Best Reality Poems
Real as a ruby dawn twinkling on morning dew
Tiptoeing in splendorous view, enticing anew
Golden smile of sun sparkling on skyline blue,
An imprint of my love, so beauteous and true
This moment that woos, this moment’s all you.
Let me save it from vagrant vagaries of mind,
Protect it from withering in seasons unkind,
Treasuring benevolence its eloquence defined
This moment of mine at the peak of its prime
Let me grab it before it takes the shape of time.
When its journey on wings of love had just begun
Oh! how seductively its tender passions spun
Clues of romance from rhythms of your heart
Rejoicing musings our indulgent souls impart
Imploring fondly to never let this moment depart.
Dwell not in the yesteryears that passed us by,
Let the halo of its aura revive gleam in your eyes
Enticing you to be mine, this moment is sublime,
Oh, how in its realm, dreams and reality rhyme!
Let me grab it before it takes the shape of time.
Written: June 15, 2021
Submitted on December 14, 2022 to:
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23 Poetry Contest
Poem of the day on June 16,2021
Placed 1st: All yours (June 17) by Brian Strand
charcoal grey horizon~
on the rusty cast iron bench
my old self sits in pensive mood
beside the lake beneath December sky
the wayward wind as it teases my hair
whispers melodies from long ago~
that breath echo in the air
the echo reverberates ~
weaving fragments into vivid voices
and symphonies of yesteryears
my grandma's lullaby
our high-school graduation song
then tender laughters
of children at play fill the air
then comes the echo
of my father's sobbing voice
as he handed me to my groom
on that Saturday afternoon
whilst the organist played
the Wedding March by Mendelssohn
as the echo fades
and turns tenebrous twilight
into enchanting ebony evening
I look around ~
the coffee shop behind me
inviting for another cup
whilst the coffee on my lap
gets colder and colder
yet not as cold as the winter chill
perching inside of me
Soul progress
back field in motion
The guff
Chose, chose, live grow leave! GO!
Leapt from heaven's gold
Jump started into a human mold
White clapboard poverty with tiger lily blooms,
blueberry rake poverty woolen looms.
Riffs of Emerson, Whitman, Longfellow dawns,
mothers’ hazel eyes, father Davidesque form,
chosen to drive twixt a Jew and a screw.
Magnet of lunacy...
Tumbled like an agate into the stream of life
part of the dream lesson
scream lesson
Abuser of power, one who had once roared,
Eve shaped now, weak and mewling
between the weeds of woe.
Care taken by lovers torn.
Watched over by pedophile uncles.
Befriended by lewd Father of sons.
Adult child, searching amongst the Word
for the Word is God and GOD …
There are so many words
Root ripped scenes from beauty to horror
Shiksa* taunts seep in with the smell of borsch.
A pumpkinseed amongst the pricks of Brooklyn
A wild rose planted in the asphalt soil
Doo-wop ditty
Jew’s bop to a Dago harmony,
bagels, bialys and the French twisted strands
of great grandma’s hair.
Clipped, stripped of family shoved whole
into yet another new mold.
True believers, ah yes, fanatics all.
The struggle to survive whole healthy
dipped in, dripped in, a bath of acid and thorazine.
Polish priests pedal platitudes to the sisters of St. Joseph
behind the gilded glory of the Church.
Raped by trust and betrayed by lovers,
a rose married to a prickles thorn,
so empathy is gained, and a healer born.
Metal must be formed in a crucible of fire
A healer can not be born without tasting the pyre.
I walk above all pain
risen and relentless
floating on borrowed air oblivious
This heart is impervious fortress, like stonewall embattlements
...that lie is twisted around every bitter past and hollow present
Meandering useless, wander and watch
Romances ebbing, flowing, flying, crashing...dead
Envy circles about my head
longer away, further removed...and lonely
This heart is porous Swiss, like wine-tasting afterthoughts
...that truth is a hulking shadow looming disproportionate
engulfing any new light on unseen horizons
Only wishing she might see and understand
My hot and cold passion platters served accordingly
apprehensive only in love's pursuits
timid like bullied school children cowering in corners
Brash and outspoken otherwise...shackled when it may matter
This heart is neglected farmland, like wartorn meadows
...that reality inhibits every bright angle of my soul
suffocating the man you would love...if you knew
A black stone with diamonds inside
She shines but you would never know
They hit her but she never falls
They whip her but she never breaks
Speed in her step even though they try to slow her down
Make her fail, just so that they can beat her down
Again and again
But they never get the chance
They tell her she's property
Meant to be owned
Planting plants that their too lazy to grow
In their eyes she's just a cotton-picker
But she knows better than to believe their foolish words
Black as night
But bright as a star
Hard as a diamond
Hard to break
Locked in a concrete box
That's hard to take!
She writes with passion
In the shadows
Hidden from her captures
Writing the truth of her sufferings
Sometimes writing away the reality of her captivity
White clouds surrounding her
Caving in
Watching her every move
So clear but so dark and evil at the same time
She barely wants to move
But she doesn't have a choice
She writes with her heart
Not with her head
Writing is her release
Reading is her consumption
Breathing out then slowly inhaling each and every word
Falling deeper into someone else’s life and wishing it was her own
That’s why she started writing
To create a new reality for herself
Envisioning a world of peace
Released from the cage that she has been confined to
But the cruel world that she has been cursed with by God
Creeps its way up to her neck
Taking hold of any freedom that she had created for herself
In those so few minutes alone
Pulling her from her slumber
Stripping her of her innocents
Marking her with fire
Crippling her into ashes
Making her realize that there is no way out of this alive
She can only pray for that last day to come sooner
The morning sun taking her out of her trans, making her sufferings all the more relevant
What should I say to describe this empty feeling,
like I'm missing something I could call Home.
How would I come to deny a thought revealing,
given time and place, I'd invent my own.
A time spent in a state of agonizing pain,
A place of worship I would not forgive.
Only the mind undoes the past through vision gained,
in boundless timeless Love it all but lives.
My heart skips a few beats
before I realize that I’m not breathing.
Am I dying? I ask myself
but there is no response
Is this the end?
I close my eyes
It feels so much like falling
much like suffocating
much like nothing
I don’t know what’s going on around me
all I know is that I just felt a breath leave me
my eyes fly open and see the people around me
My heart must be beating
I don’t know if this is a reality
or if I’m dreaming
All I know is I hear screaming
Then I realize
It’s coming from me
Out of my lungs
Through my mouth
Out into the already intoxicated air
Evaporating everything
I don’t know if this is a reality
Or if I’m dreaming
the things you both see
you all see
is merely a continuity safeguard
one of the laws written in to prevent chaos
we can't have multiple lifeforms occupying the same space all seeing and experiencing something different
it just wouldn't work
so we've set impulses to align where and whenever possible
sure as hell easier when you lot are on your own
takes a heap of pressure off the system
that way we suspend everyone else
they're not needed
you don't surely think they're individually living do you
no, just on hold, paused
until you're no longer on your own
then we have our work cut out again
and many coffees go cold
Good Sense Of Humour Blunts The Sharp Blades Of Reality Poetry
Contest //Sponsored by: Natasha L. Scragg
( 2nd Place )
Written: August 5, 2025
When life threw me a curveball,
I stumbled—then chuckled mid-fall.
Lumped knees, not pride, I wore like bent,
because sneering is something I've seen.
In chemo rooms and vestibules,
I frenzied dry jokes on aseptic walls.
Doctors simpered, nurses would beam—
a punch-line where the fear had been.
When agony thumped hard and sleep grew thin,
I let the silly light writhe in.
A meme, a whirl , a silly song—
made aching days feel less so long.
No, humour incurable or patch,
But it's the ally, not made to part.
It doesn't silence, hurt or truth,
but let me smirk with my aching tooth.
So here's my laugh, though life gushes beneath,
it's how I rise, not how I lament!
If you look for me you will not see
Because I exist in probabilities.
To truly understand what is me
You must think of other realities.
My mind is like a dangerous neighborhood
I try to never go there alone.
I thought that after all this time Id finally grown.
I met a spark that kindled my fire
How quickly it expired.
Enrapturing me in my sleep.
It burned so deep
It burned so deep.
Whispers of wonders invading my perception
Turns out it was self-deception.
I longed to continue in this delusion
But in the end it would be spiritual pollution.
How do I mend what I have done?
The separation has begun,
But the face of an angel lingers in my brain
I never meant to cause any pain.
If I could jump out of my skin and start again
Wisdom would have kept him as a friend..
If only he could have come to my side
Happily we would forever abide.
But reality is a dark hole
And a bleeding soul
A vacant hole
Where many travelers never go.
Once again its chill creeps down my spine
And I release the one I had to leave behind.
By: Sabina Nicole
I hate my deeds &
everbody hates me
It's a fact and I know it
I am a burden so heavy
I am a curse so dark
I am a person , i'hv bones
Not just a reason to
throw stones
Dedication
The world falls apart.
The world is your hands stretched when
Something within me is a rock worth climbing.
When the reality is worth inhaling.
When the Moon cuts the sanity with its light.
I cannot quit.
I wish I could.
I cannot quit.
I wish I could.
I cannot depict what’s going on.
I wish I could.
We fit perfectly
like fire and black soil,
like disaster and silence,
like pain and victory,
like solemn July nights
and gruesome routine.
I wish I could find shelter
and conceal my haughtiness from the past,
our questions revealing the dark side of being,
our routes unknown.
In my life’s equation
you are thorn, silk and embers.
There is more to dedication than mere events.
I cannot quit.
I wish I could.
Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2016
Starting to question
if reality is real
Society seated in a medicine cabinet
so nobody has to feel
The world has convinced the truth to lie
Manufactured tears produced
so no one has to cry
Everyone banking off yesterday's credit
so nobody has to go out and try
Walking plastic seems to be fine
Cowards choosing surgery
to put in a spine
I stay real and continue to live
You sold out
and refused to give
Having loved ones is an incredibly comforting feeling, but when you enter the vast
landscape of the mind and see only depression and despair, you become aware
that you are alone in your misery. Clinging to the last threads of sanity It feels as if
you are spiraling into a bottomless black abyss.
All sense of responsibility, joy, hope, drive, ambition and any concern for life are
gone like a whisp of smoke. There is no comfort offered when looking deeply into
who you are. Everything that you once held dear seems so pointless in the eternal
perspective of time. There is no escape from the futility of it all. Will I make a
difference or at least be a descent human being. If I do, what difference will it
make. Countless times have I looked into the never ending realm of insanity and
longed to leap into its welcoming arms. I can think of no greater blessing than to
lose one's capacity for self awareness.
Would I fall for all eternity or through the destructive force of madness find
normalcy. It all seems so hopeless. Some say life passes so fast that you should
cherish every moment. But, living out the drudgery of each day seems an eternity to
me. If I focus hard enough my minds eye sees exactly who I am. I have a self
loathing, over burdened, depressingly active, mentally challenged, sarcastic, twisted
thinking process. Process usually indicates order. Not in my case. My mind plumets
into a cold unfeeling wasteland that sends me into fearful fits of confusion where I
am overwhelmed with unrelenting incomparable anger. I ponder an escape , but I
realize I am destined to wallow in the company of despair and futility for all eternity
and deservedly so. Then it finally dawns on me that through my foolish decisions
and self destructive actions I have fulfilled my mission in life to be a stench filled
mass of human waste. I grieve for those who know the loneliness I feel when
journeying into the depths of the seemingly twisted internal machinations of my
mind. It is the only place that in all respects you are truly alone. I no of no other
place where hopelessness reigns as it does in the deep recesses of who I am. It
makes me wonder if I might be God's only mistake.