Mirage Poems - Poems about Mirage

I write my ‘i’s differently now —your letters etched themselves into my blood I eat everything with chili that burning sting is close enough to your kiss I abandoned the blade. You’d be proud— though only because we meet every night, dream or not Why do you haunt me, why? but still, I tail behind your cherry mirage Lost in this desert, I crawl beneath...

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I wake to the desert, talking to the wind; its voice is dry and muffled. Sand cuts my skin as I walk; nowhere feels like a place I belong to. The seeming figs glow like a distant fire. My feet are melting with every step I take. I lose my balance when I stride; I am surprised as the light darkens me. Flames...

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MIRAGE OF CLARITY ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In the side view mirror of the U-Haul, my familiar world slips away, the verdant green hills of North Texas, lush and breathing, their whispers fading into dust. We roll into the heart of the Permian Basin, the lushness surrendering to the parched expanse. Flat is the land—yellow, ochre and brown; the sagebrush and mesquite, stoic in...

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sand blistering hot throat parched I need water ah an oasis where could it have went it just upped and disappeared it was a mirage ...

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Ravaged by the sandstorm of time, future crumbles in debris on the dwindling dunes of despair. In the dust of dereliction, I find you fervently morphed into the mirage of memory. ...

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I never said I was sane. I didn’t claim perfection no, I lean more towards distain. Compare, internalize, never share. Crazy, imperfect thoughts run everywhere but never straight. They don’t play the sane part long enough to call fun, so I can enjoy a day without feeling emotionally imprisoned. Sanity is not a noun that...

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She flickers in the glass— a glitch of golden déjà vu, The paint strokes—bright, wild yellow, but no warmth leak through. I sometimes reach for her dimming leaves that hum against my skin then disappear. I pull back and smell ash, when nothing’s charred. There were twelve petals yesterday, now, only eleven. I wake up and count again. Still eleven, or maybe none. (I’m not sure if...

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Forgive me, childhood, sweet mirage of lost time, When I ran through fields with dreams tied to the blue sky, There was a time when I believed your days were endless, But the desire to grow up blinded me with its deceptive brilliance. I was naive and didn't realize that every moment is a gift, I wanted to embrace the...

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In a sea of time, seeking happiness like a mirage dancing on the horizon, people confess their desire like a secret, like a confession in the night, and in their words hides a trembling of the soul, a shadow of bitterness, because happiness becomes a project, a fragile construction of dreams, an endless quest, like a journey to a...

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Shock! unreal, unshaken disbelief. Choice! the people spoke, democracy breathes. What was promised— a mirage, a lie. False hopes built to divide, now shattered, leaving many wide-eyed, denied, unrecognized, lost in the wreckage of the unexpected. Post 2-0-2-4 A reckoning. A trauma. A truth too sharp to ignore. ...

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I smiled when I saw The figure in front I ran to get close But only hugged smoke...

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all phantom landscape delirium that is made a fleeting false truth ...

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It is her body by God, so they say, But by man and by rite, she belongs to him. The contract, black and white swirls, binding, signed in ink that bleeds into chains. He takes her as he pleases. The decision is not hers to make. Face buried, held by the ringed hand, pressed into the pillow to smother resistance. His knees split...

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Is the distinction between science and philosophy nothing but illusion Affirming what it wouldst certainly and firmly most deny Proponents of formulaic truth require a defense against critique judgment unrelenting as their proof is self-inured Science thus infallible because its findings are collective Their community not disposed to answer questions they will — never ask (Amtrak R5- February, 2025) ...

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Joy’s like dewdrops on lotus leaf If you know not life’s subtle brief. It’s dawn if I open eyes, If not, a darkling night, The wise whose sun would not rise, There reigns enduring blight All along, life of buts and if, Joy’s like dewdrops on lotus leaf. Life’s echo spreads no far Like haply chirping birds, As footsteps on sands are, As on...

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