Best Deluding Poems


Premium Member Ruminations On Life

(The news of the death of dear and near ones reaching us on a daily basis has left me thinking of the transitoriness of life and hence this poem) 


Is not our life a wave of energy coursing through ether 
Just like flickering flames or fleeting gleams that fly
Which when stopped, like a weed scorched by the sun
Or a tree felled down by a merciless axe, we will die

Is not our life a theatrical performance,
Where we don the roles we are assigned 
Some, playing the roles of tyrants or kings
While some act as meek minions consigned

Is not our life a voyage through rough seas
Where we paddle on and on over billowing tide
Never asking where we are heading to
Nor knowing through what currents we ride

Is not our life the footprints left on sandy shores
Washed away instantly by the incoming wave
Not able to measure their length or width
Or be traced as they immediately cave

Is not our life as illusory as the mirage of the desert
Staying beyond our grasp and endlessly deluding
Soothing like an oasis among the dunes of sand
Sometimes like a nightmare awfully distressing

Is not our life a little space lying somewhere
Between our infant cradle and our grave
Where we have struggled to secure our slot
But soon ousted by others who for our place crave

Still we live on, never in despair but in hope
That beyond this mortal life and its tangled ties
Somewhere for us, eternity’s mighty portals await
To harbor our souls when from deep slumber we rise!

Premium Member I Don'T Know and What If

I don't know
I don't know
I don't know
Let it sink in
I don't know the answer
I don't know who you are
I don't know myself
I don't know how to get there
I don't know her
I don't know you that well
I don't know the next step

I don't know the answer
Or maybe I do
What if I am pretending
What if not knowing is my way of controlling you
Not having to take responsibility
What if I just want to see what you know
What if I am practicing to become a politician
Or maybe it's true 
I don't know

I don't know who you are
I would like to
Really I would
What if we spent more time together
I think that would help
What if you opened up a bit more
What if I listened more
That's not always easy
I'm still trying to figure out myself
That's right
I don't know myself

There are times I think I do
When I think I have figured me out
What if I'm deluding myself
What if I can't handle the truth
What if I need some time alone, to figure it out
What if I don't know, how to get there from here

I could ask for directions
Then what kind of man would I be
What if it would be okay, to question myself
To be able to say 
I don't know
I don't have the answers
What if like you, I'm just trying to figure it out
What if, I know myself better than I think
What if it's my way, of protecting myself

When I was young
A girl said "I don't know you that well"
Still she wanted to be with me
Not because she wanted to know me better
It was a hunger we both felt
I don't know her anymore
I didn't know her then
What if I had said no
Had not gone down that road to losing myself
What if I had waited
Waited, till I knew myself
Just a little better
I don't know
And yes sometimes I do
What if "I don't know" is the excuse I used
To do the things
I wanted to do
What if by saying, "I don't know the next step"
I wasn't responsible
I didn't have to take the blame
I could have waited
But I didn't want to

I don't know
I don't know
But
What if
I did
What if I do
I don't know
But 
What if 
What if it's all nothing but a game
I don't know
Still round and round I go
What if
I stopped
I don't know
I just don't know!

See No Evil

Utopian dreams of HALCYON days are blind to devilry.
   Where OPULENT wealth with SONOROUS, grandiloquence,are feared by JEALOUSY.
   PENUMBRA casts it's shadow dark, so prying eyes don't see the  Light,
   And DESULTRY whose changing ways, distracts observant eyes.
   EXUBERANT  spirits are deluding, masking minds from clarity.
   CREPUSCULAR, earths twilight night, and eerie shades of dawn,
   Where evil hides in virtues guise, as Faith then Hope and Charity.
   Those VISCERAL feelings deep inside, are lampooned by pasquinades.
   These sarcastic, CYNICAL tirades, arranged by evil to avert, the devil in disguise,
   Who tempts with promises he will not keep, beware, be very wise.

   1/ 30/ 2016.


Premium Member Lie

lie
fake, fudge
deluding, duping, deceiving
falsity, falsify, facticity, factuality
presuming, prevailing, predicating
validity, veracity
truth

Premium Member Forgive Me Not

Sorry does not drool from jilted lips
Nor, does sin seep, through sagging seams
Thus, Poison held in vile vials
Culminate disturbing dreams
Are transgressions fate and folly
from a cup that all must sip
And suffer from some turn and trial
Just to get forgiveness

Or are we prone, from wish or wisdom
Hoping we be un-bequiled 
From the quill that penned the potion
Deluding hate, with strong denial 
What is strength and what is weakness
Facing facelessness with smile ?
"til the soul's consumed by fire 
Forgiveness sure must take a while

My transgressions, posted stealthy 
on the sleeve, I wear at night
Looks to me as pure white linen
But, kept discreetly out of sight
I bruise your wing, you break my bow
It's been this way, since forever
I do forgive thee this I know
Though you-me, not and never.

Premium Member The Attractiveness of Sin

Sin is so very an attractiveness thing
our flesh bows to its allurements
believing its suttle words  so suggestive
its power holds us in its amusements

The Bible declares sin so dangerous
it corrupts and corrodes the heart
makes it deceitful and desperately sick
totally blinding us in no small part

This evil all came in at the garden in Eden
Eve rebelling from all that was good
persuading herself the tree was fine food
then convinced Adam both misunderstood

Sin dresses attractively in our fallen state
luring us to think that all is going be right
deluding each of us to our own folly
no wonder God says stand true to fight

Paul warns us speaking to the Ephesians
be strong and armed against devil's cunning
for our enemy, the devil uses sin to blind us
look to the Lord to send Satan running


Oxymorons

Paltry poetic presidential prattlings on poultry playing
  cockalorums chasing chickens, censured to castigate the cockerals,
   tricky tray turbo turkey tidbits tentanize the titillations;
wild wispy winds whisper worldly wasted wiry winsome wiles 
  dancing delights deluding delicate demigod domiciles,
twittering tweets teasing tenacious tantalizing tongue twisters
  residing riddled rattled ransom rasping revolving roars,
minority middle men meltdown midst macrocosmic mayhem
 Washington's wonderland weeps wreckage within waiting walls.
© DM Babbit  Create an image from this poem.

Minds Morally Blind and Unkind

Deceit and duplicity, vengeance and vanity
Exploit our weaknesses and dissipate our souls’ strength
As arrogance cockroaches multiply their insanity
We diminish the strength of our faith 

The more we immerse ourselves in new technologies
Stung by advances in artificial intelligence
Deluding our ignorance and bestowing empty eulogies
On partners we loathe despite pangs of conscience

That work harder to retain a semblance of humanity
In souls gone dead and mad with material wealth
Accumulated and concealed from established authority
In the mistaken belief that the theft we perpetuate in our stealth

Shan’t leave a trail auditors will pursue
In our bid to aggrandize an increasingly hollow ego
Gone insensitive and unreceptive to the moral malaise and torture that ensue
As the moral compass hitherto central to our lives we forgo

In preference for catalyzing the rat race that the vulnerable
Crush underfoot
To splurge with disgust as the horrible and the irascible
Thrive in the sight of the sycophants we recruit

As cheerleaders
With unabashed shame
In the midst of death traders and peddlers
On whom we’re not able to pin blame

Cos together we rot
In body and mind
Our consciences bought and caught
Up in webs of ego-tripping that render us morally blind and unkind.

The Empath

“The Empath”

Fighting the darkness such a futile desire
It was I that once asked that my heart might inspire
Wanting destiny altered..refusing to see
Deluding oneself leads to vast misery
I asked understanding the deep mysteries of time
I have touched divine purpose and all things sublime
So why still do I ask for more answers within?
I must take up my cross that true life might begin
One day darkness, he answered…you’re forever alone,
You are the empath..you can never go home.
Why do you wonder if you’re cursed and or blessed?
You know all things beautiful but never can rest
To see love so clearly feel her beauty unfold
You must wander as home sick and give what you know
Your heart is the treasure you’ve paid with you life
The currency abandonment, betrayal and strife
Not for self have you paid, for true love cannot take
To know what you asked ones heart bleeds, it must break
Though forever concealed, it had to be true 
Still you have made all the choices it was all up to you.

Lawrence Schrank
APOM

Desert Heat

Sweltering anger spills raw emotion 
dispatching choppers in the air,
intense heat disseminates murmuring voices,
discharging menacing messages packed with fear.

Suddenly the academic mob appears, 
and storms up the bullet rigged stairs,
while the deceptive tree watches with opposing eyes  
calculating their blazing passion 
and ignoring their desparate cries.

Intensity swells, 
the sizzling temperature increases,
unflinching voices resonates, 
ripping up fortified roof 
and penetrate their deep flaming scars.

Footsteps thunder across the room,
while the beguiling tree sits listless 
pouring salt into their bleeding wounds.

“Answer us now!” they shouted 
“We are tired of your choreograph lies”
but the tree kept uttering deluding words
that were already familiar to their ears.

Mealymouthed explanation coincide with
years of empty promises  swims to the surface 
and consume their heartfelt sentiments.

Desperation looms over sun scorched faces, 
sadness cracked  their blazing lips,
tears roll down their stricken faces,
but the tree looked at them with ostentation.

 “Tomorrow”, they uttered
 “We give you until tomorrow to solve this matter”.
 the wind tossed  the tree to and fro, 
 bending its arm and breaking its charm.

Anxiety brewed, tension flares, 
but the tree and its entourage disappeared
leaving the academic mob in deep despair.


  ©2013 Christine Phillips

Ego Vultures

What do you see in the mirror of your reflection? 
your own body, or your own detection? 
or the competition of another...the mindless mind occupy your subjective projector
Confusing, deluding...dreams know more order, dreams show more practical structure
The Ego is your master and you the acute apprentice infecting the weak of reality 
using the close resources to master it's design in your mind
It's built your normality and to question is your own insanity 
Feasting upon your wretched blindfold granting your desires \
it gave you your house, that house in which it made you. 
the fatal awareness that mostly last breaths discover
a touching leap too late too seeped with much too weep 
And by then too little to seek what then shall you do once you see the truth?

Could you even muster your own imagination and destroy natures enemy
Or are you the Anti-persona dripped in your own tragedy rippled and shelled
making a hell of a heaven or a heaven of a hell this is the abundant device 
so rarely fought so quiet like mice so if you unveil this master of tricks 
be sure to find your way out of it like shattered glass you may find yourself 
lost without hope grinding deeper into the oblivion vanishing like air in smoke.
© Paul K K  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Multilingual Birds of a Feather


     The Mockingbird sings out his misleading best,
  
     in hopes to attract a dupe with a nest,

     where the squatter believes mate’s eggs should belong;

     so mimics and jabbers uncountable songs.


     Catbirds and Thrashers, related critters,

     both grey North Americans sport throats of a twitter.

     These gifted Warblers mock tricky bird tunes,

     deceiving, deluding as feathered dragoons.



     In fairness to balance the Tweeters’ intent,

     creating, demanding a need to invent

     a song to attract a new or lost mate:

     so, a beacon to follow and commitment to state.

     

                   EXAMPLE MOCK SONGS

              whistling, hey-hey yip pittie-yap
              frog gurgle, snarf-chickie claw-saw
              peep peeping piccolo-staccato bleat
              sniftering chit-chat, yodel-do do
              snerling, rat trap, blah tat-tat-tat
              crunchy nasal chirp, coo-coo-coo

Blind By Mod

Modernisation is hopping her repercussion
 Modernisation is driving her civilisation
 This is the safari; that brain the colony
 The colossal obnoxious tenets of the West
 Calling her to the deluding evacuation.

 The edifice her architect had strictly structured
 Who can dare to alter it?
 Even on her own body and soul.

 Variety upon variety, she want to put on
 That is her whisper why, she mime the day.
 A Bimbo! Mimicking the mockery of the West.

 Who is barbaric in this case?
 Reason! She revolt the reasoning
 Focus! She resist the purpose
 Loyal! She refuse the modesty.

 Let her believe this one
 That in her friction state
 Her forward (will) never; her backward (will) ever.

 Perhaps, she should recall this one
 She need to behold
 If she must to recount, in her world.

Till Shines the Day

Tenderly hits the rain on the window

Cheers my heart as it sweeps away the dust

Fits me between roses of green meadow

Deluding me to dream, or so I must

So softly it fell as poets may tell

Passes on the gentle chill of winter

Carries me to you as I hoped it will

Lost dreams to miss, and nights to remember

Still I remember what nights left behind

Still I rejoice when rain knocks on the door

As it flames my heart, too hopeful yet blind

To shine on sweet moments I have no more

For as rain drops sneak when sun is away

So does my heart, steals dreams till shines the day


From: Echoes (http://wp.me/1om48)

Happenstance Hazards

Expectation's misdemeanors
     outflanking volition 
infringed upon experience's
       self-imposed options,
griping on about whirlwind's
      imposing velocity to
  which atmospheric pressure
     has naught resolving power
  whence high tide pressure rises
       persuading tendencies,
universe hardly questions 'why' 
   to phenomenons' meddle,
psychobabble' s deliberations
 deluding  prospective trespasses,
conclusive interpretation hence life
   is but a crapshoot game of chance
© Paloma P   Create an image from this poem.

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