Fantasy and/or Reality

Is fantasy better than reality? Write a poem about reality and/or fantasy.
Rule:
1500 word limit, you can do that or under,
Please submit 3 or under.
Old or new;
and of course, it has to be about the topic!
Happy writing!

This poem is about the enchantment of losing oneself in a lovely fantasy, wrapping oneself in daydreams...

- Wrapped in Daydreams -

In the fair light of daybreak, when all is so still,
I walk in the meadows, when the air is yet chill...
Wrapped up in daydreams, and visions so fair,
That I dance about in circles, where few dare!
Spinning, spinning, like the silk of spider webs...
Glistening with dew, like the sweat in my hair.
Music in the movement, that ever softly ebbs...
As the stars of night vanish with dawn's glare.

Somewhere in the symphony, I've lost myself,
A speck beneath the trees that tower all about...
Whilst my spirit is taken like a book off a shelf,
To a realm of enchantment, where fades doubt.
Too cruel, the waking from dreams golden pure,
Shining so like silver seas and a pleasant shore!
What craft have I to cross the waters so deep...
That they may as well be mountains most steep?

Too long in slumber, and how can you awaken,
When calls the day, finding you lost in the dance?
Your feet wet with dew, your mind beyond ken,
Of mortals who went not where you did prance…
You must welcome the hour with a smiling face,
And begin the day with the utmost polite grace.
But in your heart, the dreams will remain strong…
From some you'll never awake, even with a gong!

wow

Fantasy

I fly in my gossamer wings
Of pretty lavender tinged
With magic blue
And rainbow hues
I fly above and kiss
The passing winds
With their vibrant colours
Bursts of sunlight
In blazes of green
The blades of grasses
Tipped with gold
In my pretty garden

I sip rose syrup
From my glass
Cool with tinkling ice
Sitting on a bench
Among the flowers
I hear the bells from fairy rings
As they dance to the dusk
Where starlight shines on
In silvery grace
The ringed moon smiles down
In its evanescent glitter
Until the clouds snuff it out

When dawn does come
I awake to sunshine
Stark reality of food and rent
Of mortgage defaulted
Of water bills piling
And electricity bill appealing
For all unpaid dues
I long for night to come again
Away from worldly cares
To dream again
Perchance to dream
of being a pretty butterfly!

The Gloaming

I once was asked to make an epic choice, as if my very life depended upon it
To choose fantasy or reality, selecting one over the other, and then forever living with my choice

So, I thought long and hard, queried my heart, searched my immortal soul
Realizing the importance of this question, the damning finality of it all

Not surprising, I began with considering the realm of fantasy, all of its delicious, seducing delights
A world where all is possible, all is beautiful, and my lusty mind can frolic unfettered, or fettered if I am so inclined

Endless lovemaking, zero gravity twirling, with a feminine beauty of epic proportions
Exploring her dark, moist places, more than the usual three, all sheathing and receptive

Able to penetrate and receive, dominate and submit
Feeling all that was to feel in unbridled amplitude and volume

After I was able to recover, after some quick and careful gesticulation
I then pondered the other side of the question, true and honest reality

When you think about it, poor old veracity has gotten such a bum rap,
Mundane and urbane, especially since the growth of reality TV, like prosaic, mindless weeds beneath our feet

But reality is also where memories are forged, kept and stored
Those special moments full of wonder and magic, shared with the one I love

It is also the domain of authenticity, where my truth endures
The splendid flawlessness that is me when I’m not too busy trying to be who everyone else thinks I should be

It also important to recall one simple fact, oft forgotten
For what would fantasy be without reality, so less spectacle and Cirque de Soleil

Still struggling with my choice, vacillating back and forth
It suddenly dawned on me, a third choice not offered, but now considered

For a lack of a better term, I’ll call it the gloaming
That special time between the reality of day and the fantasy of night, fleeting fantasy made real perfection

Rarest of moments is this fragile gloaming
Overlapping of two universes rarely perceived

Recalling the softest twilight, radiant red
Igniting my love's hair, a burnt orange forest fire, and a quiet desire in my heart

Strolling Vienna on a crisp November morning, cinnamon coffee kisses
As vibrant golden leaves flowing like an earthy, autumnal river

Magical moments when our lovemaking really was epic
Climaxing together while holding on for dear life, then astonished giggling afterwards

And so there it is, my most obvious choice, one I can eternally live with
I'll take the mystical gloaming with all of its rarity, truly the best of all that is fantastic and real

Great poems,guys!

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If this is your reality I'm glad I'm away with the fairy's


         I awoke and saw what I was missing  
    the world,a breeding ground for elitist insanity  
          waging their war on the inferior  
    their sticky hands reaching for fool's gold  
 
       lands plundered for their liquid power  
            under the guise of democracy    
        even the watchful eye of the holy see    
            is blinded by his past life  
 
         I see nature fighting for her land  
        her oceans, unrelenting battering rams  
            her winds, angry accusations  
        she crumbles cities to make her point  
 
         Lady liberty is turning tricks  
     pimped out on the eastern street corners  
        by Justice Fairness and Equality  
      and oh! how she likes her new savagery  
       
      so give back to me my trusted gateway  
       and I will return from where I came  
           never to venture here again  
               to this sad reality  

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"Cracks"


Time is the older brother of money
and both are huge in the slave-trade, mad-houses
but when you disperse to less than memories
they too, will be as mortal as the now.

To be a stranger amongst strangers
can be the most you, you've ever been
as long as there is someone, somewhere
who knows who you really are you don't have to crack.

Nobody lives in reality for much of the day.
Reality is like pain; lives just for moments
and when it's not avoided when possible
it will propel you through madness.

The only place I've ever seen insanity
was through the scratched convex lense of reality
but even there, with all its weight
I once wiped my arse and saw Jesus.