Fell back when I heard the rumble,
tell me when something was louder.
Pastel thunderstorms pack a punch,
dispel lightning at that shouter!
Scarce remix born of fire and hail
flares as the sunset’s descending.
Repairs won’t work on broken trust,
there’s no palette for pretending.
My heart was racing madly.
Trembling with fear walking down midnight streets.
Calling on my guardian angel.
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Tears silently spill from the corners of my eyes
I reach out to get a tissue
The box sits empty
So many boxes now part of the earth
The same earth that I would like to give you
A resting place
A place of honour
Instead you are in a jar in the cabinet
I see you through the glass door
But my mind plays tricks on me
To truly acknowledge that it’s you
Would be too final
I get better at pretending
That you have moved across the ocean
On a tiny island without technology
The only way you appear
Is in a form of a beautiful butterfly
Fragile
Elegant
Vibrant
Putting a smile on my face
I will come to visit
Real soon
As I follow the beautiful butterfly
From inside these closed doors.
I sail away from these old shores.
And walk on down those streets of gold.
Pretending I’m still young and not too old.
But when tomorrow takes away today.
It leaves you finding it hard to stray.
With air too still to fill your lungs.
And no backup band to get the song sung.
And if someone would see your thoughts.
They’d surly in the twisted wires get caught.
At least that’s how it’s been in past tense.
Misconstrued, it just doesn’t make any sense.
Am I so removed that my opinion’s disproved?
Lost in the void of an unrealistic existence approved.
Looking back into a past review’d.
Longing for a chance to make things renewed.
Each morning drifts like mist—
soft, uncertain,
but somewhere in its hush,
I feel the weight
of something turning dark nearby.
I once imagined
this place would be still,
that the walls would not echo
with things unsaid.
But peace, it seems,
is not something we always share.
Patterns repeat—
whispers circling like wind in a cage.
The days loop like shadows
on the same old path,
a wheel that spins
but never arrives.
Solitude sings a softer song.
There, I breathe.
There, I unfold
without needing to bend
for anyone's gaze.
Some birds only perch
when the branch gives them fruit.
They vanish with the silence
and forget the hands
that sheltered them from the storm.
So I walk—
quietly,
gratefully,
far from noise that pretends to care.
And I hold the light
only I can carry.
I run after a shadow,
not quite mine,
but one I want to be.
Perfect in my eyes,
not so perfect in others’.
Trying to change
because of judgment
you’d never expect.
In fact, it is true
people whisper and hate.
But years will pass,
and they will learn
their own flaws
are just as clear.
We all chase shadows,
sometimes close enough,
but some dreams
aren’t meant to catch
and that’s how we grow.
One day,
realization hits
and you finally see
how perfect you are.
Judgment comes and goes,
but you live once,
so ignore the flaws
others create,
So, become the better version
only you can be.
I slept through the apocalypse
I woke up and all that was intact was me
My parents are gone
And as I look outside...
Nothing is left.
All that's left is me
The sky is gold
And the sun won't shine
The clouds are wisps of magic
The flowers debloom
Becoming bushes of thorns
Breaking the illusion of delicacy
Butterflies hurl themselves at the glass,
Ravenous, winged things with unspoken fury
And the stars rush towards the ground
Leaving silvery dust as it crashes to the earth
And I realize
There is silence
Without the rest of my kind
And I realize
The earth was pretending for us
And I realize
The only part of humanity left
Is me
Pretending
He was good at pretending
He manipulated to get his way
She was hopelessly in love with him
Until she started to see through
The lies, the schemes, the shady deeds
He was all about money, all about the green
Yet because her pockets were empty
He couldn’t take anything from her
So he turned her into a Belle captured in his domain
He did what he could to keep her away from the world
To combat him and his pretending
She decided to reflect the energy he was sharing
For when she started to treat him like he treated her
That is when his anger began to fly
He expected her to weep, to cry, to plead as he told her goodbye
Now he sits, his glass of Fireball nearly forgotten
Wondering how she had gotten so strong
Wondering how she had learned to see him for what he was
He longs for something that he can never make right, nor can he ever escape
As even when he drives through town, he sees her and what once was
Now he searches for her in everyone he meets
Yet he will never find what he pretended not to care about
And wonders why he can’t stop pretending.
What they condemn publicly
They secretly admire
What they despise publicly
They secretly respect
They're so deceiving
Acting cunning and it's not funny.
They're so crispy
Very and always crafty
Attaining anything with deceit
Always trampling on another
They're very cunning
Pretending to be authentic
Even when their intentions ain't genuine.
They're so cunning
Forgetting the companion
They're always after substances
Causing chaos
Whenever they don't get it
Steadily brainwashing any
Just to use, ruin and rule over them.
I'm looking back in time, it
doesn't strike me straight away
I'm too intrigued to see those
faces once again. A small group
of six apparently happy relatives
posed on a hilltop somewhere
with aerial view of fields behind.
With all the knowledge I have
it occurs to me that these smiles
they wear were really masks
and beneath were the concerns
of holding their individual
loves and lives together.
Each of us are doing that each
and every second of a day.
Four of the six have passed on:
But not before their bodies
were aged and weakened
simply by being alive.
It is a strange path we tread
from oblivion to oblivion,
and along the way we might
be captured in some nanosecond
of time in a photograph, where
we bravely put on a smile
as if we are comfortable and
know what it is actually all about.
Have a happy new year folks.
© Griffonner 2024
Simultaneity
Of life and death
A story of not two..
A story because
Words are stories
Implying separation..
The story pretends
To express that which
Cannot be expressed..
Including these words...
Pretending...
Why
pretending mostly ?
" I'm okay,
you're okay
is a mask in the land
of pretend,
"he said.
some people hide
they lives situations to avoid
some gossipers
and blackmailers
who have big mouths
and evil hearts.
sometimes some trusted
people change
after small arguments
and share some privacies
of their old friends or colleagues
with the new ones which is dangerous.
Some people can live with scars
and scare to share
with some friends because
of no trust anymore.
Shared many times
Bitten many times
Suffered many times
Healed many times.
No need of mask
as tongues stuck
to the roof of mouths.
No people have PVC hearts
reason why some folks
always die by Blood Pressure
on this planet Earth.
It is just an open truth,
Don't allow pressure
To push you to drink from hell
As long as there is a free holy well...
called ," Jesus Christ the Truth on Earth."
a gorgeous Eiffel tower is in the background of Peachtree Boulevard
We know it is not THE Eiffel tower, but it is amazing to see anyway
Atlanta Georgia has a flair all her own, her desserts are legend.
Hostas, foxglove, azaleas and wisteria trees line this piece of heaven.
I am lured into a pretty café with crepe myrtle trees and daisies.
The greeting is straight from the south “how ya’ll do’n?”
Beignets are brought to my table before I order.
Just a little something to tide you over, honey.
Yes, they still call you honey here, and it feels okay.
Other customers begin arriving in twos and threes.
I get out my novel and pretend to read,
Missing nothing, but pretending to miss everything
plotting my next six poems around strangers’ conversations.
I began faking a smile at 10
Although I never cried in front of others, I stopped showing all feelings
By age 12 my friend began self harm
Thinking about it was as far as I ever got
To be honest the only reason I never got beyond the thought was my brother
By age 14 I moved away from everyone I loved yet continued to "be okay"
It was becoming more and more difficult to contain the breakdowns when there was no longer things to take away
What used to help me is no longer of interest because I was told that it made me worse.
I catered to everyone around me and didn't want to try anymore
When I met him I expected him to leave and when he didn't I got attached
Trusting people and talking about my home was something I stopped by age 13
Everything was improving and then it came crashing down.
At age 15 I started starving myself because it made me thinner
Now I'm halfway to 16 and have decided that I am done pretending
If everyone that made me this way won't apologize then neither will I
Being able to trick everyone else was a skill but perhaps, I also fell victim to the mask.
Stop pretending
your racism is patriotism
Stop pretending
your sexism is natural
Stop pretending
your homophobia
is healthy heterosexuality
Stop pretending
your evangelical orthodoxy
isn't xenophobia
Stop pretending
your traumatic patriarchalism
doesn't justify
and sanctify
therapeutic womanism
Stop pretending
your monotheism
isn't,
once the veil of dualism is lifted,
predative anthro-supremacism.
Try remembering
that silent gifts,
like grace,
and redemption from hypocrisy,
are a lifetime healthcare process,
co-redemptive journey,
dance into integrity
compassion
pleasure
curiosity.
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.