Long Hallucination Poems
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Every night I close my eyes,
loneliness suffocates my soul.
I rapidly escape through a portal of dreams,
where we once met with a passionate embrace.
In your arms I felt alive,
but dreams fade away like stars afraid of dawn.
Loneliness returns with its gloomy silence,
yet again, I am absorbed in cloudy days.
I remain alone, intoxicated in your thoughts,
But I yearn to be found, like an undiscovered treasure.
I want to be touched, to be adored.
My heart yearns to smile once more,
laugh from my soul, feel alive,
dancing on clouds, our stepping stones to heaven.
I want just you.
I recall, how the mysteries of the universe,
bonded our souls to ignite lost flames.
Vibrant embers floating from star to star,
how stardust glittered in your hair.
Naked moon shone through your eyes -
as the galaxy admired us drifting nonchalantly.
In horizon's black shroud,
you were a masterpiece of magnification.
Subtle artistry of your touch,
seduced silent stars to sigh.
But as each star faded away,
Jealous sun stole you from me.
In my breathless ambiguity,
I ponder if you were a hallucination or fantasy -
only my lover in distant dreams.
Now the beat of my heart is out of tune,
in the absence of my sacred beloved.
Yet, I still feel you inside me.
I curse the necessities of reality,
searching for my spiritual lover.
Close my eyes, to sleep for eternity -
seeking that alternative phenomenon.
Where romance and love reside in a never ending story.
Silent One collaboration with Akkina Downing
3 November 2020
Akkina and I wrote this last night. Akkina, is a great poet who has not posted for two years, because she was bullied! I wanted to encourage her to write again and post her wonderful poems.
Please encourage her by visiting her page:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poems_by_poet.aspx?ID=81129
Thank you
The sun was newly risen above the Earth
his heated smile warmed amber desert sands.
The grand landscape resembled barren lands
as sepia grains were slathered by rippling waves
That's what I would see through blurred vision,
the hallucination of turquoise rivers in a mirage
The Sea of Dunes was tinted in maple honey tones
but bore no trace of boat, of oar, nor whale bones
It held no aqua fathoms of unmeasurable depth
and its ripples were not waves washing to the shore
Not one leviathan leapt at me from pages of lore
No lush oasis to be found in illusion before my eyes,
nor cool stream to quench my weary traveler's thirst
These Eastern dunes held no date palms for a feast
nor shade from which my life could be reimbursed
or gulls seeking herring, for I heard no hungry cries
Here, the moon did not control the ebb and flow
No tides except those guided by Mariah's breath
Her harsh winds blow without a wit of warning,
and scorpions do not fear drowning in an undertow
No sailor's widow need weep in weeds of mourning
In vast hummocks of golden glimmering sand
would I find myself living sorrowfully chagrinned
Lost and confused while the sun burned my skin
Circling the shores of this scorched desert sea
Parched, 'til death chooses to steal life from me
A friend once said to me in the most underweighted way he could have used this truth
which made it carry even more weight if you can believe that, maybe you had to be there
either way let me go ahead and share this little gem i wouldn't want to be uncouth
"Today's expectations are tomorrows resentments" Yea it hit me hard to, i sware
Now i have heard some good ones and keep them in my pocket for the right occasion
cause words have no weight unless you speak them in the right order at the right time
so that the hallucination it invokes resonates with the moment in time the kind of delivery that
receives a standing ovation
it doesn't have to be parable or rhyme, but it helps if its catchy but its ok if it's not a chime
the goal is to inspire wisdom through short meme like quips
which is especially relevant in today's 30 second of clip world
Its rare a actual deep conversation on a single subject doesn't slip
into the rabbit hole where a table sits and hot tea is poured
Truth is not the point today only what readers can weave into their ideas
willing to make a stand on misinformation because the abundance of lies
that the internet shows truth can be whatever you want to believe and say it is
I mean it can't accept alternative facts the most unwise ever spoken, truth dies
Are expectation to be right and find truth on are computers is great now
the resentment will come if people ever take the time or get the intelligence to see the scam
a country where the president's words can change the Dow and insider trading is allowed
among politicians and no one seems to notice or give a damn
So i still say The problem with the world today is to many belief-based facts
not enough fact-based beliefs
maybe i am just throwing pearls when acorns will do.
but a man can dream
though it might cost him his life if tells it to anyone
I can still hear the echo of bells tolling its dirge.
As I sat on my rocking chair in the semi-darkness.
Outside as if in defiance the moon shone brightly
Illuminating my room through the large bay windows.
I felt tired, eyelids half closed, but sleep eluded me.
The night was calm as few clouds flitted on the breeze.
There on a shining stratocumulus, was my wife,
Was she waving at me? It couldn’t actually be.
Must be some hallucination, for she quickly disappeared
Like some gentle ghost into a supreme sweet spot,
Where only absolute celestial happiness could exist.
Suddenly darkness engulfed the bay and infiltrated my room.
A far away deadly laughter echoed in my abode.
And in the dim light, I saw a black widow spider
Deadly crawling slowly towards my emaciated body.
Let death take its toll, I cared not as I grieved.
But life could play tricks even in dire situations.
The spider cared not where it was expecting to be,
And as the rocking chair continued its monotonous swing,
It crashed the spider under one of its wooden curved bands.
I uttered some choice mutterings for death was not mine.
But the soft deadly laughter continued, tapering into nothingness.
Was this a dream? I knew not. Only life can tell.
FICTION
The evil ant bit my foot
stung so bad in pain,
Squeezed the bite
Head felt light
Though really can’t complain…
It spared my life
I carried on
Hence here I live to tell-
The evil ant bit my foot;
Made me feel unwell!
Am glad the evil ant ran off;
so I could treat my wound,
Squeezed around it very hard
Swear words ‘someone’ tuned.
Thank heavens I survived it;
you know- the bite from hell?!
The evil ant bit my foot;
Then it waved farewell !
Good riddance evil devil ant
Good riddance with a hop.
Still throbbing comes and goes with ache,
Just now my foot went flop.
Perhaps you were a cross breed,
A spider, wasp and snake.
Perhaps you waited, instigated
Planned to make me shake.
It’s OK now, I’ll be alright,
Times past.. shrank inflammation .
Oh dear a giant evil ant,
Wait, that’s hallucination.
Poisoned me that evil ant,
Toxic shock and trauma.
Someone call the hospital,
Before I am a goner.
‘The evil ant bit my foot’ to doctor I complained
‘We’ll fix that, we’ll chop it off’
Then there was no pain.
Insanity or Death
Life begins with insanity~~
~Your soul is kicking and screaming,
Ready to exit with the touch of human hands.
Insanity rides on a gallant stallion ready to pant.
Hides in the mind, mourning its captive soul.
Ready to breach over holding its breath.
Projecting in and out without a guide.
Bites away at the feast, enchants for freedom.
From the lips……….....
Taking length against a world of dilemmas,
Contrasting to a never happy end.
The epidermis cover every wall of insanity.
To live, to eat, and to suffocate it determination without air.
Dramatically hallucination against its will of no wells.
Until it realizes it can drink without water.
No further needs a slumber.
The mind-bends and unfolds to ordinary jolts,
When left to human consummation.
Insincerely bidding and cutting to die in the sleep.
Is how it pleads!
Graves where dreams have no meaning.
Caves where goodness can be redeemed.
A temple of misguided fortune.
All respect lost to this infection,
The patients’ weight distracted from an antidote.
The madness begins too finds admiration-
That makes catastrophe go on and on.
The psychosis of the mind and mockeries of them will never be gone
Dictating in everything wrong,
Layers of cramped bricks, level the isolation.
Death drags its feet off into this infinite helix world.
A source of light breeding out of darkness.
"Sanity is no friend of mine!"
Insanity is earth herself,
Where there is life, there is a reason,
Where there is reason, there is madness,
Where there is madness, there you are,
Feeling nothing………………...
Lost in darkness................
~Your soul is kicking and screaming
Life ends with death~~
(first I feared life, now I fear death)
Written: December 05, 2023
__________________________________________
Earth's mysteries—swirling in the sky.
Heaven is comely with lemon meringue.
Vaporizing clouds are dulcet and colored.
Cinnamon light was shed on my shoulders.
Peering onto the horizon of a waning sun.
Beethoven and Mozart split into the ether.
Ruby tangos fuchsia in an outburst of ecstasy.
Fetching hues of elixir flash and flare.
Obsidian clouds yield a rumble of thunder.
Cumulus clouds coal-colored clusters.
In erratic black seas, akin to rogue boats.
Thunderclaps imbue a shiny sheen.
A cyan-blue sky casts her limbs outward.
Soaring saffron butterflies and kites.
A cloud of endorphins shrouds the world.
Amid raucous mirth and glamor lullabies.
The sky's evocative color palette.
sparked by the effervescent moonlight.
delightful days laced with zeal and zest
amid a kaleidoscope hallucination.
Awake I lie my thoughts a meandering hallucination of colours and words
The wind the one who woke me talks through the trees
Begging the rain to continue its assault on my imagination
Is that footsteps I hear in the dead of the night
Voices of ancient souls who only want my ears
They creep and crawl through my mind
I have never felt so alive the inhabitants of the world around me sleep
Recharging for another onslaught on the dwindling earth
But the wind reminds me the earth will reclaim its soul nature will prevail
In the dead of the night
The onslaught continues and the wind rushing through the trees talks of the
Disappointment in the guardian's of earth.
Hailstones are sent crashing down reinforcing the need to be heard
And I feel at peace in the dead of the night.
Unending lines, vast voids, shapes
meddle with my mind
and ghost an odd geometry,
the same that sometimes
twitch when a sudden waking
decapitates a dream.
Time dilates or shrinks
to a tiny dot pulling all
into its orbit then ruptures
into a rainbow, each strand
of color winding tighter
and tighter around my head.
It's the sense
of not being able to fit back
into the space where I belong,
when I become either too small
or too big or somehow
utterly change in shape.
Such disorientation lingers,
never quite forming into a coherent
thought but floats the boundaries
like a mist clouding
the fevered brain of a child who,
emerging from hallucination,
cannot give form to the terror.
A part of me remains there
held in the thick webs of a dream,
at times breaking through the surface
of sleep into where my waking mind
holds me, fearful,
frothed in the real.
Note.
This poem takes “geometric nightmares
and/or dreams” as its subject. I have had
these most of my life and what I once thought to be rare are apparently experienced by many.
The poem probably won't make much sense without having a little knowledge
of the phenomenon. Almost impossible to
describe the dream experience in words
and the residual distortions that linger
after waking.
In the labyrinth of my thoughts, an uninterrupted flow of whispers and shadows,
I awaken a prisoner in a crystal cage, built from prejudices and expectations,
And the bars are forged from the invisible threads of our cultural programming,
Which bind us like puppets in a spectacle of collective illusions.
I step on paths of clouds, through the dense fog of common consciousness,
Where each step is a revelation and a question without an answer,
And around me dance phantoms of social conventions,
Like smoke butterflies in a garden of perpetual deceptions.
Culture, a mass hallucination, a veil woven from threads of silk and steel,
Covers our eyes and whispers stories about who we are and who we should be,
And we, docile, dress in clothes tailored by others, forgetting our true skin,
And dance to the rhythm of a music we didn't choose, but call our own.
But sometimes, in the moments of silence between heartbeats,
I hear the call of a world beyond the borders of this collective illusion,
And I feel the cracking of the egg of reality in which we were incubated,
Allowing rays of light to penetrate from an unknown and intimidating universe.
Stepping out of this hallucination, with trembling steps and blinded eyes,
I discover a world cruel in its sincerity, but free from masks and pretenses,
Where each thought is a falling star in the night of my consciousness,
And each choice is a newborn universe, full of infinite possibilities.
And in this moment of awakening, of painful and liberating illumination,
I understand the value of this raw reality, unfiltered through the lenses of culture,
A reality in which we are all actors and spectators, creators and creations,
In a cosmic dance of self-discovery and authentic connection.
Now, standing on the edge of the abyss between illusion and truth,
I feel the melancholy of losing innocence and the comfort of ignorance,
But also the infinite magic of possibilities that open before me,
In a world where we are free to write our own stories, beyond the cages of the mind.