Long Pretence Poems
Long Pretence Poems. Below are the most popular long Pretence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pretence poems by poem length and keyword.
See senses swing
Taut tensile things
Word wonder well
Spread sanguine spell
Time tunnels tense
Seek subtle sense
Ply precious play
Sweet summer strays
Loud laughter leaps
Proud pretence peeps
Claim clever clout
Pose pretty pout
Perchance prompt pay
Storm simple sway
Gloomy grime grey
Misty moods may
Wonder words well
Boom buys bright bell
Free frosty feel
Hurl happy hay
By briskly brook
Lift lasting looks
Charm crispy cheer
Niche nurtures near
End echoes etch
Save succinct sketch
Note nasty nude
Cute clam ours crude
Frame fleeting flame
Toil tussles tame
Leon Enriquez
13 October 2016
Singapore
in all it's utter wonderment
i under imaginary pretence
a nocturnal creature stalking images
of the one my readings have made
but prosperity is her blessing
and princess clothings are her dressings
making her far above poor me
my prayer was for conformanity
but so far it was for naught
constant prayers God forgot
yet tis me who this misery
is brought
the times for her i've often sought
i stare in the distance at her walk
the nonchalant way she waves her hands
walking pretending to lead
a parade and band
spreading a happiness so contagious
it brighten the hopes
of a certian man
at time's i walk near her
for an innocent parle
praying that my pulsating heart
does'nt give me away
Dr. Cupid recomends
one dose a day
the eyes that let you see the soul
the lips that could never ever grow cold
of the rhythem and tenderness
of her voice
a representation of God's annointed choice
giving to man a gift of love
for we all share her
with eyes and ears
back to the parle
"How are you today?"
"Fine."
"It's a beautiful day."
"This dreary rainy day?"
"Yeah, I love rainy weather."
truth is there was no weather
as far as i was concerned
my only concern
"is Sandra there?"
"was Alexandra going to be there?"
i've been lot's of places
thinking she'd be there
saddened to find out
she was not
in all it's utter wonderment
and my imaginary pretence
a peasant loving a princess
at best
eyes and imagination
secretly blessed
Ah King Kane.. you’ve done it again
Heavenly humility hums on a simply higher plane..
Angelic ability strums..curious necks studious crane
Classical charms forever waver but won’t wistfully wane
Professorial textbook tutorials..clever rhapsodies of restrain
Classy but never brassy..balletic lullabies of lyrical refrain
Dizzying dedication..insane..education.. epiphanies explain how to train
Eureka seeker...aurora explorer..yielded iconic pedagogic logic..
Willow wielded wonders sprinkled with sparkle…
Heroic champagne campaign shielded possible debacle..
Kane stoic no pretence…venerates poetic defence…purringly prophetic
Guiles..wiles.. bewitch…bamboozling composure..silky smooth aesthetic
Was it just a jest…Smithy did suggest …Kane’s last ever test
No more communions…timber timbre tickles..more highlights than Bucks Fizz reunions
Elan fans wish…our Lord of the Rings on the pitch across the ditch.. baggy green disdain
Stratospheric.. slayed & flayed by a Sorcerer’s blade
Precision magician…traditional technician
Mesmeric mercurial master…history made
The last post gong sounds like a love song
Ah Captain Kane you’ve only gone and done it again
My mind searches for results,
Often at multiple times a day, like a dictionary, one may say.
I ask to define depth,
Something I can get stuck in for hours,
Whirl pooling blues, greys, even greens,
And just the odd streak of brown,
And endless darkness at the centre.
It’s something I am willing to search for again and again.
I ask to define soft,
Rougher edges of a pretence of harshness,
Melanin and melanin-lacking hay carved so imperfectly,
It tells me that I would sink within it if I were to indulge in you,
I shake my head and red appears when I do so.
I ask to define perfection,
And I receive nothing.
I ask to define target,
A framework for what we should all be,
Tender kindness that I am reminded of so often,
Unending ambition that I look forward to with a sickening sigh,
As your silhouette is what I have received.
It tells me to pursue you,
Something I will never do, but entertaining the thought is not so bad.
Your eyes, your softness, you.
That is the result of perfection, or what I know it as.
A little hidden, beautiful, and tranquil aquarium
With an amazing view of the subterranean dome.
The ache may be the sign of worsening emotion,
From a little city where the rogues are at home.
With a fearful thrill of the coming unknown,
Moments long for, stand out but hide its face,
Behind a painted parade, I note the obvious tone,
where love in mockery is the dream of anguish.
In what other life it lives, and have known the heart,
That moved the shivering lips into silent refusal.
No cruel curses heard what inner voices blew out,
In predatory chase energy process, the potential.
Becoming friends unaware of the foxy danger,
Striving with that romantic short-sighted sense.
The gate to escape is hidden by the breathless hour,
Seeking safety but meet walls in towers of defence.
In the people flies the pestilence, fogy defiance.
Against deep penetration lay the silent barriers.
The poor are brought lower by the mesh of lace,
Striped, and passed through eyelets as travellers.
Rather go in rows safely beneath the earth disk,
Rogues know the secret that they cannot disclose.
The winds which bring risk blow where they list,
Death knows nothing of the pretence when it goes.
Despite your intelligence mimicry,
You still come far short in your gimmickry,
Throwing down the drains fine masterpieces,
Flushed away as a fresh bout of faeces.
Nights without sleep to pen wonders on sheet,
Yet a lame detector brands one a cheat,
An app claiming to be a true genius ~
Is far from being labeled ingenious.
How long will your pretence rule human minds,
Before you're swept off by the southern winds,
That your charade may stop to fool the world,
And your foolishness may at last unfurl.
Strange how your fanbase keeps on increasing,
Even the most smart, you're daily fleecing,
These cursed detectors come in many brands,
Some free – yet some charge dollars and rands.
I'm amazed you didn't claim this was by you,
This bitter pill, your pride has had to chew,
But that won't stop me from calling you out,
To nip in the bud your infamous clout.
I had to lie, so you could love,
To weave a tapestry of deceit, a masquerade to rise above.
A facade of wealth, a disguise of pride,
To hide the truth, and let your heart be my guide.
What if you knew I didn't have a dime,
Would you still hold my hand, or turn away in time?
I borrowed smiles, and wore a mask of ease,
To conceal the tears, and the heart that beats with disease.
I tried everything, to catch your eye,
Sleepless nights, and fasting days, to prove my love would never die.
I lied about my past, my present, and my name,
To fit into the mold, of the one you'd love to claim.
It's hard to grasp, the love you truly desire,
When the one you love, loves someone else's fire.
It's no longer love, but a game of pride,
Where appearances deceive, and hearts divide.
I had to lie, to show you a different me,
A reflection of what I thought you'd see.
But what if you knew, I was just a humble soul,
A cattle herder, a garden boy, with a heart that's whole?
Would you still love me, for who I am?
Or would you turn away, and whisper "no, not this man"?
I know I don't have much, but would that stop me from loving true?
Or would it make me love, with a depth that's new?
I had to lie, but now I'm free,
To be myself, and let my true heart be.
For love that's built on lies, is a love that's lost its way,
And I'll find my own way, to a love that's real, and here to stay.
She saw my grief behind hesitant smile,
Love behind rage that spilled some wrathful bile,
A child’s pretence hind a put-on profile,
And saw honesty under my raw guile.
She loved me for being more than a friend,
Around home a readily helping hand,
A resort close by, not on far island—
Resort, her tired soul wherein loved to mend.
Too bad, two kindred souls when get married,
The friendship of friends seldom gets carried
To be a husband or wife much harried,
Rare still, the old love gets all but buried.
And what happens to former loving friends?
Maybe, as husband, well, the man husbands.
_____________________________________
Sonnet |44.12.2020| friends, marriage
Poet’s note: Is it the expectations of give and take that makes a mighty difference? This sonnet opts to end with a flippant tongue-in-cheek end, but it does hint at a likely root cause.
Dear Miss,
conception and function
are conceived when connection
and direction are treated with
correct judgement and perception.
So when you go a miss,
I'll talk to silence,
in the quietness,
I guess I'll make sense
when I'm silent in pretence.
But do you Miss -
When I am gone (ing),
will I be taken,
to understand or understood,
or led astray - again.
Is it spell or spelt?
Or will I be your biggest 'take?'
Or have you 'took' it wrong?
My heart will lose its 'use' and 'shape.'
But when there is nothing spoken miss -
who will remain as 'out.'
Hope this will be read to inform..
"Fata Morgana"
feet hardly touch the ocean
when silent stars of no voice
transmit words to pay the ferryman
on the water no reflection
gently the sun waves smiling as if to say
feel that, the warmth of waking sleep
no fear of what remains hidden
it will unravel from inside that which is all too deep
walking towards you across the briny mist
from ancient stories forgotten
a halo of St Elmo’s Fire surrounds
it stands still for a short while before you
watching
you,
walking water with your bare feet
faith in dreams consistent in their constancy
that visit you when you are complete yet incomplete
holds out its hand to lead the way across
sharp burning rocks, now a desert, climbing mountains that are steep
a small life crumbles to powdered sand
more than 40 days silent gone astray
years the turning of untimed tides pretence
meets a haunting vision beckoning, new horizon, odd unclear
safe harbour left long ago,
lost in that ornery time, cursed by flying monkeys' bellows
of bloodletting and betrayal, stock still, standing amidst the shallows
somewhere along the way dark narcissus followed
what breaks over the bow
washes all stern fear away
sacred wings of albatross
ne’er to be sacrificed, no more night nor day
souls of ancient mariners
forever follow me, even when I stray
the rich baritone of bedtime stories
messages in code conveyed, I hear them still today
now swallows spooning spinnakers
running directly before wind and sea
the water turns to wine, much stranger the belief,
all manna of trust it feeds
bells tolling
no man’s an island entire of itself
in unusual reckonings
observing swimming hearts, that hear and see
the eyes that melt, this more curiously
in truth, the dream defends
messages eternal
life it never ends
tides move in and out
never alone when we begin
fata morgana
softly the moon ascends
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
VCB
Lux Vitae
5.5.10
"Under a splintered mast,
torn from ship and cast
near her hull,
a stumbling shepherd found
embedded in the ground,
a sea-gull
of lapis lazuli,
a scarab of the sea,
with wings spread—
curling its coral feet,
parting its beak to greet
men long dead."
("Talisman", Marianne Moore)