Best Illusory Poems
Silently you keep tempting me to give in
But your tale of easy life I don't believe,
Though I lack interest in your help for me
I 'm humbled deeply by your almighty reach.
I know you exist somewhere out there
While so many are chasing you everywhere.
Why you keep my company I'll never know
For I don't intend to reside in your shadow.
You set the rules like you own my world,
Don't think I play hard to win your favor.
If you want to blame my game when I lose
Don't take all the credit every time I win.
You choose to strike in your random ways
For there is no logic to which way you sway.
Sometimes you find rich and make it richer
Yet, you continue to ignore places that hurt.
Known to change your mind without reason
Your grandiose tease I find quite illusory.
I will win my own way, and wait my turn
For I'm unwilling to wager on you my luck.
February 7, 2018
Placed first in December 2018 contest by Brian Strand
In an illusory vision, I perceive the moon
High aloft the world in midnight's pitch,
polished to a satiny sheen; burnished pearl,
a solitaire gem mounted in celestial skies
surrounded by multi-faceted diamonds,
myriads of gleaming stars before my eyes.
its called entrapment; when your lips say no but your eyes are illusory
©120720161434
:
they say that all places are the same:
the drought the sertao is on the face of an old grandfather
spring on the butterfly's wing
all snow is kilimanjaro,
every tower is Eiffel, every fog is london
all heat is volcano,
all rain comes in mars
and comes from Rio de Janeiro,
all light is Paris
all the world is the same
live the same way,
dying is the same...
if life is like this
I don't know what exists is
must be just story
because most things
I didn't live...
so it can't be all the same
everywhere... !
The birds all around tell her
it's just an illusion.
There is no diamond;
there is no charming prince
imprisoned in
the body of this dove.
Partially blinded by the
gorgeous mask,
but roughly reminded
of an assignment due
this Friday,
she reaches out
with her mind to
record every little
detail in this illusion.
This will be the first
chapter of her novel -
the next best seller.
The muse has spoken.
Inspired by image from Google:
http://wall.alphacoders.com/wallpaper.php?i=88851
June 23, 2013
Am I now destined to remain
in this cold realm that binds me here?
Can I not flee this dark domain
or make reality appear?
Strange illusory vagaries
distort my thoughts and crowd my mind.
Foul evil spreads her vile disease
scorching my eyes to make me blind.
This lurid illusory realm
attempts to now extract my soul.
I cannot let it overwhelm
or lose my mind to its control.
Must I now travel back in time
to change the timeline that exists?
Can I expunge this paradigm
to shake delusions that persist?
I must not let time seal my fate
and keep me here to die this way
but travel to a former date
and put an end to my dismay.
Illusory truth you cut through me;
'Be Kind.'
Doesn't seem to get you where you should be;
Humankind wastes away surrounded
plastic words discarded into a serene ocean;
Polluting the environment;
Reused, recycled, but never reduced;
Still we try;
Cordial behavior fades from memory
washed away by the waves; Toxic stays;
Muddy are our interactions now;
We cry out our illusory truth 'Be Kind.'
u play the part of death so well
The drama queen - welcome to home sweet hell
Ring a bell
Yeah I know your tell
Succubus nocturnal always on the make
Far too nefarious to suffer a mistake
Dressed to thrill, eyes that will
Priceless, will never be left to pay the bill
Anywhere you go there is an unmistakable chill.
You want it all and you want the rest
Too much ain't enough
And you will mesmerize and terrorize until you've had your fill
Just another Vampiress fable of fallacy
Tarnishing the reputation of the mystical and mysterious
Vampire elite.
With your enchanting dominance, and daunting, veiled ominous
How can you be so ruthless and without conscious
Sucking in then spitting out
Just you-you-you, and that's all you care about
Smiling secrets, telling lies, breaking lives, and pretending to cry
Capable but unable to exist with regal, shadowy stealth..
Poor little vivacious vixen
Pouting and brooding is your only fight
Using and abusing yet claiming everyone is ganging up on you
So STOP! cuz you're so sensitive
Yeah - PSYCHE!
This otherworldly life is so tragic
You can't see the magic
So back you will go, to your coffin in the tomb
And go ahead hold onto what never was
While sadly for you this is the END
Of your NEVERAGAIN.....
If I write fire, I get cold
if I write cold, I get burned
poetic illusion I write...
So many paths
Reflecting on broken mirror of certainty
Someone asks- who is poetry?
Reply comes- God!
Whining- what is poet?
Mumbling- to know the nothingness!
Original is always pronounced unseen
The vowel is influential with consonant
Consonant carries a shaped with the unshaped
Who and what is truth?
Neither vowel nor consonant!
Neither poetry nor poet!
Sliding on so many paths
Wrong and meaningless the truth is
if have nothing in the Shape!
Illusory hotchpotch!
27.07.2020 Chattogram
ILLUSORY LOVE
From the fake inmost heart
Their came vain promises
Raising the hope of a lover
Restless with emotions
Of love for a bloody liar and hypocrite
Never knew it's full of deceit
An Ijeoma Ikonne's poem © 2021
Landscapes
Out there are illusion..
Yet whether considered
Illusion or not
Beauty is declared..
No-separation seems to
Prevail...
Is it truly death they fear, or the unraveling of their illusory self-importance,
as they tread through existence, erecting fragile monoliths of their ephemeral legacy,
believing their names will resonate through ages, as if permanence were a divine gift,
a privilege born not of vanity, but of an illusion of eternity that never ends,
watching as each moment turns into thin stone, losing its luster.
Yet history erodes with precision, turning emperors into mere footnotes,
scholars become misattributed quotes, lost in the wind of forgetting that erases their mark,
and if the architects of civilizations succumb to oblivion, mere ephemeral mortals, why do they think they are spared?
Why do they believe the thread of the narrative depends on their presence, that without them, time would stop,
that the world would unravel in the absence of a fleeting presence, dissolving like a dream?
Do they fear death or the harsh realization that they were never essential,
that their existence was just a faint echo in a vast and indifferent universe,
where stars extinguish and are reborn without caring for our fragile stories,
in the stream of consciousness, their monoliths of vanity crumble into absolute silence,
as if their entire significance were just a shadow in an endless dance.
A shadow among thousands of shadows in the dance of time, which swallows everything without blinking,
and thus, perhaps the true fear is not in the last breath, but in the silence that follows,
in the quiet that no longer whispers their names, in the eternity that continues without noticing them,
only with the wind erasing footprints on the merciless and unforgiving sands of time,
where only the echoes of unfulfilled dreams remain to haunt the sky with lost memories.
Sea of illusion
Beloved one is glitzy gold
Love story lives unfold
© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
15/09/21