Miraquill
"Two poles are meant to stay apart"
Maybe because they were never separate to begin with?
bhootni
petition to bring back 2019 ka mirakee��
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bhootni
13w
Read MoreTo the cracked rhythm of my heartbeat
resting on the nature's fluff,
We may not share the same sky,
the warm buzz or the horror in our dreams,
But trust me, I see your smile every morning
when I open my eyes, golden and warm,
The gloom radiating through the moon's changing phases,
I watch your stars wrap me up in darkness,
Blinding me from every worldly despair,
The dawn comes following the night,
leading me closer to you, narrowing my sight
while the stars blur out in the past.
Every passing breeze whispers about you;
Be blessed with my every dust of rusty hope.
The summer pollen guides me to your cherry blossom
But you were gone long away .
Don't be down, I'm right behind your back,
A night without the moon is scary.
But maybe, we never were far, but the darkness
kept us isolated dumb little kids, all delusional.
Or maybe I was dreaming all along and there's no you?
What was golden and warm? An eternal dream just broken.
©Oishee
Makes sense? ABSOLUTELY NOT. -
They say I'm cursed, bad for health.
The cracks once home to strange colourful flowers
are now filled with mud and dirt .
Walls painted with the fragrance of cologne
now give out foul smell of dead rats.
The jacaranda tree at the end of the street
once crowded with affection
is dead with despair now.
Devoured by the darkness of hearts,
I've forgotten the warmth of life.
I'm the long forgotten street
Once witnessed souls blending together,
Now abandoned by everyone.
Salty emotions sucked by the walls
Keeping me alive yet my charms are paralyzed
I long for destruction but my hopes are alive
That someday someone will come,
cross the heart of mine,
Might chase the fear away of others hearts.
Maybe...
someday soon?
©Oishee -
.
-
bhootni
72w
Read More
Nya saal ki bht bht subh kamanaye sabhi ko ��
(Sorry for posting this again, dopehr wali delete ho gyi thi galti se)
@someone_alive firse le ��.
-
bhootni
73w
Read More
I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't awake either;
Paralyzed memories, floating around
in my dark cold room, kicking my subconscious mind,
forcing my eyes to open wide and peep into the world of nightmares.
Shining ghosts from the past,
Licking the salt my tears gave up.
The young yet haggard soul of mine crying of guilt
Trying to escape the cage of life
But the heartbeats chained it to the walls of the cage.
I'm a breathing corpse with a wet pillow under a dustbin
Which creates mess and stabs my heart with the sharp reality.
Nights are beautiful, maybe because they never lie!
Sweet memories framed with awful lies,
The discoloured present with toxic thoughts,
The future turning into the Bermuda triangle.
Every night, the room experiences silent screams
of a soul struggling to free itself from the
suffocating and spherical world of monsters.
And gradually turns life into dry alphabets,
Balancing between lines of an unevenly torn piece of page,
Page meant to bid the world a good bye,
A suicide note.
©Oishee
Thanks for the like WN ����Maybe,
Night's the greatest enemy of life. -
bhootni
76w
Read More
One night, when the stars gathered
enough power to shine the brightest,
Compared to the other nights,
She woke up and went to the roof,
Hoping she could get a glance of
the close one she lost.
She looked up, trying hard to see
Whether anyone is hiding between
the stars, and watching her.
But she found none.
When the whole city was dead asleep,
She kept searching for the person
She loved the most,
She needed the most beside her.
She screamed her lungs out
Not caring about her surroundings,
"Maa, are you there? Can you see me?
Can you see my condition without you?
Why did you leave me in this cruel world
when you knew they would kill me when you're away?
Can't you see the love for you in my eyes?
Can't you feel the pain my heart's choking on?
Why aren't you answering maa?"
She cried a lot that night.
She was a kid, with a heart where
her innocence mixed with pain,
Which gave out blue tears out of her blooming eyes.
She realized that night,
The world is an awful lie, where liers
rule their kingdom of profits and deception.
No city of stars exist,
No dead people live there,
She was just a kid,
whose nonsense heart ate all the lies people spitted
When she refused to accept the reality.The way he looked into her eyes for the first time,
Verses of nature started melting into raindrops of metaphors. -
bhootni
76w
.
-
And darling,
All my hopes died between the love letters I wrote to you
Leaving behind regrets on my diary
©bhootni -
bhootni
77w
Read More
Recalling those faces,
Familiar yet unfamiliar
I looked down
From the roof of the skyscraper.
The chaotic world seemed so little.
The clock was ticking breathlessly,
Eagerly running to snatch away someone's life.
11:57 p.m
More three minutes for me to turn 18.
I felt my heart choking on memories
My breathe getting slower with every passing seconds
I started losing all the hope to see
The sunrise of my 18th birthday
Everything paused, my vision blurred
The glorious world gradually drowned in darkness
My eyes filled with salty tears of fear,
Fear of the upcoming tragedy on my family.
Silence spread, nothing could be heard
Except my heart, screaming for some more time
Death knocked on my shoulder
My heart beat for the last time
Death stood in front of me, coldly.
It spread it's arms, embraced me like
The very first day my mother did.
“Time to leave for the land of peace,
Little girl”, said death.
I looked down at the moving people
For the last time and said,
“Let's leave, I'm ready”..
-
.
-
5 senses and a curvy guillotine
Your old texts
Are like nicotine
The jitters made me
live a repetitive dream
I checked into a
Rehab bordered
By crumpled papers
I lived vicariously
Through expired
Coupons i bought
At our one year
Anniversary, things
Tasted stale for a lying tongue
My thumbs
Are addicted
To the braille
I discovered
In our love
There's cataracts
In every relationship
Pot-pourri from your
Discarded clothes
Nested in my nose
Like a cuckoo's egg
In crows lair, it fed on
New perfumes and
Left pungent odours
Of your anger
Your goodbye
Was a soothing guillotine
It severed my senses
Like a trained butcher
And left me hooked
In a locked cold room
While i wait for
Time to process
My flesh and bones
©clichepenname -
And look you're gone, proved me right thereupon !
I told you love is fragile,
by giving examples you said with facile -
surely it is, but there are some able
who make it unbreakable.
I thought, I believed, in you and your words,
but then came real you with your swords
to crush down the lies,
that for once I thought was ladder to our love skies.
There you are, gone, not only the false hope stumbled,
but my heart and me as a whole you crumbled,
my dumb heart begs you to come back,
and I am begging my tears to tack.
Here I go, knitting my broken pieces
in the horrific stillness of darkness,
and to the veilded pain - digging happiness
right from my alive carcass.
- I told you love is fragile
and you proved it right, vagile !//
©inking_rubatosis -
She - a phased wanderer ?
She had
as a floating boat
which had lost its oar,
floated aimlessly in the sureness
that her 'oar' was in hand of others,
she would find it anyway
once for all, in the way -
she shattered !
~for she, her happiness and peace
Lay in hand of someone's others love//
____________________________________________________________
She was
as a cheerful bird,
after recollecting and rebounding
her pieces of wings from ashes.
she sprouted this time mentally brawny
that she thought -
if there's any lava fall
she won't sear this time at all.
One day in the veil of lover,
so augustly he marched,
banged into her frozen heart.
For once she thought -
"O, my lord, how to thank you
enough, for sending him in my parched life",
But Gradually, she realised it was 'only' her love,
for him, which melted her heart,
nothing she got, but she lost
in him, that much, that
he himself had to cleared her
delusive, foggy thought for him,
such that ' '.
And this is how he unveiled
his real psyche!
What happens next
she burried deep in her twinkling smile,
that even he who scorched her
ain't able to recognise -
what's she holding heavily behind them.
~for she, her happiness and peace
Lay in loving him selflessly//
____________________________________________________________
She, now a of -
stillness of being lone,
shamness of love by some,
traits of the vivd flowers,
covered faces of the poor ramblers,
burgeoning, after sprinkling of ownself,
placidic intuition of the dark shelf,
life giving energy of the Sun ,
immortality of the Sky run,
swiftness of the rivers,
highness of the mountains,
Roaring of the winds tune,
calmness of the stars and the Moon,
onerousness of the unheard words,
lightening of the mind when ink flows,
Bawling soreness of the poetries,
And everything in the aura, nature holds.
(Periodt)
~ for she, her happiness and peace
Lies within inside her, within her self-love//
©inking_rubatosis -
One day the paradox I'm breathing
Would finally outrun me
And I'd outgrow myself.
When that happens
Remember me not as a loss
But as a closure
That let's you move on.
Do layer me with things of beauty
When I leave with the soil.
Let tragedies melt off my bones
To feed the ironies deep down.
One day I'd be divorced from me
As the number resets
And I'd hibernate on pyre.
When that happens
Remember me not as an epoch
But as a moment
That percolates in thin air.
Do sprinkle my memories
In streams of time
Let contemporary cross my mind
As I flow along.
©_transient -
दूर रह तू सबसे रानी कि तुझसे ना कोई बैर करे,
फ़िर भी अगर टकरा गये तुमसे तो ख़ुदा ख़ैर करे।
©rani_shri -
ak_anjali_daydreamzz
12w
Read More#knots #ofsadness #ak_wn_repost
All Rights Reserved
23 Feb 2022 1.30 pm
Macrame is the art of knotting /
Ayee Thank you so much for Repost @writersnetwork ��
Thank you so much for Liking @miraquill �� I'm glad ��Macrame Mould
My veins are a tangled mess of red ropes
That pumps memories sweet and bitter
Joy and sorrow interwoven intricately
Throughout the contours of heartache, pain builds nests as knots
When they start residing betwixt knots, their footprints form scars
No scars bloomed from gay gates, only from frenzied fences
When I word my worries in whispering whirls on white
With a quill that draws paint from my poignant plate, that of past
I feel those knots loosening and lending me few breaths of relief
Winds that breeze over in Deja Vu, still tries to tighten it
One such knot is around my neck, made of negligence
But I can't complain, cause I never displayed patterns of pain
Ballads braid my blood into beautiful branches of blues
My limbs loathe those choking layers of weaved woes
Minutiae of which made me a macrame mould of muse
©ak_anjali_daydreamzz -
artemiswrites
12w
Happiness sticks to my fingers
like fresh strawberry jam
sourced from a small farm,
when I take walks through the fields
of my childhood
©artemiswrites -
A Hidden Treasure
I bought
a microscope
to study the chambers
full of flawed stories
outweighing the beauty
of reality
Shrivelled bones
and dried potency
stopped talking about
charming willpower
Got distracted
and lost their way to narrow path
dreamt too small
felt too little
and believed nothing
I zoomed
on the other side
to research
the facts unknown to me
Saw some foreign cells
living impossibility
in a world
where
people don't age
and see what lies behind the mountain
I saw myths becoming a reality
but only if
one choose to believe
©poetryfromsoul -
blooming_fossil 13w
Read MoreYesterday,
I caught my grandma smiling.
An ancient album rested on her lap.
She pulled me beside her and
flipped those dark sheets excitedly.
Paused only to reveal
anecdotes of some special pictures,
which I've heard a hundred times before.
Drunk on her euphoria,
I pointed at my favorite picture of her wedding
and exclaimed how beautiful a couple they made.
(Where Grandpa's earnest gaze
sat on her like August
raindrops on demure marigold,
as if promising to cherish her till lifetime.)
Chuckling at my praise, she
looked up at grandpa's sole photograph
On the wall and said, "he did."
©blooming_fossilPromises of A Photograph
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रात के अंधकार में भीगे उदास रास्ते का अकेलापन हर सुबह चौखट पर अख़बार बनकर गिरता है और ख़बर आती है सियासी फंगस की आड़ में बिलख रहे लोकतंत्र की। पिछले साल की तरह इस साल भी महामारी का यह दोहराव भविष्य में अपनी आवृत्ति का दस्तक दे रहा। वास्तविकता के हत्यारे हर रोज़ ही बीच के कुछ पन्नों पर अपनी आतंकी कहानियां चस्पा करते चले जाते हैं, ठीक वैसे ही जैसे नाना जी के चश्मे पर चाय की भाप चिपक जाती है।
जेठ की उमस सबके माथे पर खेल रही है। काॅरिडोर ठंडा रहता है, दिन के ढ़ाई बजे बड़े बूढ़े सभी नीचे आ जाते हैं। किसी दराज में धूल खा रही सरकारी फाइलों की तरह विश्व गुरु भारत की दिक्कतें सामने आती हैं, फिर शाम होते ही सभी दस्तावेजों के साथ उसी दराज में बन्द हो जाती हैं। निष्कर्ष के संदर्भ में, भूत और भविष्य समान रूप में धुंधले मालूम पड़ते हैं।
सबके फ़लसफ़ों पर पानी फेरते हुए मैं फिर से अपने एस्थेटिक्स को समेटने लगती हूं, अपनी ही कविताओं पर मुस्कुराते हुए।
- १दिता
