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Steve Page Jun 2022
I breath in to find my inner Geezer
ready to speak with a more common vernacular.
I channel my South Londoner
and ensure I have my chipped mugs
ready out on the counter.

I pull the Nescafe and PG Tips forward
from the dusty recesses of the top cupboard
and locate the white sugar, checking that I have
at least five heaped teaspoons’ worth
for the coming encounter.

Later, from behind the net curtains,
I see him sizing up my roof from his van
and I wait for him to walk up the drive to push the doorbell.

And, too late, what credibility I had pieced together cringes
at the anticipation of the Batman themed doorbell ring,
which until that morning had seemed an appropriate ice breaker.
Arvon writers retreat.  An exercise on describing an invited stranger in the house.
John McCafferty Sep 2021
Face set and hands met off the clock, innocence is often lost as seconds drop.
Our magic stirs but it's strength can fade, so in retrospect why ever expect better.

A middle ground of careless selfishness, when failure is an automated pretense. The real fault in our aims for success, not of ourselves but ignoring those with less.

Time is short, decisions often compromised, death will soon swing by to take your eyes. Without a single disregard for who you are, to choose yourself above all others on par.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
dilshé Aug 2021
Intensely in disguise
A sheep in wolf skin
fear present in the eyes
reflects an inflaming sting.
Striding in the night
despite being nyctophobic
says uncertainty is delight
while being atelophobic.
Hoping this sheath of confidence
would seep into the core
'fake it till you make it '
the nagging quote we all adore.
Part of me already knows that
The promises you make are empty
They bare no meaning
Yet I hold on to something
A sliver of hope
I turn away from the truth
The hope I feel is my own delusion
An illusion I create to save myself
Kept in the dark crevices of my mind
I throw myself deeper into the false pretense
and dig myself my own grave once more
Stuck in a reverie of my own, I let myself sink in own mind, pushing myself more into myself. I’m my own demise.
Take this with a grain of salt, if this makes you think of yourself by all means think of that. Just something I need to get out of my own system.
Laokos Apr 2021
~every distance is a long shot
within reach of a fool
                          Prv. 𝑓:𝑦

bleed your heart out in dripping
poetic pretense―slip
that inky salamander some silk:

         "the wilting waiting flora
bequeathed their busting bouquets and
     bountiful bosoms unto the world
              in all of its prescient

then read it back to yourself
later and be
absolutely disgusted.

throw it away with all the other
things you've done in your

now reach back in your closet
and rattle the skeletons
lingering there.

finger your dreams in the
dark under pressure
from the mind
to find yourself.

the lightning severance
will sing and
anxiety will
harmonize with the knife.

you've done it again...
****** it all up
and everyone
knows it.

you could eat all the erasers
in the world
and your **** still
wouldn't come out correct.

a lifetime of valleys and
seawalls has made you
an avatar of
effortless blunder.

and you can't stop bleeding
all over the page; white
is red again
you blue it.

bleed in―breathe out
breathe in―bleed out
bleed in―breathe out
breathe in―
bleed out...

welcome to the creative
Ash Dec 2020
Called out your name
For just a couple of moments,
You were still here
Stared into the quiet
Conversations in our minds
Laughter in our souls
Then the world turned
And the sun set
The seconds are over
And so, you left us.
wrote this on the day after my grandfather passed. for a few seconds i forgot he was gone, and called for him from my desk, thinking he would answer from his rocking chair. for the quickest of the second before i remembered, i could swear he was still there.
Vanessa Goyal Aug 2020
Frightened of the way,
The volume of burden piles higher.
Scraping the skies;
Reaching into the underground.
Trying to fit the position,
Of the needle inside me.
Growing smaller with each bend in its body,
That sacrifices the human behind the machine.
Submerged under the surface;
Hidden beneath the facade,
Of the critters that sculpt honor
Into the frame of my face.
Harvesting acceptance and pride from others,
Who define one look as the truth of pretense.
Blinding eyes from the girl that once lived.
Lulu Sarmiento Jul 2020
Broken glass.
Shattered dreams.
Defeated game.
Crumbling inside.
Yet you smile—
And say “I’m okay.”
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