Long Illusion Poems
Long Illusion Poems. Below are the most popular long Illusion by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Illusion poems by poem length and keyword.
Leaves ruffled against their branches
Tingling my senses to a state of delight
Flowers swayed, seeming to be engaged in a dance
With the many beats of my heart
Tiny land creatures hovered around
As if spying upon me and my many intakes of breath
Why, the chills of the summer night
Are soul arousing
Facing me is a most calm sea
One in which dolphins enjoy their existence
And mermaids appear to have me immersed in fantasy
Pray,
Faced with it all
I wish, simply wish
That life could be as I wanted it to be
That I could simply sing my way through it
And dance lazily to its many tunes
Or that I could easily win at all its games
And even write of its many poems
And enact its romantic stories!
But then, the wind rose up and tossed in my face
The bitter truth of my existence
Life is just a façade
An illusion made to look like a fairy tale
Fallen are the souls treading its walks
Pray,
Best it is to give all that is good in me
To help those in need
And of course
Best it is to help life toil hard
At keeping herself as she is!
Pray,
The winds have lied not
Life, if she was real
Would have allowed me to be, forever
But I am to face Death
And meet with the unknown
So best it is
To close my eyes and pretend
That I am not enchanted by the summer night!
When will that deafening silence stop
When will the gnawing craving disappear
And the pointless waiting stop
Is it a crime to have loved
Must I pay for having given freely
Must I be punished for having believed
Must I do time for having been so naïve
I was whole I felt great I thought I had it all
Then I met you
And that was the beginning of the end
Now I feel empty lost and in pain
If time heals it doesn’t heal fast enough
And all for a few precious superficial moments
For a short ride on the sea of illusion
AP: 1st place 2022
Submitted on April 30, 2018 for contest FREE VERSE ON LOVE (NEW POEM) sponsored by LAURA LOO - RANKED 3RD
In a dream I saw myself in a bright room, sitting and writing down a poem
The experience was temporary; I soon returned to a normal frame of mind
I felt another presence besides myself, suddenly I was awoken by a loud hum
As I search in my head what was it I said, and wondering what I might find
I was sure about this vision I had, the humming noise? An oscillating dry fan
Feeling outside normal perception of space and time for a cold spell
I was the transient, the other conscious in a dream that seemed had no plan
In a waking state of consciousness still my soul is clouded, and here I dwell
No recollection or recognizing my true nature or of my ignorance
Unaccepting this illusion of life instead of its reality, certain that I must
not condemn me to suffering and deadly defiance,
I attempt to escape the life cycle of the universe, in this I trust
A life of austerity, devote myself to seeking knowledge
Unattach myself to any possession which result in greed
Achieving liberation by spirituality this I pledge
and eventually achieve a liberated state, indeed
I will not incriminate myself but become a good friend, a giver
And not search for another roadway another dead end
Time lapses, searching ends where the narrow road runs into a river
Flowing as one with a body of water, an experience to transcend
And if the microorganisms might be killed in every breath I’ve taken
by the immune system, discipline will be my task
When they call me lunatic when no finds of a scientific explanation
I’ll show that it is wise to keep and wear the surgical mask
The fundamental aim to perfect our soul essential, it took eons to rise above
Speak the truth if it is pleasant or remain silent if the truth is painfully lumen
All has a living soul in them, and all should be treated with respect and love
This can seem like a dream, and in my dreams, I am only human
An Illusion Of Words
A girl
No way to know her age
Her looks are years younger than her
Her mind smarter that her age
Her beauty is timeless among the ages
She sits and writes day after day
Places words in just the right place
She laughs at her ideas
She cries at how her writings play out
She is alone among a multitude of friends
Her thoughts jump between life and death
Love and hate
War and peace
No one knows how her mind works
It is only a guess to tell how she feels
She doesn’t want anyone to know her
She is a ghost walking among the living
A spirit that can only be held in the mind
And that is how she will stay
Just an illusion of words
The reflections of
your broken mirror
are more distorted
than you know
You wear your
true colors
on your sleeve
& they show who
you really are
I see your scars
& your pain
along with the regret
that hides with
your shame
Your feigned
indifference to the
pain you cause others
doesn't hide a thing
It brings your true
nature to the surface
automatically & not
in a casual way
Your purposeful acts
graphically illustrate
the self hate you
bury deep
What's on display?
That weak inner child
weeping & dying to be
heard so badly
that it screams
Lashing out
in attempts to be seen
only highlights your
recessive traits
Your aggressive verbs
define your pronoun
as it relates
to the whole
The hole you continue
to dig only gets deeper
but if that's the goal
kudos to you
What is that mirror
reflecting back?
Broken versions
of you
a truth that you
obviously don't see
If you did you'd
free yourself from the
illusion of what you think
you wanna be
If i see it
be sure that
others do as well
even if they don't show
or tell you
Could pray tell
these words be the
missing pieces
your broken mirror
wants to show you?
It’s all too easy
To reminisce and languish in memories
Our mind tricks us
Rose coloured filter
Applied to events past
Negatives replaced with positives
Significant details omitted
Facts artfully edited
Festooning flourishes added
The canvas reworked
The narrative nudged
Remembrance airbrushed
Our role as protagonist enhanced
So yesteryear reappears with fondness
Illuminated with a soft romantic glow
Enhancing all things past
Thus we yearn for a return
To an illusion of time long gone
If only we could focus
And expend the same mental energy
Creating a positive present
And a future filled with promise
Stop clinging to the ephemeral “good old days”
Make your today count every day
And invest energy wisely in your tomorrow
I was once a king in the empire of commerce,
a CEO crowned with gold not by wisdom,
but by the endless flow of numbers on a ledger.
My pockets were full, yet my heart —
a barren desert thirsting for rain.
The more I drank from the chalice of wealth,
the more parched my soul became;
money was seawater,
it promised relief,
yet deepened the ache of my thirst.
I believed riches would buy freedom,
but they purchased only fear,
a thousand sleepless nights,
and admiration that bent like reeds in the wind,
admiration bought — never earned.
I labored not for love of the craft,
but to keep the machine turning,
to feed the illusion,
to maintain a throne carved of fragile glass.
Even as I traveled the globe,
I saw the same masquerade:
value weighed not by virtue,
but by the weight of one’s vault.
Wealth had become theater,
its stage set with golden curtains.
The rich paraded as actors,
clothed in applause that was never real,
while the poor — seated in silence —
remained the unwilling audience.
And with all my riches, I was hollow.
Gold echoed louder than my own voice;
diamonds sparkled, yet darkened my soul.
I learned at last:
money cannot buy happiness,
it can only counterfeit its glow.
If respect may be purchased,
then respect itself is debased;
if honor bends to currency,
then honor is lost.
And so I saw the truth:
society has become a game,
its rules written by the rich,
its players trapped,
its meaning vanished.
The hunger for money —
a hunger that devours the man himself,
until nothing remains
but a shadow in a gilded cage.
To enter here is not to enter anywhere.
For time never was, and space was always illusion.
Thus to enter nowhere at no time
is to cross over into eternal always.
But where is this ‘Land of no Beginnings’?
Why can’t I find it?
It’s as though I could reach out with both hands;
pinch the fabric of spacetime, as in a dream.
I’ll tear it open this gashing psychic wound.
Unwrap my gift of timeless beauty.
What must end could only have begun.
Step through to forever be happy
in the land we never started.
I can’t go it alone.
You must come with me!
Only when you’re ready, of Course.
Hand in hand,
we’ll step through our tears together,
and forever be happy.
Walking together entwined in the garden
You whispered the tune of autumn breeze
Your enigmatic smile, the mirage of illusion
I thought sparkled in my stellar yearning.
When the northern wind started to blow
Your lips curled like wilted petal of flower
The diaphanous mystery mist shrouded you
So close by my side, yet you were so far.
As the spent sun set in my pallid twilight sky
I traced your footprints coming from the cold
Sought the warmth of your charred fire place
But in your dismal hearth I found no fire.
My vague sense of frozen belonging lingered
In the glacial crevice of your remote heart
I lighted array of thousand candles of desire
Tried to melt the ice, didn’t know if I could.
_____________
June 7, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
Gnarled branches reach to the Heavens
As if to strangle the life out of the stars in the sky
And moonlight splashes across a pristine lake
But there is no breeze so the surface is like glass
As if the Earth ripped out a patch of the sky
If something within yet lives
It would possibly be very terrifying
A beast with no eyes
Or a demon without feeling
In reality someone died there long ago
Forgotten by the pages of time
A lost and lonely soul
With no family or friends
Nobody to notice their disappearance
Nobody except for me
And branches snap underfoot
As I rest flowers next to the lake
Here in the middle of nowhere
The only sound I hear is my heartbeat
And my slow breathing
To break the Earth's illusion
I touch the surface of the lake
And watch the ripple spread widely
It's as the ripple slows to a stop
That I drop to my buttocks and think
This dead corpse wasn't forgotten
Not by me for a very good reason
The corpse is my depression
And every dark thought of suicide
Slain by righteous friendship
And a sense of hope
That the future will be better
Here in Bloodwood Hollow
I finally cast aside
The pain, sorrow, and angst
Among the lake and trees
I simply smile