Hallucinating At Will

Imbibing on indoctrinations
That you are something other
Than a coagulation of cells
Manifested to reflect an ego

Perceiving yourself in a body
That carries fears and desires
Mirroring externally what needs
To be altered / fixed internally

When still there is nothing there
Though still is not even an option
Everything is moving so fast
It hardly seems real…..oh wait

It is an illusion of infinite proportion
Randomly coinciding as matter
Projected as long thought experiments
Illuminated by sparks of the divine


I was going to break this down and try to explain, however what good would poetry be, if the artist (there’s ego for you) (I’m just splashing pixled paint around) had to decipher for the recipient its intent and painstakingly explain each brushstroke.

That, and probably could not, if I tried.
Heck, I know not where it came from, let alone decipher it, for a very small audience.



“Just an observation,
Maybe I need
Different glasses. “

– Angelo Devlin