#imagery

787 posts
  • a_franteen_writer 4w

    So this one is a repost. I decided to repost this because honestly... I really love this piece... So I decided with some corrections let's post this again and I did.
    .
    #miraquill #writersnetwork #imagery #hyperbole #ceesreposts #pod #wod #share
    @writersnetwork
    @miraquill
    .
    #death #emotions #poems #writers #miraquil

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    More and More

    More and more,
    They want more,
    Half rotten flesh smeared across the bloody door,
    Where skin ripped apart
    Found its abode
    Oxygenated body robust from maggots of blood thrust, black eyed, savour and devour the corpse,
    Tracing back to the veins lying superficially,
    In jars of muscles and bones cut from ebony,
    Scraped of their marrow,
    Ivoried from TNT finely structured and
    Bombarded by felonies beyond humanitarian censorship or control.

    From the hell's brink
    Chastisement pours to cut of your souls,
    Satanic rituals of occult birth rise to shatter your senses, and seek for refuge in animosity,
    So as to fulfill the accomplishment
    Of fertility to brazen and become barren,
    Only to harvest cracks that seep and perchlorate,
    The waters of devil activities and breathe in the forbidden air of poisoning brutality,
    Vivisected carefully to decompose and compress a handsome ransom of faces jolted to master a pestering smile,
    Plastered all over the periphery of those dirty mouths.

    Their smiling swords strike with apathy on some weakened strands of existence,
    That burn and burn and melt into broiled hides,
    Circumambient all over till the peripheral vision goes,
    Infinity approaching
    Walls that never stop moving,
    Abiding by no law of physics,
    Keep pushing the remains into a pot
    To be rectified and resurrected
    Deep frying "it" to superhumane division wreaking vengeance; sociopathic, with fake emotions.

    So now what do I do?
    To not end up like this unfortunate counterpart, that bore holes in empty walls?
    What do I do to not fall in the pot and become a delicious delicacy of the wildly untamed?
    What do I do to protect the little beans that have sprouted in the garden of eve?
    What do I do to stop an emotional murderer?
    What to I do to stop from asking and being afraid of these dirty fairy tales?
    Fairy tales that are too true to be true?
    Fairy tales of demons that slice benevolence and somehow harvest the seeds of hatred?
    ©a_franteen_writer

  • rahoof 4w

    This has been an ongoing thought.
    Why am I so afraid to meet new people?
    Asking often, and often getting confused.
    "Am I too cowardly or am I too tired to give trust?"

    Feels as if I'd known enough people in life.
    And from what I've had - I've had enough.
    Thus I lend my rooms limited,
    and my trust shallow.
    So when you ask,
    "Would you be able to lend the world another chance?"
    I could only show you,
    The monumental cuts of my bare back,
    And the rusted knives I pulled out from the clenched shut hands of the cruel world.
    So when you ask,
    "Would you lend the world another chance?"
    I would rather let my silence speak,
    And let your words stutter.


    ©rahoof

  • rahoof 4w

    My cravings for Chaos
    .....................................


    Its blank like a blatant page, not even damped
    by rain or teared by wind, just plain - blank.
    That’s what life had become,
    Like sambar without spices or veggies,
    Not even salt and kaduk.
    One could call it tap water on cooker,
    Served on rice without Uppu.
    Yet I am not craving for adversities.
    But I cant find feelings to write,
    Emotions to convey,
    Or hurt to cry about.
    In difficulty I prayed for peace.
    Now I have it.
    I remembered I was a poet fuelled by hurt.
    Pain brought me to Poetry.
    Now, I feel non poetic,
    I feel ordinary.
    Maybe my reign of poetry is over,
    Or am I secretly craving for Chaos?

    ©rahoof

  • ayu004_ 5w

    Blueberry muffins..

    Scrumptious & fluffy with content ,
    A crispy bite of the golden baked ,
    Oozing blueberry sweet -rain batter, Leaking down my throat,
    Lumpy ; Frosted with whip cream of foams from sea,
    Soft and delicate; Just like the feathery clouds in an autumn morning..

    ©ayu004_

    ©ayu004_

    #imagery
    @miraquill
    @writersnetwork

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    Blueberry muffins ...

    Scrumptious & fluffy with content ,
    A crispy bite of the golden baked ,
    Oozing blueberry sweet -rain batter, Leaking down my throat,
    Lumpy ; Frosted with whip cream of foams from sea,
    Soft and delicate; Just like the feathery clouds in an autumn morning..

    ©ayu004_

  • basobdatta 5w

    October

    Cerulean blue skies falling for
    Brown leaves
    Each rustle and swish
    Is a tickling whisper
    Of fallen dreams, fallen hopes
    And fallen times
    I have fallen too
    Fallen out of love
    My lips are chapped
    My kisses like the leaves--
    Dry.
    ©basobdatta

  • nocturnal_enigma 6w

    * 19.10.2021; 5.53 P.M (Malaysia)

    #Acrostic #Poem #NuEmAcPo

    * Gustatory imagery @miraquill #gustatory #imagery #wod

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    GUSTATORY ~

    Gluttony; I eat a lot and become fat.
    Unable to resist my food cravings.
    Sweet taste of chocolates and...
    Turkish Delights; Plus, some....
    Arabic sweets: Konafah & Baklava.
    The cold ice-cream cool throat.
    Oh, macarons taste good too!
    Ramyeon that spicy, but, tasty!
    Yummy foods are too many!

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

  • _gk_07 7w

    Among the faded woods,
    I heard a lullaby in the autumnal
    winds,
    Caressing a love tale of autumn
    in my heart's strings.

    Dandelions in the soothing breeze,
    With scent of home fires burning up,
    Gusts of wind gently knocking on windows,
    Elicits a smile with it's velvety touch.

    Brown rusted leaves glow gold
    under the warm setting sun,
    Raiment gold and brown leaves swirl,
    Spells woebegone secrets of
    summer's sultry heat,
    Teasing me with nature's kisses.

    In sweet heavy scents of apple
    orchards ,
    Chestnuts in yellow and oaks dressed
    crimson , the lovely maple in scarlet ,
    Whispers promises in the evening glow.

    Before the chill of winter haunts autumn's caress with melancholia,
    I saved the lovely token to steer
    along the road,
    In curling sunshine with fluttering
    yellow butterflies,
    Embracing the season of love.
    ~gk
    ©_gk_07

    #wod #life @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #imagery #pastoralpoem


    Edit: Thank you @writersnetwork for your kind read and repost.��

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    Autumn sang me a lullaby of love,
    In an archaic idyllic setting,
    Whispering the way to utopia of
    ecstasy, leading to quixotic life.
    ©_gk_07

  • joybirdpoetry 7w

    Fox

    Where are you going red?

    Mr Fantastic you loiter
    plan your daring escapade
    crouched against the tattood ink
    of a moonless night
    two green eyes glowing
    like oxidised uranium glass
    a night watchman with bushy tail
    and a cat burglar cunning.

    Where are you going red?

    You softly tip-toe tip-toe
    lift your whiskers to the wind
    and listen with your sonar
    an extraterrestrial visitor
    on an interplanetary expedition
    memorising fault lines
    beneath your softly padded paws.

    Where are you going red?

    Does a vixen hide beneath the earth
    pressed warm against the soil
    waiting for your shift to end
    her senses finely tuned
    small ears twitching
    to the exquisite sound
    of you catching her supper?

    Where are you going red?

    Will you grieve this night
    once it is over?

    Joy
    ©joybirdpoetry

    #patheticfallacy #pod #imagery #writersbay #writersnetwork #miraquill

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    Fox

    Where are you going red?

    Mr Fantastic you loiter
    plan your daring escapade
    crouched against the tattood ink
    of a moonless night
    two green eyes glowing
    like oxidised uranium glass
    a night watchman with bushy tail
    and a cat burglar cunning.

    Where are you going red?

    You softly tip-toe tip-toe
    lift your whiskers to the wind
    and listen with your sonar
    an extraterrestrial visitor
    on an interplanetary expedition
    memorising fault lines
    beneath your softly padded paws.

    Where are you going red?

    Does a vixen hide beneath the earth
    pressed warm against the soil
    waiting for your shift to end
    her senses finely tuned
    small ears twitching
    to the exquisite sound
    of you catching her supper?

    Where are you going red?

    Will you grieve this night
    once it is over?

    Joy
    ©joybirdpoetry

  • murryben 7w

    October arrived early this morning,
    A superstar in gucci gold robes,
    Whispering sweet promises of
    a full stacked granary before the
    Sun's nightly slumber. My thoughts
    wander towards the empyrean, a
    flamboyant enchantress dressed in
    cobalt blue, she floats and sings the
    bashing Sun a serenade, I think I feel
    the tip of my ears burning. The birds,
    in jubilation, breaks into a chorus of
    hallelujahs, a tune that sets my heart
    racing. It is morning like this Peace
    finds me, beneath the wizened tree in
    sweet repose, when the Earth's a tranquil
    mother, waking to the sound of her children's
    laughter. She smells of damp soil and
    rosemary thyme, a concoction
    my nostrils in acceptance sniffs to.
    And so I sit in awe, tasting the bliss of
    solitude on my tongue's tip while
    the lone leaf the old tree clings to, dreams
    of a spring that was promised to him.

    ©Meri Murry
    14.10.2021

    #patheticfallacy #wod
    #imagery
    #podben #benecc

    @miraquill you don't know how much this means to me. Thank you for the pod ��

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    An October Morning

  • euphrasiafaedra1 7w

    Thousands of snow flakes
    Falls on dead bodies
    Witch at the snake gliding tower
    Mutters and butters


    Her miracles
    While princess
    Writes her sleepy diary

  • ashamurali 7w

    TASTE OF ANGER.

    Anger is an emotion that first destroys the self before harming the other person.

    This poem is written in Gustatory imagery where it appeals to the reader's sense of taste by describing something using a taste that the reader can recall.

    @writersnetwork @writersbay @miraquill #miraquill #imagery #wod #pod #ceesreposts #writersnetwork #writersbay #anger

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    TASTE OF ANGER

    Sourness of the bitter feeling,
    The anger within, brightly burning,
    The face, fuming and red with flourish,
    like having  a spicy chilly in the dish.
     
    Unable to digest the betrayal,
    Of the one who seemed so loyal!
    Mind filled with memories vivid,
    Like scalding the tongue with hot liquid.
     
    Hurtful actions, totally unanticipated,
    Filled with vicious hatred,
    Mouth stings with the harsh taste,
    With words uttered in haste.
     
    Anger is a poison powerfully potent,
    Than can destroy in a moment,
    One drop of it is enough,
    To destroy one, however tough!
     
    ©ashamurali

  • bellemoon99 7w

    Sweet

    The warmth fills your mouth, and soon you can feel the sweetness of the caramel sip inside.
    The crackling fire is a gentle lullaby in the background, and the blanket around your shoulders a comfortable haven.
    Careful, don't think too much, or the dream will break.
    ©bellemoon99

  • kasishakespeare 7w

    Fantasy

    I once thought what insect
    I would choose if I was given a chance to make a change
    Maybe a fly, but eww it flies everywhere in sewages, even at the restroom and it's associated with dirt
    And am a clean freak so it matters
    Mosquitoes cause pain so nope
    I won't choose it, because I hate
    Seeing a man's tears, they freak me out
    I think a butterfly would do the trick
    I imagine myself with the prettiest of wings
    Moving from one flower to another
    With two harmless horns
    Spreading love to the world
    But I will fail, before reaching flower
    Number 35, I have a phobia of hieghts
    ©kasi.shakespeare_49

  • mangowrites 7w

    The world of writers is filled by deep thinkers

  • mangowrites 7w

    My companion

    Soft, fluffy and plumpy like a bear
    With cute rounded ears
    Brown eyes that always reminds me of coffee
    Always there in times of need
    So huggable and cuddly

    Is my Teddy Bear

    ©mangowrites

  • msushil 7w

    Fleeting time
    And juicy mango
    Remind me
    The flavour
    That bussed
    My chapped lips
    To fill the crack.
    ©msushil

  • lovenotes_from_carolyn 7w

    This piece serves as my attempt at multiple recent challenges. Thank you so much for reading! Also, I need to request your patience in regard to reading/reposts, because as our cross country move is drawing near, my presence here will be sporadic for a month or two. Thanks for understanding and bearing with me. ♥️

    The Merchant Marine & His Irish Queen
    by lovenotes_from_carolyn
    A wild and winsome wayfarer
    Set sail with the Merchant Marines
    To a land called the Emerald Isle
    That's decked out in the loveliest greens

    'Twas perhaps the luck o' the Irish
    That led up to next event
    For there, in the naval office
    'Twas a gal who looked heaven-sent!

    A bright lass was she, named Jenny
    With brown hair and eyes of blue
    For him, it was love at first sight
    And I reckon it was for her too

    Yes, that was my gramps and my gran
    In a meeting designed by fate
    There's a whole lot more to that story
    But the hour is growing quite late

    Fast forward to one whole year later
    Oh that Irish lass, gramps sure did miss
    So he brought her back here, to the States
    Where they married, in wedded bliss

    They got on with the usual business
    Of living their day to day life
    And soon enough, gramps did discover
    He had a fine cook for a wife!

    She prepared all the food to perfection
    From hors d'oeuvres to roasted meats
    To veggies and soups and salads
    And of course, all the goodies and sweets

    Huge feasts she'd create to delight us
    Not a single time e'er did she fail
    For as soon as she'd bring out the food
    Cheers of delight would prevail

    Her pies were sweet and superb
    Her cookies, a chewy delight
    And she'd send us on home with the extras
    When we left at the end of the night

    In the chill of midwinter on Sundays
    I'd sit right by gran at her feet
    As she'd tell me the tales of her childhood
    While munching on goodies to eat

    By then, she had barely an accent
    But still, it was there in some way
    And oh, was I fond of her voice
    Which lives on in my heart to this day

    Looking back on these tender moments
    I recall the young Merchant Marine
    And I'm so glad he sailed off to Dublin
    And returned with his Irish queen.
    ©lovenotes_from_carolyn 10/12/2021

    #sundayc #momentsc #tenderc #grandma #imagery #wod #writersbay #writersnetwork #miraquill

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  • siddhant_scribbles 7w

    Venom

    I like that peculiar smell of unconfronted guilt in your breath, when your eyes stick to the floor and those hands fiddle around with a pen while you talk to me. Those lies, one after the other, have become your version of truth.

    It is as if there is a parallel universe out there, hidden from me. Only you can dive in and pick pieces of mouthwatering sweet deception, mix them with your words and feed my emotions.

    Despite knowing the hidden truth, I let myself fall into the trap once again. The delicacy becomes too lucrative to deny, even if sprinkled with venom...

    ©siddhant_scribbles

  • dee_kye 7w

    ������������ ��������������,
    �������� ������������ ���� ���� �������������� ������, ☕
    ������������������ ������������������, �������������� ����������.

    Camila crammed,
    Some coffee in my carmine cup,
    Marvelous americano, exhaled marvel.
    Odor of fondness, pupped,
    And I gulped a swig of it.

    Bitter yet pure,
    Smells as camaraderie caramel,
    Brown yet bright,
    Bangs as promising honey,
    Strong yet warm,
    Fondles as optimistic light.

    A mug of americano,
    Endowed an endearing afterglow,
    Sweetness of purpose,
    Scent of esteem,
    And canvas, of colours

    ©dee_kye







    #wordsporn #imagery #wod #writersnetwork #miraquill #ceesreposts #writersofmirakee #wordsplash #poetically #mirakee #poetry #mirakeeworld #writings #poemsoul #poet #colours #thoughts #coffee #writetoheal #words @writersnetwork @miraquill @woodnote @iamaselenophile @blurryface__14 @queen_butterfly @soulfulstirrings @fromwitchpen @murryben @shadowofthoughts

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    Marvellous Americano

  • iqujiger 7w

    //I am the mess:
    Of some crashed promises
    Some numb hopes
    Some rotten expectations
    Some faded dots(scars)
    Some pulsating moments
    Some forgoten desires
    I am the mess //
    ©iqujiger