Best Delusion Poems
Opulent the full moon glowed
Flooding light on a rocky road;
Casting down his gauzy veil
Luminescent to probe the pale.
Misty soft the shadows went
Into the secret sacrement;
Where evil meets the occult tryst
Of darkness dressed in amethyst
Where enchantments live to cast a spell
Within the fires that burn in hell.
Stealthy, sly the spirits tread
Through muted memories of the dead
To thrust their trance without disgrace
And exorcise the devil's trace.
Where he leads are feet to follow
Through the graves that fill the hollow
Then his key unlocks the door
To find that love lives nevermore
Fanning life's hot fleeting fires
In hearts filled with lost desires.
Midnight casts its cloudy beams
Smudging all the tarnished dreams
Leading each by knowing hand
Knowing none will understand;
And all who lay in soft beds sleeping
Opened eyes perplexed with weeping;
Each alone with poison's pain
That filled the night with tears of rain
And through it all there hangs aloft
The cunning moon so velvet soft.
Sailors Rusty and Oz cruise back from the steely shores of the Bahamas, underway and navigating to Key West. Tired from the ship’s routine, duties, and three long months away. There is a full moon, and the stars shine like diamonds in the black sky.
Underneath a full silver moon
there on an open sea
Her golden locks flowing down,
drapes her back endlessly.
Flawless, in perfect harmony
with the water.
Propelling herself up from under
darkened hues of emerald green.
Plunging down, one with the ocean.
Her mermaid tail glistening colors
of violet and crimson.
She swims towards the ship,
the ship’s port holes lit brightly
shine through, she catches sight of me.
We lock eyes, her cobalt blue eyes
I would get closer to see.
Whether a dream or imagination,
a raft I’ll take, make my way to her.
Knowing not if she’ll flee,
I s l o w l y lean over.
We kiss.
Mermaid shmermade, Oz you’re drunk.
Mythical half-female, half-fish creatures
They only exist in seafaring lore.
Like you,
I too saw a mermaid,
she wasn’t made up.
A real sea cow as a matter of fact.
Cared nothing of vanity,
nothing like they are made out to be.
Manatees are slow-moving aquatic mammals,
with human-like eyes,
bulbous faces and paddle-like tails
Pay attention to detail,
and not to Circe,
you see my friend,
you kissed a manatee!
Okay, okay, I confess. We stole the only hyperdrive ship that wasn't destroyed in the war. But what choice did we have? Our world is on the brink of annihilation. For hundreds of years my species has polluted the air, soil and water. Global wars have decimated once thriving metropolises. Crime and pandemics are rampant. Our only hope was the construction of spaceships capable of interstellar travel so that we might locate a new world, a new home. But the bombs took them all out, save one. After seizing control of the space station, we did what we must to survive. And so here we are, travelling through the void of space, searching for a suitable planet to make our new start.
Ours was once a proud race whose cultural achievements were of the highest order. Surely, we can reach that pinnacle once more if given the chance. Our sensors have located what appears to be a living planet in a solar system beyond our own. We have engaged the hyperdrive engines and expect to reach our destination momentarily. The excitement among the crew is palpable. We enter the atmosphere and achieve a perfect, soft landing atop a large promontory. Eureka! Our new home, a paradise. The sea is vast and pristine, the skies are azure blue, the air sweet with the scent of the local flora. No more wars. No more pollution. Never again will guns and bombs and disease plague us. Just as we are contemplating this glorious future, we espy a message being written in the sky by some type of primitive aircraft and in an alien tongue.
WELCOME TO PLANET EARTH
the search is over
new start for a dying race
hell is for dreamers
“ Affirmation without discipline is the beginning of delusion. Jim Rohn “
Relentlessly I pace around the room,
like a caged lion, dreaming of vast forests,
yearning for savannah grasslands,
vaguely remembered.
I fret for I feel inadequate,
still, I yearn despite the drudgery of life.
My thirst for you is insatiable,
always increasing though deluded,
as if I'm living in some devastating desert
where no fertile oasis thrives.
How can I enforce discipline? I cannot do it.
Night deepens and I yearn for the day.
Lying in bed I wonder
how much of all this I can take.
At last, my wife's home,
reeking of foul-smelling cigarettes,
reeling with too much drink,
dress soiled with what I dare not think.
She smiles at me, I freeze revolted.
Her kiss is blistering
as I wipe her saliva off,
I help her reluctantly
to her dark solitary cot.
How easy my fire is quenched!
All sweet song is muted. I despair.
How many wearisome nights are appointed to me?
That we should exist
when life is just like a passing wind,
it comes and goes, extinguished forever.
Till then, she and I are but chained,
each to his own devious devices.
Will I ever see joy again?
I retire to my fitful sleep
and dare to dream.
Perhaps one day.....
Who knows?
The newborn dawn is nigh,
its first rays are fresh and bright.
Yet, despite reality and delusion,
I dare to dream.
Placed 1st
Blindfold sight of life
whirl hues delusion that branch
out, with waves of pouring fears
Voices, colors strife
a deluded avalanche,
there’s no one that sees or hears
1/8/2016
Poetry Contest: Something Different-SEDOKA FORM (Rhymed)
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
"Nine Inch Nails, Ten Pins and the Purl Stitch"
She takes the cake
they offer, chewing too rapidly,
she Shrews when she speaks
I’ll beat warpath drums, she says,
no mistake
I’m a groper ... goody two shoes
she says
mouth wide open
songs problematic
she's done and she's gone
a stitch loose in the weave
drop one pearl one
dropped
gone
for kissing small bait in the shallows
she circles her quarry
bites their backs
she sits astride
the legs of a hot gripping story
sits like a monkey
begging for peanuts
she spits in comments
I'm thoroughly congruent
in moments of questionable torrent
I am all here
dear boy
dear girl
knit one
drop one pearl hooray
I am all here, here hearing
all seeing, all knowing
I throw it back
and I’ll give you
the crux of the crutch
all knowing
make no mistake.
my good god
I don’t care
I don’t care
do we care?
I don’t care.
truly I eat their sour pears,
place more wax in my ears
she throws pearls
decorously adorning
the minds of sows’ rears
left wing molting
a mouth full of feathers
right wing feeding them
she’s all knowing
bling bling bling bling
bling bling
bowling ball glowing
Ten pins
preparing minds
sharp needles
and yarns
Purl Stitch
knit one,
drop one
knit one
drop one
win
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
“Ram” – Paul, Linda Mcartney
https://youtu.be/dQwdanGKILI
We're so sorry, uncle Albert
But we haven't done a bloody thing all day
We're so sorry, uncle Albert
But the kettle's on the boil
And we're so easily called away
Hands across the water, water
Heads across the sky
Hands across the water, water
Heads across the sky
"Sit by my side, and let the world slip: we shall ne'er be younger."
"There's small choice in wrotten apples".
"If I be waspish, best beware my sting.”
I looked at my community, and everything was ruined.
I thought, "It's a conspiracy; it's someone else's doing."
Day by day, I blamed the world---angry and frustrated:
The "Man"; the cops; "society"... THEY were the ones who hated.
Everybody said the same, so that's what I believed;
but gradually it dawned on me that I might be deceived...
I watched the young men stealing; I watched the gangsters killing;
I watched the girls soliciting; I watched the dealers dealing;
I watched the children fighting; I listened to them swearing;
I watched my neighbors trash the streets---and sneer at me for caring.
The more I watched and listened, the more things became clearer:
"We've been looking through binoculars instead of in the mirror.
"Outside of our community, the world is getting on:
Folks of many colors and cultures get along.
What's separating us and them is not conspiracy
but fundamental differences in how we choose to be.
"If we could just be HONEST about how we really are
and work to CHANGE what isn't right in our OWN minds and hearts---
our behaviors and our values, the people we esteem---
we could end this nightmare and start to live the dream."
And after I had pondered and come to this conclusion,
I stepped into reality---and out of my delusion.
Dreams they're all around me,
it's hard to tell real life.
Monsters like in fairly tales,
my emotion turns to strife.
The sun starts getting closer,
my skin it starts to burn.
I look for somewhere to run
but don't know where to turn.
He makes his way towards me majestic also wise,
it was hard for me to distinguish between what's loving and what's lies.
My heart it starts to flutter,
My body starts to fall-
I try to scream out for help
but I don't know who to call.
Thus the journey's over,
now I'm on the ground.
Tears fall from my eyes-
my heart nowhere to be found.
Type casting Pirates of Penzance
Lining up those who’ll sing and dance
Some aced the illusion
Others beyond delusion
Laughing so hard I wet my pants
AP: 3rd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on April 8, 2019 for contest PIRATE THEMED LIMERICK sponsored by TANIA KITCHIN - RANKED 4TH
She's in love with the sound of her own voice
The pitch the tone the octave
Her one favorite topic is herself
She loves her audience captive and attentive
Their politeness is nothing short of adoration
Convinced there's no topic more worthy of the podium
She pictures herself filling the city stadium
Why else would she practice delivering monologues
She constantly craves to hear echoes of applause
Won't entertain the thought of nothing less
Imagining thunder of roaring standing ovations
She's bold she's grand she's totally delusional
Many have tried to break her but she's steady won't back down
She stands tall like a medal winning million dollar baby
She's always been daddy's girl and can do no wrong
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Posted on February 20, 2020
What the mind creates
Is real; the physical is
The illusion. Art born of
Passion like a finger that
Touches a wasps nest,
Be still and no harm will
Come . Storm clouds
Gather; I smell the linseed
On the canvas. Mind that
Guides the hand that
Guides the pigment that
Calms the storm. Fingers
Touch and we can see our
Soul? A sea of faces stare
At me; I am one, are they
The delusion?
He lives with her and says for sure, that's where he wants to be.
A lovely wife, who hides her strife, how attractive; Not to me.
Though she did stray, he chose to stay, defending love unkind.
He claims success, when it's a mess; A delusion of the mind.
He comes to me for I am free, my mind and soul complete.
I do not reflect; I have self-respect and can't settle for defeat.
It's difficult to say why he won't stay, perhaps I'm just to real.
He can't fool me, for I can see beyond ones fake appeal.
He will not leave, though she'll deceive and hide behind her fear.
It's way too late to close that gate; He would rather die than veer.
There was a time it crossed my mind, he'd pick this maiden fair.
This is me, miss reality, and he's not going anywhere.
Although I know that time will show, mistakes burn deep, ask me?
For I've been there without passions flare, and I lived in misery.
At least I know I'm not a show, but it seems that's what they crave.
A challenge, please! I'll never tease and you can mark that on my grave!
Today they believed the lies
the distorted truths… the accusations… and wrong-doing cries
the created fabrications which are easy to consume
conceptualizations and distortions… abundant and abloom.
Responsibility once assumed… but now rarely seen
reality now falsified… made convoluted… and obscene.
And the beat goes on….
as the mind is twisted
like that character… on Prodigal Son.
And while these false narratives appear
which the perpetrator wishes that all will embrace
the ego desperately asserts and manipulates
loyalty and trust is what it requires, and necessitates
but the soul is slaughtered… beaten… and no where to be found
and truth is tossed… lost… by perplexing theories which abound
while delusion….
leaves nothing but despair and mind confusion.
And life goes on….
the mind twisted
like that character… on Prodigal Son.
Opiate of delusion…
Tempted by the flesh again,
Insanity, on mind descends,
Fools are made, where love transcends,
Opiate of delusion,
Give your heart, your very soul,
Estatic mindset, does take hold,
Another’s heart, yet you control,
Opiate of illusion…
Don Johnson
inane mind games anchor us here
ego desires, mirrored by fear
fickle yet, is our attention
unstable orientation
we have driven ourselves to tears
16-July-2021