Illusion Poems - Poems about Illusion

The fakification of modern life Is almost complete As AI and disinformation Crowd out the real and true. If you didn’t see and do it How can you even trust It ever happened Or at least how they say. Like the old Emperor and his new robes But in reverse Now it’s the old calling out the lies While the young just accept the illusion. To the...

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Truth be told, or is it so, Is strength bronze or tin? Forever mystery lies so, In this transcended kin. Beneath the rust, a fragile heart, Iron weeps, its strength apart. A veil of secrets, shadows loom, Where truth’s enigma finds its tomb. In fragile echoes, whispers call, Uncertainty befalls, thoughts of chanciness. As ready minds begin to fall, A second thought of unsureness. Though some say...

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Charisma of a champion Strength of a Mount Olympus deity Superstar hero larger than life A fanclub like no other A base of faithful devotees buying into the showman's dream the illusion the fantasy ...

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Its elasticity is in fact a mystery ~ while time is free to flee as quick as lightning sometimes it drags on for lengths of eternity. And for all our hankering and longing that time would move according to our wishes, it's never anything but a fool's machination. While youth is just a memory away ~ the magician waves his wand, and without...

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The illusion  In a small park ringed by gloomy trees near where the factories used to be, was the bust of a man on a splint made of bronze, a mesen, she liked to use words like that in a desperate world of poverty, tinned sardines  in olive oil and mackerel in tomato sauce The Mesen who owned the factories...

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I hear again and again, of people searching for what is real, Looking for the answers that they seek is like climbing up a hill. Their truth and their authentic self, they seldom if ever will find, If all they do is listen to others and never use their mind. Based on the things I’ve seen and heard;...

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Should a man dare to look within? Search secret places of hidden sin? The lack of which could be exhilarating, But those long loss, debilitating. Even those revealed can be a gift, Confession, forgiveness, they could give a lift. Or an insight into his authenticity, Could open his eyes that he might see. Through the illusion, that’s led him astray, Guiding him back to...

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Please tell me it’s summer every day of the year. Please tell me that Aerosmith plays from the sky. Please tell me that heaven’s a basketball court. Please tell me that everyone’s life has a point. Please tell me that no one is ever alone. Please tell me that dying is easily explained. Please tell me that broken birds get back...

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Pain Life can sometimes be happy. Really? Oh, positive thinking and proactivity! But this is an illusion only. Self-deception Happiness is the shadow of suffering This is the reality. Nothing else. That’s it ...

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All a mirage, an aberrant illusion acceptance in America professionally, socially we even became sought-after marriage partners… Educated people seemed...

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“is life an illusion?” ... As a young kid, loved the magical illusion... With every flick of the hand, a world unfolds, Mysteries hidden in stories told, Where wonder reigns and logic defies, In the heart of magic, the illusion lies. As a grown-up kid, illusion took over thoughts .... In a world where...

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i lowered my guard and let you in a child-man disappointing me at every turn i'm fuming under my hat half afraid of an explosion one step forward two steps back how easy it is to close my eyes and pretend everything's alright a balancing act when in fact we are at opposite ends of the spectrum have i become someone who settles or are my...

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Why be concerned with transparency People are blind, they really can’t see With distortion and illusion in the word today And bias and lies in what people say Just be who you are, one of a kind The truth will totally blow their mind They’ll be so confused trying to figure you out Their miscalculations will still leave them doubt They’ll still try...

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The magician wore my mother’s perfume and conjured family from thin air— a brother renamed uncle, a wife recast as mother, a daughter vanishing behind a tale of bees. Each sleight of hand was tender— a hush, a smile, a bowl of soup cooling on the Formica while the truth was sawed in half and tucked beneath the linoleum. No one told me why my “uncle”...

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I said I knew him— like the sea knows the moon, drawn, pulled, dancing tides to his rhythm. I traced constellations in the freckles on his back, wrote sonnets on the way he stirred his coffee, knew his heartbeat like a song I was born with. I could name the sound his silence made, the way his right eye twitched when he...

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