159 posts
  • personic 58w


    Relationship never dies a natural death. It is murdered by Ego, Attitude and Ignorance

  • sweedle 60w

    I cloak myself in the twilight with layers of wishful thinkings. These are butterflies called dreams, spreading their wings out like there is nothing to lose. Reality glistens on the top of my eyelids like a nightmare, threatening to open my eyes. I want to sleep a little longer,
    I want to hallucinate this brief contentment again.

    © Sweedle

  • ashamurali 60w

    Mirakee word of the day #clothing #wod

    I have written from the Point of view of a cloth that is used to cover a dead body.

    I have heard that people get philosophical after the death of a loved one. Surely it does. I am sorry if it has put you in a pensive mood but this is reality and the faster we come to terms with it, the better.

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #readthisj @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay #father #death

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    A short eventful life of a cloth

    I am a smooth, sparkling white cloth. I was with my brothers in a huge bale and I travelled from the factory all the way, probably a thousand kilometers. I was detached and packed and I crossed some bumpy roads to reach a house.

    Oh! what is the crowd around the house? I can see that everyone is talking in soft whispers. I can also hear some quiet sobs. Oh! There it is! A lifeless body was placed on the floor! I was put on the body after it was bathed. I could feel the ice cold body. I gathered that it was that of a father and his children and wife were standing around him. People came and garlanded and I felt nice and fresh with so many flowers and wreaths. But with every garland, they were sobbing more. I was wondering how this man would have been? Was he a good husband and father? Obviously he has been quite a popular person considering the number of people visiting him.

    In what seemed eternity, so many people came to pay respect to the departed person. I was confused what my role was. Should I feel happy or sad? Soon I was covered with flowers of every kind, some heavy garlands too.

    Slowly I was placed in a vehicle that carried me to the crematorium. The children and others present gave me a final glance before I was pushed into a cylindrical shaped enclosure. "See your father for one last time" the attender announced. Everyone looked at me with teary eyes and then he tugged the lever.

    Oh my god! There was fire all around me. It was burning with all intensity. I just had to give in. I knew that my life as a cloth is over. In just a few minutes I was reduced to a small bucket of ashes along with the body on whom I was put.

    Unlike my brothers who ended as table cloth or bedsheets or shirts, my life ended super fast. I did enjoy the short but eventful stay on earth. I wonder if human beings ever realise that however soft, smooth and shiny one is, ultimately one has to reach the same destination!


  • veronica_06 60w

    Scarlet scarf ©veronica_06

    I am made of cotton with strain,
    Dyed red and plain,
    I belong to a famous reign,
    I have traveled beyond fabrics and threads,
    Now, I am in the hands of a girl
    who has the heart of silk
    and knack of a needle!
    I smooch her neck all day,
    Collect her sweat and tears like a boquet!
    I swish to hold her head high,
    when she wraps me around her locks!
    When she crushes me,
    I get drenched in her pain!
    When she wraps me around her fingers,
    I sense her anxiety!
    When she holds me on air,
    I sense her bliss!
    When she wraps me on her,
    I sense her blush!
    Till the world forgets twines and weaving,
    I will keep shielding her!

  • gaurangig 60w

    What I wear

    She wore a saree, traditional and always decent,
    And yet she was violated!

    She wore a burqa, covered herself from head to toe,
    And yet she was violated!

    She wore salwar kameez, comfortable and convenient,
    And yet she was violated

    She wore a jeans, rough and tough, for wear and tear,
    And yet she was violated

    She wore shorts, trendy and free spirited,
    And yet she was violated!

    She wore a diaper, she wasn't even aware,
    And yet she was violated!


  • sumana_chakraborty 61w

    White colour attire
    with intricate and
    subtle stitches of kindness
    woven with myriad hues
    of politeness, honesty
    and justice is best suited
    when draped on human soul.

  • leena_afsha_ishrot 61w


    17 - March - 21 12:11 p.m.

    #leena_unsaidwords #pod #wod #clothing #hindiwriters #hindinama

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @hindiwriters @hindinama @writersbay

    Thank you for the kind repost ♥️ @hindiwriters (6)

    Thank you for the kind repost �� @hindinama (5)

    Welcome to highlight my mistakes ��

    सुना है, इस्सा जामिन में लड़कियों के एहमियत कम है थोड़ी सी

    क्या असल में एसी हैं?

    उड़ने से पहले ही उसके अपने ने सपने को नजरंदाज करते हैं

    क्या असल में एसी हैं?

    वो नन्ही सी परी घर को घर बनाया है

    पर क्यों कम उम्र में घर में ही मेहमान बनाने में लगे हुए हैं

    कम उम्र में घर बसाने की रिवायत क्यों होते हैं?

    सिरसती के बीज को क्यों कुचल दिया जाता है?

    बस बालिक होने में देर, और वें नन्ही सी जान को विवाह देती है

    जिस उम्र में वह खुद को सम्भल नहीं सकती, उस उम्र में उससे तोहफा में लाल रंग की जोड़ी दिया गया है

    नन्ही परी खिलाफ है घर से दूर जाने के लिए

    उससे न इल्म है हकिक़त से,

    वह अपनी ही ख्याली दुनिया में है

    सब खुशीयां मना रहे है, सिर्फ नन्ही परी को छोड़ कर

    काई बार उससे बैंचें गई

    वो भी एक इंसान हैं

    कोई कैसे अपनी नाज़ुक हाथों से, अपने फ़र्ज़न को आग में ढाकैल सकते है?

    वह भी कुछ कागज के पात्तों से!

    क्या लड़कियों के एहमियत इन कागज़ के पत्तों से भी कम हैं?

    आखिर क्यों सपनों का उड़ान की गला घोंटा गया?

    क्या यह रिवायत बदल नहीं सकती?

    एक बार उससे मौका दें, खुलें आसमान में उड़ने के लिए

    वो आपके सिर झुकाने नहीं देंगे

    वो भी एक इंसान हैं

    उससे बोझ नहीं समझिएगा

    एक बार नन्ही कलि से तो पूछिए कि - वह क्या चाहती है?

    एक बेटी से पूछना की - अपनी वालिद से दूर रह कर, कैसी खुशी का माहौल बनाने में पूरी जिंदगी बीत गए हैं!


    ©Leena Afsha Ishrot

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    नन्ही परी ☑️

    (Read the caption)

  • ckfilvan 61w

    favourite dress
    /ˈfeɪv.ɹɪt dɹɛs/ (noun)

    She looks pleased
    In her favourite dress--
    His warm chest
    Against her back;
    Hands that gently cup
    The swelling hills that hide
    The shivering heart,
    Along with polka dots kisses
    Warm on her shoulders and neck,
    And a million 'I love yous'
    Perfuming her little frame.

  • msushil 61w

    My Shirt:
    He smiles
    And I render him nothing.
    He oozes confidence
    And I smile silently.
    Yes, he is my shirt,
    so cosy,
    so selfless performer;
    Carrying my sweat,
    he brings out the best
    from me at work place.
    May not I acquire applause,
    And get a trophy,
    But satisfaction
    touches my inner soul.
    Yes, he is my shirt,
    so cosy, so selfless performer.
    #pic is credited to rightful owner

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    My Shirt:
    He smiles
    And I render him nothing.
    He oozes confidence
    And I smile silently.
    Yes, he is my shirt,
    so cosy,
    so selfless performer;
    Carrying my sweat,
    he brings out the best
    from me at work place.
    May not I acquire applause,
    And get a trophy,
    But satisfaction
    touches my inner soul.
    Yes, he is my shirt,
    so cosy, so selfless performer.

  • personic 61w

    I wonder why people still underestimate the authenticity of long distance relationships. I fell in love with her soul. before I could even touch her skin. If that isn’t true love, then please tell me what is.

  • ericajean 61w

    Red Lingerie

    A portion of me feel Scarlet as soft fire
    Green With Jealousy
    And loved as the V between her thighs,

    Yet the lacy, racy twinge of regret is sharp- 

    The hurt of being considered only Annually.

    Why once, why not more?
     I am her fierce Siren Call

    I miss her celluloid curves
    accepting my strings of rayon cotton.

  • silentigostine 61w


    I comes in different form and in different kinds.
    I was created for a reason.
    I serves the King, the King's wife and children.
    I serves the middle class, and even the peasant.
    I can be something that may wipe a tears,
    I can be something that warm a person who's feeling cold,
    I can be something that gives comfort a person who's not feeling good.
    I can be something that covers scars, and show beautiful part.
    I can be anything a person wants me to be!
    But why is it? why my value slowly fading through times, after the trend changed my value also do!
    I have been neglected after many years of being used!
    Please see my worth, you may not realize it but like food you may not live with out me.


  • johnbenson 61w

    Her Dress

    When she wears me,
    I let you see
    I fit her tight
    My cloth touches
    Every part of her body
    All day long
    Showing you every curve on her body.
    I feel her body move
    With every step she takes
    I can feel every breath that she makes
    It makes me stretch
    And tighter on her.
    I feel every beat of her heart
    If you watch real close
    You can too.
    I love it
    When she wears me
    Cause I love feeling
    Her beauty too.

  • ak_anjali_daydreamzz 61w

    #random #clothing #wod #temp
    17 March 2021 4 am

    Remember ? �� @the97_introvert & My love ❤️ @btslove
    And �� @purple_ I wrote ^_^

    Read More

    He was a tease draped in deceit
    She craved the taste of sin 




    He wore a cloak of mystery 
    And a choker of enchanting spells
    She was a wishful daydream 
    Wearing a maleficent nightmare


  • quotesomnia__ 61w

    A year ago things were different. People could go out without stress and meet whoever they want. Different styles of clothes were chosen for an outfit although now people only have to care about the casuals to wear at home.

    #clothing #wod@writersnetwork @mirakee @readwriteunite

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    Shirts would never go out of style
    Still have me dreaming that the days could be brought back with cherished moments when I could wear them when I used to meet and greet my loved ones.

  • uniqueeunice 61w

    Garment of Pride

    One by one
    Bit by bit
    The dark haired girl
    Shed off the piece of clothings on her
    Fingering the last piece
    a sweet smile hovered on her face
    I remember vividly
    How careful she choose us
    Her garment of pride
    Today being her wedding day
    she wants those prized clothings
    Next to her skin
    For ages i've been with her
    she treasure me
    Her depository of memories
    Being a mere scarf
    I underestimate myself
    But she value me
    Her childhood companion
    Standing alone,i might be insignificant
    But when assembled with other clothings
    I make statement
    Meeting for the first time
    It was love at first Sight
    Graduating from High School,She held me with pride
    Nervous at exams,she fidget with me
    Best Graduating student at College
    She walked with me around her neck with poise
    She showered me with love
    letting me know what a piece of cloth can be
    Clothes can be source of identity
    Peculiar to some races and Culture
    We can be cozy and comfortable
    Clothes can be emporium
    Relishing old memories
    Fabrics can be layered
    to make fashion statement
    Specific clothes defines profession
    Clothes are art
    We define personality.

  • tardigrade 61w

    I wear you down now.

    The burden is troublesome for you.

    You've put me into the ground now.

    the logic for my use is now dumb to you.

    Remember me!! I'm your armour.

    The first time you used me.

    was when you lost a father figure.

    You wrote introvert on me.

    and folded yourself unto your core

    and nodded at every fake sympathy

    that walked inside your door.

    Still don't ring a bell?

    How about the time 

    when you felt lost like a bat

    because mom had to wear 

    both hers and daddy's hat.

    And she did, with grace and courage,

    that only a single mother can fathom.

    But you were too toxic to understand her.

    And so you wrote rude on my bottom.

    You ashamed of yourself now?

    Trying to figure your way out?

    Tired of projecting insecurities as masculinity

    If you let go, won't your ego be run down?

    Hey, I know, I've been a bit harsh.

    but we've been through so many wars.

    And granted you lied to yourself 

    because you were wearing me

    couldn't introspect , so you blamed the world.

    for pushing you to every existing depravity.

    Perhaps, I deserve to be locked forever.

    Where the sun doesn't shine on me, six feet under

    But you'll need me again, so don't bury me yet.

    Sincerely yours, Armour.Just put me in the closet.


  • silvern_art 61w

    #clothing #wod #writersnetwork

    I know the poem is a little too long but once I started I couldn't stop. Till the end the need to write more was there

    Thank you @writersnetwork for this opportunity. I never thought I needed to write this poem till now. And I'm glad I did


    I remember the day you got me
    A gift from your dad
    Your sixteen year old self bloomed with happiness
    You held me tight refusing to let go

    You washed, ironed and hung me up in your room
    'Your most prized possession', you called me
    With pride you boasted to anyone who saw me
    Hanged for days in a laundry nylon

    When the day came for me to be worn
    With all the care and caution in the world
    You peeled of the nylon gently
    I remember it clearly, the bright smile on your face

    'It's so beautiful', you'd said as you checked yourself in the mirror with me on
    To bring out your beauty I had hugged you in the right curve, not to loose not to tight
    'I love it'. You shouted with joy
    You might not have noticed, but that moment I shined back in reply

    I remember the proud look of your father when he saw you in me
    The amazed look of your mother in satisfaction
    'You look marvelous'. Your dad said with a peck in your forehead
    'I knew you took my genes'. Your mum said with a smirk as you all hugged your family bursting into a fit of chuckles
    That moment I prided in myself as the reason for your happiness

    Now looking back in time, it sure was a beautiful memory to hold
    But no longer am I the reason to make you smile
    No longer do I get to snuggle you close
    No more praises of my once vibrant beautiful

    Now am just one of the others
    Roughly thrown on the floor in a corner of your room
    No more on display with pride
    Like those before me, I'm forgotten and used

    With jealousy brimming through my dimmed colour
    I watch you hang more and more of the likes of me
    With joy brimming through your eyes like it did with me
    And when I try to warn them of a future like mine
    They ignore me and bask in your care

    If only they knew I was once like them
    Vibrant and crease free
    Ignorant of the warning of those before me
    Just maybe if I had listen
    I wouldn't be so broken when my time came to be discarded

    But take it not to heart, my little rant
    For the moments with you are my most treasured
    For with you I experienced true love
    Though I should have known, there was an end to it

    Read More


    Is that all we really are to you
    A use and dump
    All memories together
    Are they really nothing to you

  • vonzealworld_poetry 61w


    How I wish I can describe you in one word,
    But ooh!! Have got million descriptions about you,
    You're like my first best friend since I came into this world,

    You're the first friend who made me feel warm, Ever since you touched my little soft skin, though you were as tiny as I was.

    I will always need you because you give me the kind of warmth hen gives it's chicks using it's wings, during cold or rainy days.


  • brahmleen_ 61w

    High on black tie she wore
    Blue boots of courage dropping
    Silks of liberty flying along
    Plain zephyrs
    White collars of bravery upon
    Prussian blazer of thrive waking
    Slow creepers on the crumbled pieces
    Of life a freed sparrow she is
    Braids of poetry surpassing
    Down her soft lashes
    Growing petals of hyacinths.