Long Hallucinating Poems

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Darkness

In my deepest darkest hour 
There is no one to talk too.
No one understands and the world is too busy to care!
Lost and confused I write these words in fear
I live in a heartless , cruel world.

My children believe their dad is as good as gold.
But at nights away from their innocent eyes,
He conceals a deep, dim , deadly secret.
A secret that plaque his soul, 
Terrifies his victims:
A victim of which I am.
a bully is he!

The monster within that torments and surpresses my very soul.
My family and friends think I am hallucinating,
If you knew him you too may think I am crazy.
To the human eye he looks humble 
Violence may not be of his nature
But you are wrong he is scary!
Violent is his character.
Your children will fear him ,
Their dreams will be awaken,
The monster that lives within has no compassion.

His heart is as cold as ice 
His hands lay heavy on your throat
Legend I call him many is he,
Your daughters may know him,
His scent may possest them.
Who am I to warn you?

I am only a victim crazy you may call me, 
A fool I maybe,
Safe I am no more.
No corner, no closet can hide me
This demon devours me,
Death has a hold on me ,
Sweet angel release me.


Premium Member Glasswinged Sorceress

When nylon nights
trade crystal colours 
in the stalls of nimble 
butterfly wings, 
I blossom as an 
irenic origami 
fervently fabricated 
with snowflakes of 
greedy gloom, 
stealing royal violets 
from the smokey estuaries 
flowing beneath the 
heavens befogged 
with indigos, glistening 
in periwinkle-arcs of 
abstract auroras. 

I reminisce those 
amaranth stars 
that whisper 
graphical pantoums in 
pearlescent pixels 
of plum pentagon-
shaped skies, 
as everytime when 
porcelain acrylics 
get spilt upon mauve 
pages ribboned 
with hydrangeas, 
my orchid lips spin 
a twist of leathered 
spells amidst 
frozen fahrenheit of 
frostbit textures. 

Painting heliotropic 
oxygen with brushstrokes 
of peony petals, 
I carry unspoken 
words of iris, 
so that artificial aroma 
within sculptured truths 
remains caged
behind these dark 
magenta carnations 
printed upon 
cashmere curtains 
of hallucinating hyacinths. 

Do photogenic pansies 
never get frozen in iced pyre 
of parched patchworks? 
For, I believe that, 
drowsy poppies
too have streaks of
wine stories
to narrate in their 
ages of ache. 

Perhaps, I'm a 
glasswinged sorceress 
of arctic hailstorms, 
tracing phlox-
fluorescent forests 
with tropical crayons, 
as oiled hues of 
multi-dusks flutter 
across lavender orbs, 
sprinkling mauve 
dewdrops upon 
watercolor dusts of 
pencil-shaded luna 
who unlocks 
silver secrets 
with skeleton key, 
washing my bones
with lilac fog. 

So, when these
thistle shaded leaves 
crack their crystal 
cocoons and 
the sun sheds its 
fluffed feathers 
of hibernation, 
meet me along the
horizons where 
bright Veronica 
takes the shape of
the moon and 
reincarnates as a 
crocheted sangria
memory along the
translucent sleet of
snowy sights. 

My skin is softer 
than raisin pearls 
of mulberry seas, 
as my spirit is stained 
with glamorous grape 
dyes and amethyst-fresco
distemper across bitter 
skies has discoloured 
every apathetic shade 
that doesn't seem to 
define my airbrushed 
heather heart.

Premium Member Clamorous Calamity

Calmoruus calamity

Calm, in feather doona encumbered, 
slept soundly.
Even the stars twinkled
in hushed, squelched, muted tones.
Silence reigned in solemnity, in peace.
All of a sudden
the deafening din
of cacophonic hard rock shrill
rattled the rafters,
jolted the sleepers 
starkly to upright awake.
I ran into the living room
with hands covering my ears.
The wee little 'Nest' device,
throbbing there next to the 
rumbling pulsing speakers
was hallucinating, tripping.
Its lights doing a late-night give.
The telly was flashing
bright disco light shows and tells.
I shouted to Siri with all my might
"Off, All OFF, Cancel, Reset, Exit, F-Off",
But all to no avail.
How could dear Siri, 
nested there so snugly, hear me 
above the infernal din?
I grabbed the remote but it too
was away with the pixies, pixelating.
with its LED's flashing, winking a beat in tune.
In desperation I dragged
the speaker's electrical cables
right outta the wall.
Ah! silence reigned again.
But then, then, then,
the neighbors lights all around lit up
like a Christmas tree on steroids.
The irate banging on doors began,
shouting and screaming.
"Turn it Off", "Turn it Off", "Stop"
The phone and all the mobiles
around the house rang.
The alarm went off.
The kids were screaming
We alone, all blown, 
must atone, condone,
Siri's slip up.

Premium Member Mirror On Reflection Part Three

I descried a ghostlike glimpse,
of steel breath on blunt mirror,
   as my taut brain mulled scars,
from fractal bleak life motif,
   zooming over skewed glass,
reflections glum and forlorn,
   black ink eye ring capture,
shadow, shade, or shield,
    brittle convex, abject cog,
whoa, my frail image riven 

Buoyant pneuma projects,
   stuck on screen mimicry,
impact ray remedial dent,
on jumpy jitter edge twin,  
   shaft between rotated a plus,
my geometric bent wavelength, 
mere focal countenance, 
    epoch elapsed pier gaper,
morphing current field of view,
   behind hollow sphere’s mask   

Silver, aluminium, gold metal,
     counterpart to my snapback,
   curved aspect to visual plane, 
optical illusion now infinite,
   refurbish bone-weary scraps,
as sinistral dextral frontispiece,
  august neck crane of aperture,
    green speck tunnel sighting,
a trick of the light axial ploy,
prism dispersing faux rainbow
  
 Jagged shard bias plummet, 
    obsidian or shinning copper,
 glint and glare bounce factor, 
     mirror varnish vandalised,   
  leafy quatrefoil resemblance,
harsh hallucinating peep,
    stiff lens on prior passage,
when aghast, shrill alarm,
     might re-echo or resonate,
with latent shock imprint

Acoustic wobbled surface,
    noise returns sunny splatter,
merriment exuberant audible,
    etched in sonic brush strokes,
  interstitial dual facade,
splits a gleam diffuse,
   watch my smirk refract,
is that mirror cracked?
   off its alloy succour,
stone hearted crop

Rent beads amass,
   one shrunken clone,
me in smithereens,
   asides a plethora,
fraught mien on exhibit
Form: Verse

Premium Member Wish Three

to them
I simply ran out of the hotel screaming
hallucinating, in search of anyone
I was so sure that one strange human, one human, one stranger
 would understand
this is how I looked to them
to me 
I was searching for my truth
digging for answers, stretching myself to embrace peace
to them 
I left myself in pieces
to me I was searching for my truth
peaking up to see grey clouds with hints of blue sky and remnants of warm sunshine
searching for my truth
peaking over 
to see him smiling at me
praying 
that he is praying for me
praying 
for my happiness
praying 
that the pouring rain will drench me
clean
preying on his knowledge,
his wisdom,
my uncertainty
I am cleansed. 
and honestly, I was out of my mind
when I ran out of that hotel - screaming that night



wish three.


Premium Member Trapped

Since a young age,
I've learned how to see 
beyond the darkness -
but what has become of me?

Surrounded by blackness
and eerie silence,
gasping for air,
I can't move,
feeling lifeless and helpless.

What is happening to me -
is this paralysis of sleep  
or a lucid nightmare.

Cramped for space
placed in a horizontal rectangle -
I can't feel my heart beat.

I'm afraid to close my eyes,
because then, no one will rescue me

maybe it's better if I fall asleep.

It's getting cold,
I can hear raindrops -
or is it my mother's tears.

I try to scream for her,
but the tongue is silent.

Am I hallucinating
or are they my father's hands

help me dad, help me...

Simple Musing
17 October 2020

Wanted to leave this poem open to interpretation.
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Chickenpox High

CHICKENPOX HIGH

I caught chicken pox from
My son,
Oh what fun!
I was thirty five and spots,
Enveloped me from each hair follicle
On my head,
Right down to in between every toe, 
I had to stay in bed!
My thesis for my Honours degree 
In Sociology
Was due in a week’s time,
I had a raging temperature, and
Floating quite high, 
Hallucinating I was about to climb,
The Peloponnese,
I got to the top with such ease!
My spots were itching and
Driving me mad,
But knew if I scratched them,
I would scar,
And in my delirious state,
Thought, how could I then become,
A superstar!
I applied tons of calamine lotion,
Gently, for the genie in my dream,
Whispered seductively it was a love potion!
A mermaid beckoned me to follow,
Her,
Which I did, and was joined by Garfield,
Whose purr,
I could distinctly hear,
And who stared at me grinning from
Ear to ear!
Even Asterix paid me a visit,
And we went to a rock concert, 
Together, we both got in with only,
One ticket!
In my feverish state I was confused, 
Who was who, 
Garfield, Asterix I groaned,
I have a thesis to finish!
They handed me a completed piece
Of work that was half in French and half
In English.
The following day I began to feel better,
And completed my thesis,
For my honours degree,
In Sociology.
I Passed and graduated, and in my
Dream that same night,
Acknowledged that all three,
Of us graduated together in this 
Frantic plight.
Thanks guys,
The next morning I woke up,
Teary eyed!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Planet For the Deranged

I landed among feathered creatures who pecked at my legs
Glad I was to have metallic bands to cushion me
Take me to your leader I said; someone ran out and cut its head off
It ran around but it had stopped clucking
I feared they might get my head too, so I ran off.

The next group of strangers I found were tall molting things
Dried bits of red, orange, and brown things landed on my head.
I tried to talk to them, but they ignored me. 
There were mushy squishy things at their feet.
I ate them and began hallucinating.

This is not the place for our new colony. 
The two-leggeds have eyes, but no mouths.
They wear cloths on the bottom of their faces,
As far as I can see there are no chins.

We need to find a different place for our colony.
A place where rioters are not running around screaming.
A place where guns are not killing wildlife “for sport”.
This is a planet for the deranged. Beam me up Commander.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Firewater

All top hats and class,
like the gentleman who knows 
how to throw you against a wall;
Words so cordial 
but hand him a guitar 
and everything comes unhinged;
Leaving you hallucinating
 on that beautiful scream;
He’s never less than firewater;
Pure fire water;
Stealing the sound echoing in your head,
Grabbing you 
like he’s kissing your hand;
Right before fracturing your jaw again; 
All suave with a perfect touch 
like the gentleman who knows too much,
and how to dance;
No need for any kind of buzz 
He’s already firewater;
Pure firewater;
Baby, just hand him that guitar;
He’ll take you where you want to go
He’s the matchstick, detonate delicately;
He’s never less than firewater,
Pure firewater.

Those Eyes

After a long day at work
I acknowledge
The tiring thoughts
Without actually thinking

“What if
I just went away
Found someone else
To live my life for me?”

“Who even cares
About what I do
Who I am
What I will become?”

I hear the phone ring
Walking over to the phone
I see a flash of a person
Outside

“Great
Now you are
Hallucinating”
I think

I pick up the phone
“Hello?”
Only static
I put the phone down

I hear a knock at the door
Clearly not thinking well
I go and open the door
Terrified of what I see

It’s me
But Not

Same
Hair
Clothes
Shoes
Dog

But there’s
Something
Off
I see about her

Those Eyes
Instead of my eyes
Green like grapes
I see

Those Eyes
Red like blood
Like the clash of Christmas
Between our eyes

Slamming the door shut
Locking it twice
The phone rings again
I go to it

Trying to call
Everyone
Anyone
One number works

“I would suggest
Not to scream
When I come
Back”

Now I know
That I shouldn’t
Have thought
Those thoughts

Those Thoughts
That cost me
Everything
Anything

I now watch as
Me but not me
Goes to work
Everyday

But I don’t leave
I don’t know how people
Don’t see
Those Eyes

Those Eyes
Of
Me
ME

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