But I don't want to for M lady Ernestine
I wander freely mentally.
Enraptured by the things I see
within my worlds of fantasy.
I just reject reality
where nothing ever works for me.
Quite certain I would rather be
divorced from harsh reality
There is no comfort here for me
and live in my own fantasy.
A dream which cannot possibly
be realised apparently
Reluctantly I must agree.
That I am where I’m meant to be.
You can’t escape reality
and learn to act responsibly.
30-Mar-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Fantasies
An easy option to give
His escape to inner sanctum
Clothing the naive
With Fantasy's perfume.
In there is no rejection
Nor harsh judgement to weigh
No need to gain perfection-
All acceptance there arrayed.
From reality, the cover
Comes blanketing desires
Differing choice of partners
With all levels of the fire
Consuming hidden passions
Away from reality
A prison in delusion...
His life of fantasy.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Validation for colin j
Sometimes I think we should not try
to make our cherished dreams come true
and be content with fantasy.
We must accept reality
Some cherished dreams are doomed to fail.
Because they are not meant to be.
That does not mean we should not dream
For dreams are a necessity
Though they’re not always as they seem
Dreams can protect our sanity
provide escape from every day
repetitive reality.
Dreams can become reality
Though only if they’re meant to be.
31/05/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Manifesto [ORIGINAL & REVISED]
[REVISED]
Okay – I admit romance does not exist, at least
not in this quaint veracity which claims it has a
place somewhere but rarely ever here
I shall not cry about discovery of circumstance
that fact is non-existent in romance – reality a
chance one does not really have to see
Anyone can prove it lives eternally in dreams, a
never dying sustenance of many Worlds beliefs
with energies too dominant to ever die
If fantasy alive and well then I admit against my
better judgement I’ve been hurt; but add in haste
it does not matter since it truly breathes
In Worlds as infinite or parallel, I do not need the
proof of our reality – a mere perchance of it as
probability enough - the vastness of infinity
allows for every choice and dream or hope and
expectation to exist – I do not need accord to see
romance, or merely mention the ideal -
of fantasy, hopes, & dreams to make it true for me,
I shall avoid reality, live in dreams encompassing
imaginings I’ve always gladly had or harboured to
excess; therefore your attitude, and lack of feeling
means a blank to me; cannot kill the vision I shall
cherish from now on until eternity arrives…
[ORIGINAL]
Okay, I admit, romance does not exist – at least not
in this reality; but the fact that we can dream about
romance is proof it does exist somewhere
I shall not cry about my loss – discovering that
romance is non-existent – reality is only a mirage,
one parallel world amongst many – I do not need
Anyone to prove that romance lives on in our dreams,
nothing can kill it; no negative word, no pain, no dis-
illusionment, can kill the many worlds theory
Where fantasy is alive and well - I admit, against my
better judgement, I have been hurt; but hasten to add
it does not matter since romance is alive and well
In infinite parallel worlds - I do not need proof in our
little world of intersubjective reality – mere possibility
is probability enough - the vastness of infinity
Allows for every choice, dream, hope and expectation
to exist – I do not need you or anybody else to agree
to feel romance; merely mentioning the ideal -
- fantasy, hope and dream - makes it true for me, I shall
leave reality and live within a dream encompassing
every thought, hope and ideal
I have ever harboured; your attitude and being, your lack
of feeling, means nothing to me; cannot kill the vision
I cherish unto eternity…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Dual Personality for C.P.Sharma
Dual Personality
Sometimes I try to concentrate.
My mind decides to deviate
and gaily goes its sweet way
Against my will I have to say.
Although I love to fantasise
I often find to my surprise.
My mind is playing tricks on me.
Accepting as reality.
Strange things which cannot possibly
exist outside of fantasy.
Perhaps my mind is free to go
to places that I cannot know.
Bound by my frame of reference.
To where there is no difference.
Reality and fantasy
can coexist quite happily.
Am I my mind? Is my mind me?
It seems to me quite possibly.
My mind does not depend on me.
An independent entity
which is quite free to come and go.
I am convinced it must be so.
Although I know I’m always me.
My mind remains a mystery.
Am I my mind? Is my mind me?
I ponder on it frequently.
It seems to work efficiently
but how it does still baffles me.
12-Oct-08
http.blog.myspace.com/poe ticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Fantasy Is Reality/bells Of Madness
Sunset blood drained from the sky
Desires found the night to die
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Serious in making chains
The voices of greed all sound the same
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Fantasy is reality
I love my fantasy
Reality is fantasy
Just dont call it reality, oh no
Tunnel pain is falling fast
Into the fear that time will last
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Im so tired of the lies they tell
Find the truth they cant buy or sell
But when I hear the bells of madness ring
I will listen to the silence
Love is louder than anything
And peaceful in its violence
Fantasy is reality
I love my fantasy
Reality is fantasy
Just dont call it reality, oh no
song performed by by Wilsons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Imagine
Maybe you are already too old
Maybe you are not a child anymore
But let's imagine
Maybe you say this is a harsh world
Maybe you say I'm a naive person
But could you imagine?
Maybe it is ridiculous
Maybe it will never come true
But it's good to imagine
Maybe reality will never be like a dream
Maybe it just a temporary escape machine
But I want still able to imagine
Maybe about a fantasy land full of adventure
Maybe just a comfort and peaceful life
But take a breath and bravely imagine
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Fantasize
We fantasize in our daydreams
the way we want things to be
wishing all the time
our fantasy will come true.
We find so much comfort
in our fantasy dream word
than we do in our reality
that we hope that one day
we can step out of this world
and step into that.
Saying to ourselves that it would be better
than the world we have,
but just suppose we did that.
Are we sure, it is what we really want?
No one will ever know,
as it is just our fantasy.
The one we fantasize about
when things get us down.
In our daydreams from time to time.
29 August 2011
poem by David Harris
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Blinkered
Am I run mad that I believe?
In things that others cannot see.
I do not wish you to relieve
me of divine insanity.
I can reject reality
it holds but small allure for me.
I much prefer my fantasy.
My dreams that others cannot see.
Although you doubt my sanity.
That does not mean you are correct
The things I see you cannot see.
You are too frightened to accept.
Your mind is closed you do not see
Remove the blinkers from your eyes
and see the fairies everywhere.
All I can do is sympathise.
You do not really want to see.
Your version of reality
is all you think that there can be.
But still you dare to pity me.
(14-Aug-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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All of the problems we're facing with debt are manmade problems. We created them. It's called fantasy economics. Fantasy economics only works in a fantasy world. It doesn't work in reality.
quote by Michele Bachmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day Dreaming
I day dream most times
day and night
and come back to
This Reality
with a Start.
Day-Dream world
pleases me;
rich
tapestries
and there
many of my lives
converge and mingle.
Is it so wrong to live there
much of my day?
To wrap my Soul
in that world and play?
So many of the things
I love
only reside there
what harm
can there be with
loving and being with
that pleasing Reality?
Swapping day Dream World
for work
and this Harsh Life
seems
only a proposition
one might accept
who likes harsh.
I do not.
I like rainbows
and pretty things
and they
all live
and sing
in my Day Dreams.
You can find me there
by singing.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A Rock n Roll Fantasy
Hello you, hello me, hello people we used to be
Isnt it strange, we never changed
Weve been through it all yet were still the same
And I know its a miracle, we still go, and for all we know
We might still have a way to go
Hello me, hello you, you say you want out
Want to start anew, throw in your hand
Break up the band, start a new life, be a new man
But for all we know, we might still have a way to go
Before you go, theres something you ought to know
Theres a guy in my block, he lives for rock
He plays records day and night
And when he feels down, he puts some rock n roll on
And it makes him feel alright
And when he feels the world is closing in
He turns his stereo way up high
He just spends his life, living in a rock n roll fantasy
He just spends his life, living on the edge of reality
He just spends his life, in a rock n roll fantasy
He just spends his life, living in a rock n roll fantasy
He just spends his life, living on the edge of reality
He just spends his life, in a rock n roll fantasy
He just spends his life, livingt in a rock n roll fantasy
Look at me, look at you
You say youve got nothing left to prove
The king is dead, rock is done
You might be through but Ive just begun
I dont know, I feel free and I wont let go
Before you go, theres something you ought to know
Dan is a fan and he lives for our music
Its the only thing that gets him by
Hes watched us grow and hes seen all our shows
Hes seen us low and hes seen us high
Oh, but you and me keep thinking
That the worlds just passing us by
Dont want to spend my life, living in a rock n roll fantasy
Dont want to spend my life living on the edge of reality
Dont want to waste my life, hiding away anymore
Dont want to spend my life, living in a rock n roll fantasy...
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Can Be Hard To Take
'What is fantasy? '
Devoid of any reality.
'What is reality? '
That depends on...
How much of it is being fed.
Where it comes from.
How much can one stomach.
How much is being regurgitated...
And what is left in the body to nourish one's mind.
'OH! ? So...
Why does 'reality' have to go through that process? '
It has always been that way.
It's just harder to digest.
And some folks have problems keeping it down!
It can be hard to take!
Especially on an empty stomach!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Let Us Try This One
what if i stay as your dream
and then you become my reality
will it be sort of sorrow?
or will it be a fanfare?
what if i become your reality
and then you become my dream?
what if we just become both as
dreams?
yes, just dreams because we cannot
afford us
this reality, we are faraway like north and south
we are hardheaded like rocks
we pretend to meet at a certain point
yet we maintained the distance of parallel lines
what if? then what? i agree, we better remain as words
there is not a touch which can destroy us
there is not a poisonous kiss
there is none at all, and perhaps that is what we really wanted.
yes, a dream that does not come true. yes, we are excited for nothing
at all.
yes, we are not really meant for each other
despite our clamor for completion. yes, i am but a spare tire
and what shall it be you? Air.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If 'That' Is Kept Pursued
'Why does reality have no chance of surviving,
In a land where fantasy is worshipped...
And prioritized for all to understand,
Throughout one's life as a demand? '
Fantasy is worshipped in a land,
Where reality has no chance...
And is repimanded,
From birth as a command.
'Oh...
So there is no choice involved? '
Of course there is.
If one chooses to be deluded by truth.
And decides to become ostracized,
If 'that' is kept pursued!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Dreamer's Poet
Dreamers dream
dreaming that
all their dreams are dreams;
and is reality then multiple-shaped
or itself a dream?
If dreams are things not real or true
or don't yet exist
then what does it mean for dreamer to
act upon the dream and bring it forth
into reality?
Was the dream just reality
not yet existent;
in waiting so to speak?
Or was it live
always there
waiting to be discovered?
Seems to me
this is much like a poem;
how the poem comes to be-
unless, of course,
the poet
is a dream too,
outside reality
paradoxical conundrum
don't you see?
And more:
could it be the Dreamer's Poet
in dreaming thus
creates the Poet
and the Poetry
both of which
become Reality
Thus?
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The ever watchin eye.
Be careful what you choose to do
C.C.T, V is watching you.
If you’re caught short and need to pee
You can be certain you will be
recorded by C.C.T.V.
A matter of security
I’m not too sure that I agree
I’m sure that it was meant to be
But have to say it seems to me.
Invasion of our privacy
Though placed on private property
they are positioned so they see.
Where people have a right to be.
Recording automatically
whatever happens secretly.
That’s not the way things used to be
nor am I sure things ought to be.
Favoured by the powers that be
The ultimate authority
C.C.T.V has come to be
Accepted though reluctantly.
That is the harsh reality
We must live with apparently.
Please take this warning seriously
Remember that C.C.T.V
Is watching and watching me.
Because they’re placed strategically
they can’t be seen too easily.
You might well think you are quite free
from scrutiny by C.C.T.V.
It is a possibility
in isolated property
In city streets a rarity.
It’s seen as a necessity
which will safeguard your property
Although sometimes it saddens me
The advent of C.C.T.V
Has changed the world permanently.
Progress does not come for free
We have no choice but pay the fee..
Monday,29 August 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Why elf sleeps with open eyes
Why elf sleeps with open eyes and human doesn’t?
Because elf lives in fantasy and dreams reality
But human lives in reality and dreams fantasy
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Now That It Is Shown
Whatever it is you thought it was...
Isn't.
Nor had it been.
Although you were convinced...
It would never end.
And now that it is shown,
What you believed was known...
Has gone.
You want to know what is going on.
Reality as it should be!
Had not been introduced.
Not like it is now...
For all to see.
And many are in denial...
That 'this' reality,
Is not what they expected...
To leave such an effective,
Truthfulness!
And those nourished on complete fantasy...
Believe 'reality' should be encouraged,
To approach them!
As a means to allow its acceptance!
And sickened by an exclusivity nonexistent.
'Why are they here dressed in tuxedos and furs? '
They wish to show themselves as the chosen.
And have come to impress the unconscious.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fooling Ourselves
Imagination is not reality.
Romanticism is not reality.
Fallacy and fantasy follow suit.
We get pleasure by fooling ourselves.
(29.01.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Your Presence
Reality – THIS reality in which YOU live – is more beautiful
than the dream, I am content, it would seem you can work
wonders with your presence, when you are there, the sun
comes out, when you speak, you open my heart, when you
pronounce, my mind wakes up, with your sonorous voice
in my ears, I understand the meaning of living this life
Thank you for teaching me to trust by being trustworthy
and holding my hand when my fears held me over the
abyss, thank you for turning back as I fell trying to follow
in your footsteps, thank you for being just who you are
even when others did not comprehend your great spirit
and sweet intent – I appreciate you, right here, right now
Just as you are, without fear that you are just a figment
of my imagination – because you are not, you are so
much bigger than that – no fantasy can reach the height
of your stature, you just keep growing, I love reality
- at last!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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