Illusions

I had a verse in my head and now it’s gone.

A soul adrift that doesn’t belong.

On this Earth or the next, wherever that may be.

Alone forever. Wandering, forever wandering.

Lost without a guide, no compass to point.

No home to travel, no memory waiting.

 

My illusion - just a dream - my joy -my illusion.

Gone are my friends.  Youth wilted.

Home has crumbled.  The fields are a wasteland.

Her breasts, a barren desert.  Nothing grows.

A dying flower without a spring; warm and fragile.

The petals are brittle, easily crumbled.

Reviews

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

This is a sad, and yet so well expressed. Sometimes I feel lost like this...even the muse flies away. Not a good feeling, but then the time goes by and somehow this feeling gets smaller.
"Gone are my friends. Youth wilted." excellent line!
"A dying flower without a spring; warm and fragile.
The petals are brittle, easily crumbled." love this too

[James]

Yes, another night when nothing seemed right. Honestly, I was thinking of home again.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Home...so many thoughts in that.

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'Illlusions'
James,
As the saying goes: "Life is hard.." I get that. This poem spoke of illusion..youth wilted..dying flower. But you used this time of sadness you felt and still managed to channel these thoughts into words. I hardly do that. A reminder that we cannot only be in the happy times and mountaintop experiences. The dry times call too.
Blessings,
Kathy

[Pete]

Very deep. Captures the feeling of being lost very well. You say a lot with a few words.

[James]

Thank you very much. That is exactly what I was feeling. Lost.

[Coyote Poetry]

Strong description and powerful use of words left reader with thoughts and visions. Illusions can lead us to better places and old memories. Thank you James for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[James]

Wow, thanks. I'm really glad you liked this one.

[Coyote Poetry]

I did and you are welcome.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this made me feel barren...those once romantic thoughts dried up completely...the poet dried up as well...needs a drink of inspiration...needs something to grow back in those fields of emotional longing...

love is so fragile.

j.

[James]

"fields of emotional longing..." Exactly.

Thanks for reading.