Page:
A fictional world in a real place
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poem based on the quote “childhood was a hallucinatory experience - a fictional world in a real place”
![](https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/forum_post/575929.jpg?1709374541)
Hi there
I’m taking part in a little writing course at the moment. One of the quotes used from the last session was:
“Childhood was a hallucinatory experience - a fictional world in a real place”
and I thought that was a fascinating concept.
For this contest I would like you to write a piece based on your interpretation of the above quote. What thoughts, feelings, and memories does it trigger?
Take your time with it. As usual, extra points for stepping outside the box and not just being super lineal on this one.
Notes
* No erotica.
* New writes only
* Audio / visual / video allowed
* Up to 2 entries per human
* No word count limit. Just don’t go mad.
* Comp judged by host
* Two weeks
Grace
IDryad
Forum Posts: 16730
IDryad
Tyrant of Words
124
Joined 25th Aug 2011![awards](/images/forum/tstar.gif)
Forum Posts: 16730
Childhood Daydreams
With the beginning of light
when my thoughts coalesced
my daydreams took flight
with many bright wishes
living between the desires
and the stark reality
loving the vivid imaginings
always zoning into the fictional world
surrealistic colourful scenes
drummed up by a lonely child
of dresses of a princess
cut out from the blue skies
visual arts with vibrant paints
on the doors to magical worlds
where all edibles were present
on many laden tables
laying down on a field
where wildflowers grew
I travel the fantastical world
on wings of a dragonfly
living in the reality
was not always pretty
but the fairies in the forest
kept me alive and interested
memories are now a bridge to the past
my childhood dreams didn’t last
I only remember the gentle play
of a child’s imagination of long ago.
Written by Grace
(IDryad)
Go To Page
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
Thanks for starting us off, Grace :)
Jordan
D.O.C.
13
Joined 4th May 2022
Forum Posts: 245
D.O.C.
Thought Provoker
![United States United States](/images/flags/United_States.gif)
![awards](/images/forum/tstar.gif)
Forum Posts: 245
Slipped through the Bednet
*
Closed worlds of stagnant labyrinths move in on sweats and tummy pains
as blood cells flood with parasites till alleys blind enwomb slain brains.
*
Feetnote: Each minute, a child under five dies of malaria.
Closed worlds of stagnant labyrinths move in on sweats and tummy pains
as blood cells flood with parasites till alleys blind enwomb slain brains.
*
Feetnote: Each minute, a child under five dies of malaria.
Written by Jordan
(D.O.C.)
Go To Page
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
Thanks for the entry, Jordan.
Isgyppie_
L.C. McQuillen
5
Joined 17th Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 63
L.C. McQuillen
Thought Provoker
![Australia Australia](/images/flags/Australia.gif)
![awards](/images/forum/tstar.gif)
Forum Posts: 63
Daze
I’ve triggered a daze
At least in my vocabulary
That’s what I’ve chosen to call it
Because dissociative depersonalization-derealization disorder
Really doesn’t have the same ring to it
Have you ever read a paragraph but
Realized afterwards you didn’t absorb any of the information from the words?
So you went back and tried again
And maybe this time implemented more focus
That’s what my days have become
Unfortunately time can not be reread more carefully
And my daze steals days again
All because I’ve written about the days my daze first began
And in looking back I face a conundrum
I wonder if my current daze is in the same
Wavelength as my past one
If my mind is taken to the same place
As she was
Or if this daze is far away from the long ago haze
My past self spent years inside
And if I will find myself closer or farther
To her the more I lean into this foggy
Existential dream like world that mimics reality
Is it the same one where she dwelled?
Letting myself slip back there feels like hell
I’ve finally made a safe place for myself
And thought that I could now take the time
To mend all of the pushed down, shoved out, ugly, maddening, atrocious feelings
But then the daze came with them
And I’ve already given so many days to the daze
My own mind doesn’t believe it has the capacity to process my pain
Without feeling this way
And there’s this glaze over my eyes
That looks upon the haven I’ve created
And tells me it isn’t mine
I guess I’ll begin again
*Take a deep breathe*
At the first line
Written by Isgyppie_
(L.C. McQuillen)
Go To Page
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
Thank you kindly for your entry, _isgyppie
wallyroo92
151
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1843
Tyrant of Words
![United States United States](/images/flags/United_States.gif)
![awards](/images/forum/tstar.gif)
Forum Posts: 1843
Music in Motion
I was young when I first saw that array of movement and color
That giant wall of sound reverberating through my ears
It left an impression deeply embedded on my mind and soul
Something that lingered in my heart for many, many years
It was physically demanding and technically challenging
But in those days I longed to improve and make the big leagues
Ensembles weaving together beautifully like poetry and music
Each part moving independently but as one unit at high speeds
Through the decades drills like Z pulls and disappearing crosses
Collapsing boxes, DNA helixes and other unique ideas conceived
From diamond cutters and meat grinders to full company fronts
From paper and pen to the stage you would have to see to believe
I remember sitting there in awe watching this music in motion
Embouchures kept in place while maintaining pitch and tune
Coordinated and synchronized timed to with such a precision
Amazing sights and sounds that still makes this old man swoon
Though I had some experience I was never able to make a team
But every summer I go and cheer and see new generations thrive
I witness the visions and creativities of others being made a reality
Like childhood kaleidoscope dreams and imaginations that come alive
Written by wallyroo92
Go To Page
Jezkeebs
Forum Posts: 13
Twisted Dreamer
1
Joined 26th Dec 2019![awards](/images/forum/tstar.gif)
Forum Posts: 13
An experience
Days back numbered
Now a haze
Crazy days
Of sunshine and flowers
Grass heads unnumbered
Sudden showers
Heavy mists laden
Waking to faces
That formed in the branches
Silent black bug that
watched from the water
Clicking in the rafters
Time slips in the boulders
Not hearing voices shout louder
From the dead mans bush
Night time stars humming
To the extinct forest vibration
Ancestral bones in caves
rattle in frustration
Behind waterfalls
Albino insects decorate nests
Gunshots in the distance
Men in rough suits
arrive from the west
a sunken eye under dark patch
Catch howling winds
That dance on graves in a tempest
Giant crabs on a white beach
Demi gods guard mountain tops
Children they teach
To jump over sharp toothed fish
Salt and fresh water
eels curled up in a dish
Figures at dark windows
In flickering light they appear
In the night always there
Numbered back days
Counting memories real
Locked in, forever
though this crazy haze
makes them unreal
Now a haze
Crazy days
Of sunshine and flowers
Grass heads unnumbered
Sudden showers
Heavy mists laden
Waking to faces
That formed in the branches
Silent black bug that
watched from the water
Clicking in the rafters
Time slips in the boulders
Not hearing voices shout louder
From the dead mans bush
Night time stars humming
To the extinct forest vibration
Ancestral bones in caves
rattle in frustration
Behind waterfalls
Albino insects decorate nests
Gunshots in the distance
Men in rough suits
arrive from the west
a sunken eye under dark patch
Catch howling winds
That dance on graves in a tempest
Giant crabs on a white beach
Demi gods guard mountain tops
Children they teach
To jump over sharp toothed fish
Salt and fresh water
eels curled up in a dish
Figures at dark windows
In flickering light they appear
In the night always there
Numbered back days
Counting memories real
Locked in, forever
though this crazy haze
makes them unreal
Written by Jezkeebs
Go To Page
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
Thanks Wallyroo and Jezkeebs
PAR
PAULO ACACIO RAMOS
18
Joined 26th May 2022
Forum Posts: 262
PAULO ACACIO RAMOS
Fire of Insight
![Portugal Portugal](/images/flags/Portugal.gif)
![awards](/images/forum/tstar.gif)
Forum Posts: 262
Garden of Stars
In the twilight of memories,
where the real and the imaginary intertwine,
there is a secret garden, hidden among the stars,
a refuge of dreams and hopes.
On the banks of the river of eternity
flowers made of light and longing grow.
Its petals sparkle like constellations,
and its roots go back in time.
Every flower holds a story,
a love that transcends mortality.
The winds whisper ancient secrets
and the stars weave threads of destiny.
In the center of the garden there is a mirror
reflecting the longings of wandering souls.
Who dares to look deeply in the light
will see their own dreams dancing.
At dawn, the flowers open
exhaling fragrances of hope.
The heavenly birds sing melodies
and weary travelers find shelter.
At dusk, the stars wake up
painting the sky with cosmic paints.
Lovers meet beneath the heavenly canopy
and their kisses turn into constellations.
This garden exists in all of us as a place
where the real and the imaginary merge.
So close your eyes and take a deep breath
just allow your dream wings to spread.
The Garden of Stars awaits
with its doors of ether and magic.
Enter, traveler, and discover the secrets,
for here poetry flourishes in every ray of light.
where the real and the imaginary intertwine,
there is a secret garden, hidden among the stars,
a refuge of dreams and hopes.
On the banks of the river of eternity
flowers made of light and longing grow.
Its petals sparkle like constellations,
and its roots go back in time.
Every flower holds a story,
a love that transcends mortality.
The winds whisper ancient secrets
and the stars weave threads of destiny.
In the center of the garden there is a mirror
reflecting the longings of wandering souls.
Who dares to look deeply in the light
will see their own dreams dancing.
At dawn, the flowers open
exhaling fragrances of hope.
The heavenly birds sing melodies
and weary travelers find shelter.
At dusk, the stars wake up
painting the sky with cosmic paints.
Lovers meet beneath the heavenly canopy
and their kisses turn into constellations.
This garden exists in all of us as a place
where the real and the imaginary merge.
So close your eyes and take a deep breath
just allow your dream wings to spread.
The Garden of Stars awaits
with its doors of ether and magic.
Enter, traveler, and discover the secrets,
for here poetry flourishes in every ray of light.
Written by PAR
(PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
Go To Page
Razzerleaf
27
Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 525
Fire of Insight
![United Kingdom United Kingdom](/images/flags/United_Kingdom.gif)
![awards](/images/forum/tstar.gif)
Forum Posts: 525
Life Inside a bedspread
It started in the half-light,
too cold to accept morning
waiting for footsteps on the stairs,
someone else to set the fire.
I stared into the deep weave
of my candlewick blue waves.
The threads opened as I fell through
landing soft and sickly, coughing
away my school days.
All left behind as my travels began,
chased and often eaten by giant dust mites,
sailing rivers of spilt milk on rafts of cornflakes,
running for cover in showers of spittle.
I became the map reader of myself
counting to three before I spoke.
It wasn't just the bedspread
I found a way in on wallpaper
staring at the pattern willing it to open.
I could leave any situation from any station.
but always followed by a distant drum beat
flexing the thin layers I had created
a murmur for my own inquisition.
I lost my talents to puberty,
forced to listen as I disrupted myself
and diluted others.
forced to be part of the world
outside the weave.
too cold to accept morning
waiting for footsteps on the stairs,
someone else to set the fire.
I stared into the deep weave
of my candlewick blue waves.
The threads opened as I fell through
landing soft and sickly, coughing
away my school days.
All left behind as my travels began,
chased and often eaten by giant dust mites,
sailing rivers of spilt milk on rafts of cornflakes,
running for cover in showers of spittle.
I became the map reader of myself
counting to three before I spoke.
It wasn't just the bedspread
I found a way in on wallpaper
staring at the pattern willing it to open.
I could leave any situation from any station.
but always followed by a distant drum beat
flexing the thin layers I had created
a murmur for my own inquisition.
I lost my talents to puberty,
forced to listen as I disrupted myself
and diluted others.
forced to be part of the world
outside the weave.
Written by Razzerleaf
Go To Page
![poet](/images/avatars/_nopic.gif)
Thanks PAR and Razzerleaf :)