444 posts
  • seraiah_smiles 47w

    "What Can I Utter?"

    What can I utter?
    Knowing Thee more compels me
    To love Thee greater.

  • mr_selfmuser 48w


    Hey.! How are you..?
    Are you missing the moments spent with me..?
    Can't tell about you but, I am missing it badly,
    I vowed to myself, no missing you !!,
    But my heart achs without you, and you are the only cure,
    Seriously, I had buried all those memories in my heart,
    Don't know how, it is being alive & reviving all the past,
    It is as painful for me as astonishing it is for you,
    Yes, I still have feelings for you, probably more than before, of which you have no clue,


  • lucy08 48w

    Humble yet Special

    Doesn't it feel amazing
    When someone shares the same fears as yours??
    When they admit their insecurities head-on??
    It just makes you feel like
    You have been made so similar to them
    You are so identical at the core level
    You feel more human with all these trepidations
    You no longer have to fear fear
    You are allowed to be yourself without being afraid anymore of the repercussions
    And most importantly
    This realization makes you feel so ordinary that
    you finally step down from your self-made lofty throne
    & choose to be one among your own people,
    putting on a rather modest cloak
    just like every ordinary being
    but still carrying your unique self as your only treasure
    And that is being "Humble yet Special"!!

  • diparg 48w

    My Darling,
    This season also will pass,
    Like the summer and rain,
    The void will fill with something else
    or by someone else..
    In this vast universe where
    everything happens for a reason.
    So when things end,
    Don't wonder too much-
    about how and why.
    Remember to trust thee self,
    And turn the page,
    Explore a new chapter of life,
    With hope, with faith.

  • soultxt 48w

    Sometimes we find hope
    in untrustworthy times
    in unknown places
    with known strangers
    It all happens suddenly
    Yet everything feels natural


  • xoliswamgidlana_ 48w

    Zen you know, we were all born as plain natural rocks and hurdles are like sculptures who break us, beat us and scatter us before we transform into beautiful sculptures. Life tends to subject us into it's rollercoaster of experiences and expose us of our attributes, in order for us to make mistakes to learn from and gain cognizance. When it breaks you, use all your pieces and create art. When it beats you, sing louder and dance to the beat. And when it scatters you, assemble yourself and regularly affirm your values. It's only then that you will begin to see a pattern of beauty in the dimension of living.

  • lonesome_artist 52w

    The Explanation

    James, you know in a way people are stories written by multiple writers in collaboration. Some writers were kind so they filled as much love as they could, others were a little harsh so they stuffed some betrayal and liar.

    James, a writer is anyone who creates a written work, although the word is used of creative or professional people who write, as well as people who write in various forms

    James, A journalist or journalist is a person who collects, writes and distributes news or other current information. The work of a journalist is referred to as journalism. A journalist may work on general issues or unique issues but most of them become specialist interactions, and together with other journalists, produce newspapers with a variety of topics. An example is a sports journalist who publishes news in the world of sports but this journalist is part of a newspaper that covers various kinds of news.


  • az_zahraa 58w

    Jamie, you know people leave but places don't
    They exist holding back all the memories of places and fragrances

    They exist, leaving you with a feeling of nostalgia that you either adore or dread to the core!

    Jamie, you know how we used to wish to never leave the seashore, how we love to sunbath in it's white sand with almost naked bodies, watching the sea waves dancing in melodies or rippling in circles and curves...

    You know how we used to build sand houses with our feet fitting in as perfect as a key and lock. I remember you once said, 'this fits just like us, yunno we complete each other', and we both chuckled happily but naively.

    Can you remember how we usually pick up seashells in plastic bags and pretended like these shells were sent to us to be adored and delicately cared for?

    And how we placed our bare hands and feet on the wet beach sand? Allowing it's warmness to pierce every bit of our fragile entities...

    Jamie, the breeze of the seashore still whispers in rhythms like it used to then, I still hear our names but I hear yours louder.

    Today, the breeze whispered our names into my eager ears but this time around, not together, not in a single sentence, not in a teasing way, No, not in that way that made our eyes shone brightly and our smiles sweet and lovely...

    But I still feel everything the way I used to. I still smell your hair wash whenever I feel the beach water on me and you know why...

    Jamie, everything is still the same. No, nothing has changed over there except that this time around, the seashore gets only one visitor, it doesn't mind though, cos it still sends down shells for two people...

    ©_the flower_

  • paruma 58w

    Stuck in this endless lonely hours
    Though the wall clock ticking on the hallway
    Never misses it's count
    I, in search of words to embrace the voice
    Encircling my head
    As emptiness begins to engulf me
    I seek for the foregone company
    To overcome this fearful anxiety
    Beginning to feed upon me
    leaving behind my unburied corpse
    Who delivers a monologue of despair
    Wanting to be listened
    But all that others hear is
    the unidentifiable whispers on the corridor
    And claims that my soul haunts


  • basobdatta 59w


    San you know, I borrowed this coat from my father who borrowed it from his father. Each time I put on this coat, I feel I am wearing the weight of two generations of MANHOOD. The weight of silent screams, job rejections, incomplete meals ....
    Girl, you are eight years old now. This coat is not only too big for you but those weights of passion, hardships and perseverance intertwined with its very threads will put strain on your tender shoulders. You will not understand it now but as you grow up, you will be able to feel it's weight more. You will be able to attach more with the petrichor of its nostalgia. But as your Darling Daddy, I would not let you down by not tending to your sweet tantrums. Here, wear it! And I will click a photo of yours!
    You see it's colour? It's dark black, which is associated with MANHOOD and harshness. But you girls are said to be soft beings who cannot deal with harsh situations. But that's not true. You too can deal with them by being soft. I want you to wear this coat on the first day of your work.
    Dear, MANHOOD is not about fighting, playing football and not playing with Barbie dolls. It's about being humane, being a HUMAN.

  • puranidiary 59w

    Thanku @writersnetwork for ❤�� (25th) ✨

    Just a try couldn't end it properly ಥ‿ಥ
    @writersnetwork @miraquill
    #monologue #wod #pod #man #coat #ceesreposts #writingcontest #creativearena #contest

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    San you know i borrowed this coat from my father, who borrowed it from his father. Every time i put on this coat, i feel like i m wearing the weight of two generations of manhood on my shoulders . The weight of silent screams clutched together in its epaulette keeps the account of my rolling tears and reminds me often to camouflage my shivering sweats under its collar. This throat latch attempts to slit my silken voice and my sentiments suffocates beneath the storm flap. It no longer provides warmth to my cold nerves rather my chest feels caged with bars of incomplete desires.
    These round buttons have failed to embellish the
    tattered stitches and now these musty threads recites the tales of persistent poverty and rejections . These belt loops are always eager to hold my waist with straps of flashbacks of failures and pushes me to face the challenges and i feel no escape from it.Its more like the drenched soil that constantly holds the roots of trees amidst the torment storms and pushes it to stand firmly.My fingers tends to find solace in its buttoned pockets in hazy winters but all i sense there is the aroma of perished dreams and ringing sound of few pennies that still hums about the hierarchical hardships.
    These sleeves keeps on scratching the rashes of responsibilities on my wrist , at days buckled sleeves straps are stained all red with my bleeding nerves and it compels me to get rid of it. I even tried to burn it in flames of my fury,to dump it in coffins of past but every single effort to detach its ambience led to an avalanche of guilt. Some mystical illusions dusted my skin with ashes of my own flambeaus . The grey colour of trench coat appears to snatch my rainbows but i still soak my
    soul under its gloomy sky. San, maybe i m too coward to give up this coat because deep inside i believe it carries the tranquil breezes of blessings,maybe its tightened collars gulp my sweats to strengthen my voice , maybe its long sleeves provides shelter to my blue scars , maybe these pockets preserves hues of hope to paint all perished dreams with brushes of renaissance.
    Slowly i learned to embrace its musty threads and bask my sinking heart with its warmth over and over again.

  • dinakarreddy 59w


    and the questions which ask "are you enough?"
    Are you earning enough? What about tomorrow?

    The sweat when your boss scolds about submission, the hustle when they ran to the hospitals for emergencies, unapproved leave letters it carried in pockets.

    Sometimes this coat looks like a burden to me. But, when I go home and my son runs to take my bag with his little hands, I feel it's okay.

    It's okay to take the burden for your loved ones.

  • mysterious_writings 60w

    Zee's past life;child

    It was an ordinary Sunday morningwhen zee looked outside her rusted old window and saw a little girl in the house next to hers, trying to Slice Apple perfectly into pieces of equal size. She smiled faintly and recalled her old self, as she used to be same like that cute little girl and she used to play around happily with her family and neighbourhood friends with no adult problems, no overthinking, no need of doing any Hard work.

    When I used to be a little one everyone used to love, adore, care for me, they used to bring gifts. Iam happy and carefree soul and heart is pure without any hatred in it.

    No one used to hurt me or play with my feelings as I don't know what feelings and emotions are at that small age. I used to sing for my grandpa grandma they used to teach me little little things very consciously they treated me as an angel. Tells me bed time Stories if my parents get angry by my mischievous they are the one who stands for me never they allowed my parents or anyone touch me. My parents are really are very caring and loving they used to have all their time for me they would take me to weekend outings. Outings are my best days memorable ones. My mom says don't go into kitchen if there are no one in it u will harm or hurt urself by doing some innovative thing. My mom used to teach me cooking she is my mentor, my Friend, my everything. My father too he used to say don't talk with unknown people, never trust anyone and take whatever they give u. Be strong, bold, smart, courageous...in times needed... everything every little thing is soo beautiful and there is only love care musti fun happiness...in it.

    But now everything changed as an adult expections, problems, overthinking, stress, no time for parents hard work hard work they too don't have time for me they have work work. Friends have their own life to meet up and let unsaid to be said. Hahaha life... my life has changed how good it would be if I get a chance to go back to my childhood life and be there forever...

  • monsteralive 60w


    "Jaime, you know people leave but places don't. They exist holding back all the memories, fragrance and the happiness and pain. People come and go but the place where we met for the first time or the last time, still hold those memories in them even after years it's still painful to cross those road, to go through those streets and to pass through the shops where we once ate together".

    "Yeah, you are right Carla, i have to move on...

  • loves_passion 60w

    Jamie, you know, people leave but, places don't. They exist holding back all the memories, fragrances and promises for being forever.

    Jamie, you know what, today, I was eating tea and biscuits sitting on the bench alone in the park and. I saw an old couple enjoying each other company. Then I suddenly felt the rush of emotions in my heart that even we both had made the promises of being together but, you left me alone even without informing me. I still remember that day, 15 Dec 2015, when we were fighting in a bus and. I said what will happen if I die first and, we started making fun of this topic like innocent children without thinking about the fact of this future. And suddenly, the bus met with an accident and. I found myself lying on a hospital bed seeing around with blurry eyes with the hope that everything is fine. But then I realized that we met with an accident and I started screaming like a mad person and started asking my parents, doctor, nurses about you but everyone are just standing with hopeless faces.

    Remembering, all these I got tears in my eyes, even the heartbeat I could listen to.
    The house, paintings, letters and everything in which we had promised for being forever. Had sold by my parents thinking that if I would be surrounded by these things my condition would get worse more. And they even forced me to marry and told me that it's for my better life only.
    But, you know Jamie, it is not an easy task to move on and forget you, it is not...

    I know my parents worry about me, love me and want me to live a happy life. But, it is not easy to sell the bond we had. I had never thought that the fight we had became a regret. I miss you, Jamie. I could feel your presence in my heart and, you are listening to me.
    I know it is painful to you when you see me in so much pain, but don't worry am trying my best to live my life and make you happy.
    But one thing is that I can't replace you with anyone in my whole life. In the end, hope to meet you soon in heaven.

  • _scribbler 60w

    Lockdown Diaries.

    It's been so long..
    we were apart,
    With lost mind and crying heart
    Missing all the meetings and Long talks
    Every single day was like a dreadful war

    Then, one day..
    He suddenly called and said-
    "hey, come outside the house,"
    I stood up and ran out
    My heart was beating so fast
    I was literally able to feel my heart
    pounding in my chest,
    current passing through my body
    And the moment I saw him..
    Rest of the world disappeared
    That missing feeling disappeared
    That ache in my heart disappeared
    All the pain was gone,
    And Everything just felt right.

    I always knew that..
    But that day I again discerned that,
    Maybe I'll survive but can't live without him��


    #miraquill #writersnetwork #pod #wod #monologue #writersbay

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  • indubadiger 60w

    "Jamie you know, people leave but places dont.
    They exist holding back all the memories,fragrance
    And rigid wounds which aren't visible they can be
    just felt but still with a gigantic wounds she is trying to hold smile. A smile which is just representing her body but not soul. Her fake smile made everyone to belive that she is okay!!

    #monologue #mirakee

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    Her Fake smile

  • k_kshitij 60w


    "Jamie, you know people leave but places don't. They exist holding back all the memories, fragrances, scars, bruises, a passage of time - it's art and architecture, fables, myths and tales (that failed to become story) and a faint history."

    "Places: they are cursed (or blessed) - to be mute spectators, and to be perennial. - Unlike humans their reminiscences perdure. The memory inscribed in places can never be obliterated."

    "They keep-safe the giggles of small children that played around the banyan trees that once held its ground. They hold the footprints of all the mammals, Reptiles, Birds and insects that have walked thereon. The stains of blood and sweat still embedded on its heart just under the cob-webs formed by time. The fading fragrance of all the flowers it buried in its womb waiting to permeate with just a touch. A touch that shall break the coarse shell formed with layers of some dust and a lot of time."

    "Places are introverts, waiting for that someone with who would listen to them without it requiring to speak. Decipher their silences without the fear of being lost in translation. Yet, those able to understand their language are now a rare breed."


  • iamviswam 60w


    Shy, choices we make in life have consequences but don't let that scare you away. If you are convinced that your happiness is in chasing someone/something, go for it. Just be sure that when you look back, you would have no regrets. Run after your goals, stop and embrace when you have achieved it and if you don't, atleast you didn't give up with out trying.
    Shy, make enough stories so you can die having lived fully.

  • paperwhites 75w

    Emily, you know poems are not just written words.
    They are the soft taps of reassurance for everyone that
    it's okay to be imperfect, unique and misunderstood!
    They are the drops of rain falling on the ground slightly whispering in your ears that it's just okay to have a fall.
    A sun trying to break out from dense clouds with a flush
    of sparkle winking you that it's okay to get stuck and
    make a way out.The will ventures of your wails!
    Poems are like trees burgeoning their stalks wide open in
    unknown skies scratching you the verses of being okay,
    when you feel free to be free.A bloc of earth and sky!
    The wind that blows in, facilely stirring you a smooch for
    it's okay to be easy rather than being a web or a complex!
    They're the chirps of spring waking you up to springtime
    Mass of leaves twirling in the yellow hue when fall falls in
    A heat stroke of summer taking you in the ocean-dreams
    Supple spouts of snow shaping arcs of your nose in red
    They're the language of heart and the voice of soul
    They're the promises of the sun and the moon
    Sonnets of love and pain emitting sequins of sentiments!
    Poems are the prayers of dawn to a beautiful sunrise and
    the decor of dusk to a beautiful sunset!



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