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Pagan Paul May 2019
     I stare down at the plate of toast and beans
     wondering why this was never part of my dreams.
     Looking for the future with an illusional pretence,
     hoping good apples will fall on my side of the fence.

And as the fork dances slow
around the legumes in spirals,
the tedium of a wasting life
bears the burden and scars
of missed opportunities in paralysis
and the colour of once bright lights
          glow black,
shining a shadow into the void
covering the bruises
that were once achievements of worth,
     now tender patches
          of failure.
I drop the fork ...

     … pushing away the plate and leaving food uneaten,
     my desire for its nutrition fought and beaten,
     Looking at the apple tree with sombre regret
     maybe its fruit will fall and save me yet.

And disappointment
is worse than anger,
it begins with the stench of loss
the nasal whiff of
what if …

And what if the little apple tree
drops all its fruit down to me?
Would I recognise fortune on my side
or fear the illusions and run to hide?

© Pagan Paul (17/02/18)
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
The daily hot humid
No sweat forehead
All the news her wetness
She was way ahead
I Love Thee rain, sweat, prayers, tears me

The daily routine sauna crib
Rain-She cub selfie
He gets rain-shine all scrubbed
Looked more like a hub after
ten years please comment

The dove soap rainwater scent
washing her eyes watching his
eyes depths body lengths

And her eyes could devour you
All wet long curled up lashes
The ancient times of their
hot flashes

The rise of the Stock market
How mad she gets throws her
Rain and shine dishes

Heavy rain coming down
Was it a big crash

Or was she feeling the damp wet cloth
the wet moment Man of the Cloth
To her ((Rain Depth))
Or loving the darkness
Rain prayers  Gothic
The umbrella she was swinging
And licking the drops
Going to the side to his
French side
Like a drenching ballerina
Wet puddles wetness in her flats

How his lips were on her deep
the depth of the well seeing
black cats
Was it all his recollection
to tell
Rain is a good thing
The moment set in like a hot
humid fling
with rain tears of crying

Thinking back at their best years
How he tasted the depths of her
The rain kept pouring she was kept
inside wanting
She was the (Kept Women)
Was her time lady with the red dress
Out the red door with her
umbrella and her toxic perfume
He was intoxicated by her smells
drips and drops

No time was their polka dots
Raindrops falling on her head
Th drenching rain combined in
her illusional dream
He was inside cooking his boiled
*** of spring water

The outside was no rain of her depth
the deepness leading her to
no sense of order
The exotically cool rain dancing
Like a Tech the screen was
flooding his search he needed his
food order those
Ramen noodles oodles and
more puddles
Going over her moist legs of hurdles
The rain to high depths of the
treasure of her
map graphs
Really high rains of colorful lady
City Rain has the
highest love traffic

The butterscotch candy
The Show Grease poodle skirt
raining cats and dogs

Mr. Worth, She was born with it Ms. Loreal
Her braided ringlet hair how he raided her
She swam right in like a loving birth guided her

Like the wrath hail to Mary quite
the contrary the  higher hopes to
the monastery
To her depth of the airplane,
rained on berries

The apps or eps what episodes
to lead her Ms. Sherry
The rain became a new birth
The Czechs with their raincoat
and checkbooks
Those rain  exotic teas take a trip
What we need to accept its
never a sunny day
in Philadelphia

The Park of the Recreation
The TV show on a rain divination
The tears of a powerful lady sing
the Blues Business

No is that so rain go away
No Please stay that's our
A piece of the drips
Don't cop out now the
wetness in her short rain dress
After the heat BUSINESS

Like the rain business
Without the rain no life
of flowers trees birds
All her wet dreams of words

It raining mad Hallelujah
Tall mean and wet drenched
syrup cake of ***
The rain with Graphic effects
I phone gets flooded and then
disconnects like banging
African drum the Safari
Designer rained away Tahari
Every drop is being inspected

Rain depths high to her legs
Sopping wet and her coffee
was somehow cloudy with his
words like rainstorm
How love can be neglected if you're at
the Stockmarket

What a heavy rain pour getting all your
money wet to the love heights
Of her rain depth  you could wake up it
was a rain dream seductively as its told
She got Iced like a cake
The rain was frozen
like the Queen_ war of the dozen
The rain's a spiritual thing who cares about the biggest diamond ring. We are not the materialistic girl we love the earthly rain  to dance and the precious pearl we are down to earth with the rain having a ball
Nandini Aug 2014
Dances the universe in illusional darkness
Recreates light his third eye
Awakes shiva from his celestial slumber
Third eye of shiva : recreates light destroying darkness of illusions
Shiva : god in Hindu mythology
George Ellison Mar 2010
friends can be there at 1 minute and gone the next....
they are a figment of our imagination a tiny little speck.
its kind of hard to tell if your friends like you or not.
they will remember you when you reach the top.
they put you down but  you still don't stop
wounded by back stabbings from the past
it seems like just happen so fast.
middle school homies telling each other we gone ride or die
but now we cant trust them and it isn't the truth its all just a lie
despite all of that im just gone watch my back
but until then we just gone leave it at that............................
comment if you like
Harriet Mar 2013
Well Perhaps Mary will come to me.
Perhaps her skin will melt so close to mine that I will feel her sorrow,
And I will feel the ongoing agony that grips her heart and torments her mind.
Perhaps I will feel the coldness of the shadows that she casts under the burning light that he attempts to enlighten her with,
Perhaps she will whisper the screams of her life and fill me with her surrender.
And I will see through her aged eyes and feel her hollow damp cheeks.
Perhaps I will lay down with her and see her dreams unfold in burning skies and hear her longing voice call out to him,
Perhaps the air will become too thin and through choking sobs she will wait for the moment that never comes.
And I will feel her immortalised blue tears run down run down my face and feel her worn hair on my shoulders.

Then she will be gone.

And just leave the lingering smell of broken beauty as my heart dawns and the silence whispers across my skin.
Mike Hauser Dec 2013
Do you find yourself wandering through the desert of life
Searching for an oasis of truth
A safe place to stop and rest for a while
To gather enough strength to carry you through

Do you find hope, in this middle of nowhere
Or do you let the ache eat you every step you take?
Can you smile, when even though you remember,
the wounds you created by your own,
on the beautiful surface of your skin?
Are you capable  to hold the tears back,
from streaming down,
when all you feel is the heavy weight in you chest,
scaring your heart,
at every beat of it?

When off in the distance you see what appears to be
A mirage of your own making
You take out your scared heart before it falls apart
And head in that direction for safety

But alas, it's just an illusion
A figment of imagination in your mind
What you thought of as paradise
Was the reality of the times

My heart isn't as cold,
My soul isn't as dark,
Now that I feel belonged,
to this paradise,
I only feel infinite
A collaboration with the one and only Mina Salva!
SassyJ Mar 2016
The glass of wine spins on sins
Encircling the royal roulette
All rotating on a hamster wheel
Pinned on canvas and illusional walls

So tiny in errors and unbalanced books
Unaccounted annotated distributions
Twisting hands on colluded coils
Deeper projections from the heart

An eruption of the social notions
Extracted on the paradise of life
For no truth echoes authenticity
Eccentrically finding a lived reality

Plato symposiums and simulacrums
Pavlov trails of social conditioning
Sampled in tented objectifications
Functioning within the invisible rules

We sniffle as we expose the false actuality
Reactive explosions from robust heat
Unloaded rods dancing under the moon
In our tenderness rejecting the paradigm
For Joshua Ingram from the heart.....(Inspired by the  distortion of the 10 commandments and art)
Nitin S Nair Dec 2016
Don't let your voice rise above a whisper,
Let's leave and never come back;
We can go and live in a beautiful world,
We'll be happy forever together.

Let's go far and beyond the pressure cooker
Of expectations and apprehension,
Let's go live a life more happier and merrier
Far away from impossibility.

Let's go to a place where no one can find
A trace of who we are,
In the mist of the hills of Shimla
Or the New Delhi Bazaars.

Why do we need artificial people
When we love each other dearly,
I'd hold you closer than I ever did before
And you'd never slip away.

Let's not make a sound as we leave
This fake and illusional world,
For the noise that we hear is make-believe,
But we can never be sure.

Let's just leave with what we have
And never come back,
Let's wave goodbye to this illusional world
And never look back.
This poem can viewed from a romantic angle, and also as an interpretation of  life as an artificial existenceof being.
Rizna M Rameez Oct 2018
People expect me to be some sort of superhero. Wherever I go I can just turn around, pull off a mask and be a new person. There's no mask, this is my face. This is me. If the only 15 years of my life didn't make me what I am, then what's the definition of a person? Don't expect me to be like the typical person you see here. I've lived an atypical life, I AM an atypical person. That doesn't mean I can't be good, I can't be right, I can't be loving, I can't be amazing. I'm just not what you think I am. So don't expect me to do the same things, and have the same values and priorities in life. I'm Muslim. I'm Human. Allah is closer to me than I am to myself. I love, and Allah showers His love and the love of mankind upon me and I do not know if deserve it. I have things that are important to me and closest to my heart. Don't expect me to shed them off, just because of an illusional factor called time. This is me. I want to be me. Maybe I can change, but I love who I am. And I don't want my past self to be something distant and alien, to my future self. Don't think that your home will become mine, just because you force it upon me. I am home in Allah. I am home where I feel comfortable just being myself. Not having to change myself for people to understand me. There, I am home. I can't keep translating my personality and cutting off huge bits just for the sake of your understanding, for the rest of my life. Please, I beg of you, love me for who I am. If I don't know myself, then who does? I KNOW myself. At least, more than you do. Please don't say my comfort zone is a far fetched illusion. If it is, then my personality does not exist.

Don't expect me to be you. Love me for who I am.
Been having a few issues with getting important ppl in my life to understand my motives and my next moves. But their inability to understand me stands in the way.
I’m facing a point in my life that I have to make decisions that will make or break my future. It affects the rest of my life. So it’s essential they understand and together we make the right decisions. I’m facing a stage in my life where what I do will ripple out forever, at least for me. I need to drop the right stone in the right place with just the right force.
I’m just not the kinda person people think I am and I’ve adapted pretty well but it’s just not me and I’m incapable of taking that finally step to be just like them because there’s this huge obstacle in between : my personality.
So facing this obstacle, I just wanna say, don’t expect me to be like that. And don’t hate me cuz I’m not like that. I love me and I want to be myself.
When you say what I call comfortable is ridiculous or far fetched or inconsiderate, just know that I’ve thought this through. I know. And there are sacrifices to be made. Don’t break me by saying I’m not who I am.
D Conors Jun 2010
The sea is the land's edge also..."*
--T. S. Eliot

It's a sand-castle in morning tide
slowly constructed
for the first time; and the horizon
sea-blue, distinctly separated from sky-blue
with a razor fine-line
liquid running steadily
into time.

I saw a small boy, ankle deep
in steaming sand
building illusional dreams of
Kings and Queens and Knights
because he can
do anything he wants,
while dolphins dive and dance
in the sunrise crystal morning
with his tiny, growing hands...

And when the seagulls circle by,
above hearty, browning palm trees,
eating as they please,
the kiss of water hits the shore
invoking a magnificent mystery music
just before

realize as certain memories arise,
that beyond this circumstance
lies connectedness,
an ******, wavering consequence,
leaving me to forsake

When I wander along this temporal shore,
flying, sometimes falling
through these storms:
like the sea I am in many ways
so sometimes slowly dying
without pain,
and in a certain collectiveness, she reaches
forth her foamy hand,
blistering my cheeks in colours crimson, sweet,
erasing that child's castle
in the sand.
D. Conors
c. April 1997
This was the last poem I had officially published in 1997. I had been awarded the honor of Northeastern Pennsylvania's Poet of The Month for National Poetry Month.
I read this and several other poems before a packed crowd, finished my reading, packed up my poems and said, "I'm done."
I haven't read aloud in a public venue since. Nor have I published any of my works until now on this website.
I hope you enjoy.
Josh Pampam Nov 2020
Where are they that went asleep?
The ones we had, but ne'er keep
Right here in front of our eyes
They flared away in the sky
Yet, we pet our mind not to fret
As if we knew the world they went.

Josh Wealth Pampam ©
Micro poem
About those who died.
samasati Sep 2012
i have so much love in me and around me
it is impossible to bathe in anything else like
a ****** resentment or an unlimited reservation of sadness

even though those sicknesses are okay and are always curable,
i feel too alive and sure of myself to cough up a loogie of ill-peace

how can I not be okay - right now?
is there a way to prove myself otherwise?

always - we are
and nowhere else

if only we'd just take a step back and take a look at the illusions
of past or future we've been rolling around in

those are just stories!
and the essence of who we are is not replicated from any external judgement
because a judgement is just another illusional story
that pries into our belief that we will not make it through another day.
but you can, and i can
and you deserve love and i deserve love

and if you take a step back and really look at where you are,
you will see that
you are okay right now too.
heart rate at 23 beats per minute.
people pacing, patients fading,
and i take my sweet time, not grieving in it.

called to cut, scalpel in hand;
sliding through their skin
at my own command.

mindless and ignoring
the moans and groans
between the man’s snoring
and the chill in his bones.
and as i intervened within his dreams
there came a scream from he
and a thrill within my bloodstream.

pain is an illusion.
an illusional delusion.
i’ve heard complaints
of pain from punches
but i tell you,
these pleas for ease
are false yet i
answer to them to appease.

you must not be so quick to judge
my sanity or insanity
or lack of grievances for calamities.
i swear to you,
i am not ill,
nor do i crave to ****,
and though you’d think that
from the way i behave,
it is not com-plex,
not con-vex nor con-cave.
my sole purpose,
i believe so,
is to serve others
by easing their “pain”.
do not underestimate me,
nor the amount
of lives i’ve “saved”.

i am telling you
of a true story
from the perspective of myself
ten years time ago.
this was when i,
for once,
had a twinkle in my eye.

i run the midnight shift
and spend most of my free time
with the patient in room 46.
i lay in bed beside him
and together we dream.
with our hands intertwined,
we dream that the stars align,
and i wish for patient 46 to be fine.

as i fill patient 46’s lungs with air,
he fills mine with a kind of
sensation no one could ever replace
and though i will never be able to
accurately describe it,
i wish the feeling will never go away.

rapid response team.
i’m running,
reaching for my dream.
patient 46 is running (out of time),
reaching for the heaven’s gleam.
51 beats…28…9…flatline.

patient 46 dead on january 23 at 23:59.

pain is an illusion,
an illusional delusion.
i’ve heard complaints
of pain from punches
but i tell you,
these pleas for ease
are nothing
compared to love’s disease.
Molantwa Mmele Jul 2016
Dulcet melodies came up
From the basement, day and night
The rhythm that fractured silence apart
And rained in my life prettily like rose petals
In the falling of the spring
Her tinny fingers danced gentle on these piano keys
Serenading my soul, laid at peace with thee
She called this place the heart of her serenity
With love she kept it warm and dignified
Sometime ago she went out for draughts. And driven away by illusional views
Perhaps down on the sea promenade, something attractive
Held her hypnotized and possessed
Ever since she left, only silence sings from the basement
She left indelible marks and love notes around the walls, and
No soloist ever bothers to go down there
And stay longer, perhaps, because of her luggage all over the room
And I’m afraid of disposal, if she may come back home
Or emptiness could be too much to handle either
My heart has become, but just an isolated confined basement
Full of gloomy memories, ever since you’ve been gone
It is quiet with sadness down here without you, and
No soloist ever bothers to come and stay longer
Inspired by Na Ngulube on the Tenant
Pax Jun 2013
I buried the star so far as I assumed  it’s dead
My heart turns into shadows of dread
My mind is eating stale bread
Putrid flesh, a cold mess

Illusional thoughts perceptional disease it brought
Nothing but endless drought

A part of me has died and the other is alive
The dead and the living

I cried and I tried
the might I must master to hold-on tight
but I lost my grip and fall into a trip
deep within the hallows of my demons

*© Pax
my demons are my anxieties i am trying to overcome....
that is why i am draw to the lyrics of Florence + the machine - shake it out
it said : looking for heaven found the devil in me....
Reza Sedghi Jan 2017
Vain I was, until I saw your eyes...
From the beginning I felt like a reanimated corpse...

Empty I was, with your Charm you filled My life...
Like a Blank canvas you filled it with colors...

Felt the rapture, for I've touched your face...
Like launching a Rusty old ship after years...

Waltzing I was, with the waves of love at a mild pace...
Without knowing this feeling would ever disappear...

Reflection of your eyes was the star of My direction...
and your smile became My healing potion...

I was fully occupied by your affection...
Your Perfection was Vast, alas I was no match for Devotion...

enthralled by this love, Felt delighted...
I was ready to get Sunk by your Mythical sirens...

And Thus I wished Forever we'd be Undivided...
As I'm Calm By Your side, Through storm, through Silence...


You knew our love will not last, Yet you made no sentence...
Left me all wandering, like a Displaced ghost...

Like a Roaring Sea, You Burst all I had, left me to evanescence...
All I asked was to get back to your peaceful coast...

Weak to resist the Feelings from the Inside...
whiplashed My soul as the waves doing it to the seashore on a stormy night...

Everyone have a star, for it brightens up their Dark Nights...
Yet Mine, just an illusional illumination of a dead light...

What Turned our love into a misery? I have no Wisdom
All that Remains is a Collided Heart and a shattered soul

Elation Drops like the falling Leaves in the Autumn...
and I have accepted this blight, for I have no control...

You Drowned Me deep in to your immeasurable black sea...
Slowly Fading away, going lifeless, Going cold

I still would like to Admire and Adore thee
As I'm not empty anymore, I'm Full of perfect holes...
This one is about Falling in love and then left broken hearted
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
My past is seeking me out again
The stupidity of my past ignorance and sin

We'd stay up all night and speak of places we would roam
He moved me far away from home

He moved me away from family and friends
I didn't relize my future was growing dim

I was in love, he kept his demons well hid
If I'd just known some of the things he had did

I soon was pregnant, unable to defend
That's when the beatings begin

I would of ran but there was no where to go
So far from home with a young one in tow

My illusional happy family dissolved
A happy future from me is STILL getting robed

This drunken alcoholic fool
Was particularly cruel

Daily beatings a must
Hands around my throat in disgust

Have him arrested, out the next day
"Boy, ***** will you pay"

Years go by and three children latter
Things are much worse the punishment greater

Can't leave him now, know for a fact he will **** me
He'd bury my body deep, he'd never set me free

Then he would be raising my kids, a terrifying thought
And all of my suffering would of been for naught

One drunken and now cracked up night
He told me to go and I took flight

Raised four kinds on my own
Over 17 year and every 2 or 3 years always making his presence known

He can fill my heart with fear
I seen him today he's in my town..........his near
Am I living from a place of
blind fear or abundant love?
What messages are coming through-
from the endless Kingdom above?

Daily I endeavor to live,
the life I have imagined;
will my dreams be realized?
Will my future be fashioned?

Is my faith more than
an illusional contrivance?
What am I doing wrong,
since I’m wanting guidance?

The infinity of my soul
continues to slowly unfold;
will the value of my being,
be weighed as purified gold?

Am I afraid of failure or
the possibilities of success?
Can I overcome the fear
of not passing Life’s test?

Tapestries of my life are
based on choices I’ve made;
yet successes only occurred-
after taking time to pray.

I desire quantum moments
that give meaning to me;
what else can I really do,
so I may now… clearly see?

Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
On a Dr. Wayne Dyer program called: ‘I Can See Clearly Now’.

Learn more about me and my poetry at:

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
Simon Nov 2019
Consciousness is tailored for everyone’s efforts. The software, which includes the hardware it’s circumvented towards in order to specialize the countering of what makes it special in its tip top shape that won’t be the downfall of order itself. But the countering of how one tailors our operating systems day in and day out. Like computers and their operating systems. All are specialized with there own software that makes calculations after calculations day in and day out. Sort of a repeatable process for everyone’s pleasures to invoke upon. Circumventing the hardware that mounts an all-out assault of processes exchanging daily operations both inside and out. Guess you can say a operating system is a computers consciousness. Doesn’t matter how advanced one is to claim by performance alone. Sooner or later, the obvious is in its performance through actions alone. Performance is never equal, until you have a operating system that’s proud to be awake and functioning! Now what’s this about tailoring consciousness…? Nothing… Well, not really anyways. Were all tailored ever since birth. Natural inclinations among our living conditions pits us against rougher life styles then what our own kind is actually going through on the other side of there own spectrum. Spectrum's including a posher life style. Tailoring our consciousnesses proudly without guilt or suffering paying the wages in a more illusional priority to what truly counts for something being a one-sided treating operating system. Operating systems are just that…functioning platforms for our waking states to conjure up on a daily basis. Removing this operating system, would be like removing ourselves. Seizing to exist in our fully established biological states completely! Whatever state your consciousness is divided by, don’t tear it away because yours just seems to not function up to the claims of what lifestyle you (THINK) you should be tailored by. Whether you asked or not. Thou understandably it’s not your fault to what lifestyle you were brought up by. And the poverty that produces those brims full of guilt or suffering pays more wages to what is the true operating lengths of what the world is truly founded upon. Operating systems in computers are safe because there functioning. Tailored to be the tip top and posh lifestyle that one was engineered when sold separately. Which in tune was given to a higher base operating system that’s now channeling the wills and wants of what this engineered system is occupied to function with. More priorities in all! WOOT! Our consciousness sits back while judging harshly based on not feeling, because feeling is made more then just a waking state system. Its functionality isn’t important because it’s drawn out to be a system. Hence a somebody to tailor your own self importance’s up because your awake and functioning. Consciousness is tailored to exist because it’s there to see how the vessel that binds us all together, gives us our self importance in the first place. (Snapping of someone’s functioning width gives rise to friction counting for something jaw-dropping!) Achieving the snapping mechanism in one go. Thou many services kept trying with processes battling for perfection. Forwarding the plan to notion the regards of…what…exactly, pray tell?? They say we mirror our believe system out into the world. We make mistakes which spawn greater examples for the self importance eliciting the lesson of forgone truths straight from our focused conscious could elaborate on. Just like how apparently consciousness could reflect the universes true purpose in (WHY) the operating system acts the way it does. Hiding its true tailoring arts in such a twisting bind, it’s unaffordable to even speculate on. It’s simply beyond our pray tell minds to operate on. Yet we interact with it on a daily basis. Twisting, while binding something isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Not forgetting to include the involuntary postures shooting out the benefits to this natural, possibly biased claim. (What riches foretold such events to come…?) Obviously, nothing to what tailored these operating systems of ours. Electronic computers. Bioelectrochemical humans. Creations or creator. Tailoring their computations and biological processes to the highest degree. Everyone has a operating system that lets you consciously interact with the software that permeates the hardware holding it all together. Just like how a skull holds a brain. Which holds the nestles of mind. And mind carrying out the calculations of software bounded to the hardware that mind is also bounded by the brain. The universe is massive, yes! But a network in itself once said, (that no matter how big or massive your typical construct might seem to absolve all constraints of triumph! You need to look a little closer.) Humans dedication towards operating systems? Tailoring conscious properties?! Computers being creations of advanced operable, functioning exercises which circumvent those daily practices are too beneficiary to the thing that bounces back to a functioning mirroring mechanism playing for keeps with the lifestyle we all play ourselves in our own nestled corners. The universe is no different. But it’s not as big as you truly give it credit for. (Tailoring consciousness hears a snapping of someone’s functioning width giving rise to the friction counting for something without jaw-dropping results!) Maybe tomorrow when your operating system is all deemed redeemable by no good lucky efforts. You might start to benefit yourself among close surroundings that play you to look too far ahead of what is already tailoring you up to play the part directly towards.
Tailoring one's own awareness with the operating system that bodes well with everyday riches, produces harm to the rightful of places.
Clovina Feb 2014
Let Me be...*
Memories I do not to see.
Locked away, it holds no Key.
Have them Fade from History.

Things, I often see.
Creations of Forbidden Keys.
Awakening Ancient Memories.
Reliving Illusional History...
Nightmares Leave me be...
Dreams you are now History!
Locks which (now) hold no Keys!
Forsaken Memories, Leave!
Cmi Jan 2019
Illusional layers
Of Religions
Made by
I broke
For  love

Amoy Sep 2019
The wheels of time spins in my direction knocking me off my feet
telling me I need to yield for it is my master. Time the illusional master captures me, casting shadows on my mind, body and heart.
imprisoning my thoughts and emotions with promises to sooth my pain
Does Time heal all wounds?
Life's most precious gift:
To live, we have to just breathe
But there're thoughts beyond thoughts,
Trapped in a realm, yearning to be freed:
If we hold this breathe seize,
We shall seize to live, but leave
But sometimes, to actually live, we have to leave

There's a thin line between sanity and insanity
Erased by our unsay
There's a thin line between Illusion and reality
Erased by our don'ts

This place of gracious enticement
Where we watch us being killed
A place filled with men of slightest thoughts
Amused by this illusional amusement
A place where nothing is real
Full of dos and don'ts, yet no one is free

Though we all came with says and dos
We've not by ourselves chosen to be free
We've trapped all those for the sake of our creed

Why then not hold this breathe seize to actually live
For stance where our thoughts could not reach
For life in a place we've never seen
A place where we're actually free
Why don't we leave to actually live?

Nienke Jan 2015
a kind of addiction, a slow kind of dying
but a suicide wrapped in love and hope
powerful enough to blind your eyes
is certain not easy to ****

so hands high for the not coming reward
somewhere knowing it all, deep
we drew an unreachable line again
the inner voice simply won't let us see

ourselves, when it was all we really needed

on a honest night the darkness became oh so clear
we, decided to beat our illusional selves
now only stare at the broken mirror on the floor

realize the almighty changed into an insect
and the night into the day
this morning a new sunrise is born
Donivon Brummett May 2013
What if the world was full of you
Would you have conversations with yourself
Do you think it would be easier
Would you think it would get boring
ask yourself

The reason everyone is different
So we can come together as one
So we can conversate

We get hurt to learn from our mistakes
We find love within the heart
Not the mind
You mind can be illusional sometimes

Once you over come
Mind will protect your heart
You can do anything you set your mind to
Never quit because
You will get the same outcome as last time you quit

No this isn't for all
My words are small
But my heart is large
My mind is gaining wisdom with every day that passes
I want to live with the nature.
Oh... Only Nature.
I want to leave far away, leave this place for good! Move to another area where I can find my lost soul.
I want to discover my destiny which I can't behold.
I want to be alone so no one can disturb my priorities.
So I can feel relax and I can breathe in the Noisy silence.
Raise my hand to none and get the rest I want.
I want to feel no feeling but -sadppy-.
I want to find no love and feel no sympathy .
To look at the darking sky and bethink in the beautiful moon,
Watch the powerful light of the magical stars.
Breathe the pure Oxygen, the plants on earth offer me.
Touch the golden sand with my bared feet.
Look at the natural beauty of this hurt planet and pray to no Lord.
Because I'm the only Godess
Remember no memories but the story of The love I dreamed to fall in,
The illusional devotion my soft, innocent imagination bleeds in paper ever night.
Wait for no one!
Dream of nothing.
Only Imagine to a beautiful end.
Seema Sep 2017
Illusional, delusional
My mind is confused
Rejection, refusal
My veins are infused
Cursed, accused
My heart is bleeding
Used, abused
My soul is pleading
The uncertainty of thirst
Of a beast slowly slithering
Dressed in a robe like a priest
Torn wrecking and withering
Face of a known God
Heart of a powerful demon
It's life secured in a black cord
Stringed chilies and sour lemon
Preying on the innocent souls
It's lust forever brewing
Feeding on the mine coals
Always aims for higher viewing
Must one be a godly knight
Born to end this, once and for all
For the serpent searches in the night
To whoever answers its call...

Simon Sep 2020
A girl who is lonesome on a regular basis, isn't based upon their own choice... But by their own desire to hold an identity bear without regulating (properly) the reasons as to why or how too essentially fix them?? Someone would say they aren't both comfortable and doesn't want to live this type of life... Except, they do, and they are very good at it. Do you not seriously think they aren't truly comfortable with it...?! Because by how I've gotten to know them, they seem entirely thrilled by this very aspect upon the features that drown them in sorrowful lust or delusional ecstasy for the illusional better!
Don't make me laugh.... You seriously think she "would" be comfortable with ANY of this...? WELLL.... DO YOU???!!! NO...! She simply... DOESN'T! And I wouldn't, either. Because I know what it's like to live in something that has tormented me right down to my very component cells. (Not truly knowing how to regulate the emotions that run those very component cells...DRY!) Something that ricochets the exposure over an entire even playing field that's become too GREATLY ODD! For something that doesn't make sense, doesn't also have too be the permanent source of lifestyle one has become standard upon (the now very normalized lifecycle of this very way of life itself).
So, what happens when someone who is lonesome and who's seemingly lost...while also supposedly meant too be good at it, simultaneously...? Well...isn't it obvious by now...?
"A lonesome girl who's good at being alone".....
A lonesome "star" of their own "nightmarish" melodramatic soap opera, has NO OTHER CHOICE...then too see it through... Till the very end!
But this time... Their not alone....
you know those feelings, the ones you can not explain? mine are illusional, they manipulate my brain. there are voices inside of my head that are not me, they are leading me under where I can never be set free. I am terrified of who I am becoming, but you see I am so in love with how you are to me. I am too deeply lost inside of my head, and tonight is another night I will lose it in this bed. I do not have the strength to speak, I guess you can say I have became a total freak. It is difficult to pay attention to the reality of my life, I would rather feel the kind of pain that occurs from a knife. my personality has became shaken, and for thinking I may be enough I know I am probably mistaken. I am afraid that I am falling, there is something wrong inside of me calling. I am stuck inside of a mindset that cannot be understood, and I am fully aware that it is because of all these substances I have took.
DC raw love Jan 2015
As I gaze into wonder land
Trying to collect my thoughts
I always ponder why am I lost

I know were I've been
But don't know where I'm going
In this life of after tomorrow

Conclusional or conclusive
Delusional or illusional

Is this part of your life
Katinka Oct 2018
It beginns
Hands are starting to shake
palms are sweaty
shivering, freezing, sweating
It´s cold, then hot

Focus on your breath
in and out
in and out

don´t move
don´t scream
don´t ask for help
don´t call your mother, or sister
don´t call anybody
just sit

illusional fear
mortal agony


stand up
grab the razor blades
in and out
in and out

don´t call for help
they wouldn´t understand
You are the only one who can help yourself

in and out


20 minutes pass.

the body can only panic for 20 minutes.
You survived

I live with a mental disorder which is anxiety, people often assume it just means I am anxious but it is way more then that, here I tried portaying a panic attack I had
Joshua Adam Jul 2015
You can change the world if you only cared, just listen for the truth to call
remember your self-deception in youth, and the excuses that caused you to fall
be brave enough to stand up to the challenge, the world awaits its saving grace
before you is the chance to become its hero, don’t end up as just another disgrace

Do not squander away opportunities, reacting on impulse is not the way to go
the world exists, contribute to it as would a partner, never just go with the flow
our days in this world have been calculated, a set schedule in which to perform
don’t err thinking, because you’re alone, no longer are you obligated to conform

Everything in life is an absolute test, and nobody will ever be excused
compelled, you will accept life’s challenges, or forever remain confused
winning is not the real goal, but only a mirage, one of life’s real diversions
unwilling to realize the truth, is another of your mind's illusional excursions

Did you hear the news of what's going on in the world, death and suffering cry out
how can we call ourselves human, remaining silent with not so much as a shout
the masses rebel by killing and pillaging, what their dictators have always sought
unable to discern, now perpetuating this same hatred, an evil they’ve been taught

The answer to tranquility in life, can only be found in those willing to sacrifice
heart and soul willing to do that which is good, with no consideration of price
even if it means giving up on your own desires, this is the way toward the light
you commit yourself and sacrifice, because your heart and soul know it is right

An endless light is where you now come, arriving to a place perfect in every way
a heavenly sphere surrounded by spiritual beings, you begin to tremble and pray
comforted by what you are told, having sanctified the Almighty in what you chose
having banished part of the evil in this world, and with it destroying all of its woes

You’ve changed the world, raising it from debt to merit, in the eyes of the One above
causing divine good, as invisible rays of light, to gravitate to where exists this love
how difficult to fathom, but self-sacrifice of just one soul is all that was ever needed
this self-sacrifice caused by your caring soul, is with what mercy has now pleaded

We can change the world and make a difference, by no longer continuing to fabricate
despite our human flaws we can change, and this evil from within we must eradicate
an existential moment of choice lies ahead, our actions having an everlasting effect
during life is the time to plan, making our eternal happiness nothing less than perfect
This is a poem abAlmighty, Cry, Death, Evil, Forever, G-D, Goal, Good, Grace, Gravitate, Hate, Human, Illusional, Judaism, Killing, Life, Light, Love, Mercy, Mirage, News, Poem, Poetry, Sacrifice, Silent, Soul, Spiritual, Test, Truth, Worldout changing the world and where it starts

— The End —