There long ago was soul,
Daring and bold,
Who shifted more weight than was told.
They made available themselves props
For the battles they immobilized and noticed
Their power taking hold.
Give yourself props, don't delay
You've achieved every step of your way.
When you delay and take heed
You'll see your own bull's eye
Has carried you day after day.
"Give yourself props, don't be reserved-
You endured what they swore you'd deny.
When you stop and take note of the strife you
Out-wrote
You'll see you're the reason you fly
Give yourself props- funny thing
How we clap for the minuscule of wins.
But the truth that you miss is you've
Interacted all this-
With grace that deserves violins.
PLEASE OPEN THE STRAIT
THESE SHIPMENTS ARE GETTING LATE
IRAN SAYS JUST WAIT
Much like the emptying of womb
Each time a mother gives birth
Increase in disasters and violence
Act as catalysts to cleanse the Earth
Many want to cling to safety
The smooth rhythm of waters around
Provision offered in waves
Without abrupt noise of unanchored sound
Along around the seventh month
Warning signals tense and flex
Preparing through unwanted movement
That strengthens muscles to pass the test
Resistance is futile against tide
Yet the unaligned will pull and resist
When birthing time arrives
The baby is found in an emergency twist
Many worlds have come and gone
The survivors are the lining of the wall
Memories are wiped each time
But new waters have helped them recall
...we are not from here
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-16-2026
Here in front of me.
Beautiful art is amply found in nature.
Slow down to notice & appreciate.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 3rd place 2026
With one breath I decelerate my world.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
As he soundly sleeps,
at the bottom of the heap,
take notice of the flapjack
on the downside of your stack,
and the syrup that might seep,
so profound, so deep.
It’s the admiration in my eyes,
It’s your beauty that ignites that look.
For a moment, I pause
Not as though I’ve seen a ghost,
But caught in the thought
Of how lucky a man I am.
I’m simply someone amazed
Every time I look at her, it feels like the first.
That look, like I’ve been starved of light,
Unaware of it myself,
Yet she always notices.
Maybe it’s not just how I look at her,
But how we look at each other.
There’s fire in our eyes,
Sparks when they meet,
A quiet war between desire and tenderness.
You may wonder what it is that I see,
Beauty beyond measure?
Perhaps.
But more than that,
I see a reflection of love looking back at me,
And in her eyes, I understand
Why the beholder never looks away.
Over thinkers notice everything—
The tremor in a Tone—
The Shadow slipping off a Word
Before the Word is known—
They hear the Silence breathe between
The footfall and the Floor—
They read the Weather in a Glance
And know the Storm before—
They count the Seconds others spend
In careless, bright Release—
While holding Universes still
Inside the clasp of Peace—
To speak would break the fragile Thread
That binds what Must be known—
So Meaning wears a quieter Dress
And walks the Mind alone—
The Loud believe the Quiet blind—
Yet Sight is sharpest there—
For those who notice Everything
Have learned the cost of Air—
And choose, with lips like folded Wings,
To guard what Words would burn—
They carry Worlds—they alter none—
They See—yet never Turn—
Slow your breath to calm
pause stop relax to still your mind
conjure your dream vacation place
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
We were once rivers,
braiding through each other’s lives,
carving valleys of shared wonder.
Now we float in bubbles,
soft-walled sanctuaries of sameness,
drifting past one another
with eyes turned inward.
The more we seal our edges,
the less we feel the ripple,
of another’s breath.
The complete loss of naivety doesn’t necesseraly lead
To cynicism cause it would be too dramatic
Its just a usual way of life
As it is, no naivety, no cynicism
Though you’d like to have them in stock
Just in case you’d need some of it again
But the problem is, sellers are gone
Those good sellers, who could get anything you wanted
Some of them have become state officials
Others have converted to Buddhism
And a few have delved deep into the sweet dullness
Of privacy in the countryside homes
But sooner or later you realize
That you own them for free
Naivety and cynicism
Absolutely like new, here they are
Well shaped, exquisitely elegant
With a little leaf on the ends
Looking exactly like the earrings we bought you last summer
You can wear them again, why not
No one will notice, what these items are
They’d only see the earrings.
deportation statements during time
observe pulitzer worthy escape by decree ego
overlap
deportation of "homeless immigrants"
census fraud
is not a measure of goverment in california
re segregated aggregated data is not a constitutional law
being held
deportation hmis
creation of absence ballots in population control ownership agenda's
They don't want you
To elevate without them
Even when they're not supportive.
They know your history,
Victory and glory; so they want to be part of it
They always want to be part of your glowing
But not part of the suffering and criticisms.
They want to partake in your glory and victory
Even when they don't know the story
They always watching, while you do the working
Then come in, when you start earning.
If they can't do or have it;
They won't let you, rather they disrupt it.
Be the game changer not the fighter
Never let them chain or tame you
Vibrate higher, so you can fly higher
Liberating yourself from toxic people.
People ruin good things or people,
If they can't have it or be one.
Raise your game highest and tightest
So mediocre people can't participate in it.
He is not someone you bump into on the road and fail to notice,
he is the one whose presence you feel in the empty corridors he traversed,
he doesn't wear the falsehood of a feigned smile on his lips,
but sews his bleeding truths onto the contours of his soul.
He won't accuse you of gazing too long at his flawless face or measured steps,
he is not the subject of the town's empty chatter, but the whisper that slips into shadows,
he is an ordinary person who hates attention, too hesitant to meet your gaze,
he doesn't care about appearances or the silent knives that wound his back.
He is someone you all know,
he is someone you all judge.
He remains an enigma revealed only in the silence between heartbeats,
a story that stretches like an echo among the cold walls of indifference,
a presence that asks nothing but leaves a deep mark in the silence it touches,
a soul weaving its path amid gazes that lack the courage to see.
two hundred tremors
in forty eight hour span
greece is on notice
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.