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These are the emperors of illusion
growers of the palace of mirrors
- hear their feet, the walking waterfalls
the original shroud-wearing ghosts
said to prefer inhabiting hills
and to spook cattle and sheep into hollows
sometimes no bigger than a burial mound
but capable of covering a continent.
Put out your tongue - be hit
by a flying cold nail, or surprised
by a child's quick kiss. Walk
inside their bodies
while they puncture the scents in flower heads
begonias and roses,
shelter under the ripening plum tree
then come out - know the thigmotic creature
said to be your own projection
- walk around the transformed garden.
Hardly more than breath you say.
True, yet daily the weight of a forest falls
with the noise-level of oceans
cracking at your windows
changing their clothes
as easily as metaphors
those restless geographies
- those unnamed hills.

Certainly full of original and thought-provoking imagery. However, the disjointed nature of the images keeps the reader from a clear through-line and it is difficult to ascertain just what the poem is attempting to describe. If the idea is simply to rely on the obvious strength of the poem, that is, the striking pictures it paints, perhaps they could be broken up into smaller pieces and presented individually.
Cyril May

I loved this poem, I was transfixed from the first to the last word, I was transported to a land beyond this earth while reading this poem.....I really loved this, well written
Anna Brown

The Stig Geiger Page

Emperors of Illusion

by Stig Geiger

Stig Geiger is a Swedish member, comes from Stockholm, and has asked for comments on his poem.