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Fenna Capelle Oct 2019
An illusion had sprung out of a well
And from the very same we all quench our thirst
In years it has already made many dwell
And I, in chasing this illusion, will not have been the first

It was blinding in all the light I didn't see
Until I learned how misfortune had treated me right
That illusion had been cloaked by invisibility
And vanished when I returned to sight
M Harris Jun 2017
Fractal Fountains Of Her Shattered Grace,
Radiating Sanguine Light Scattered Across Hyperspace,
            
Cinematic Stories Of Her Synthetic Heart,
A Pianistic Fairy Sonicating Into An Illusionistic Art,

Through Liquefied Eternity & Decoded Divinity,
She Glides With Her Electrified Wings Illuminating Into An Elegy,

Feral Essence & Mellifluous Fluorescence,
Resonating Luminescence Of Her Imperious Quintessence,
    
Fragile Fragments Of Her Experimental Masquerade,
Sterile Rudiments Isolated Forming Into Crystal Palisades,

Metallic Frequencies & Cherished Reflections,
****** Transiencies Starlit In Her Smooched Seductions,
  
With A Touch Of Insanity & Afflux Of Ecstasy,
Her Carnal Femininity Bleeds Of Promiscuity,
    
- 05:09AM
jacky Jul 2014
I am one, a particulate suspended
in an infinite collection of
breathing stardust
alone standing on
earthly surfaces.

And you are the life I began
to understand in the poetry of
your words that I long to
**** in and inhale for the rest
of this illusionistic superficial reality.
I just fell in love with Jason Silva. He inspires me that life can be deduced into certain things that words can only express and beyond those words are worlds hidden inside our own understanding. And by that I believe in him. And I know that I want to know him better.

Check him out on YouTube in "Shots of Awe" and be bewildered with his words.
Mahdiya Patel Jul 2015
Sometimes poverty unites not nations
but merely two people//
Intoxicants when overused break families as waves break on the shore//
Their drug now becomes their love//
And you are equivalent to nothing in their perceived reality//
It either makes the users surrounding guests mature profound strong souls
As strong as the Pedi army stood against the British and Boer to protect their land//
Or it causes them to transfer to their own twisted but illusionistic universe where all they see is darkness and despondency//

And then one day//
The money begins to run out
and so do the people//
But rarely, oh so rarely some humans make the decision to stay and continue the journey//
Where the road may potentially split into two//
recovery or relapse//

Sometimes poverty unites not nations
but merely two people//

The money has begun to exhale into the earths atmosphere
just as a stoner exhales his poisonous vapour into our airspace//
Some stay behind to help the corrupt mortal//

No money equals no substances//
No ******* or cat or cannabis or crack or codeine//
No drugs//

Then//

Two beings begin to ignite each other's fires
they learn the things they didn't know for the what felt like a million and seventy years//
They begin to discover how the one mispronounces words
and how certain songs cause ones soul to sway as the bass drops
or how ones hair whirls as the wind rushes through it
or how he can see the depths of the her soul through the eyes
and when she stares at the moon
her beauty is illuminated by the magical glow//

And then one day//
The money starts returning//
Creepily and discretely
the evil money
the tragedious money//
Like an evil monster emerging from hell
Where its dark and *****//

The money blows out the fire they have ignited
and slowly lures the user back//
The bond is now broken//

Sometimes poverty unites not nations
but merely two people//
* my proudest piece
The Dedpoet Jan 2016
Once, when forever was merchantmen
And time sold in bottles,
Once, when the nocturnal Almighty
Opened the skies to eyes of stars,
I had wings that existed wholely
Like two sides of an ethereality
With the miracle of an illusionistic existence.
       Wings which sang unto open blue
Skies with all the light of a star,
Wings flashing like a storm lightning
And the caress of the moist rain at my
Feathers, the calm of the night.
     I was an angel right?
Once with glory and rhythm
And all the harmony of ineffably
Clear minded hope, did you not pray
Upon the dazzlingly Divine,
Like mercy in flight over the
Sprawling desolation?

Yes, yes I have taken the fall,
The ravenously singular fall
For the lust of a woman and twisting
The Heavens, but I have awaoken suns,
Flown with meteors and shedding
The brilliance of light in the dark,
Even the fullness of the Cosmos
I have known since before when
I danced with constellations and evoked
The deeper lyrical prayers
Of madmen!

One day,
I will lay upon the exhausted earth,
Fall asleep upon the deep soil,
I will dream infinite things once
Again, and I am still in love with you.
Ayeshah Dec 2015
I don't like
these feelings
I'm so sick
of myself
for feeling how I do

I don't understand
how you can tell me
such sweet things

Promise me a better life
as long as
we're together
nothing
&
no one else matters

So many talks of
this
never ending love
you've
attained just for me

I'm your dream come true
your one and only

But You hold secrets
& blatantly
talk  to others
about me

Never have you said
one nice thing
in regard's to me

Whenever you've spoken
of me

It's been all the negatives
you've not mentioned your self
never about
your
WRONG DOINGS
&
not in front of me

Only all my problems
and how I make you feel

While taking advise from them
on us  yet not once
have you ever truly come to me


Keep talking to them and making it hard
let the advise you right out of my  life
& this here ****** up so called relationship

How funny
'cause you're pose
to be the one
to protect me
honor and cherish me


How can YOU ever
expect me to trust you
or believe in you ever again

when topic of discussions
have always been me
more so out of anger
yet none the less


I've never spoke
bad to anyone about you
even when given the chance to
I see no reason to do it EVER


so it'll only hurt the both of us
least that was my thinking

We're grown adults who have so many
ways to communicate
yet you rather
speak to others concerning me

You get a kick out of putting me down
& this helps how
by making fun of me or my mental

doesn't work either
not for me
or what we could of shared
so why do it and why hurt me


Everyone has issues  
complications and problems


The ones between us
could have been worked on

You'd rather
speak to others instead of me
lied to me right in my face
as you looked me in my eyes

Sadly-pathetically so
I believed you and
you betrayed me


Caused me to to fall for
an illusionistic relationship
a fictional reality

I had a desire to be loved
above all else


Thought I was chosen
out of an undying
unyielding love

I've come to find this
isn't true
and it's never gonna be


I'll FOREVER
play
second fiddle
like a
monkey in the middle


Tired seems to be all I am
and ever can be

Sick of this burning
longing
to belong
to have someone
I call home

Because
if home is where the heart is
then I ain't got one

Your heart
isn't even close anymore
to
being
my home sweet home


'Cause I don't have
no more room
for all this so called love
or
what you kept showing
to be your type of love


My undoing
was you proving


* I've been entertained
by your delusional
despicable
deceptions
of a falsified
made up
"relationship"

We can't ever be
what
you've just proved
we
aren't
and
always will be
completely & utterly
  
STRANGERS!
Copyright ©
Ayeshah K.C.L.N
1977-Present  
All right reserved
I never knew I was meant to be alone I used to think no matter what my past was  it wasn't my present and therefore I kept this belief that there was someone out there for me and I wouldn't give up hope or stop trying to allow love in, now I know I'm pose to be alone, I've tried this so called love thing and have fail & fallen too many time, I'm no longer interested in being loved i love me and my kids love me family and handful of friends i am content as is and rather not know this type of pain again.... yet when it finds me lol I wont fight it but i'll not go searching or looking I'm not even gonna wait for it.
I haven't FOR about 2years and have no reason to do so now, just thinking and venting, past has a way of making me feel some type way. thank you all for reading!
brandon nagley May 2015
Differentiation limits phone time credits,
Toned line Pennant's!!

Conversation's with god are slight different to thy normal ear,
Intercedence of masculine loving tears!!!!

Purveyor's forevermore drape over thine own places,
Thy present realities thy past,
Yet put on with children's face's!!!

Still you were bred to illusionistic supplications,
Wherein the engaged stay the same!!

No changing shall appear!!!!
Feeling is an illusionistic place
You convince yourself with things that aren’t in place
It can **** you or boost you to a higher place
It is difficult to describe what feeling is in place
Some times you might develop them in the wrong time or place
You might feel happy for no reason in place
Or you might feel sad and it fits correctly into place
There are feeling that are even beyond time and place
If you want to know how it feels to be emotionless then maybe death is your place
Life without feelings is a tasteless place
Knut Kalmund Jul 2020
In the aisle air lies the smell of honesty from filthy hands
Along lurks deceit in subtle stance
One evolved from hardly reaped beans
The other is sprayed by gloves in billious-green

And so they dance around the weary noses
Eager and revulsion awaited to be ****** in
One's scared of exposure
The other of sin

An illusionistic pas de deux
The people overly drained to grasp
And they never will

Or will they?
I will be waiting for the epiphany
Until the birds cease to fly
c rogan Jun 2020
I walk down the empty sidewalk, south towards the city light.  
Golden ice glass covers twigs and still born buds like a hypothermic glaze
Claustrophobic and sterile, preserved sacred artifacts
Your clothes crucify against me like hot water we showered under, unfiltered winter sun; learning what peace is.
She’s on the phone, paper cut thighs.  We slept in the same bed last night, warming the sheets.  I keep you close so you don’t have to.
Tattoos of bookmarks, her quiet voice gravitating the landscape like starlight silken water; keeps the planets pinned in place behind dust collected charcoal sky.
Rhythmical beauty of cluttered strange songlike beauty,
Luminescent trees bow to the collage of rippling temperate light
Wearing my clothes and memories like the stories that saturate the senses
Monuments of scraps on display,
Crepitating stiff fabric frosts over on the surface,
My voice permeates the stitches
Like the mild toxicity of long-lost lovers.
Sedated neutral placidity, a rare syzygy

Blackout night blackout poetry, streetlight washed porcelain
Scrubs clean the severity of tenebrous light and shadow
Tender rain delicately succumbs to snow
Absent cold universe of separation
Melts upon collision with wet stone
These fallen angels rest peacefully now in the empty dark
Adumbral and indistinct, illusionistic tame dreams
Have mercy... for I’ve just begun to learn to dress for the weather.  

So --- I’ll blow on your tea while its too hot --- the warmth spreading from my fingertips --- to yours.  Green leaves, translucent gems bobbing in jade water.  Make you warm breakfast in the morning, your half-sleep cuddling into my side, reaching through layers of warm blankets.
--- I had begun to forget my walk last night.
Fenna Capelle May 2020
Through rolling landscapes I found a path I needed to pursue  
It reached out as far as my mind could bear to let it free
Like a doubtful sceptic who, in dreaming, knew not where to turn to  
And I followed it to the last caress of its sheer certainty

Yet the dreamer lost his dreams; the sceptic forgot his playful irony
And I, in dreaming, lost the path and wandered off for shame
For, what's the goodness in a leader that finds a way to conjure me  
And yet can play the boundless tyrant to the very same?

I wandered off, and found an ocean; some fair, illusionistic place  
That seemed sheer miracle to all I hoped my dreams would bring
But the sea now, in her appetite, has devoured all the days
And conjured all I was, my hopes and pride and my imagining

The horizon now has caught my dreams
The old road my footsteps; the tyrant's stroke lies buried in the sea
And in every convulsion of that road lay a truth, or so it seems
That all we are is what we owe to what we one day wished to be

— The End —