917 posts
  • naqsaif 4d

    Sunday is the
    Sworn enemy of Monday
    Tuesday is the best friend of Monday
    He goes around trying
    To convince him to be a good day
    Wednesday is the class clown
    He once stole Sunday's crown
    Friday is the ultimate nerd
    Yet he is the cutest of the whole herd
    Saturday,she is Sunday's sister
    She was madly in love
    With Wednesday
    Who happened to be the brother
    Of Monday.


    Read More

    The Weekly drama


  • ahya17 5d

    Why The Torture

    Just because she doesn't want Tainnia to have her own independence because she chooses not to live her toxic marriage she doesn't want anyone else to live their life either. Guilt tripping has become a common commonality for our family. We all need therapy and we know it but our toxic parents want to act like everything is fine. If, you ask me they are emotionally abusing us with their problems and not caring about our emotions. That's say we should be emotion less but when it's not in their favor they twist it around. It breaks my heart to see my own mother act like a child and not only sacred but manipulated the people in our that could have helped my sister gain some freedom from the abuse into rejecting her. Parents said they want their children to succeed but, they are the ones that pull them back don't you think?

  • coniah 1w

    "Dress how you want to be addressed", is a paradox to the naked man

  • kingbeyondthewall 3w

    You are my paradox..
    I could not understand you by my logic..

  • _rutu_writes_ 9w


    Let me handle life!!
    Am very certain that I know one thing about life and that's I know nothing....
    Let me handle life and then life handles me.

  • silhouette_of_a_poet 14w

    In an aimless search
    My boat runs aground
    In open seas
    Flares go out like matchsticks
    A solitary convention
    Plays the bright shadows
    Of sweet regrets

    Rivers flowed upstream
    Napalm skies
    Quenched by tears
    A trickling tsunami
    Cold flames licked me
    In a delightful torment
    The search ends

    A cliche serendipity
    The blind archer
    Always strikes me
    In the heart
    When clocks forget to keep time

    #paradox #oxymoron

    //This goes against the flow//

    Read More



  • hash_05 14w

    बात कहूं गर एक तो बाल खुले रखा करो,
    चेहरे का नूर अच्छा लगता हैं...
    न बहम नही है मेरा
    चाहो तो तुम्हारे चाहने वालों से पूछ लो...


  • nocturnal_enigma 14w

    -nning; -ning ~

    It was the beginning...
    of a day; Morning.
    Let me running...
    away till evening.

    It is beginning...
    of the end; Meaning?
    Let my tears running...
    again; Just whining.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

  • hash_05 16w

    पन्ने लिखे तेरी यादों में जलाए ज़वानी में
    घूमे बेपरवाह होकर हम बर्बादियों में

  • hash_05 17w

    हाल-ए-दिल बयां करता चला गया,
    कुछ पन्ने अधूरे छोड़े
    कुछ दास्तान लिखता चला गया....

  • sagejuvenile 17w

    The more I travel, the smaller the globe beneath my feet becomes and yet the larger the weight of the world on my shoulders.

    I travel to seek out the essence that defines me, and yet the more I travel the less this quest commands my interest.

    Some people once told me once I scratched this itch it would just fade away, but the more I scratch it, the more it spreads.

  • muskanjalotra 18w

    This is the constant paradox❤️
    #paradox #writernetwork #rwu #mirakee

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    Constant paradox

    Never be ashamed of your own status.
    Follow this rule for every non constant thing.
    But the plot twist that nothing is constant.

  • wordsbykarma 19w


    I am locked onto a strange paradox.
    A recurring emotion of emptiness - a volatile realisation that my memories aren't really mine. Amidst the circadian smokescreen of all human activity, I see myself as a collector, at most a mere witness.

    I accept the daytime lies of my politicians.
    I welcome the evening news of insurgence against establishments.
    I see past your lies of a hopeful world.
    I even smile at your wicked games of hide and seek.

    No, i am not bitter. I do not feel resentment towards flaws of humanity. I see everyone's reason for doing 'things'.

    In the end - we are all just collectors.
    Witnesseing this world through our eyes on borrowed time.
    Collecting experiences, stockpiling memories; Only for them to be pulled away in a backward trance.

    You and I are both locked onto this paradox. And sooner or later this debt must be paid with memories.


  • alveeranaaz 20w

    Let them do what they want to do
    And don't judge for what they are doing

  • nocturnal_enigma 20w

    * Back after 9 days break. ~

    * 12.9.2021; 5.25 P.M (Malaysia)

    #paradox #contradiction #dissatisfaction

    #concretepoetry (A person wear a hat) #NuEmConcrete

    #livingc @writersbay

    * Begin with #sometimes #wod @miraquill

    * Based on characteristics of my Doubutsu Uranai-
    Purple Sheep (See also #NuEmSheep)

    "Your type of women tends to have high aspirations, and hold huge expectation and ideals toward others. Therefore, in contradiction, you may be feeling dissatisfaction on the inside.

    Although you value relationships with others, you also like being on your own. Therefore you may suffer from your own contradiction.

    Although you are a passive sort of person, you do possess perseverance and are a person of action. Once you are on fire, you show unbelievable energy."

    * While based on my birthdate, at Sln.me, it stated that 1 of my characteristics is 'Dissatisfied'.

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    Paradox ~

    Sometimes, there's a lot that I expected.
    Sometimes, I become very dissapointed.

    High aspirations,
    huge expectations.
    It's a contradiction.
    Feeling dissatisfaction.

    Sometimes, I like to socialise.
    Sometimes, I like to isolate.

    I value relation...
    ship. I like isolation.
    Another contradiction.
    Suffer. Dissatisfaction.

    Sometimes, I am passive.
    Sometimes, I am active.

    Passive. But, person of action.
    On fire, to the point of exertion.
    Again. It's a contradiction.
    Dissatisfied; Dissatisfaction.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

  • biha_soundarya 20w

    Heart : Listening is something so important in life isn't it?
    Conscience : Some say communication.

    Heart : I don't know. But I truly feel that listening is
    the mother of all things being right.
    Conscience :You're very passionate about this.

    Heart : I am. Imagined how listening happens even when
    we are a child. Imagined a toddler who just learn
    how to walk, putting all effort to get the attention
    of the parents with their gibberish baby talk. But
    the parents are addicted to their phones and don't
    even pay attention that the toddler has to climb
    on the parents and hold the parents face and pull
    it towards the toddler which literally screams :
    "Mom! Dad! Listen to me!"
    Conscience : Oh that's so sad ☹️
    Heart : Yes it is. Imagined if that's us, even as adult
    craving to be heard and yet listening became so
    cripple to us human ☹️

    **She notices how selfish human has become. How ignorant and how egoistic all of us have turned into. Listening become so expensive, the highest trait which is so difficult to master. If only we learn to listen. Listen to even the silence of words that is throbbing to burst out words of love, beauty and wisdom. Just imagine if listening was not cripple**

    #pod #tod_wt #writersbay @miraquill @mirakeeworldwidewriter @mirakeeworld #wod #paradox

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    If listening was not cripple


  • biha_soundarya 20w

    Heart : Do you know what writing can do. It is so powerful.
    Conscience : Yes it is.

    Heart : Lord Byron says "A drop of ink may make a
    million think". That is simply how powerful it is.
    Things that can't be said, things that was
    forcefully silenced, things that are forcefully
    buried and voluntarily kept as secret and things
    that was covered to hide the ugly side of human.
    Just with a drop of ink. It just shakes the whole
    world and birth the truth.
    Conscience : And that's how it should be. The freedom
    of speech spoken by the unspoken.
    Heart : And so it shall be.

    **Her opinions has always been ridicule, laughed at,
    stomped on, and she has always been called as too
    opinionated. She is silent but loud. She wants to let the
    world know on the many social injustice happening to many, happening to the races, to the cultures, to the religion
    and to her. So the only way is for her to keep making sure
    every drop of ink that she write with relates and could help others. Every drop of it ✒️**

    #pod #tod_wt #writersbay @miraquill @mirakeeworldwidewriter @mirakeeworld #wod #paradox

    Read More

    A drop of ink may make a million think


  • sophia_figueroa 2d

    The Living Dead

    Another day starts
    Just like the one before it
    Where has my life gone
    Is my heart even beating
    If so, why do I feel dead

    What am I missing
    I have a pulse, I'm alive
    Or so I am told
    Dead inside, alive outside
    An all too familiar pain

    I'm sorry to say
    One I've come to know quite well
    You're alive, yet dead
    The living dead you've become
    Can you bring me back to life

    I'm here, yet not here
    I am awake, yet asleep
    Though my heart still sings
    It only does so briefly
    When true joy, love come knocking

    I'll answer the door
    Welcome these guests in my home
    Let them stay rent free
    So I can live once again
    From within, my soul beckons

    Softly and sweetly
    Dead awake I may be now
    Outwardly, I sleep
    Inwardly, I truly live
    In my soul, I am awake

    Wide awake, I see
    Not with two eyes, with my heart
    I see clearly now
    I now know a subtle truth
    Only in soul do I live
    Only in soul am I free
    Only in soul am I true
    Only in soul may I be

  • dolphin_unsettled 21w


    Sometimes you feel close to me
    like warm Sunshine in monsoon
    Otherwise you are a distant star
    like worlds apart going parallel
    Swinging from euphoria to chaos
    together we are a beautiful mess.


  • its_just_her 24w

    Pour the sand onto the hands of my soul
    and rub it deep into the wounds that styles my palm.

    Look beyond the bruises that cut deep into my flesh and see the burning fire of vengeance that looks back at you.
    Feel the deep wounds that with years have tried to heal but merely countless scars that scares my very being remain.

    Again i say look at what reminds of me but with out pity.
    I try to stand up but...but every bones
    every part of me screams with pain-
    pain so deep, the fear that creeps in each time i try to raise my head.
    help me!! Save my fading soul and the slowly beating heart that spreads it tiny branches across my being.

    Please help me...

    Don't let him come close to me
    For so long i tried to fight back
    but with those hit that from the back of his hands create burning flames on my leathery flesh.
    Ahhhhh...i...i can't breathe
    For years and years i have been in this position
    my bones are getting used to the posture.
    Each tears that drops from the source of my eyes are screams of thousands of unspoken words.
    Help me....

    Please don't let me fade into mere memories
    I am still here but slowly becoming a shadow
    My mother awaits me at home
    My father always looking back at the gate with hope
    I do not desire this as my fate.
    Again his groans of hate feel my ears
    Looking at my now small frame
    he smiles at my helpless being
    Mocking me with darkened glares that lines his eyes
    My pale lips slowly pathing to say the last i could but merely the sound of nothingness dances in the air.

    One the single thundering of my heart remains as my face finally crashes to the floor everything becoming blur and numb
    I heard something snap
    feeling nothing and falling into eternal nap
    With the sudden gasp for air and with the last i hould find in me
    I rose again...with the slowness of a dancing leaf i fell against the floor with leaking blood

    With the sand filling the open wounds of my face
    I tried to cry in agony but nothing
    I tired to carry the expression of pain but again nothing
    Slowly giving in to defeat my eyes began closing
    only with the last of my words escaping the barely opening of my mouth.


    And into dust i began to fade
    With ears filled echo and laughter
    While the remains of me dance with the wind and scatter.