straight jacket

06/2011

I'm a thespian in my own phantasmagoria

a runner in this marathon of subconsciousness

slowly weaving this tale of sycophancy 

I am my own tragedian on the stage of my mind

a artist of mass self destruction

painting horrors on the canvas of my insides

I am the creator of this ornament of affliction 

a architect designing this projection of a fiasco

building these walls to contain utter obscurity 

how I wish I could awake from this chimera

that these spawned malignant spirits would release me

to what remains of this disintegrated existence

but I can't come back to reality

the bars of this dream are to strong

illusion had become my actuality

this vagueness is now my verity

Reviews

[TJ]

First of all I gotta say the picture you chose for this one was awesome lol
This insanity laden piece was wonderfully written.

"but I can't come back to reality
the bars of this dream are to strong
illusion had become my actuality"
These three lines are just genius!

Very imaginative and vivid write!!

[Mockingbird]

takes us into a mind of a tortured soul. sometimes it is a comfort to prefer illusion to actuality. i like the parallelism to music and playing the instrument, the build up climax and resignation. great poem.

[Enigma]

A dark poem, taking the reader deep inside the mind of the speaker and making him see the world through the eyes of someone unable to draw fixed lines between reality and fantasy. Well penned.

[Mary C]

An excellent write

[realmwriter]

Sounds of an airplane, buzzing over head, have left me wondering if I am alive or if I'm dead. Before they drive the nail and rest me in my bed, please someone tell me, am I alive or dead. Heard the noise in my head and I figured what was said, was that I was dead but outside in the dust I smelled the mold and must and I guess that I should be alive. I since the growing hive, a singular thought inside, count me down my days as I grow closer to the haze. But in this maze called life we all deal differently with strife. So languish on no more, to walk hastily through the door, never to return the key, so as not to look and see, if I am alive or dead. Your poem was very inspiring for me and that is the result. Thank You. I really like your piece but I have to admit, there are some words I need to look up. Awesome write.

[Draven]

I am my own tragedian on the stage of my mind
a artist of massive self destruction
painting horrors on the canvas of my insides

(That is such a cool line. Nice man.)

[turning violet]

what is bliss? and does this exist?
ignorance? some say, I know not,
just a thought..

[Priscilla Sayers]

The torture of a creative mind is unrelenting. Many will be able to relate to your piece. You are a true artist and finding a center can sometimes help. But as we all struggle with some form of distant realities I have no words to give. Only the fact that you are a wonderful poet.

[WritersSoul]

Such big words :O im only 15 and i dont know the top few words :(
But i loved the creativity and the dark bits of yourself, like you're in your own little hell :)
Beth :3

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

exquisite use of rich words within the framework of descriptive imagery to relay the feeling of inner entrapment which may in actuality be liberation from this dream of reality~ fantastic fluctuations in impressions~

[M.E.Lyle]

I suppose illusion can become our reality if we allow it, or have nothing better to do. We all live in our own little world of fantasy, sometimes we just need a little hacksaw to cut through those bars of our dreams. This was very well written and displays how our innerselves can become lost to our unconsciousness.