Short Hallucination Poems
Short Hallucination Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hallucination by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hallucination by length and keyword.
Love
Loving
Longing
Living
Lying
Hope
Hopeing
Haggard
Hallucination
Harem
Faith
Forgiving
Failure
Fanting
Fair
Faithless
My perspective of immortality,
nothing to hide... just a wish,
a secret revealed...
An unconnected dream,
a pressing hallucination...
have a woman back
that was everything for me... !
They lied me back in bed,
cuffing me down.
They said it was all a dream,
a hallucination.
But I saw him.
I saw him standing at the door,
tall and dark.
He talked to me, he was real.
He loves me,
he's real.
I sat under an oak tree in fall
I must have fell asleep I recall
I awoke on a boat
with a frog in my throat
an elephant making a trunk call.
20/10/2017
Contest surreal and daft
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw.
Deeper he fell into the attention she gave him,
Only realizing he’d lose such a possession,
Her scarlet lips trembled in agony repeatedly,
Drowning in her love he didn’t want to be saved,
After all it was all a hallucination.
Form:
It’s just me in there.
Not smiling.
In the mirror,
A piece of glass which is not some passing phase.
A hallucination,
Which is continuous.
Blurring,
Crooked, and emotionless.
Mirrors are everywhere in this world.
Fantasy,
is the garment we wear
day by day...
dreams feed
the reality and we
free from common, strengthen
our reality...
the hallucination of
being clay hallucinates us,
but the reality of being
soul...
magnifies us, cheers us up...!
Sunlight tickles my eyes
Hypnagogic hallucinations steal the show
with surprise
A creature creeps
I gasp, in fascination’s glow
he leaps
He schemes
as toadstools blow
dreams
Sunlight tickles my eyes
I gasp, in fascination’s glow
dreams
Winter Morning - Dark, Dull ...
After a bohemian night ...
Dark, stupid - with reluctance to house ...
Odor of lime -
hallucination, alcohol delirium?!
Well yes - the first floor brews tea.
translation from Bulgarian: the author
Think metaphorically,
Everyday, said my mentor.
When a word becomes
a sentence,
It could be a good story.
A story is created
By imagination,
But fantasy is not.
Perhaps hallucination,
Driving directions,
To create something.
DBP-230116.
The knowledge that I am
is not.
Like an hallucination,
I am
nothing more than
a name --
a designation of something
that is
yet to be.
The future must unfold
all that
I become in later years.
For now,
I know not why,
or, perhaps,
even that I do
exist....
It was bought to my attention
I had a rather odd reflection
When I gave my explanation
There was an order of investigation
It seems my tales of alien penentration
Surely bought lots of speculation
Was it all from hallucination
Or just my wicked imagination
I shought a beam
And u gave light sockdolager
glare of full brightness
And gave a magic thunder
how the donative tolerate
Alaborate aura
Hallucination of miraj
And garando of frost feasta?
No remain honey ford
and gave a pioneer cockcraw
(detail from "Methow Water", 2024, original encaustic)
Hallucination Engine
Whatever we touch
Morphs
Into a reflection
Of the toucher
And so it is
With all senses
Each reflecting
Our sense
Of self
No other but
An engine of creativity
In ever changing
Display
(2/4/24)
Rum and L.S.D
conjure up a train tunnel,
psychedelic blues and reds,
two bright orbs left and right,
no sound just an eerie silence.
Written 16th August
For second edition of Wayra poetry contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
Syllable count 5/7/7/6/8.
you fade into
the distance
out of reach
an illusion
dissipating
with the breeze
into the night
a specter
an hallucination
vanishing
leaving me forever
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on December 16, 2018 for contest LATE DECEMBER 2018 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Derailed, dizzy, drunk, I snore on my floor.
Naked, unshaven, bald I don’t beg for a penny.
Rotten poems, intellectual crap, I'm agnostic.
Warm dialogues, Worms all over me, I'm reckless.
Shivering and shouting, I'm searching for my balls.
Hallucination, Marijuana, dreams, life is a gas balloon.
Those lusts still sticking with my memory
I walked thousand miles away
a place where that smell can never reach
May be its the hallucination but
Tell me why your shadows
keep me following on and on?
No more strength is left
as you torn apart my strength
but I still want to ask again
Do you?
Form:
figment of imagination
that's all it was
it was never real
it was all an hallucination
brought on by a
longing for companionship
a desire for belonging
a need to be part of
a group to be accepted
to not be a quote-un-quote loner
in the eye's of a society of
felicity that we all live in
Hills weeping
Streets and sex litter
With echoes of anxieties
As pattering feet taking solace
In their shrines
The second coming...
Oceans of nightmares garrison my iris,
Waiting for his coming,
With a bottle of hallucination,
I saw his coming...
My name is Prophet Harold
Form:
is it just my Imagination
running wild or maybe
it is a weird Hallucination
I’m lost in my Reverie
as I Dream of you and me
together, or is it just Whimsy
on my part that you would
find me to be your soul mate
I spend a lot of my waking hours
practicing Visualization of us as a couple
Yes, on the edge of death
I've felt the window of eternity
It wasn't a human personality
But silence and ecstasy
Too profound for words
Was this a hallucination?
Or this body kicking adrenaline
From the impact
Of the accident
Either way
Life still retains mystery
Plenty of worlds to uncover
For a heart so bold
Watching the ascension
of half-moon from the brown hills
there was a blast in veins.
A raw hope strokes the clouds.
Starting a fire in stars,
making you blind.
Till the eyelids become heavy
with guilt, striving. Waking up
in middle of blue.
I was trying to reach you, when you
were not there,
wounding me in void.
SATISH VERMA
Form:
Startled by the hallucination
of himself upon the wall
The man of a compromised conscience
cringes with apprehensive velocity
Debilitating panic emerges
with a disconcerting air of predictability
Transporting him, intangibly, to a setting that prohibits
his own narration
Forcing him to endure his biography
without any preferred revisions
Show me the way to
Go back for
We are about to apart
Though we conquered
Hundreds of thousands of miles
Together frankly
It’s a hard journey
A hard journey for sure
Why you loved me
Why I loved you
Is all about a hallucination
I fell in love with you
Not to leave you behind
So sooner
But if you wanna leave me
I’ll
Saumya Aloysius