I can never pipette out silence into a beaker of words, it'll be colourless and invisible, it'll show no change untill I use my voice as a catalyst to tell how silence for me is like mercury in sea that saturates at the bottom of my stomach. It'll help me to impregnate my effervescent emotions back into my blood, until I find my chest burdening by not letting off meteors that in my sky are struck.
I can never tell the taste of silence but I've been wondering lately about the ingredients that lead my tongue towards mute button. Maybe a freshly brewed heartbreak, a cup of leftover nicotine kisses, a thick slice of love letters wrapped in dust, few spiced poems that'll taste so rough to add tears and a spoonful of memories like salt that never fail to bring goosebumps.
I can never know the language of silence and how it craves for noise to end itself until I walk in darkness and get disrobed by the hands of unwanted fears. I can never know how silence can lead to injustice in wars until I choose to stay silent and conceal the truth behind those remorseful tears. I can never know how silence picks a paintbrush and paint solace on my skin until I peep inside my soul to find a starry night, a green meadow, a winter zephyr, that silence gives me peace, that everything within me is alive and moving from the time silence has settled in. ~Purva
My 16th Pod and the feeling of getting it still feels so fresh and special. To be honest I never became a writer in a single day and no one can, we all are learners and I learnt a lot from EVERY single person I met here. I read books, novels, I read myriads of poems here, I organized myself and I found my own way of writing. I write through metaphors and no matter how many accounts I make the one who knows me gets it right maybe because that's what my identity is. My poems are me, I'm a poem in itself and I can't change just because of some people. And yes I love being appreciated, without everyone's support I wouldn't have been here at the first place. So THANK YOU.
@miraquill This app gave me more than I ever deserved, your prompts are the ones that dig out my creativity. Thank you for making my life special and for feature too ♡
I often walk barefoot in the lanes of fall wearing anklet of woes,crushing elation under the forlorn feet of compassion.Under the shelter of bare branches my autumnal heart sheds poetries on the pages of silence. I am a seasonal poet of saudade.
Winter often freezes my tears welcoming spring to heal my soul . I sit beneath the cherry tree letting the shower of solicitude soaked sakura stick to my skin.The forelsket fills my nostril with fragrance of fuchsia but my heart remains untouched by love . I am poet of oceans who nurtures and massacres the waves of emotion.