Miraquill
Someday, somewhere
If the sky fell for the earth
Your unreciprocated love would find it reciprocated
elizquotes
Let's meet again for the first time ��������
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If every pain could produces sound, the earth would not be inhabitable
©elizquotes -
elizquotes
17w
Nothing grows well
On sparingly good soil and devoid of nutrients deep down.
Likewise, life doesn't grows well too
On pretentious
©elizquotes -
I can never unfelt
The hurts imprinted by love.
The bitterness were felt
To The bone marrow,
Spread through the veins
Sorrowing the soul.
The borken heart
Refused to be comforted
©elizquotes -
We were all walking on the tiny threads of sin like the spider web
©elizquotes -
Looking for human praise for an aeon, I have lost myself
©elizquotes -
elizquotes
17w
The rainbow appears only after the rain, the say.
Hopefully our love's rainbow will be appear after our brokenness -
Compassion is in my eyes
Kindness engulfed my heart
Humbleness is my garland
Lending a hand in need is my bangle
©elizquotes -
The nights are when the broken heart drowned themselves in tears
©elizquotes -
The dripping sound of the rain
Were pluviophile's favorite
I would be the rain
To awaken you with rattling sounds
Let you feel alive and the freshness
Of life after each pouring rains
To let you fall in love with yourself
With each dripping sound
©elizquotes
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love_whispererr
16w
Read Moreढूंढ ही लोगे मुझे तुम हर जगह अब तो मुझको खबर है
हो गया हूँ तेरा जब से मैं हवा में हूँ तेरा असर है...
#Broken #uncensoredbybidya
This is for you @milliondreamsarekeepingmeawake ; a happy uncensored may be :-!An uncensored meeting with broken memories of past
Someday we'll meet again
when the colours of our hair may turn gray
and the wrinkles on our hands may not search
for any winter care body lotion
but someone's warm shoulder ;
when our tastebuds will be tired of
salad, bitter melon juice and leafy greens,
we may arrive at the old street food lane
just to smell the aloo tikki, hot kachori,
chhole bhature and vada pav.
You'll see me wandering near those stalls
with a heart-melting smile on my face
and i may try to identify you through
my thick rimmed glass and your gazes may
meet a familiar face beneath that browline specs ;
you may whisper something but i will say,
"you !"
We'll sit under that old banyan tree
which will be still there since our college days,
we'll recall college days how we
bunked off college all week to attend the fair
and we lied to our parents to go for a concert
of our favourite singer and
that first night show movie of our life
where we were throwing coins with the entry of hero
and you were whistling while looking at the heroine.
We may not talk about our first kiss in the library
which was caught by your best friend
and how we fought like tom-jerry everyday ;
how we tried to elope to build a home for us
but our different religions and same societal judgements
stopped us at the mid of a lane
from where we returned as alone survivors ;
we failed to find a home for us but
we'll meet again with gallons of memories again.
You'll praise my saree color and will tell me,
"I don't like this colour but it suits you."
and i may hide my shyness behind my lappet ;
i may not hold your hand that day
but I'll hug you after a long time and I'll sigh.
I'll show you my granddaughter's picture
and you may invite me to your
youngest son's marriage party,
we'll exchange our WhatsApp numbers
and post a selfie on instagram tagging each other
with some hashtags like lots of memories & laughs
and long time friends,
we may try to become a social creature.
Then you may get a call from your wife who will say,
"Where are you ?
Since when have i been trying to reach you ?
Why it's unreachable ! Come fast.
It's the time to take your medicine."
and with a single word "okay"
you may disconnect the call but I'll say,
" go, I'll call you someday."
But there will be no promises to meet again,
with some broken memories and heavy tears,
we'll bid a farewell again.
Yes, we'll meet again...
©Bidya -
poets
...
many of us
are not brave enough
to gulp heartbreaks with wine
and scream in forlorn nights,
but more than enough to paint
faded rainbows with allegories
and furbelow the solitude with
metaphors of a crowded street ;
you name them also-rans but
i portray them on
the palm of my diary as
p o e t s.
©Bidya B. -
outofleague
16w
Read MoreThis is my attempt for giving
suggestions/tips for;
"How to write a poem?"
Happy National Poetry Month
everyone.
The poem “Natural Invocation”
is made with the help of words using
anniversary, frank, flower and transition
taken from website called
"randomwordgenerator".
The rhyming words associated with them;
burglary, blank, shower and ambition
are taken from website called
"rhymezone".
I tried my best to write only one sentence using each word mentioned, keeping them in the end.
I didn’t rush what I have to write. I took my time, constructing one line at a time and also having correlation of each line with one another.
It is better to use a notepad (made of papers) to do the rough work as it provides more space for taking sudden ideas. Just start with something short. You can also just write four lines.
Now let's assume some scenarios.
If two movies are using the same actors but their stories are different, would you associate the actions of any one of the productions "fraudulent"?
Another example;
you and your neighbor are buying bricks from the same seller to build your respective houses. Both the houses look different. Will the same kind of consideration should be questioned in this case as well?
Many people in this platform and
in the world have a vast arsenal
of knowledge to support
what they want to portray,
method of expression,
use of terminology,
elements of vocabulary,
shade of literature,
depth of meaning,
flexibility of perception
the list goes on.
In order to create something new in one way or the other, you are going to use the same resources everyone else is using.
If you don't have those resources within you then there is nothing wrong with collecting those resources from the sources present around the globe.
After all, you and someone else both are going to use a pen. One could write to bring peace the other could write to bring chaos.
Feel free to use whatever means you require to establish, polish and maintain
your creativity.
Never perform plagiarism, otherwise how would you discover your own identity?
#natural #invocationNatural Invocation
Seasons celebrating their anniversary
stealing colors.. a periodic burglary;
intentions being innocently frank
leaving no eyes being rendered blank.
Divinity propagates from each flower
greeting mortality with serene shower,
spellbound sorcery of cunning transitions
sprinkling hope with blissful ambitions.
©outofleague -
LONLINESS
I was living in the cyclones of loneliness
His presence hit my lonely heart's land
His glimpse brought a tornado
Which was lethal yet dusted my land with sparkles
Droughts were all around
While his appearance were filling the gaps with huge floods
To keep his heart my own heart was sliding from its place
Like a landslide, so slow and calm it was but took my soul with itself for eternal
And gifted me new sunshine which was all filled with his love and ended all my tempests
©muskaanbhatt -
muskaanbhatt
16w
Read MoreNot exactly a 3 line quote but some kind of truth��
How I am able to write without any experience, degree,skill, source or guidance.
Well the answer is only he is responsible for my writing,only because of him, I am able to give vision, way, and voice to my words and writings��❤��
#poet #pod #wod #poet
@miraquill @writersnetworkPOETESS
"Her passionate love,those unsaid words, deeply heartfelt feelings and unshared emotions,made a simple girl, an incredible poet"
©muskaanbhatt -
Wondering Wanderer
Zeal to conquer those boundaries
that obstruct one's perception
from discovering a meaning.
©outofleague -
inkandfable670
16w
Read More#broken
#wod
@writersnetwork
@miraquill Thank you for the Editor's Choice..����I don't have list of broken things
Which are thrown inside me,carelessly;
Countless they're, so my soul
Looks like a store house
Some hurt me , some not
Some catches my eyes every day, some Unnoticed and forgotten
So let me pick some of them
And try to fix them again,
After choosing few, I would begin
With my torned wings of courage
To fix them again I will urge various birds
To lend me one of their feathers
Collect them all and attach them with
My broken wings,and
This is how they'll be again able to take flight
Feather's vibrant colours will covered all Wounds,and make them enchanting
At the same time.
Secondly, I would go with my
Shrunken and ripped old notebook of trust,
Iron it with forgiveness to
Remove olden creases,
Stick some patches of love to cover
Wherever it's gotten rough
Some dried flowers of my other
Pains will add Some finishing touch,
And a sturdy cover of hope will
Give it a tight bind
And that's how my wraked
Book will turn into
A scrapbook,attractive and defined.
Thirdly, I'll choose that canvas
On which many shades of dark(despair)
Randomly poured on years ago
So I wrapped it up painted half
Today, its reeking in some corner
Of my heart, to make it an artwork
I would pick sky's blue colour
Which stays quit longer than others
With brush made of solid wood of faith
I make strokes with patience as
Much as I want, till it turns into a painting,
Which my eyes want admire from
Dawn to dusk to dusk to dawn.
©inkandfable670 -
inkandfable670
16w
Read More
#poet
They're wandering angels
With attacked,wounded wings
When felt unable to fly
Chose their feeble quill
Now sitting on it fearlessly
Like a skilled witch
Travel in imagination,
So far from dead land.//
#wod
@miraquill
@writersnetwork Thank you for the honour the kind repost... much grateful ❤❤
_________________________________Poets
A knight sitting in corner
With dagger( quill) scratching his scars again
A fairy called poetry born from his unseen pain,
Apart from galaxies(society) a broken star, Prefers to submerge in an ocean dark,
Rather being to be one amidst those lights, false,
An introverted extrovert girl of later sixteen, Talking to the petals furled or unfurled
Who often got criticised and extolled for her bewitching youth (her art of writing),
A young boy of twenties, struggling with his Boyhood, wants to mingle his emotions
with some masculine tears(poetry),
Couldn't do so, knowing society wouldn't permit,
Isolated in a room, an old on his death bed,
His verses, thoughts and wrinkled fingers are now his only companions, which helped him to preach his younger ones,
A writer isn't also not less than a new born child who used to cry in the absence of light, his crying hasn't any specific language, tone and words yet people call it poetry in enchanted verses.
©inkandfable670 -
Transcend
Maybe I am broken
but I am not defeated
The game is not over yet.
Life is all about broken beauty
some broken love,
some broken promises
sometimes broken heart.
But above all,
Hope is an illuminant
shining brightly
above the broken stars.
©strxberry_ -
strxberry_ 16w
Read More#poet #wod @miraquill @writersnetwork
Thank you @writersnetwork for your like and kind repost. ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you all for the read, feedback and repost. Honoured ❤️❤️��In making of the Poet
The poet is not born only of filigrees of heartbreak or lamentations, despair or hope, Life or death, these are raw emotions staring everyday on our face;
A poet's mind is whetted with touchstone of nature, raised from the metaphysical entities, the bond of love between man and nature, sometimes Nature being our friend, philosopher and guide;
Our own thoughts being pragmatic, plays a game of snake and ladders in our heart, the sagacity we derive from those emotions, pure and enlightened wisdom bursts forth making a poet in us.
©strxberry_
