Cyclopseven R

Cyclopseven R Poems

a dream
an illusion?

a dream

Friendship is not a spoken matter
to carry words that soothe and hurt
leaving traces of bliss and pain.

in seconds
generations disappeared
beneath time humanity lies hidden
work of the mighty seductress from the sea,

A baby lay forgotten
In the womb of the dead mother;
Still breathing the last few breathes
The remaining of the mother’s last air.

There is
behind every closed door
of every human conscience
silent whispers

a day of remembrance
the penance undergone in love for love
by the light that shadows us

Sweet smell of burnt bushes and baked earth
still lingers in the memory though bygone in history
am awakened from the slumber’s depth
to the musical memory from the past gone by;

The night wind whisper thousand melodies
Consoling me the person concealed beneath
The piles of sorrow it carries away from me
soothing me in sweet murmurs, giving,

Trudging along the time historic
my mind wanders in slumber suicidal
veiled in maya I became haywire
truth scarcely represent the world I see

As she releases the hair straight
The breeze couldn’t wait to caress
And smell
Her soft hair.

A day to part
Away from scholarly books
And mind boggling journals
Running words and trawling letters

Within the heart of the universe
Life exuberates with joy for the mother to be
With both hands she clasped her belly
Sensing the kicks of an unborn baby

don’t read my poems, please
for I never write one to be read
in reading the essence is made substance
in feeling the substance is made essence.

Fighting breath a daily affair
to swallow food a task practiced
the child frail in look
contorted frame her only house

The days gone by
in thorns scattered
i stepped ignorantly.
tears dropped, wetting my cheeks

The last chapter
none wish to witness
when, they are alive.

Just as the white dove that flies high
greeting the clouds of mighty white
me too journeying ever facing the clouds
in search of a destination of wondrous beauty

She weeps thinking of her fate
entrusted upon this creature
that’s supposedly to refresh her face
and harvest bountifully her beauty.

An illusory excuse.


Her eyes glows
sparing no space too close
my vision melts into her gaze
as she looks at me to say some words.

The Best Poem Of Cyclopseven R

A Dream

a dream
an illusion?

a dream
an illusion of delusion?

a dream
an illusion in delusory delusion?

a dream
an illusion in delusory deluded confusion?

a dream
a confusion deluded in illusion?

a dream
a confusion deluded in illusory delusion?

a dream
a delusion of psychological nature?

a dream
a delusion of psychological nature’s illusory dream?

a dream
a dream in sleep?

a dream
a life in dream?

a dream
a life we dream?

a dream
a dream we live?

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Cyclopseven R Comments

Caroline Lennon 18 August 2023

Hello, I would like to request your permission to cite your poem on cerebral palsy. It's for a book that I'm writing about my aunt's experience of having cerebral palsy. She died 44 years ago. Thank you!

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