Irony of non-existence (new title and edit)

[Sparkydashforth]

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.