Divine Moments of Truth

[Universalchild]

Well, at least this is cheerful.

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Within this euphoric labyrinth I am lost,
wondering at the boundaries crossed,
peering through the broken looking glass,
as inside its jagged shards I pass,
filled with purest light beneath my skin,
while my own reflection shines within.

Watching the feathered rainbows swirl,
as tricksy shadows play and twirl,
such are the patterns of my eyes, deceived,
what bright imagination, fairy-child conceived
etching memories stitched in chemical vision,
a curious place only the mad envision.

Every smile soothes as we are awoken,
empathy amplifies into love unspoken,
pleasantly we melt together, one being,
yet we don't feel trapped, instead it is freeing,
the shift of our world so subtle and delightful,
forget that truth can be twisted and spiteful.

Birch leaves rustle softly, sounding like rain,
casting dappled shades that soon shimmer again.
Wind from a hornet's wing beat astounds me,
as wood smoke and ash transform all that I see.
We fill our cups with laughter, a grand toast to be made,
with only our love and our wild thought displayed.

[penguin]

Well, at least this is cheerful.

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Who says the drugs don't work. Though I wouldn't be calling any poem Divine Moments of Truth. You're just asking to be stoned.
Anyway, I messed with your poem a bit, mostly trying to improve the rhythm. There are several lines whose length causes a bump in reading.

Within this labyrinth I am lost,
wondering at the boundaries crossed,
peering through broken looking glass,
as inside its jagged shards I pass,
filled with purest light beneath my skin,
while my own reflection shines within.

I'd lose euphoric in the first line, rolls off the tongue easier.And I'd think about what the final 2 lines are really saying.

Watching the feathered rainbows swirl,
as tricksy shadows play and twirl,
such are the patterns of eyes, deceived,
by bright imaginings, child conceived;
memories stitched in chemical vision,
an odd place only the mad envision.

I messed around with it just to try and aid the flow.

Every smile soothes as we are awoken,
empathy grows into love unspoken,
pleasantly we melt together, one being,
yet we don't feel trapped, instead it is freeing,
the shift to a world of subtle delight,
forgetting truth can be twisted spite.

amplifies seems too long a word."pleasantly" is very bland!

Birch leaves rustle softly, sounding like rain,
casting dappled shades that soon shimmer again.
Wind from a hornet's wing beat astounds,
as wood smoke and ash transform all around.
We fill our cups with laughter, a grand toast to be made,
with only our love and our wild thought displayed.

[Universalchild]

Divine Moments of Truth = DMT which is a hallucinogen, which is what the poem is about, definitely not getting stoned, haha. On the last two lines of stanza 1, the first line is me trying to explain what it feels like... It honestly feels like you are full of sunlight. Like glowing and pure. It's kind of hard to explain the inner feelings of tripping ;p The visuals are easier to talk about. And the final line of it is essentially me saying that you are being true to yourself rather then just acting out, but maybe it's phrased too clumsily. I'll probably give that part an edit.

Pleasantly is a good word for it though... Here I'm describing a different kind of tripping. It's a very mild anethetized sensation. It lacks excitement, but is like a deep contentment.

Thanks for all the suggestions, will take what you have said into consideration.

[rowens]

I think of this that I heard somewhere before, "In the '60s people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird, so people take Prozac to make it seem normal."---Certain things can be considered about the world, regarding that.---
And I think 'euphoric' and 'empathy' and 'pleasantly' are important aspects of the subject, if not as the simple terms themselves as they are used here. That euphoric lending agent in some of these drugs makes a great difference in the types of trips, and the "full of sunlight" empathy, and sense of togetherness. Imagine a trip without the anethetized sensation.
The poem does a good job voicing the pleasant, yet mild, elements of the experience. I want to read it again, and to talk about the poem itself, if I can. But now I'm being thrown out of this house.

[Philatone]

hello universal

i have a fair number of suggestions. See if any would work for you

Well, at least this is cheerful.

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Within this euphoric labyrinth I am lost,...the length of this line makes it clunky. "euphoric labyrinth" is a mouthful
wondering at the boundaries crossed,...I couldn't help wondering if this were supposed to the "wandering"; the preposition "at" doesn't feel right to me, but maybe that's just a language thing
peering through the broken looking glass,
as inside its jagged shards I pass,...not sure if this sentence needs to be inverted like it is. the rhyme feels forced because of it
filled with purest light beneath my skin,...."purest' usually has a "the" in front of it
while my own reflection shines within.

Watching the feathered rainbows swirl,...interesting image
as tricksy shadows play and twirl,
such are the patterns of my eyes, deceived,...again, the sentence is inverted to keep the rhyme
what bright imagination, fairy-child conceived
etching memories stitched in chemical vision,
a curious place only the mad envision....not the biggest fan of "vision...envision"

Every smile soothes as we are awoken,
empathy amplifies into love unspoken,...really liked the vowel sounds of this line
pleasantly we melt together, one being,
yet we don't feel trapped, instead it is freeing,
the shift of our world so subtle and delightful,
forget that truth can be twisted and spiteful....this bit is extremely abstract; there is little for a reader to relate to, hold, or imagine

Birch leaves rustle softly, sounding like rain, ...great image to start with; can you find a slightly stronger comparison than "like rain"?
casting dappled shades that soon shimmer again.
Wind from a hornet's wing beat astounds me,...need "beat"?
as wood smoke and ash transform all that I see.
We fill our cups with laughter, a grand toast to be made,
with only our love and our wild thought displayed.

my biggest suggestions are: try to avoid the passive voice (e.g. "The ball was thrown" is not as strong as "I throw the ball")

and, when making a rhyming poem, try not to sacrifice content just to make a rhyme. it hurts the piece and makes lines feel forced, contrived, and awkward to read.

good images interspersed throughout this

[rowens]

The rhymes do limit this poem. New rhymes could produce something very different. You can try that. Or you can try another form.
And you can still tinker around with what you already have.
Something like:

Within this euphoric labyrinth, lost,
Wondering at the boundaries crossed.
Peering through a looking glass,
Inside its jagged shards I pass.
Purest light has filled my skin.
My own reflection shines within.

.....................