Irony of non-existence (new title and edit)

[tectak]

captured in the...pigpen  

after a quick shufti, you have some spacing problems. for me it also felt there was an amount of excess. the first line could be stronger in order to draw the reader in; we are not really here at all; i found that after a few reads it improved. making early xmas dinner so rushing here. over all i enjoyed the questioning of the piece, for me it states we are more than "we are not" and it's one of the reasons i like it.

As I thought, it seems we are not really here at all;
phantoms, ephemeral and empty of all we think we are.
The loves we have, the music in our lives,
cheese, wine and thrills of falling, pounding headaches, i like the use of falling and pounding next to each other.
sensuality...even orgasmic breath is not reality.Reality?
Perhaps there is no word, no reason to explode
in to the fleshy fold...betrayal, then,
of what we thinkwe hold. A hand, a cupping
of a massy breast,a gentle hand to steer us does massy mean big or large?
when we cross a road;the solid thump of glass
upon the ale-house baror cold, cold ice
that points and drops from guttered rooves. should it be roofs, i know it used to be rooves which i find more pleasing
All this is but illusion like the wind; that blows in  trees,
that carries from the string a melody, music most profound. lovely line, why is it lovely, it's lovely because it's a bit tingly when read.
Surely this, this vibratory score, this tear induced to fall, and another.
this heightened sense of what it is to feel....is real?
But no...we are a quantum field. Matter mattering so little
as to not disturb the passage or the vectored time.
We war and love and kill and thrill and die and hurt,
we make-believe and fantasise, we dream our dreams
inside another self; not sharing what we need not share
nor caring when we need not care, not loving
when we have no need to love...and yet, and yet,
we think ourselves in to a world, a time and space continuum,
a framework where such wild beliefs support the thought
that we are here. Where, though, is here?
And am in or out  of you, as you are but a part of me...
a timeless, tangled, twisting string
that holds the phantoms in a ring,
captured in the...

tectak2016

Thanks billy...this one is constipatory. I have made a few changes...difficult when once again my cursor keys have failed ...it happened about a year ago last time. "Massy" gone as it emphasised size rather than sensuality. Some grammatical correction, too. Roofs/rooves? Should be roofs, I know, but like you I like rooves and it is still correct though outdated. This one is year ender for me. I will tinker with it, though, as I hope it could be for any year end.
Very best to you and yours...and a great new year. Onwards ever onwards

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I so like this poem.
It grabs me and takes me on a many layered journey.

As I thought, it seems we are not really here at all;
phantoms, ephemeral and empty of all we think we are.  ....I kinda don't feel great about your opening lines,
 maybe it's their philosophical head-space.  It's nihilistic premise.
The loves we have, the music in our lives,
cheese, wine and thrills of falling, pounding headaches,.........love the juxtapositions
sensuality...even orgasmic breath is not reality.Reality? .............maybe the orgasm is the only reality...the dying moment?
Perhaps there is no word, no reason to explode
in to the fleshy fold...betrayal, then,
of what we thinkwe hold. A hand, a cupping.............Who betrays who? I don't like the God/me/Universe victim thing. The concept is done to death.
of a massy breast, a gentle hand to steer us
when we cross a road; the solid thump of glass
upon the ale-house bar or cold, cold ice
that points and drops from guttered rooves..................wonderful tactile imagery! 'rooves'?
All this is but illusion like the wind; that blows in  trees,............the premise and conclusion here is a non-sequitur surely?
that carries from the string a melody, music most profound.
Surely this, this vibratory score, this tear induced to fall,
this heightened sense of what it is to feel....is real?................Getting a little talky and rhetorical.
But no...we are a quantum field. Matter mattering so little
as to not disturb the passage of the vectored time.
We war and love and kill and thrill and die and hurt,
we make-believe and fantasise, we dream our dreams
inside another self; not sharing what we need not share
nor caring when we need not care, not loving
when we have no need to love...and yet, and yet,  .....I'm a glass half full person myself, but I get where you're going with this.
we think ourselves in to a world, a time and space continuum,
a framework where such wild beliefs support the thought
that we are here. Where, though, is here?
And am in or out  of you, as you are but a part of me...
a timeless, tangled, twisting string
that holds the phantoms in a ring,
captured in the... ..this is too like your last line, but feel you need more subjective visual clues for the reader to feel he/she is not just being told.

tectak2016

Some great picturing and interesting musing going on here. My niggles are considerably less than my praise.

Thanks sparky,
I hear you. See the small edits. Only issue which  is of critical importance to me is the god delusion. I didn't see his mythical form in the piece and that certainly was intentional. I don't do god and hope he won't do me.
very best,
tectak