Best Delusions Poems
let me be a wanderlust vixen in the vortex ~
a voltage liquified to the upbeat vibrato,
versing vehemently in venom-glazed grief,
and rehearsing your criminalism
like a serial liar ~
because I am too voiceless
to command the Monarch of mercury
to vindict the sojourners
that lure me to their blind holes,
and vandalise the chromatic criticisms
that clench me in their cyanide claws,
through the cracks
branching in the demonised billboard …
Oh scorching serpent,
slithering with velvet-tongued torment,
never leave me tethered
between the lips of loneliness ~
like a leaflet tucked on
the seaglass screen,
screaming for those stygian seashells
to lock my secrets behind
the bars of misplaced passwords,
because, this pulse of paranoia
is too pure to palpitate
in the pixels of poisoned prayers ~
and there is no anecdote
that annihilates the anxious
acronyms of abandonment,
streaming through the realms
of disposed dimensions.
There are no strings attached
that hum in hexed hoaxes
through the violin vendetta
strumming an acapella ~
through the lusty noise
of monsters longing for
the loss of my sacred insanity …
perhaps, the voice in my head
is an ode to the orchestrating shadows,
too mindless to manipulate ~
scripted in secluse
replaying the ruins,
paused in the prison
a sketch of sleep in splitting senses …
as bipolar ballads
tame their schizophrenic strokes ~
when the Maestro of moon
mediates a megalomaniac
sonnet of venting slaves,
in the muted matriarchy of mantras
that keep repenting rage,
in the impulsive incandescence
of my icy azure ink ~
refusing the warmth
of vulnerable sagas
that ache to heal me
and release the
insomniac coldness ~
blanketed with the sparks
of murky mermaid stars …
I own this label ~
the name of a lunar lunatic,
and this is a war,
between the sphinx of sabotage
and the never-ending nocturns ,
as, I remain weapon-less
like a cardinal iris,
rewriting the rules
of unshakable madness
in your maniac meanderings,
ineffable ~ invisible ~ incurable
an impostrous
i n v a d e r …
Dancing with delusions, sparks of hellfire
Course through my lugubrious quill pen.
Distorted words igniting fear,
Anxiety fills crevices,
Encircling, silencing,
Asphyxiating.
Walls closing in,
Compressing.
Hope fades,
Doom.
Dread
Runs cold.
Veins poisoned,
Sanity slips
Unmercifully.
The angels are mimicked.
Light dimming, darkness descends
As demons mingle with the dead.
Apocalyptic skies crack open
To wash away all that you held sacred.
……Somewhere a lone survivor of a plane crash
A man of sound and reason
standing tall and proud.
But a voice of lies and madness
whispering words of doubt.
His mind a fortress sturdy
no shadows in the crowd.
But a path of doom and darkness
waiting to break out.
Delusions like a serpent,
coiling in his brain,
Paranoia like a venom,
oozing from his core.
Twisting truth and logic,
driving him insane.
The world a hostile army,
waging endless war.
Dissociation like a vise,
squeezing his soul tight,
A mirror of identity,
shattered into shards.
Lost within the maze,
his selfhood out of sight.
The pieces of his being,
scattered near and far.
Psychosis like a demon,
dancing in his mind,
The music of madness,
playing its eerie song.
Illusions like a spider,
weaving webs to bind.
As his grip on sanity,
was slowly being wronged.
Not working…..
He found a radio, a possible voice of hope and light.
…..Working
Then a change of course,
a turn of fate’s design,
A mind once plunged in madness,
now rising to the fight.
From blackness to brightness,
a force of hope divine.
An ascent from affliction,
a story of great might.
As his grip on sanity was
slowly being restored,
Illusions like a spider
weaving webs to break.
The music of madness
playing its final chord.
Psychosis like a demon
dancing in his wake.
The pieces of his being
scattered near and far,
Lost within the maze his
selfhood comes to light.
A mirror of identity
shattered into stars.
Dissociation like a vise
squeezing his soul bright.
The world a hostile army
waging endless peace.
Twisting truth and logic
driving him to sane.
Paranoia like a venom
oozing from his fleece.
Delusions like a serpent
coiling in his mane.
But a path of doom and darkness
waiting to fade out.
His mind a fortress sturdy
no shadows in the crowd.
But a voice of lies and madness
whispering words of doubt?
A man of sound and reason standing tall and proud?
A lone survivor of a plane crash……
We
sugar
the pill if
life is not all
sweet.
Dark shadows cast by trees at night-
as wind gives life to limbs that scare,
so oft can stir such inner fright.
Dark shadows cast by trees at night
morph images- let thoughts incite
unwanted feelings of despair;
dark shadows cast by trees at night-
as wind gives life to limbs that scare.
The mind plays games and creates fear,
as tree-limb shadows writhe around
like eerie snakes, entwined, austere.
The mind plays games and creates fear,
while courage fades- truths disappear.
As steady moonbeams sweep the ground,
the mind plays games and creates fear-
as tree-limb shadows writhe around.
October 24, 2020
~1st Place~
Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 24 - Triolet- ABaAabAB
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Judged: 11/12/2020
Phantasmagoria (a shifting series of phantasms,
illusions, or deceptive appearances, as in a
dream or as created by the imagination).
dictionary.com
I gave my heart, my spirit, my soul
Yet you took my essence but the emotions you returned with false and cold
My love for you was honest and true
Yet there one thing you couldn't give me was you
Blinded by this need in me for that bond
Delusions of a love that would go on and on
And so my heart is left with loneliness and despair
Yet you don't care
The wisdom I learned it in a painful process
I still search for the answer to this dilemma that makes no sense
I place this on a higher plane
Seeking the answer from a Superior Being
I ask just why had it happened to me
A thousand bees never settling down,
buzzed within his head.
Their confused drone, into a ruffled rumble grew,
lengthening into frenzied drum beats,
taking the might of roaring waves
or gaining the momentum
of a plane, prior to take off.
Mind lacking coordination
limbs receiving discordant commands,
he suddenly hurtled into the streets,
stepping out from regimented norms
and breaking loose the tether of reason,
never walking, never running
but scuttling from side to side
like a piece of driftwood over the current.
Hearing the cawing of a crow
suddenly, he into a prophet grew.
stood with arms outstretched,
waiting for the crumb of bread
to be dropped in the manner Elijah was fed
by the raven in his lonesome cave.
Seeing the audience swelling bigger
he was enthused, greatly cheered.
The riff- raff and the scraps
swarmed around to see the show.
Mounting the steps to the pulpit,
in unfaltering voice
and with fire in his words,
to the congregation,
surveying him with fun and sneer, he thundered....
“The Doomsday is near”
With finality in his tone, he said-
“Repent and flee from the wrath to come.
The tree that doesn’t bring forth,
good fruits shall be hewn down,
and cast into eternal fire.”
The transition was quite easy.
He scurried from Elijah to John the Baptist
and from John the Baptist to Elijah
oscillating between--
sense and non-sense.
My days full of joy.
Delusions waver away
like the fading colors of the rainbow.
Strife is turned into peace
as nightingales and their chicks
sing in concert within the stage of the night.
6/25/2024
She was half past metrical
quarter nonsensical theatrics,
bordered south of burbled oddities,
fashioned herself enigmatically stated
whorling an overly zealous lexicon,
recklessly aimed for macrocosmos
bust a rhyme on defeated asphalt,
whereupon she never ceased to
waver from gumption's potential
'tween vast illusions of poetry
“The writer must believe that what he is
doing is the most important thing in the
world. And he must hold to this illusion
even when he knows it is not true.”
John Steinbeck
I rule the World just for a minute,
And all I see is MINE!
A sigh of Time that feels infinite-
Some stroll beyond the "borderline"
This Galaxy, it belongs to ME!
Like Alice through the "Looking Glass"
How sweet this mental Odyssey!
Too bad it never, ever lasts...
With weary despair, I cast my glare amid the bottomless pit,
only to see your reflection, mirrored in it,
the whole of time, with just me to watch,
a beacon of light, waving a torch.
Chasing dogs through space...
With a child's playground, in an adults mind,
the cows are milking me, it must be time for tea?
Universal thought, with a timeless stare,
what delights do you hide under there?
So many aeons of civilizations,
all with just one realization,
to come to life with such dramatization,
across chasms of time and canyons of space,
those dogs led me a merry race
Surge the transcendental shift, give your consciousness a healthy lift
and breeze through the Ether, with delusions of grandeur,
out among the worlds far flung,
You hear the wind? That's my song thats sung,
Feel the rhythm! Hear it pound?
subtle vibrations create stable ground,
with a twist of Higgs Boson, matter is bound!
The branches of life that spring from thee,
all the tentacles of a family tree,
and to think i'm still just a monkey!!
Bring on peace and love and i'll go bananas ;)
©John-Ovan.P.Hull
The game is over.
Lifeless, shattered dreams, lie upon the blood stained floor;
provoked by emotional imbalance and societal conflict,
the trigger is pulled.
Lifeless, shattered dreams, lie upon the blood stained floor,
manifested in euphoric delusional dreams;
the trigger is pulled,
God, family, and community abandoned.
Manifested in euphoric delusional dreams,
seeking power and control;
God, family, and community abandoned,
living in the shadows of dark despair.
Fantasizing in glory,
provoked by emotional imbalance and societal conflict;
the trigger is pulled,
the game is over.
(Dzachuka Tibet, summer of 2017)
The Madness of the Crowd and Other Popular Delusions
The crowd is always prone to madness
Since reaction as a herd in danger
Demands conformity without reason.
The fact we live in a time of madness
Is nothing new or unusual,
Relative Reality after all being
Merely a conspiracy of relatives.
But sometimes it seems it’s all now extra crazy
As traditional boundaries break down
And everyone is free to think and say
And increasingly do whatever they want.
The ascendency of gender dysphoria
And acceptance, even celebration
Of child mutilation
Being a case in point.
But the fact is, we live in a world of illusion
Which the madness and delusions of the crowd
Is merely attempting to adapt to,
As all our perceptions and thoughts filter through
A mind which can do no other than interpret and distort.
These are the tools we are given,
A mind and body hardwired to survive
In a world of illusion, thus adapted
To the point of expertise with spinning illusions.
It’s not our fault, but instead our destiny
To find a way through
Out of the Cave of Unknowing
Into the Space
Of a land before time.
(12/6/24)
She's the closer in her
own intangible talent,
came upon an absurd
assumption she
might be a poet, merely
discernible as conveyed
ill-drifting imagination
betwixt dispersed antagonism
and magniloquent coercion,
her mediocre existence aced cliché
vanquished 'neath forewarning
zephyrs amidst wildflowers on fire
& half-forgotten frothy seascapes,
furthermost poetically fated delusions
I wont lose a moments sleep over the loss of you,
I will not miss the broken promises shattered dreams and lies,
You took my heart on a journey that left me homeless,
Root-bound, empty,
I was given over by the luster the sparkle in your eyes,
But now I see you for what you really are…..
My false self, my brokenness, my twisted world view,
The whispered doubt in the ears of a child,
No longer have you sway over me,
I have been convinced of the truth seen in the eyes of forgivness,
The door to the hidden places kicked down by fierce Love,
I am free, I am free, I am free.
Now you flee, now you flee, now you flee,
Your not me, your not me, your not me,
But the delusion’s of a phantom life,