Best Illusions Poems
As We Stroll Along Lanes Of Truth, Lies Or Convenient Illusions
But if truth and light grace your soul
And a wisdom shields heart and mind,
You may in life hope for the best
As we stroll along lanes of truth, lies or convenient illusions
And either we come to know or not know
That to this dark world- we are less than nothing.
O truth! Does life and love gift all we need
As that gaze from stars crying while looking down
We then, that are not born of eternal seeds
Wade through this ever changing realm
Mired in the darkness which patiently lies, waiting within!
In love we think we are flowers blooming forever
In gardens devoid of decay
Yet invisible beyond that veil
Are powers that seethe in anger
Things that seek to destroy, and eat us alive.
Such foreboding exists, as does ground beneath bare and roaming feet
Although in blindness we see only with limited sight we have
Prone to seek peace, love and beauty,
We conjure up fantasies and dreams
Illusions that quell our deep and internal fears!
Ah, gone are days of the magical gods
They which could be insured to take the blame
Those that set us into perils, into savage wars
In our ignorance we saw- the gods played and wreaked havoc
As we, heaped upon this world mysterious gifts of darkness
And paraded forth as if living was a mere game
A thing which we mastered, a monster we truly controlled.
And in that deception we saw imagined gods that we had conquered
And we imagined the Gods that we had become-through our magnificent being!
Robert J. Lindley, May 20th 1989
Verse
Note: Deleted
Pine needles fall on manicured lawns
on quiet streets where elm trees grow
But in their midst a demon yawns
And screams through veins from which it flows
Hypodermic illusions line the curb
where cars are parlors for getting high
Overdosing in the suburbs
The inner city has no alibi
A nightmare on elm street
and Freddy Kruger is nowhere in sight!
But the boogeyman does not retreat....
yet some will not awaken from the night!
Written: May 15, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
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I’m neither harmonious nor a hidden hymn
Who said I'm wedded to whimsy, lilac looks?
to all those who gifted me
countless worries through the years.
Simply silhouettes in my rear—view mirror.
I sail past rhyming reefs,
of my quest faintly reflecting
Why should I let them define me anymore?
I make mistakes; so what?
my heart is full of love and ambrosian words—
it shines with rhapsody.
my hands can heal amidst the severest pain.
my mind envision cures
for sparkling vanilla—algae tears.
Tidal teals whisper tales that truly transform.
Despite doubts in glittering, grape-colored gales,
I'll face them as the north star kisses the sea.
I will rise and face them head on,
while history hisses at my heels.
I'll sustain my anxieties for what they are — illusions
with a clairvoyant cape and rivulets unraveled
what matters is now
what matters is my striving
what matters is the rise
toward rebellious rainbows
and what I require,
as a necklace of seashells
worn and stained with sepia
Living in a false vision,while creating illusions of bad decisions.In my past when my footsteps became ashes,I was stealing for others who really need it.I position myself in danger countless times for strangers with smiling faces who take advantage of kindness,weakness,and talents.But now that Im polished in my craft,Im well balanced surrounded with solid knowledge and display my wisdom that pays attention and listen before I solved them.With tunnel vision deciphering through the rumble and rewritten for those who gets misguided.Cause in my experience language is the true connection of us breathing,while others sleep and dream about living,manuevering through life in a empty body suit in flesh,that dont bleed or shed.Barricaded themselves in there own prison,even there reflection denies its own visit.Its ashamed many dont realize in life we have options to disengage derange or grab on tight to what feels right.I tend to go down memory lane,visualize those precious moments in the past,were all lies,giggles and laughs.But now that I found God,I disgarded my mask,to show my true demeanor and pave my positive mission everlast.
In the realm of beguiling shadows where illusions paint the sky,
The bias for balance is ignored, as reason takes its flight.
Disregarding the light of truth, madness steers the moral tales,
Woven through repetitive histories, hearts are chained in the prisons of insanity.
Divide and conquer, their ancient script,
In this illusion of choice, we step on a false stage.
Stones are thrown at the poet's fragile glass house,
Hypocrisy overshadows common sense, allowing deceit to pass.
With pen and sword, deceit weaves its dark attire,
Propaganda, a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing entire.
In a minefield of twisted visions, obscurity feeds on souls,
Nurturing the monsters born from the cries of broken foals.
Forgotten are the teachings of shattered hearts,
While hope falls, a victim of unspoken words.
Oppression and inequity shout loudly in the tears of the privileged,
As the waters of decadence spill, unloosing the poet's glass walls.
Through the mist of silent nights, hope dares not retreat,
Under the weight of a starless sky, it stumbles on weary feet.
Yet within the shadowed depths, a truth barely glows,
A beacon through the darkness, ever softly it shows.
For in the darkest corners, truth leaves an eternal trace,
A faint echo, a whispered note, in search of its rightful place.
In the heart where illusions crumble, the soul finds sweet release,
And the poet’s glass house, though fragile, finds true peace.
Mystical winds of destiny, spread your veiled wings,
Through twilight realms and silent screams, where the lost heart sings.
In a dance of shadows and light, the mystic path reveals,
Where the lines of fate intertwine with the soul's forgotten tales.
My Heart pours out remnants
of nothingness as I create in
form from Universes unknown
Union becomes Duality
a dash between birth and death
then disappears back
to Source from whence it sprung
for to remain in form is to be captive to
space and time
So does Purity only live
where no illusions dwell
in super seconds of no boundaries yet no escape
frequencies of freedom fashioned
timidly we taste
It remains a shadow we all chase in our
thousand million moments to bring
Heaven down to Earth before we are called
back again bowing —— b u o y a n t l y !
a moment
a sunbeam
passing through a window
So experience
crytalline illusions
and see how
the dancer
becomes the dance!
Let us take note
of birdsong in the
morning
Perhaps you feel
it's a kind of cosmic
joke
played by a card sharp
If you would stop and look
for a moment
You would see thar
crystalline illusions
are the things
that help us avoid despair
If you want to
taste the sunlight
Or feel the rain
on you body
Just open your soul
to the sunrise and
moonrise
which should guide you through
the days
Peace - Shalom - Yasu - Shanti
By: Misty and Dwayne Lackey
Here is a poem My husband and I wrote together.
Painted on the walls of righteousness
is a heart that is black and cold.
Gold closed your sad eyes.
Find the lies inside a mold.
Crush your mind and create.
A flower of yesterday's dream.
A seed without peace
is a voice so dark inside a scream.
Petals dull and pale.
Born a lost tear.
Cries of a tortured soul
entangled in an orchard of fear.
Shells dangling from moonlight night.
Stars fall silent and dear.
Paper cups for the sun's pillow,
drink of a thousand thirsty men.
Glass captured the reaper.
Crackle the soul of death.
Piece together your misery.
Your pure heart lies softly within,
nestled.
Whirling through the wind
invisible strings
pulling life.
I looked at snapshots
From a bygone day
Were things as great
As people like to say
Everything picture perfect
Clothing and smile
Captured by the camera
These pictures in my pile
There is my old self
With a knowing look
The memories flood back
Like pages from a book
As I keep flipping
My tears make me shake
Taking this look back
What a huge mistake
So back in the box
To the rear of the shelf
Hidden but not forgotten
Still a part of myself
I have seen something and the something saw
a me, a scarecrow, stuffed with straw
in half with claims to more. The something’s not
into onlookers. A well done, a taut,
a plausible, I thought I looked alive
but the insightful something said: «A chive
can’t kill the stink of death». So ever since
I have been thinking what the something means
and what it meant…
Don’t see some things up close
if your vocation is to scare crows.
Cough and splutter in a crowded room.
A juke-box is playing another dreary tune.
Lonely man feeds a bandit spending next week's rent
Woman sits at bar smothered in make-up and scent.
Young men at pool table in torn and holey jeans
Are shouting in unison about favourite football teams.
Soon elephants are pink leprechauns are green,
Unreality is the truth that we have seen.
Cold cold beer brings on the confusion
It's the outside world that is now an illusion.
This is a sort of parody. Based on a Moody Blues section on one of their albums. Think it was just before or after one of the songs. Called Late Lament. Thought I'd better credit it any way just in case anyone points it out.
Wake Up My Children! Wake Up!
A creature of many faces stalks you,
A human chameleon devoid of soul.
He hides not in the shadowy corner,
But among you, under the unwary eye.
Do not be fooled by this great pretender;
A white hat may adorn his head,
But blackness fills his vacant heart.
Be wise my children! Beware!
He's the crown prince of trickery.
He's the grand master of disguise.
This creature can masquerade in godly robes
while writhing painfully under their holiness.
Evil can spout prophetic words like a tribune
while the lie festers under his tongue.
He's a true disciple of the damned.
Wake up my children! Wake up!
Do not be mesmerized by this alluring creature.
With his apparent straight talk and honesty
He can make you a mindless believer.
But he's a liar and a charlatan.
He hides behind a wall of illusion,
Preying on the fears of the ignorant,
And captivating the ears of the innocent.
The doors are locked.
Abject darkness all around.
I long to see the opened door.
I swim in this pool of nakedness.
We have hope in all our solitude.
That we can survive alone in the wilderness.
In reality, our simple minds have no clue.
Sorrow does not care whether it is righteous.
I scorn all who offer their opinion.
I in my solitude, only, I have none to impress
If there was an impression of me,
Upon your cold soul - less empty heart.
Spineless and false you creep thru my thoughts.
Clarity comes from letting go of the falsity of life.
Kindred spirits know well of what I refer.
Does not the Divine not have compassion.
Now I will take leave of my innocents ripped bare .
We make our own ignorance prevailed upon us.
Making us think we can survive alone in time.
Even alone we go on justifying our acts.
Those of us who are blessed in childhood.
Bring down a bit of heaven with us, I believe.
Childhood itself is scarcely more then a thought.
Of old age , pleasing illusions covered in mist.
It's raining in my soul, raining on a dead soul.
Rain is grace, there would be no life without rain.
In the darkness of the night , I see him there watching.
It's death again, absent from body, always on the clock.
Every time I pull the blinds , I spy him there in the trees.
Always there , always watching for us at deaths door.
Back to dust we return to Him, out of body, the spirit.
Returns to God, the one who gave it, life !!!
9:30am Tues. 3/ 5/ 2013
She floated on the outer edges of life.
The dreams that landed at her doorstep.
We're all but gone.
And then everything went back to the
way, it was before she came along.
As she floated on death's door.
When it opened, she would pass through.
For this life, as we all know.
Is but a learning tool.
March 5, 2016, 12noon
Religion puts souls high in lights
Evolution cuts down these rites
Relation to ape
On the species landscape
Dynamites man's sites on the heights