13447 posts
  • boundless_stories 17m

    Jab baat self-respect ki aayi,
    Toh Maine apne pahle pyaar
    ko v Muaaf na kiya, Tum toh
    phir bhi dusare number pe ho.


  • aparnamemoir 19m

    When I was young my mom gave me a frock made up of plastic roses and a basket full of hopes. As the days went by the roses becomes tarnished and the frock gets torne but the basket full of hope remains. I never thought I will use that basket in my life. But the days come by when my heart got broken the first time, when I thought I can never love again, when the love don't seem enough, when I hated my self I always picked up the hope from the basket and stitched on my heart. I found that life is not like a journey of train where the stops seems alluring and the destination can be find. But the hault in life is a breaking point in your life and the destination is the one whose name you can't find. And today again I am at my breaking point and searching for my mom's basket but plastic roses are only what I can find.....

  • muskaanbhatt_ 19m

    Poem from my book (THE UNKNOWN DRUG ADDICT.
    Addiction a thin line between life and death)
    Based on today's generation.
    Stay away and stay safe.
    #addict #quotes #poems #miraquill #wod #pod #writers #drugs @writersnetwork @miraquill_assistant @miraquill

    Read More

    The Addiction (Hobby turning into addiction)

    He started as a hobby
    But ended up as a foggy,
    He didn't knew how bad it will trap
    He didn't knew he will get a timeless nap,
    From jeers to bad insults he got so much to suffer
    His life was getting so much tougher,
    Everyone left his side except his mom and bride
    Everytime he getting flashbacks of suicide,
    He tired to get rid of all
    But his mind again recall,
    He tried to bear that killing pain
    But ended up injecting in vain,
    His habits made him a lier
    He whenever fulfilling his desire,
    Years of addiction worsen his health and faith
    Always getting high and seeing some sort of wraith,
    Still He unable to end up his affliction
    finally he understood his hobby turned out an addiction.


  • dnswords 22m

    Shayad अब लगता हूं मे Shayar !!


  • atiya_warsi 45m

    Don't rush, let yourself heal.


  • wycliffascending 1h

    Finding Myself

    In silence drowns the heart, swiftly does the night slip away,
    It won't be long till the sun's enlivening eye serves the dawn,
    Darkness will flee, daylight will smile, still, I will wake up a ghost,
    Unseen, unheard, unattended, like a rain-less cloud waving by,
    But while I consider, across yonder dales, for many a lost wonder,
    I see the unseen babbling brooks run softly into the silent river,
    Then the river, relentless on its course, pour its soul into the sea,
    Maybe, shall I follow thee, O happy river! Let's sail the hills together,
    We both yearn to pour out ourselves, so lead me to the warm ocean,
    To that place where I can wholly drown myself to find myself.


  • nirvanabharga0 1h


    Somewhere in between
    breathing n gasping, choking n breaking;
    I've lost everything but nothing Deva.


  • dnswords 2h

    Jab tak aap dimag se khali honge

    Tab tak aapko khalipan hi mahsus hongaa

    Chahhe aaj baaju me hajar kyo na hoo


  • sproutedseeds 2h

    PASTORAL poem

    It is a pride
    to go on a ride
    passing through memories wide
    of moments in the village alongside
    rivers, waterfalls and fields besides
    mountains and valleys for sun to hide
    Every home happy with elders to guide
    whenever youngster find it difficult to decide
    their presence made us keep worries aside.

    Joint family gave a secured feeling
    Every wound or worry had a healing
    with comforting words always appealing
    to each member supporting and agreeing.

    Now in a neutral family
    nobody has time for each other actually
    for parents are busy with their job in reality
    lack of attention kids behave unmannerly
    Money and status has snatched peace really!

  • a_franteen_writer 2h

    Flowers fade/sky sail's and soars/connoisseurs creep cries/silences scream/
    Bewitching beauty/saddening sunset/a cream colored cottage/ lusty loneliness/dingy darkness/wavering waves/tall trees twinkling/colours clinking/stars sewn seraphic/wounded wine/ poached peaches/sweet scents.
    16th October 2021
    The sky was grey today. It didn't speak like it used to. It slowly turned lavender with a gem sewn into it. Even the trees were silent. The gentle humour grew faintly, with each ascending hour in the book of time, from seconds to minutes to hours. Some oranges and reds sneaked their way into the tiny house on the lonesome hill, splashing it's way through the windows queerly. They didn't seem to have lost their way neither did they find one. In the gentle innocence of a child they hid in my languid eyes and black short hair, turning golden after the rendezvous.

    Flowers faded, even in a pool of water with ample sunlight. They weren't meant to live but I forced them to. Though they lost to the desires of time and death, still the sense of saving a life form perceived in my heart; the flowers were abandoned by some stoic lovers as they too, had lost to their own lovers. A lover abandons another lover in a different form. So I picked them up gently yesterday, to retrieve and find traces of some leftover love but it only led me to overwhelming lust and precarious desires.

    The little cottage praised by the soaring wind stood firm upon the hill, where I lived with a library of thoughts and emotions, all breathing in the restless words of a forgotten poetess, who still breaths but has lost all her blood in her veins to the ink pot in which she dipped her peacock feathered quill and wrote till the early hours of the day, disturbed by the rising dawn and the falling night.

    On such an evening she lied to the cities of youth and recklessness so that they could abandon her and leave her in her chaos; ruins of her former self. She built herself one by one, piece by piece; a Michelangelo perfecting her David, and so well did she make her ruins into the little cottage, fate and destiny resigned from her life forever.

    She still lives with me like a haunting spirit, a dream that we all live in, and seldom leaves the cottage draped in sleek cream colored hues, stained with the faltering kisses of her former love, and the faltering kisses of the dusks and dawns in which she rekindled her light every night, only to be distinguished the next morning.

    The waves of the sea will still clammer, the sun will still rise, the flowers will still bloom, even if she and me go out of everyone's sight.

    /The stars shine/the moon sings lullabies/the seas sing ballads for the nights/ you and me still fight to survive./

    -- a_franteen_writer

    Peace ��️

    #pastoralpoem #miraquill #writersnetwork #ceesreposts #pod #wod #nature

    Read More

    Pastorally bleak


  • kingdomdelight 2h

    My Beloved's Love, mine country, mine home

    Overloaded like a donkey with work,
    I stubbornly halted
    Enough is enough,
    I thought
    Pondering papers, slowly fade
    An eagle cries,
    crystal clear
    with eyes lifted UP
    I beheld heavens glorious golden glory
    A breathtaking BLUE curtain sky opens
    Let the Bridegroom leaves his bedroom
    and the bride her bridal chamber
    The windows of delightful dreams and joys
    appear with open arms
    A bright warm welcome
    while white soft comfort pillows of rest,
    gently and slowly twirls and turns mine way

    The wind wisely whispers my name
    Wildflowers wink and colour my trail
    The unshakable Mountain murmers mine melodious name
    His strong sensitive whispering Voice invites me
    The pile of work, forgotten like an old memory it slowly fades
    In the cleft of the mountain
    His strong arms surrounds me
    I am safe
    Against His rocksolid chest,
    I willfully lean against,
    His broad shoulders and chest
    In mine Beloved's arms,
    for ever, there is true rest.

    A stream of living sparkling water
    galloping like wildhorses
    Racing for bold fearless freedom
    Suddenly the Wind's right hand grabs me,
    by mine weaker hand
    We dance and laugh,
    while beautiful butterflies bedazzlin' dance
    Echoes of laughter
    runs excitingly and rapidly,
    through the tummy,
    the cave of great laughter and wonder
    like playing children
    Laughter echoes louder and louder within
    Untill one's body shakes uncontrollably

    A pure strong sunlight ray wait
    At the next opportunity, graps mine hand
    A tender warm smile, melts mine heart
    While a river of joy
    the canyon of work below

    On eagles wings,
    mount up
    Come UP higher!
    The majestic mountain top of grace and love!
    His presence like a Holy dove!

    Oh, my Love is waiting !
    On the mountain top!
    In a cabin of pure holy love
    Where is mine Beloved love
    I search only for him!
    His love
    takes all my little fears
    In a moment away
    His presence,
    makes me, ONE, with Him
    His love,
    tender and soft like a dove
    His garment,
    like rose pedals to mine broken heart
    His fragrance,
    leaves me for wanting, more and more of Him
    Oh my Beloved, my Love won't you forever stay!

    In stilness and silence
    I feel Your love the most!
    a Gentle breeze caresses mine heart and soul!
    In Your eyes, the moon captures mine
    Galaxies explodes
    Makes me shine like the morning star!
    Your Words warm and true on mine lips
    Mine heart pounds
    His heart beat, sounds, just like mine?
    Flying high over the valleys
    Diving into the deep dark blue oceans of truth
    I have found, the pearl, of great worth
    Lord, have Your perfect way, inside mine heart!

    Oh, take me to the Mountains!
    Oh, take me to my Beloved love!
    A place that abbreviates and isolates me from the lost and dying world
    Wrap me, inside the strong wind of Your amazing love
    Made me, galop like the wild horses
    Let me run boldly!
    Boldly to Your green meadows
    Meadows of evergreen, rest and peace

    Over hills, through dark valleys
    untill i found my Beloved love,
    The place of eternal rest
    In the arms of mine Beloved Love
    I am for ever home
    Oh, Lord have your perfect way
    Let me yield and surrender, to Your everlasting love
    My beautiful Beloved
    My Rose of Sharon
    My King and Lord


    Pastoral poetry originated in ancient Greece when the poet Theocritus started writing about rural life and nature in the countryside.A pastoral poem focuses on the fantasy of withdrawing from modern life to live in an idyllic rural setting. No matter the form or structure the poetry takes, it always explores country life.

    --Today, write a short pastoral poem.--

  • luchingbakshetrimayum 2h


    My life is nothing
    but a Silhouette,

    Keep living
    by my dreams,

    Only for someone
    to fit in,

    Somedays! Sometimes!...


    Luchingba Kshetrimayum

  • nirvanabharga0 2h

    Soul sprouts on feeding love.


  • jelly_hub 3h

    शब्दों में इतनी ताक़त कहां,
    मैं तो अपनी ख़ामोशी लिख रही...

    @Shadow of Luv

  • nirvanabharga0 3h


    Irreplaceable "you".


  • beensn 4h

    Right & wrong

    Who defines what is wrong & what is right?
    Does it depends on the doer or the result?
    Right and wrong are so cunning,
    Takes side of the person, place, situation & timing.
    Defined by the expectations of others,
    Depends on the power, position and status.
    Right and wrong are so flexible,
    They keep interchanging their places & are negotiable.
    I am confused seeing them playing mono act,
    One performs the dual role of wrong and right.
    Don't worry much about what and what not,
    Right and wrong are like the spinning wheel, knows when to halt.

  • fatema153 5h

    Where the stars are visible
    To embellish the nights
    With the beautiful shine,
    Where the trees are standing
    Firmly in a queue to provide
    Shelters to the birds,
    Where the rivers are flowing
    To let the fields flaunt
    Wonderful greenery,
    Where the flowers are spreading
    Fragrance all around along
    With the blowing wind,
    Where the day begins with
    The very first ray of the sun
    Spreading hope filled shine,
    Where still peace resides
    In every heart working
    Hard to live life happily.


    Thanks a lot @writersnetwork for the kind repost

    #pastoralpoem @writersnetwork #writersnetwork #miraquill #pod @heartsease @anshikainks @soulfulstirrings @thesunshineloves #ceesreposts

    Read More


  • edward_3355 15h


    Countless rise and fall with valor
    Seemingly unstoppable their fervor
    While I fall with increasing pallor
    And lose my will to savour


  • kingdomdelight 1h

    #The Word
    #Food they know nothing about

    Read More

    Food they know nothing about

    A monologue is a long speech by one person in a conversation which is used to express lofty emotions or to address another character or the audience.

    --Complete the monologue starting with---

    Over the years, I have developed this strange relationship with food. While in school I hardly ever ate in peace and I was always rushing to one place or another. School, playground and events always seemed more enticing than food. As I went to college, street food became my go-to option...But now, I gotto tell you the truth. I have come to know more and more about the food that Jesus told his disciples about. Some will be curious, some not, while other who believe and discover that "awesome food" will be truly blessed!

    It must have been on a very, very, warm summersday, just me saying.
    Just outside a little town, at the water well.
    Jesus was waiting, while his disciples went in town to get some food.
    Funny, they never mention what they had bought for lunch, that day? May be a warm bread loaf with fish? Perhaps, who knows? I believe Judas Iscariot was caring the money pouch, don't you think so? Oh, while waiting, Jesus was talking to a women at the water well. a Total stranger.
    Amazingly, he told her about water that will never let one thirst again! Wow that sounds awesome, don't you think! Yup, it is true, actually, once we drink of that water, man you'll never wanna drink anything els! Like a little child, I can imagin, how this women, was impressed, shocked and amazed at the same time! Why? Because Jesus knew so much about her, he even knew she had five husbands! Nothing is hidden with Jesus. But the beauty of Jesus presence is, that Jesus never condemns a person. He truly did came to save and not to condemn people. Wow, how marvelous that women went and called, the whole town, and brought them to Jesus untill they believe for themself. Oh, it's one thing to hear a message and it's a whole different story when you believe it for yourself! Oh, I tell you the truth!

    Jesus was a total stranger, bringing Heaven to earth, at that moment in time, at the water well. Wow unbelievable, but true!
    When the disciples got back, they were amazed too? They thought, he had something, already to eat? But it is written he told them I have food they know nothing about ? Once we discover that Jesus is the Word, the living manna! We'll eat His Word daily and our spirit man will get fed! We become strong in the Lord! The joy of the Lord, is our strenght!

    Jesus is the living bread of heaven and in the Lord's presence, He supernaturally fills us with "food" that don't let our spirits hunger anymore! For it is written; "The Lord is my Shepherd and we shall not want(crave) We shall not live by bread alone, Jesus said but by every Word that comes from the mouth of God. God's Word never returns void and always accomplished exactely what it had been sent for. Praise the living God! Amen .How marvelous the Word of God!


  • kingdomdelight 1h

    Born again

    A monologue is a long speech by one person in a conversation. It is mostly used in dramatic mediums like play to express a character's innermost thoughts.

    --Complete the monologue starting with---

    Zen you know, we are all born as plain natural rocks and hurdles are like sculptors who break us, beat us and scatter us before we transform into beautiful sculptures. Life really starts only when we receive a new heart. When our heart of stone turns into a heart of flesh.
    Beating with compassion for the things that matters the most in life! God !
    The things of eternal value ! We are by God's grace and mercy, the eternal, sculptures of God's images. To become, we only have to simply apply His living word to our life. His word active and alive.
    His word never returns void. He Prunes and cuts, all the unwanted things, from our life.
    So we will be able to bear much more fruit. God the Author and Finisher of our life and faith.
    We of course, feel every needle prick, in the begining of the flesh!
    Oh, the flesh is so selfish and such a cry baby! Throwing tantrums of pure earthly dust!
    We feel every sharp edge cut. Those slicing, us away, little by little! Iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens the other. Silently, pealing us like an onion. Oh, how our life turns into an atmosphere of fears and pity party tears. While layers and layers, fall over time, dead to the ground. Silly, for it was merely pieces of dust!
    At the begining, we feel the most, because, we are still hard and stubborn like a natural rock.
    But when we finally die to the flesh, we transform into the most beautiful sculpture...
    One who stands firmly on a strong foundation of pure solid rock. All glory to the living, Lord. Amen
    You see, Zen we all are born plain but we have to be born again. Born by the Spirit of God !
    Oh, all those born of the Spirit became unbreakable, untouchable and unstoppable for God's Kingdom. They will shine with His eternal glory for ever and ever. Glory to God. Amen.