Long Disillusions Poems
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The thought of losing someone is hard to bear,
But holding on only brings more despair.
Hopes and dreams turn into disillusions,
Bringing on deep depression, along with seclusion.
Despite the pain, the heart fights to stay alive,
Because the absence is killing anything left inside.
No hope remains, no reasons to care.
Feeling beat down and crying out in despair.
But no one's listening, theres not anyone there.
Just you and your thoughts with no room to spare.
Lost in the moments you shared throughout time.
Leaving only a piece of you when they left you behind.
This kind of pain is selfish and only felt firsthand.
As empathy can’t feel what the hurt apprehends.
Soon the loss reaches a subtle peak,
where illusions proceed for the sake of the grief.
Finding solace in tears that's now your new home.
Only discovering peace by being alone.
When I failed Him – I couldn’t tell Him
How dark the dread was, how painful the doubt,
How the color black fell over my feelings
And even in the light I couldn’t see the gentleness
Through the clouds, the discouragement
When I lost my hope and I just couldn’t cope
I couldn’t understand that He was still there with me,
Reassuring my heart, even in the dark – comforting
Calming, through the worry and anxiety, past
The feelings that haunted and taunted me, the fury
That seemed to echo through my mind and thoughts,
Erasing joy and filling me up with mistrust to destroy
Every promise, every dream, every feeling of grace
Beauty became a memory, fleeting and bleeding
Through the colors, hues of compassion,
Everlasting peace and surrender to the intimacy
Tenderness that trembled with faith, with
Warmth that felt like home to me, silencing my
Tears, easing my fears – stirring the music,
The mystery, the belief that stills every uneasiness
When I didn’t know how to believe and even
The elation was so far from the praise, the worship
That honored Him with my lips – yet never
Bled through the despair, the grief, the dishonesty
A heart without joy – a heart without hope
Because I had a heart that had failed to find love
In a world He came to save, a world that is lost
Amid skepticism and mistrust, among the questions
Unspoken by lips who never mouth a prayer
Lips who never remember – He is always there
He is with me – even when I fail to love and adore,
Even when I neglect prayer and praise,
Even when I disappoint Him with my bitterness
Or give Him so many reasons to give up on me –
He is with me – even when I can’t believe He is
He is with me when I don’t feel His presence there
He is with me when I can’t find a way to silence
The doubts, the confusion, the dreadful disillusions
He is with me – through every dark night of the soul,
He makes a way out of the shadows, the murky
World where I go when I feel so lost and alone
He is with me and I know – when I praise Him
With my heart and my soul, He breathes warmth
Into the shimmering from a Son who lights the world
With a fire that becomes my heart’s one desire –
This love that is His glorious gift, His grace – His peace
The blessing of His presence – forever – He is with me!
They say, all good things must end,
the pains afflicting;
why is love so ephemeral?
why do all good things disappear?
the grief burns yet here;
beating heart torments the soul so;
I may never understand or see;
what you wanted from me;
my love sentimental disillusions;
Don't grieve for me this intrusion;
darkness plagues the soul;
I'll hold your hand for always, you said I'm whole;
I mourn for your stare O God...
SADLY
Now, I am only a dream and your eternal heir
7/20/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019 ©
Written for project North Omaha Writer’s Group assignment 2019©
I met a Hippie walking down the street.
She had long hair, big eyes.
Wide-bottomed trousers, orange-red,
Covered in an intricate pattern
Of strange designs, flapped round her feet
And from her shoulders over a flowered blouse
Hung a black satin something
With bright green frills on the edges.
From her neck dangled to her breast an emblem
In a circle – a unity of Love and Peace.
I passed by her and she glanced up.
I smiled...she smiled...and we moved on.
A smile can work wonders.
The couch and chairs were empty
And we sat comfortably on the carpet.
The candle threw an eerie light
Which came to nought in the depths
Of the room’s shadowy corners.
An odour of incense drifted around us
And a distorted candle flame
Was reflected in my cup of coffee.
We spoke of art, painting and poetry
Treading on the romantic,
Passing through hazes of religion:
A mixture of love, knowledge and mystery,
Probing into the eluding outlets of LSD,
The restful release of meditation,
The yearning of youth, disillusions of life,
The roots of joy and depression,
The understanding of oneself.
Smoke rose in bluish transparency.
The ring on her finger was big and it glimmered;
She opened a poetry book at random
And began reading from Tagore.
I was silent. Her voice was soft.
And when she stopped we said not a word.
There was no need – we both understood.
--------------------------------------------------------
Contest: Any Poem#22
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Placing: 4th
The fading ancient sun casts long shadows before me,
as I shuffle slowly and sluggishly down asymmetrical lanes.
How age mellows me like ripe watermelon, squeezing me
until all my ambrosial juices run acidulously dry as dust.
Unsatisfied desire, mental torment and general malaise
conquer my better moods of love, devotion and quietude.
Straggling with widespread dishevelment and disillusions
I try in vain to set an orderly pattern to my straying aims,
hoping some guardian angel were to take my shaking hands
to lead me onwards steadily towards some well defined goal.
Mark my furrowed forehead, tap solidly at my potential energy
fill my withering wrinkles with some sense or empirical reasoning,
but at least give me one essential gift, that a grumbler I'll never be.
The force of the righteous is full of the misguided, a forsaken realm to which we're never invited. The gullible minds of weakness, led by their own obliqueness. "Take your children (Psalms) and thrash them about the sharp edged rocks"...Thus is one of the many reasons that I continually put forward these endless mocks. I can't believe that an all loving, all forgiving gOD cast down the suicide self, As well as the innocent smited children are molested, accused and abused torturers women, and those with mental health. Justified in disguise the light is not as holy as it seems. Consider them monstrous like the most horrific of dreams. They need to pay for their mistakes and quit using our souls as the stakes. Stop the infection, expel falsehood's, refuse the lie, accept it's contradiction and reject the reposed. Religions built on scriptures, with words that are 96% fictitious and written by man then juxtaposed. Fu*k me! I will not believe that the victims of the depressed and self-sufferers are to be condemned. All the while the predators and the profaned are running around free and 'forgiven', no I refuse to pretend. I will not lend a hand nor accept this malevolence as benevolence. Mine eyes cannot live inside this disbelief or believe and accept a King James version full on pretense. I could never have my own faith in this creation gOD, who is more evil than that of those so called "Satanist". When you lay down the holy and unholy bibles... The laws, the sins, the rules side by side. You to will be aghast that the supposed wicked have true morality, character, and pride in which to abide. Devastated that our lives are denied by dreams and disillusions, Some where in time we were misled straight into misinterpreted confusions.
My head is ringing every day,
with all the words I need to say.
All I ever think is rhyme,
happens to me all the time!
I’m finding rhymes in all I see,
I’m in a matrix of poetry!
Am I mad I have to vent?
My disillusions, my discontent.
Then again, an upbeat theme,
so many topics I want to scream!
I’ll even write about a snail
or come to that my big toe nail.
My wife asks what I’d like for lunch,
I reply ‘something with a punch’
‘You’re off again for goodness sake!’
but it was a perfectly innocent mistake.
Is every poet just the same?
We play this idiotic game,
where everything we ever think,
we have no choice but to ink.
In the labyrinth of memories, their steps dance gracefully through narrow corridors,
Silent echoes of untouched hearts, intertwined with the thin thread of experience,
Their eyes - crystalline mirrors reflecting a universe not yet fully explored,
Their laughter - a cascade of hopes pouring over ungnawed rocks of doubt.
Souls untouched by the storms of disappointment, rose petals still undisturbed,
In their walk I see the unwritten story of loves waiting to bloom,
Their gaze - an open window to unknown horizons, untainted by shadows,
The gentleness of their hearts - a bright lighthouse in the dark night of disillusions.
But alas! There, in the distance, I glimpse the silhouettes of those wounded by bitter experiences,
Heavy steps, burdened by the weight of the past, their eyes - deep wells of melancholy,
Their laughter - a distant echo of joys lost in the whirlwind of time,
Their hearts - fortresses built with stones of suffering and mortar of distrust.
Their next choice - a poisoned arrow dipped in the bile of revenge,
No longer seeking love, but victory in a war of broken hearts,
And I wander through this world of contrasts, seeking lost purity,
Dreaming of the woman who still believes in the magic of first untainted love.
Oh, my soul, do not judge, but understand these hearts so different,
For each carries within itself a unique story, a universe of experiences and hopes,
And you, poet of unspoken words, sing of love in all its forms,
For in the end, we are all travelers on the same path of the heart.
And the cemetery was the final rest place for the souls
That departed from Earth with unsolved matters
Leaving their tombs at midnight, wandering without
A determined route in the valley of the forgotten
Sad histories had been told about the invisible inhabitants
Of the land where rest the hopes, dreams and illusions that
Died with the dreamer. Unborn babies are watched by angels
Teens that perished in their youth years by temerary behavior
Ladies that took their own lives by romantic disillusions, young men
Killed by illegal substances or guns traffic, family massacred by
A disturbed relative, lovers that murder and committed suicide
After an affair breakup, unknown for their partners until the fatal news
Reflex while in this existence if are living life in a manner when
Arrives the time to leave this world, no remorses or guilts
Are left behind, tormenting the soul as unfinished business
Good deeds and memories should be the legacy
For And The Cemetery Was Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
Fourth Place
5-21-2016
You were the one kept me up all night
always made me feel so right
times have changed
I won't play your waiting game
you were unkind if you'd only see
willing to blame it all on me
those days are gone
now I know where I went wrong
you were my all if you only knew
I was ready to bet everything on you
times aren't the same
I won't make that mistake again
don't need more disappointments
no unhappy endings
no more disillusions
or broken heart that needs mending
you were so cruel made a fool of me
it was you who set me free
time moves on
now I know where I belong
and you're like a ghost to me now
ever since we've been apart
haunting the hallways
of this empty house I call my heart