loitering, lingering darkness thins the borders of reality and illusion, causing them to exist as one, now with the same heart and soul, a fantasy heaven which became reality,
After all, that place is only temporary,one surely could even call it a;
Short living eternity,

~ Umi
Umi Apr 2018
To death in love!
The eye of ones heart closes for their beloved, their most precious treasure of them all clouded by emotions stored for them deep within
Unanswered love leads to a stinging mind of the subscocious, caught and rose by a burning ember of feelings, turning into an inferno,
Blinded by it, they will not acknowledge the falsities of their partner, nor their mistakes or even their treaciousness, as for them he is perfect, conciously imaged as the ideal and the best they ever had,
But no! God forbids, they learn about the art of blinding love while they sink to the bottom of a sea of passion and affection, in a last remote of a courtain call to simple yet manifest carelessness,
Small lies lead to grand falsities overlooked by a noncaring closed eye
Rekindled in a dream they rather follow their instincs than the truth,
Illusions cast by embers of love deep within the unconcious, like a courtain to be blocked from all light, holding on to dear of what is loved and cherished, praised and adored, an emotion leading stray,
The philosophy of a hated person, would be to never close the open eye of ones heart, so you fall not too hard when you begin to love,
But when all falls apart, realisation is like the thorns of countless roses
It is the heart sign of selfless love.

~ Umi
Poetic T Aug 2016
My ink isn't dry,
it just heeds the needing of release,  
   and in this moment it is reserved
                  behind a dam of wowful thinking.

Will I unleash the gates, or stem the tide of
Letting it linger in pools of what I feel deeper
                                       than what others think.

A puddle is an illusion,
for it can linger in minimal space,
                 but beneath it
is a lagoon of sadness
                   that swallowed all I now think.
The flat earth is flatter
   Than the round earth's a sphere,
And what's all the matter
   Is very unclear.

The world is a caper
   That's made of illusions.
I use white lined paper
   To draw my conclusions.
Susanna Apr 2018
I was too young and too smart
To operate under the illusion that I was capable of love.
But his fingers were so long and slender.
The way they wrapped around the back of my hand.
His palm was soft and smooth.
So cool,
And not at all sweaty
Compared to the rest of the gym.
I never felt butterflies in my stomach.
I never wanted to let go.
Kleigh Dec 2018
In the world of reality
You are like a royalty
In a fairytale story
On our story, I'm a frog whose ****
And you're a perfect prince charming
My life unexpected greatest blessing
Despite of what I am you still kiss me

Look on the mirror on the wall
You'll see a man admire by all
Who is lovely and white as snow
I never expect you'll love me more than I know

If fairy god mother really exist
I will thank her atleast
'Cos I have you more than an evening
And you find me even the glass shoe still missing
We live happily never after, as I wake up daydreaming
You're fantasy in my reality
youphoria Sep 2018
a concept
an illusion
a scam
a false reality
a conspiracy

these years keep flying by
a minute is gone in the blink of an eye
Ciel Nov 2018
Hold me
Like you used to.

Kiss me
Like you still love me.

Lie to me
Like you never did before.

I would rather bathe in an illusion
Than drown in misery
As I realize what I have lost.
Äŧül Nov 2012
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 Didn'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

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading my novel's eBook after having read this poem then do visit for buying my story titled "7 Seconds" and supporting my medical expenses.
nosipho khanyile Jul 2018
if life is a perception
let my eyes be
the illusion
that pitter patters
on your skin
all over your body
into your mind
then soul
opening the door
to your reality
Pyrrha Oct 2018
Every time she closes her eyes she conjures him up in her mind
They open only to become clouded by the tears he causes to erupt
From behind those slender doors she thought had long since shut
As he turns the lock and all her walls come tumbling once again
She’s exposed to the vicious beast that love has taken the form of

What can she do to pry her mind away from he whom she longs for?
Where can she store her thoughts so they won’t taunt her relentlessly?
How can she deny what is right before her and singing in her heart?
Out of fear she shuts her eyes to make him disappear forgetting
He is not simply some material being to wish away, he is in everything

He is the beating in her head and the throbbing in her heart
He is in every breath she holds, every sigh she releases
He is in every sunset, smile, and feeling of warmth
He’s torture upon her everyday life as he stabs her day and night
As if he has no choice but to jab her with every what if and if only

It is a violent sort of passion, one that can only be seen briefly
Through the eyes of a passerby it tricks them like a glimmer of innocence
Yet behind that innocence is a fiery sin coated in lust and longing
How much of that sin can she hold before it tears a hole into her soul
One that can no longer be repaired by the illusion of  redamancy?
(Read the analysis of the poem in notes)

As you caress my naked and barren soul
I look into the darkness and hear your wholesome heart beating against your chest, your golden voice is quite blessed. how much time must I wait to enjoy the rest of your lovely quartet, the lovely music of your body’s melody, the calming voice of a siren singing sweet praises that save my soul and make me feel whole. How delightfully I await the clear sight of you. I imagine a holy fallen angel with beautiful black wings and crescent red eyes with undying, unyielding smiles. I imagine what I would give to join this being, this holy soul, this immortal soul. What beautiful tunes...
I realize now that I’m dreaming.
Reality isn’t this beautiful.
I await the day when I find someone as beautiful, as alive as the dead being in my dreams.

Now I ask...
“Is anyone as honest as a demon?”
“Is anyone as beautiful and cruel as immortality?”
“Is anyone as kind hearted as an angel?”
“Is anyone as pure as the broken?”
“Will I find peace soon...?”
In this poem we speak about a being that is beautiful from afar and hides in the dark from shame and fear of being judged.
She hides but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t speak. She one day finds a man who was wounded from battle and hides with him in the dark. slowly the man is enchanted by her voice as she comforts him in the darkness. He sees an image of what he believes is the closest being to her. She sings for him. He realized that he was the one who brought her into existence. this was his dream. He made a friend at the end. But he knew this wasn’t reality and he passes on after asking five questions. He rejoins a reincarnation cycle yet again... what happens after is up to your imagination.

The man dreamed of a creature like this because he himself was hiding from his reality’s because of his terrible war crimes and deep shame, because of it he was looking for hope someone who felt as ashamed even if it wasn’t in the same way.

We speak of the being created from imagination, then we transition into reality. Dreams and illusions are what bring the world joy. The dreams and illusions also help us face reality. It helps avoid pain of the world and process it slower...

The meaning of quartet In this refers to the women’s/ demons/ illusions soul, heart,voice and body.

The reason why I did not put the “personality” instead of “body.” Topic is because everyone isn’t satisfied with spiritual and person connection. They all have to jump into bed, so I figured modern day people might appreciate this more.
Armand-DeamoJC May 2018
Love is this ****** up illusion fed to me as I grow up and I believe in it and thus I am broken down whilst I achieve the point of being vacant within. It's like Santa Claus or the Easter bunny. It's a lie for eventually I'll just die
Within until I cannot even cry
And I'm stuck in a ****** up loop of pain and numbness and an empty void asking why.
I climb into my bed
I'm screaming death inside my head
I picture taking the safety off the 9mil shove the barrel against my head and let the bullet pierce my sculpt.
In that instant before I die, I think "Sht I need help, I don't know the fck I am doing here, but I have to have a bigger purpose."
Tried to filter. Was overcome with emotion when I wrote it
Some seem as alive, 
But seem as died, 
Some seem as died, 
But seem have lives, 
It can not realise, 
By an ordinary eyes.
Vanessa Viniegra Aug 2018
Not speaking to you is killing me!
but I didn’t choose this, you did,
which hurts even more...
You chose to walk away,
you chose to leave me here deserted.
It’s taking all of my energy
to not text you,
to not call you.  
To not scream at you.
And ask why?

Why wasn’t I enough?
Why didn’t your soul want me as mine wants yours?
Why did you lie to me and make me have no trust in you?
Why did you make me fall if you weren’t willing to catch me?

My soul aches and there’s nothing that will fix it, I will forever have a hole yearning for the future I envisioned.  

I will forever miss you.

So done with the illusion of love.
Kyle Kulseth Jun 2018
I thought I heard
               Canadian slang
from the opposite bed-side
Like it's 2009, rub some lines off my face.
Inner space bleeding outward,
deep red, a nosebleed,
angled points on white of The Maple Jack.
               A Nip at the Sal's on Esplanade-Riel.

Grab your runners and toque,
               it's warm, but not forever
and these legs are sore. Polar bears
on the sweater you wore in the Fall--
Churchill, Manitoba, the streets are full of teeth and claws.
Awoke and wanted warmth lacking.
I thought I heard Canadian slang.

I thought I heard "it'll be okay"
from the voices of feathers fletching arrows falling.
     they whisper and screams sink deep behind
A sentence unfinished,
                sinking in flesh
                              in time
                              in snow and ice
                              in water in Summer
                              in memory.

I thought I heard
               plans being made
and shy laughter.
I heard it 5 times. Didn't I?
Days fade, ears dull*
Walking on streets, in the cold
towards her home
I thought I heard laughter--
                                   heard something
                        like laughter--
I thought I heard rain, as the Lodgepoles drank water.

I thought I heard laughter.

I thought I heard wax melt.
I thought I smelled fairness.
I thought you wanting more time
to bleed and blur tenses.
I thought I heard rivers rushing and roaring
                                                 their battle cries--
--asserting their presence.
I thought I heard cars pass and sounds of the daytime
                    and late March walk along bridges.

I could swear I heard something
     Like Canadian slang,
Sarra Jun 21
You say
I'm a live river
Quenching your needs
showing you the road
Melted bronze
mending your cracks
filling your shallows
I'm a burning flame
guiding you home
reviving your soul

I say
I'm a dead ocean
poisoned with your delusions
murdered by your conceptions
Shattered Jade
crushed under your repression
grinded by your avidity
I'm a dying star
drained by your vanities
****** into your darkness

I say
Set us free.
Sean Fitzpatrick Dec 2018
The hummingbird ate nectar
As I watched from across the way
But, closer scrutiny revealed
There actually fluttered a moth.

Mark- the funny feeling of
Meaningless eons of time
Dressing up a fluffy insect
And confusing a wandering mind.
Helena B Mar 7
I built us a house in my mind
Imagine us sitting by the fire and looking into each others eyes
Like a cheesy romantic scene from a 50s movie
I swoon over you and let you consume my whole world
But life is not a romantic comedy
And the fairytale ending I created for us shattered
When you told me you didn't love me like that

I'm on my knees
Trying to pick up the pieces and I cut my hands but I still try and put us back together

A screen hums
And I turn to see it playing back all the times you made me smile
And of us laying down on a dock, listening to a song that reminded me of you, and staring at the stars deciding which one we would call ours
And of me listening to your heart beating as you slept and feeling like I could never love anyone like I loved you again.

The hardest part of getting over you is the remembering
I want to remember the bad things
Like the first time you made me cry
I want to remember why I left you in the first place
And why didn't you try to fight for us

And I sat there and squeezed my head with my hands and screamed
As you turn to you leave
I catch a glimpse of your face
It was as if a switch turned off in your head, it was soulless
I feel a tug at my neck as you walk away with a rope in your hand
Oblivious to where that rope ends.
Freedom is an ambiguous 
Boundaries laws and forces
Real enemies of freedom 
No one can claim it
No one can have it
Freedom became a mystery 
Due to some hurdles 
Where freedom establish? 
No one can claim it
No one can have it
Now freedom in the world
Just as like as illusion
Modern slavery called freedom
No one can claim it
No one can have it.
Farzaneh Qaf Jul 2018
And I sit there
All ear, head to feet
Listening to his footsteps
As if a Santa Clause waiting for his deer
Painting his majesty
Through defenceless eyes' pastels
Asking for aid,
O' holy hands
There, hassles
I see a purple heart
Hiding blue dropes of hopes
as if a mask was to keep my face look like mokes
Over the balcony
Amongst the trees
Saw a friendly shadow
Of my ever lasting companion, on knees
O' Thy honor sir black hat gray shadow!
Real illusion, of whom art thee?
Chasing me through the looking glass balcony
Never mind, promise, not to miss a symphony...
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