Long Delusions Poems
Long Delusions Poems. Below are the most popular long Delusions by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Delusions poems by poem length and keyword.
Please don’t ask me about the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
It’s easy to talk about the things that were simply not fun.
Or the delusions that peppered my life for a short time.
But when I left my only hope for independence, it felt like a crime.
When they locked me up, I was scared to go home.
I hoped they’d keep me in these flickering hallways to forever roam.
So I could be the ghost I feel I am.
I can’t trade today’s sanity for tomorrow’s hope, like I wish I can.
Along with me, my family left their expectations behind.
It was all my choice to leave a future that is kind.
I will let my future float like the wind out of these bars-
So that all I am allowed to do is watch the happy families pass by in their cars.
silken threads bind
the tree of life,
skeins of hope
tying all
deep into the soul
of the earth
but,
the dirt trembles and shakes
big minds wander
the lost halls of learning
they go where others
dare not tread,
risking all
with each step
tremendous machines
chew through the skin
of the planet
ripping and shredding
the life out of Gaia,
she is dying
a day at a time
Great leaders in denial
lead their people
towards a precipice,
all the time
their eyes are closed
hoping like fools
their delusions
aren't their downfall
like lemmings
a blinded society
technologically
numbed
are blinkered,
the mountains
begin to tumble
as the rivers
ease their flow
the grass browns
as the days burn hot
killing the elderly
sickening the child,
the air burns throats
and lungs
as industry
churns out poison
waters run with blood
buildings fall
into the chasm
all the while the answer
lies within
a seed of hope
is carried in the atoms
that hold us all together,
wind the silken thread
around this pearl
saving all that ever was
I'm an ashen dove,
fading in zephyr
of wine valleys,
saturating in fog
upon enchanting hills,
draped in
grape-green silk,
where fantasies of forest,
sprout cynthia moon
of a bygone
medieval saga,
amidst heavenly
eventides,
and wailing weeds
prick my shadow,
infusing iced intentions
of the puppet's paradise~
floating in islets
of shackled bones.
My wings are
made of violet wool,
fluffed with
blueberry cotton
and stitched
with the fabric of
amethyst satin,
but as soon as
my tiptoeing feet
touch the
seafoam grass,
it stings my silent
glacial flight,
making me bleed
in chloroform-
dipped letters.
If love was a
rosy matte comet,
I would carve
pastel orchid smiles
amidst kismet-coated
cherry blossoms,
with frozen floral paints
and forgive
beige betrayals
of aqua sirens,
to which the
scents of evermore,
sweetly succumbed.
But maybe,
jasper tinted
jasmine petals,
are sewn with
poisoned thistles
whilst being
dispersed upon
the chambers of
midnight raindrops,
and those
soulful stars
in your eyes are
a mere mirage,
flourishing
false silhouettes of
a perfumed
saudade in
nocturnal negligence.
So, pardon these
bleeding metaphors
that echo sombre
sun's soliloquy in the
hazy kiss of gloom
and follow me
to the teal towers,
where this
fluorescent flesh
slumbers in enfolded
spruce leaves of
sequoia sonnets.
For, when the last petal
falls as poetry,
my soul would be
alive in wistful runes,
mourning in a
doleful decanter,
whilst eyes
would frown
in fragile promises,
wiping diplomatic
dust of dolent delusions
and knitting mists of
manipulations,
carelessly sinking~
to soil of feathered
dandelions.
Where nurtured seeds
of jade reflections,
still haven't ruptured
every pixie dust of hope,
in their life's
dormant decession,
reminisce me
as an ivory moonrise,
fluttering beyond,
dahlia chains of sunshine.
In alleys devoid of light;
the beggars sleep on the street.
And fear arrives late at night;
to feed upon their defeat.
Delusions exchanged for lies,
they panhandle in the park.
And tears trickle from sad eyes;
watching hunger carve its mark.
Drugs ease their physical pain,
but their sanity's in doubt.
For their monsters can't be slain;
on the fringes of burnout.
Scrounging in torn dungarees,
they confront brutality.
And fragmented memories,
are lost to reality.
As hypocrisy walks by,
the beggars barely survive.
And if broken wings can't fly,
can they ever feel alive?
The Devil's Dead Roses
A prelude to the Bete Noire
Please stop Please stop
Don't look at my face
Please stop Please stop
Don't look at my face.
- Every time you see what I see
- Every time you see what I see
So precious
Disgusting taste
Back handed smile plays
Your devious face
So lost without me
Looking down without grace
Masquerade - You dance high
"So Great"
And the needle's laced
The Blood of Christ
In my hands
Understand! Understand!!
Still you laugh through me in sin
These cravings
So thirsty
Me first please
ME FIRST PLEASE!!!
I'm fiending
So lasting this laughing
It's fancy, us dancing
Delusions in envy
Pornographic Fantastic
Your eyes bleed
So frightening
My flesh disappearing
Your lies scream
You hate me
"I HATE YOU I HATE YOU"
So blinding
My eyes sting
Left silent Sick violence
We play for today
"My little prey come this way"
Separate from peace
A pornographic feast
And this poison that you're spitting on my flesh
And this poison that you're spitting is so fresh
And this poison that you spit
Is coming at me
It's all coming at me
And up my spine
Such wicked chills Diluted in envy
"TAKE OFF YOUR FUQQING MASK!!!"
Why you coming at me
Why me
Why me
Why you coming at me
Naked hand in hand
Sends wicked chills
And up my spine
Twisted little thrills
"How Divine!!?"
Delusions
A blind dream
I'm finding YOU WATCHING
You HATE ME
This hate thing
"I HATE DREAMS"
"I HATE DREAMS"
"I HATE DREAMS"
"I HATE DREAMS"
"I HATE DREAMS"
"I HATE DREAMS"
"I HATE DREAMS"
Your mask is so frightening
Back handed smile
A little guile
So sick
Looking in at your grin
When you stick me
"You fuqqing win"
So I just laugh and I laugh
And I sing and I laugh
And I dance and I laugh
And I laugh and I laugh
And a couple more drinks
And a couple more drinks ...
How perfidious is it to hide,
not to be found and be recognized
for the values not revealed
but shamefully being cast aside?
How deplorable is it to renounce existing,
refusing the crown of meekness,
a life of peaceful days, of a lesser complicity
and accept the glory of vanity...
when feelings of betrail resurge, contesting
the perception of loss beyond credibility?
Does one choose loneliness so voraciously sought,
that retreat from a squalid existence that fate brought
to a secluded place that lacks colors and sounds
allowing horrid darkness to descend upon defeats,
blocking out the brilliance and blighting the thoughts
of a mind in search of solitude and self-awareness?
How pathetic us to turn
into a lurking shadow
to conceal the frown of scorn,
the angry look of hurt...
rejecting soothing comfort,
accepting horrid sorrow!
Do all have the same principles of idiocy
and follow a deceiving voice
swerving them from reason...
does it offer delusions that attempt treason?
How strong is their effect on honesty;
how will it coordinate with their choice?
Dissect is a no-nonsense word, meaning to cut up, to cut open, to examine in detail. My first recalled encounter with dissecting took place in my high school biology class where we dissected a frog. That was more than 50 years ago, and I suspect that frog dissecting is no longer allowed. But a reexamination( a dissecting) of The Declaration of Independence is providing me an even greater appreciation for the determination of our forefathers to be liberated and free at all cost.
Were I to fully dissect the Declaration of Independence there would be multiple parts of the examination. I will, therefore, be brief in exploring a few noteworthy aspects of the declaration.
In as much as their belief in equality was limited and selective, let it suffice to say that 'equality beliefs' was a work in progress. But there can be no denial, history revisionists notwithstanding, that they were firm in their beliefs about Truth, Creator, Supreme Judge, God-Entitlements, and Divine Endowments.
243 years ago, thirteen colonies represented by 54 men declared their independence from Great Britain, the most powerful nation on earth. They had very little military power but were energized with purpose and unity. Clearly, the weapons of their warfare were not carnal but mighty through God. They were neither fearless nor fools but very courageous.
They had no illusions of grandeur nor delusions of haloes, but their cause was just, their pursuit was righteous, and their reliance and dependency were upon The Supreme Judge of the world. With a trusting heart full of steam, never impeded by things they did not comprehend, impelled by a cause,
and pushing forward full speed ahead, they were 'all in'. There was no doubt about their commitment as expressed in their own words in the last sentence, "And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor".
06282019cj
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
When manic, I feel, think, and speak like God:
like Superman (or the world’s savior)!
The rush from feeling like a demi-god
makes me believe I am a conqueror,
like another Alexander the Great!
So when I’m flung to the abyss of hell
when these erratic moods abruptly abate,
I rapidly cycle so that I can't tell
the bottomless and profound lows that turn
these immortal, Olympian, speed-like highs
into abject spiritual dead-ends; I learn
that (as this disorder intensifies)
delusions of real grandeur soon grow tempting,
especially when life feels not worth living.
A liars lie is to say you lie
paint themselves a real nice guy
Not the people that know them well
but all the others they go and tell
It’s done as a preemptive strike
spreading rumours of what you’re like
They can’t tell the lies from real life
and when you talk it don’t sound right
Twisted truth and so two faced
want the world to hear their case
how hard they try to help a fake
but they can’t and get headaches
One day once they had a problem
truth and lie were both an option
they chose to lie it became often
now they lie and nothing stops them
Full commitment to the cause
Ignorance towards the flaws
they even give them self applause
think the world is full of fools
They sign up for the football team
and appear in the team pictures
but every week they lie again
through injury not featured
very quickly injury free
when trophies are in reach
pride collecting their trophy
so cringe worthy to see
What the hell is a medal worth
when you ain’t put in any work
or maybe it’s somehow deserved
effort made saying you are hurt
Anyhow their lying now
saying you’re someone they doubt
making sure they bring you down
so they’re left alone standing proud
They will give you a weakness
one opposite to their strengths
run you down for failing like this
their skill you’re up against
So in their head they can beat you
they make it up as they need too
forgetting telling someone you know
talking lies that clearly show
You don’t behave the way they say
you just don’t operate that way
it is isn’t you they put on display
So don’t believe a word they say
but liars think their lie has worked
even when they lie the worst
it’s their skill and it’s their worth
they speak and all believe what’s heard
They call it delusions of grandeur
Self absorbed and out to slander
done to gain the upper hander
think they are the grand commander
Shocks them hard being found out
they stick to lies without doubt
it means that they can’t be found
they deserve a roundhouse
You can con yourself
that no one is aware
until you’ve no one else
with nobody who cares.