23 posts
  • joybirdpoetry 33w

    Guardian angels

    We walked hand-in-hand
    at half-past five
    on a quiet afternoon
    where the foxgloves grew
    amongst the historical tombs
    the headstones eroded
    like the Sussex cliffs
    that reminded you of home.

    We made out gallant names
    like Barclay and Adelaide
    and Digby and Patience
    reciting them softly
    for fear of waking those
    who were resting in peace
    below chiseled granite
    the colour of river stones
    in a drought-dry October.

    Spying agile movement
    between rows F and G
    of the Presbyterian section
    we hesitantly approached
    from the western end
    beyond where the foxgloves
    nodded their tubular bells
    in the placid breeze
    where marble angels flew
    like Michelangelo madonnas
    towards salvation.

    It was here we came across
    a startling brown hare
    staring alertly at us
    her long ears pricked up
    out of curiosity or fear, or both
    before twitching her whiskers
    and bounding away nimbly
    to reveal to us
    a tiny gravestone
    the size of a cradle
    nestled in the ground.

    It was there lay little Tuesday
    beloved darling daughter
    of George and Josephine

    aged two years
    and six months.

    We drew in the sanctity
    and drew out the silence.

    And as the hare hopped away
    we stopped and gave thought
    to this cherished little girl
    who we knew not
    sleeping four score and ten
    beneath sweet green grass
    under a vast blue Australian sky
    where the wings of stone angels
    gently fanned the zephyrs
    as they kept guardianship
    over this precious child

    who was gone
    but on this day -
    this fine spring day -
    would not be forgotten.


    #october #colourc #writersbay #writersnetwork #miraquill

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    Guardian angels

    Spying agile movement
    between rows F and G
    of the Presbyterian section
    we hesitantly approached
    from the western end
    beyond where the foxgloves
    nodded their tubular bells
    in the placid breeze
    where marble angels flew
    like Michelangelo madonnas
    towards salvation.


  • nivyaangelin 81w

    Hello November,

    It's someone from this Earth writing to you, hope you're so excited to meet us again. Everytime you come, it's something ordinary always however. But last year, you met me, you gave a new day and memory to remember for lifetime. Happy Birthday to you, and this is so weird that presents aren't given by us but you give us everytime! And this time, make sure you're bringing me peace and health. Bring this world a virus free situation, bring my best friend, a wonderful birthday. Bring me my school back, bring my mom, a heart that is healed. Bring my sisters, a lot of love and care. Bring all the happiness that God gives you to take to this world. Bring much love and less hurt. Waiting to thank you next year for what you'll give me this time.

    With loads of expectations,
    A friend.

    @writersbay @love_whispererr @soulfulstirrings @starrdust @thelunareclipse #pod #writersbay #colourc #november

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    A new start,
    to make new memories,
    with old friends.


  • the_speccy_outsider 85w

    Time was running out and the noblemen weren't getting any victory, for the vengeful ones had taken over, intertwining their respective lives in order to perpetually collide, eventually. And thus the nomenclature of Heroes and Villains took place, creating a labyrinth of deceitful illusions.

    //The vile and macabre blackhole started to consume the galaxies of sanity and verity//

    Since childhood we've been constantly told that Heroes are good and Villains are evil. The one who saves everyone is a Hero and the one who creates obstacles for the Hero is the Villain. And we believed it! Put a fight, and the Hero sings the song of victory while the Villain walks the slippery path to defeat.

    //The eyes of a Villain often weep tears of a forlorn life//

    For everyone, the Hero is Blue, who confronts a Villain who is Red, for a Green Damzel in distress. A quintessential story for us to watch, read, listen and write. Inducing fear in form of a fantasy, which isn't true in reality. The ones who are outspoken, opinionated, straightforward, misunderstood, eccentric, imperfect, different are often termed as Villains. And the ones who succumb to societal norms are crowned as Heroes. Only hypocrites rule a narcissistic world.

    //I belong to a world where Heroes are considered as Villains and Villains are perceived as Heroes//

    Villains are alone like an empty room. Segregated from the zephyr of love and struck by the tornado of mist. They are the embers of a story. I miss them, if there isn't someone who's Grey yet pragmatic in a story. For one can always blame the Villains for all the mistakes one committed. How easy it is! One might never read, listen, watch or write a story that doesn't have a Villain. For who shall be held responsible for the struggles of the protagonists, putting them on the throne of success.

    But who are we to decide? Are we all perfect? Or is there really such a thing as perfection? Everyone wants to be a Hero. But it takes guts to be a Villain. To say that one is wrong. To admit no one is perfect in this imperfect world. I love Villains as they are relatable. They tell us there's still a chance to show remorse and look towards the path of redemption. To rectify the wrong deeds.

    It is a matter of perspective, I suppose. As whatever a Villain does, the same is followed by a Hero. Whether it is loving someone, fighting a plethora of dilemmas, going against the system, breaking laws and most importantly, taking a stand for yourself in order to get what you want. And the narrators often camouflage the lines between them. Providing an insight betwixt right and wrong, nugatory in nature. Not being inclusive at all. And blurring these lines is a quixotic practice, followed since generations. Yet, no conclusion is derived but the only thing one sees is a bigotry of Blame Game, and nothing else. Sadly!

    //Villains are what we call as the misfits, the wallflowers, the scapegoats, the anarchics and, the outsiders//


    #alone #zephyr #MondayMantras #time #belong #fridayfun #fear #sings #eyes #galaxies #mistc #colourc #labyrinthc #emberc #ffossil #daadigotyourback

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    I wish I could be
    A villain in someone else's story
    Allowing them to put all the blame
    For their misdeeds
    On me
    Relinquishing them from their sins

  • kin_jo 86w

    you once told me a story
    About places being haunted by demons and ghost
    But never knew, I was that place and ghost were the humans
    Because today,
    //I am haunted by humans//

    Your fear came true
    Being a daughter born, itself is a spew
    You taught me to live for our motherland
    Yet your daughter was slaughtered, without consent in Her sand

    They forget their own being
    And lurch the prey just for their vulnerable self
    No idea what fun they get, in screams and yelp
    But in their fun, my soul was left in excruciating knell

    Is this the price I pay for taking birth as a daughter?
    In the country, where we are termed as goddess
    Where is the temple, where I can freely preach with grace
    Where is the vigour? Where is the force?
    Where is your voice? Where are your roars?
    Stop this, before the evil bird seeds another daughter,
    I too was your daughter...

    " Will you forget me like my once same fated sister, was rewarded ?
    And silently sit and watch my stellar remmants, United
    My very innocence was ripped, taken granted
    My dignity was tugged, soul discarded
    Yellow light my family once had, faded
    Will you still lit candles and just stand regretted ? "

    #bookc #poD #poetrywednesday #colourc #writersnetwork

    *Here same fated sister is referred to Nirbhaya incident*

    // I am haunted by humans// is the line from my favourite book ' The Book Thief '

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    Will you forget me like, my same fated sister, was rewarded ?
    And silently sit and watch my stellar remmants, United
    My very innocence was ripped, taken granted
    My dignity was tugged, soul discarded
    Yellow light my family once had, faded
    Wil you still lit candles and just stand regretted ?


  • _mathematics 86w

    White, wings of peace
    the exact picture of
    you with leeway
    thoughts procuring
    my mind every time
    your eyes trick
    the vigor.

    Blue, Serenity of the soul
    water like virtue
    within you
    convince the
    soul with our
    togetherness vow.

    Green, A Jealous vixen
    the detailed love
    no-one could adore
    as you do.
    and the fiercely
    orders to affirm
    your right on me
    provoke wild

    Red, Ball of fire
    slaying the troops
    when your feet
    tap with mine
    on ball night
    igniting fire
    to half-blown cigars.

    Yellow, Warmth of sunshine
    the draped cloth
    with you in
    my arms, giggling
    suddenly pause
    morning sun
    urging bibulous essence
    printed on each other's
    body with passion

    Grey, an amalgamation of
    Sophistication and perspicacity
    combination of false hopes
    and guile sense
    we often bestowed
    each other with
    to undo the
    furies and agonies
    within ourselves
    as an individual.

    #pod #colourc #writersnetwork
    #mirakee @writersbay

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    Colors of made love

  • bclark2681 86w

    Fireball of Serenity

    Shade of red is my desired,
    Allowing the inner ball of fire
    To boil surfaced when music
    Of metal vibrates my ears,
    Yet caused is a sea of blue,
    Music creating serenity of the
    Soul so as to allow my being
    To withstand the world today

  • silverjade69 85w

    My Mom the Angel

    The Blue scarf she wears around her neck, means she has serenity of the soul.

    And, she never was Green with jealous vixen

    Her presence was the warmth of the Yellow sunshine.

    Now she wears the White wings of peace.



  • eurusgrey 86w


    Vengeance and compassion —
    a delicate juxtaposition,
    often misunderstood
    as the jealous vixen.
    She hurts, she torments,
    and she takes the role of karma
    when hope fades away.
    But she heals and cares
    for she has hues of love too.
    For some,
    an angelic soul,
    for some,
    a sinister demon;
    your shade
    is what decides the season.

  • pallavi4 86w

    Wings of peace

    Saw you in my dream today
    You were dressed as usual, in white
    And when I saw your olive branch
    I knew everything would be alright

    Your wings carried the heavy weight
    Of reconciliation, accord and peace
    Your pure form wore a cloak of concord
    Making all discord cease

    With you I saw white poppies
    Like lilies they bore no taint
    Their delicate petals ferried the load of
    Ending all strife - fit for a saint

    I saw myself folding a small paper
    Into a snow white crane
    And knew all agitation would end in the world
    There would be no torment or bane

    What better to represent white thought I
    Than an olive branch and a dove
    The universal symbol of unity
    One of truce, friendship and love


    30th of September, 2020

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- Lisa Cunningham

    #colourc #colour #white #wings_of_peace #peace #love @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee #writersbay

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    Please read caption

  • lucent_muse 86w

    She got the biggest smile
    Don't let it fool you
    She is a green vixen
    A jealous Diva

    She has the glowing eyes
    Don't let it fool you
    She is a green vixen
    A jealous Diva

    He got the warmest personality
    Don't let it fool you
    He is a green virile
    A jealous Diva

    He will make you feel like the world is yours
    He will make you feel like you are the only one
    Don't let it fool you
    He is a jealous Diva

    They will love you fully
    They can be a bit obsessed
    They make you feel alive
    But don't let it fool you
    They are jealous Divas

    They smile their way into your heart
    Then never let you go
    Claw out anyone
    That seems to be a threat
    They will say it's all for you
    Don't let it fool you
    They are jealous Divas.

  • go_win_the_hearts 86w


    /|| COLOURS OF LIFE ||/

    A cloth pure Ⓦⓗⓘⓣⓔ whereon cries a baby bright
    A lush Ⓖⓡⓔⓔⓝ light, childhood just a happy kite.

    A ball of fire Ⓡⓔⓓⓕⓤⓛ youth spent on love affair
    A vow is fair Ⓨⓔⓛⓛⓞⓦ adulthood is full of war.

    A Ⓑⓛⓤⓔ is cool oldish age ergo funky all rule
    A soul painful senile is Ⓖⓡⓔⓨ ending life's fuel.

    30th September, 2020


    #pod #WN
    @mirakee @writersbay

    Images credit goes to the rightful owner.

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  • jaya___ 86w

    My skin should be white
    For me to be a desirable bride
    My cheeks should be red
    Deserving of my husband's peck
    My hair should be black
    Long enough to pull after a smack
    My veil should be grey
    As I kneel five times to pray
    My womb should be green
    Fertile to produce harbingers of family esteem
    My mood should never be blue
    Forgetting myself for the whims of you
    In yellow of good fortune I should be draped
    Marital or otherwise I am fated to be raped
    Crimson of my sindoor and bangles
    Shattered my dreams in your thirsty tangles
    Gold of my dowry jewellery
    Always less enough to attract your mockery
    Thank you so much! For all these shades you forcefully painted on me
    So altered is my soul that I can't recall who I used to be...
    Copyright Jaya Harfkaar 30-9-20

    For the concerned initiative by the sensitive @kehta_hai_joker #MirakeeForHathras

    #colourc @writersbay
    #poetrywednesday #pod #genuine_readers #daadigotyourback

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  • nivyaangelin 86w

    As serenity

    been lost,


    wilted out,

    love been

    aching, I

    wait for the

    new wings

    of peace

    to grow.


  • ashamurali 86w

    Monorhyme poem is a poem where all lines have the same end rhyme.

    Menopause triggers mood swings which is not easy to explain. Family's support is crucial.

    #poetrywednesday #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #colourc #menopause @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay #readthisj

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    Crazy and hazy

    Women behave erratically in middle age,
    she needs lot of support in this stage,
    her book of life pauses on this page,
    at one moment she is calm as a sage,
    and the next she can get red with rage,
    Understanding her moods may assuage!

  • outofleague 86w

    #her #hues #colourc #poetrywednesday
    Picture Courtesy : Mark Adriane /Unsplash

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  • antheia_ 86w

    #colourc #poetrywednesday

    A six line mono rhyme poem.


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  • seirios 86w

    A heart of gold seems soft yet bold.
    Cascades of emotions old, in a band of stardust you enfold.
    Blue skies can only behold all the bits of serenity your soul hold.
    As the pink planets around you rolled, you poured your heart into a shapeless mould.
    Yellow rays fell on a smile unsold, melting the boundaries around a heart ice cold.
    Drapped in the stories that never got doled, you kept singing the song made of verses untold.

    –Kiara ��

    #PoetryWednesday #colourc

    I love your heart.

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  • the_lost_melody 86w

    • colours and stories •

    / She's angel of peace
    dressed in white
    in arms of the lover
    she loved
    since she was sixteen

    fly high
    they say
    may afterlife be a journey
    beautiful and sweet

    a boy plays
    in the puddle of the rain
    screaming joy
    as the heavens above
    shower droplets of euphoria

    serene like ocean blue
    his little heart beats
    for wilderness anew

    she's green
    the colour she loathes
    when her eyes meet
    the stranger across the room
    draped in the arms
    of someone she knew

    he's fire
    burning red
    the colour he once adored
    until she left him
    for reasons unknown

    warmth that never fades
    smile that brightens
    up the whole room
    she's my forever sunshine

    my granny,
    who makes my world
    a better place to be

    a blend
    of sophistication and shrewdness
    he's an old soul
    worn out
    from the grey scales
    hoping to be free
    of innate desires
    in the field of
    daffodils and lavender /


    [ colours and stories, people in life, stay little, live long through verses and poetry, songs and art. it's the way we are remembered, the way someone is but a
    song away ]

    #colourc @writersbay

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  • pepper_16 101w


  • thelunareclipse 101w

    Inspired by @autumnbreeze post
    "A list of things that are grey"


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    my emotions became
    empty and grey,
    veiled with colourless,
    misty days.
    I tried to shine and bloom
    through the coldness
    and gloom
    of this apathetic ,
    discoloured world,
    but no one noticed it,
    drowned in
    his own despair.