Fighting-Chance
He has a fighting-chance of working with his figment,
The figment he remembers for all his long-term memory.
A field of ingoing thoughts waits to be proclaimed,
The jeep of all worries is in his whole span of life.
The jaws of youth were closed and it felt like a jaunt
That carried from noisome events, stupid occasions,
The nocturnal ideas indicated new options of disgust.
By the off chance, a thought collected to straighten,
But it turned out that the figment was reddening his face.
The figment of imagination, an officious training of the mind,
Protected him as if, and one day felt like a bird’s rectrix,
For the imagination was given revenge afterwards.
The reuse of the thoughts gained pace, speeded up,
And returfed the spectrum of thought called the Mind.
poem by Naveed Akram
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On My Way
With no shadow and no image,
I wonder on my way,
a figment of someone’s imagination
that disappears in the dawning light.
Still I wander on my way
looking for somewhere to settle,
always looking, and never finding
that place to settle down
where I can rest forever
until my time comes.
Still I wander on my way
with hope that one day
my restless wanderings
will finally be through.
If you see me,
I will be thought of as a dream
or a figment of your imagination
as I have no shadow and no image
to test the light of day.
26 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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A Gentle Touch of a Doting Mother
Not a figment of one's imagination,
Is a life of another lived.
Nor can one explain a pain endured.
Felt as others take this and theirs,
For granted.
Kept are these wounds to heal,
Alone.
Sometimes heard,
Are those moans and groans to hush.
With a wish for them to be gone.
Not a figment of one's immagination,
Is a life of another lived.
Nor can one explain a pain endured.
Felt as others take this and theirs,
For granted.
Some dismiss a gentle touch of a doting mother.
The ones unfortunate to know what this is.
Some dismiss the hugs given with kisses.
The ones not missing,
The nourishment a providing of this gives.
Kept are these wounds to heal,
Alone.
Sometimes heard,
Are those moans and groans to hush.
With a wish for them to be gone.
And a healing of a pain eventually goes,
Away.
Some dismiss a gentle touch of a doting mother.
The ones unfortunate to know what this is.
And those who are,
Fortunate...
To know and/or remember,
Know memories of 'mama' within them linger.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You cannot condemn a man for what may only be a figment of your own imagination.
quote by Stephen King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes I feel like a figment of my own imagination.
quote by Lily Tomlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I?
Am I just a picture in his gallery?
A toy in his collection?
A figment of his imagination?
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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I Am Your Holocaust
Stars create an imperfect design of the perfect holocaust
I take the form of a terminal disease and there's no way to rid yourself of me
The impending doom will not pause itself for any man
God can't save anyone from me, he won't hear your prayers
That figment of your imagination called your dignity will falter in time
The waves will crash down on you from your lack of motivation
You can do anything you set your mind to, but it won't save you
Face the fact that your end is near
I am your holocaust
poem by Dave Brucker
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I Reach For You
For so long
you were
an illusion.
a dream,
a figment
of my
imagination.
suddenly
you
appeared.
standing
in the
corridor
of my
heart.
I reach
for you.
then you
return
to your
former
state.
poem by Heather Burns
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If My Loving For You Matters
Don't delay...
If my loving for you,
Matters.
Don't misbehave...
If my loving for you,
Matters.
I'm more than just a figment of your mind,
In your life.
I thought I proved I love you,
But you want more proof of it!
What is it that you want...
Me to do?
Do you want me to breathe anytime that you want?
Do you want it tattooed on my tongue to flaunt?
Do you want me to scream love for you from the trees?
Do you want me to crawl around upon my knees?
Do you want my eyes to twinkle bright all day?
Do you want 'I Love You' recorded...
To playback and replay?
You squawk too much,
And its begun to bother me.
I need to medicate!
You squawk too much,
And its begun to bother me.
I need to medicate!
Don't delay...
If my loving for you,
Matters.
Don't misbehave...
If my loving for you,
Matters.
I'm more than just a figment of your mind,
In your life.
I thought I proved I love you,
But you want more proof of it!
What is it you want...
Me to do?
You squawk too much,
And its begun to bother me.
I need to medicate!
You squawk too much,
And its begun to bother me.
I need to medicate!
Don't delay...
If my loving for you,
Matters.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Beautiful Nightmare
Was it all a dream?
Was it one of those misty fairytales rolling around in the chasm in my mind?
Was it really a dream for it felt so real?
Memories are now dwindling to mist as time marches onward
Images wither to a cloudy haze of gray and blue for things I once knew
No longer sure of the past or present for time marches on fast
I still dream of things that were but not sure of its clarity anymore
Things that were, not so long ago, are now shadows of their former glory
I sit, I wait, and I anticipate you calling to hear silence in the background
Are you really real or are you a figment of my imagination still?
So peaceful I slumber in a dream of you and me so sweet
We walk and talk like we use to do on those simmering days of seasons low
We stop for gelatos and I always ask for the extra size ones
I knew they didn’t have it, but I enjoy frolicking with the females at the counter
It seemed so real that each moment I never wanted to wake from
You holding me close as we walked hand in hand across the land of smiles
I so proud having you on my arm and you, well, I am not so sure any more
Knowing such enchantments and joy filled my heart with excitement
Rarely I have ever felt before such warmth in that moment past
All the worries of the world wanes to not even a single thought
So nice it was then and could have never been otherwise perfect
Are you a dream or just an apparition of a distant memory of lost shadows?
Could it all have been just in my subconscious mind for things I am longing to find?
Is the thought too wonderful to be real?
If you are a dream, then you are a beautiful nightmare
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Long Nights of Rain
In the long nights of rain
You come to haunt me.
I've never set my eyes on you,
Yet your fragrance permeates
My whole being.
You the woman of my making
Born in my imagination
Chiseled in my dream
A figment of my yearning soul.
I never knew when my heart you stole!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Memory (Old Piece)
I'm a figment of thought
I'm a fantasy
I'm lost in the past
I'm a memory
I'll run away
And you'll forget
Ignore the past
As lost regret
You said you'd always
Remember me
But now I'm just
A memory
You called me a friend
Yet I mean nothing to you
You lied to me
And broke your truce
For I can't say
I'm a memory
For you no longer
Remember me
poem by Ryan Joseph Holder
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I always thought I'd like my own tombstone to be blank. No epitaph, and no name. Well, actually, I'd like it to say ""figment.""
quote by Andy Warhol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Love Has Come
When love has come,
But it is soon gone.
It begs the question,
Was it there?
The love was lost,
And never found,
Lost without you,
Lost without me,
Lost into enternity.
The love was just a figment,
A figment of our minds,
Something we could ponder,
But never express.
Was it love or just a feeling?
Was it love or just a healing?
Healing from the hatred,
The hatred of our hearts,
Our pass was deep and full of pain.
We needed thisto release the stain.
For this I do not regret,
The time with you that I had spent.
poem by Heather Noble
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Imignation
As I acknowledge the energy
of love in my life.
I reach out to touch you.
A silhouette long planted
in my mind,
Will remain there forever.
A figment of my imignation.
poem by Heather Burns
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Figment Of Your Imagination
Would it be easier for you to take,
If I told you...
I was a figment of your imagination?
Wouldn't that be great?
And I allowed you to be conscious of me,
Whenever you believed I existed.
Just to get on your nerves.
But actually didn't.
Because in reality...
You have been creating your own headaches.
And accusing me,
Of being the one to implement them.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Madness
I stare into the vastness of the sky
And wonder: who am I, really?
Am I the perceived notions of the
Curious eyes encountered: a figment
Of their imagination or is it mine?
Is what I assess in my bedroom
Vanity mirror at night a phantom:
An image that exist only in my mind?
I feel like a Ken doll in Barbie’s world
Where an invisible force determines
My every movement except my mind:
A mental prisoner of the physical world.
Whose only salvation is to go insane
And leave this feigned reality plane.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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I never understood why when you died, you didn't just vanish, everything could just keep going on the way it was only you just wouldn't be there. I always thought I'd like my own tombstone to be blank. No epitaph, and no name. Well, actually, I'd like it to say 'figment.'
quote by Andy Warhol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being A Poet
being a poet
is not an ambition
it is ironic
that i do poetry and
yet i do not want
to be called a poet
nor be identified with
any movement in poetry
nor take the challenge and opportunity
of being crowned by laurel leaves
and be dragged on the stage of
an island of light focusing my head and body
and they shall all clap and say
this is the poet, this is our poet
not in the figment of my imagination
not an ambition not a profession not a career in the field of literature
to be a poet on a certain degree
you see, i live in a crowded universe
i am a fish in the sea of people
and i, never imagine once in my whole life
that i will be swimming so meaninglessly in the corridors
of this vast ocean of men and mice and snakes
and goats and pigs and eagles
poetry is what i do but i am not a poet
this poet, that poet
their poet
the reason is here inside my heart
this is my place &
this is my only chance to be alone
to be myself to be human again for out there
i, we, you have become pillars
and dams.and walls and continental shelves
it is only here in this spot
that i become my island
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sympathy
Sympathy just doesnt mean
That much to me
Compassions not
The fashion in my mind
And if youre looking for
A shoulder to cry on
Dont turn your head my way
cause Id rather have
My music any day
You and I are
Masters of our destiny
We look for consolation all the time
Until we find out things are not
What they were meant to be, oh no
And if it doesnt suit our mood
Well call it crime
Dedications not an obligation
Or a figment of
Someones imagination
Its the only way they say
To live from day to day
To make each passing way
A small sensation
Dreams are the possession of
The simple man
Reality the fantasy of youth
But living is a problem that
Is common to us all
With love the only
Common road to truth
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Engineering is a great profession. There is the fascination of watching a figment of the imagination emerge through the aid of science to a plan on paper. Then it moves to realisation in stone or metal or energy. Then it brings homes to men or women. Then it elevates the standard of living and adds to the comforts of life. This is the engineer's high privilege.
quote by Herbert Hoover
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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