23 posts
  • rekhuu 44w

    #mondo #wod

    EC ��

    Thank you for the like WN ��


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    Why is the sunlight so serene?
    It is a spellbinding piece of nature's artwork


  • santor_674 45w


    Sunshine dazzled over a small aperture in my casement which camouflaged my dark curls and gleamed it into a brunet. Whilst , I was stirring my cup of espresso whose aroma quivered over my nostrils.

    The sun painted an exquisite mosaic with vivid hues of carmine , salmon and amber mending themselves together with several contours of the environment.

    I settled myself over the lawn chair with the enthralling sip of the hazel espresso with a naturally sweet savour. When the zephyr swished over it , the liquid grew vibrant making waves. My hands felt quite cold and numb and my feet felt chilly because of the moist grass blades watered an hour before.

    The evening seemed pleasant with the resonance of chime of the Japanese bells wavering back and forth but at a sudden an unpleasant creaky sound heard when the birds fell asleep over the branches by the sun's caress over their soft feathers.

    I followed the sound disturbing the whole sense of silence and found it to resonate from the old banyan tree with an empty cage hanged over the part of its bough.

    A rusted iron cage , oscillating for years , still remains strong. Though the birds kept in there were let free years bygone - their fragrance ; their obscure withered feathers; their mellifluous chirps ; the scraped remnants of the bars by them remain still in that empty cage which is now completely crowded with their imaginary presence.

    As I see them, nostalgia hit the Garth of the withered roses of my heart which poured down the fluid of empathies into unusual tears.
    ' Circling 'round the Banyan tree ; we search of a place to conceal ourselves to win over "hide and seek" but everytime we hide behind the tree, the caged birds chirp aloud in excitement ruining our game. Our mothers would come about when we sit exhausted to make us feel pleasant with the soft kisses and enchanting mango shake. '
    And now it's 6:06 pm , I stand before a filled yet empty cage!

    // How innocent we were in our childhood of thinking ourselves to be enclosed and caged in the lap of our mothers contradicting the fact of our present where we are caged within our uncertainties in a large dorm of four walls//

    //Childhood flavoured of a rich liquor never brewed that stayed in our lingua even after years of experience ; while adulthood flavoured of a Barley Wine - all bitter//

    I realised from the empty cage of how uncertain we are - for we had been betwixt paradoxes - where at one side we feel elated for a hopping caged bird and at the other side , mourn for a bird that flew high above with its flock just before being enclosed by the verge of death!

    #mosaicc #childhood #paradox #imagery #combination

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  • miss_silentlyweird 45w

    Quickly written.Too busy and I'm running out of time to write...

    #roarc #imagery
    #mosaicc #wod
    #miraquill #cage
    @writersbay @miraquill

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    H̴e̴a̴v̴y̴ ̴C̴l̴o̴u̴d̴s̴

    A storm in her head begins to arise
    Thunder roaring high with cries
    The clouds in her heart continuously weigh down
    And so on— flood of anxieties makes her drown
    She wondered why her sky was always in a dark atmospheric,
    Will her destroyed soul can be put back in piece like mosaic?

    “T͢h͢e͢ d͢a͢y͢ b͢i͢r͢d͢s͢ f͢r͢e͢e͢d͢"

    Even after letting go the last bird
    There's something in this empty caged occurred
    The memories of fearfully trill remain
    The leaping and trying to fly yet bar constrain

    Thinking the memories left inside
    Make the thoughts in my head collide
    In this self-caged that makes my heart bleed
    I become a bird waiting when will I become freed


  • the_speccy_outsider 45w

    Amidst placating clouds of caelum
    With Piquant foreclosure of reveries
    One seeks for a palpable landscape
    About Mosaics of mitigating beings
    Who wander imperviously
    As if a servitude is preached beseechingly
    While pristine buds roar out of prolixity
    For the blooming is impeded perversely
    As the constructor of this world
    Disguises as a Poet
    And through the quill
    Speaks about the empty cage
    The heart holds dearly
    That could be filled with
    Inherent incumbent emotions
    And allegories about Life


    #imagery #cage #roarc #mosaicc

    Edit: @writersnetwork Thank you so very much for the kind repost! ��


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  • wilmaneels1 45w

    It's colorful, isn't it?
    It started off so dull
    Yet look at it now

    You added a little bit of everyone who influenced you on your journey
    Whether it was good or bad
    The mosaic speaks for you
    How you developed even when things got tough
    That edges that looked like it wouldn't fit now makes perfect sense when you step back and take it all in

    You can be proud of who you are
    Different shades looks beautiful on you
    You are a work of art

  • paradoxicalpenman 45w

    ������������ ����������- �� ������������ �������� ���� ������������ ����������������

    Gender has become fluid,
    Yet sexes pretend to be rigid,
    Homophobia and racism can be uttered in the same breath now,
    Progress we have definitely made but still a mile to get over our prejudice,

    Boomers intolerant,
    Gen Z too sensitive,
    Millennials vacillating,
    Everybody facing economic crisis,
    Further accentuated by the pandemic,

    Capitalism facing backlash,
    Socialism getting fanbase,
    Truth has a spectrum now,
    Fact has facets,

    Ideology is the religion of this century,
    Believe I will blindly my political masters,
    Their words sacrosanct,
    Everything else sacrilege,

    Democracy deteriorating,
    Divisions deeper than ever,
    Not talking in exaggeration,
    Denying climate change,
    An invitation to our extinction,

    Physical prowess had already become useless, Gradually human mind is also becoming obsolete,
    The future awaits only for those who are either artists or scientists,
    Coz memory is no longer a benchmark for intelligence,
    4th industrial revolution has started making irrelevant whole academics,

    Brute things can be done by robots,
    AI busy modifying our behaviour,
    Cattles we are for the corporations,
    Most are sheep, few shepherds,

    The only thing which is completely yours,
    And would be in the future,
    Brace yourselves children,
    Start working on your imagination....

    Modern world is a mosaic of broken humanity,
    Unable to keep up with its own set standards,
    A literal manifestation of hypocrisy,
    Silver lining is fading into obscurity,
    Coz currently all prospects seem gloomy..


    #writersnetwork #miraquill #writersbay #mosaicc #imagery #wod

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    Weaving words to form a tapestry,
    I think I got carried away,
    And started laying tiles of verbosity,
    Instead of introspecting,
    I leave the judgement to my readers,
    I gave you a mosaic instead of drapery,
    What do you think?
    Should I have gone with brevity..

  • crogers180 45w

    Do You Not Know?

    There are blinders that squeeze so tightly,
    Around eyes that expect only ugliness.
    Black and white fading photos with mottled
    Ink blots in between strokes.
    But, life is so much more than events.
    You are more than what you've done, and
    What's been done to you. More than where
    You've been and where you're going.
    Do you not know there's a grand banner of strength
    Above the scribbled note of weakness that you see?
    Memories of an unfair share that have created
    An ability to feel empathy, and compassion for
    The hurting, those without help, and hope...
    Maybe you don't see it - the look on your face
    That speaks volumes of a will to survive.
    Fractured pieces of a broken spirit that have
    Created such a splendid mosaic frame
    On which to display the wonder that you are!
    Maybe you don't yet feel the blinders of cynicism
    Slipping from your heavy downcast eyes.


  • bellemoon99 45w

    The mosaic

    I'm a fiction of someone's imagination. The stranger in the corner of your eye. Just an extra in others' lives.

    My existence is a mosaic of rain, smiles, hugs, and broken hearts. I was shattered and built again. I'm only but a collage of dreams and memories.

    Each word, each creation, they are all a combination of everyone who has interacted with me. A book I read, a voice on the radio, maybe someone who walked by...I'm not myself. I'm all of you.

    A montage. A collage. A mosaic.

    Just a mosaic.

  • sproutedseeds 45w


    Childhood memories
    caged in my heart
    like the broken pieces of mosaics
    which when joint together gives a
    colourful look inspite of its shapeless
    cuts and curves curtained with laces
    of happiness and designed with

  • pallavi4 45w


    It started out looking like a plain
    Standard wall in white
    You were her painter of choice
    Bearing beams of iridescent light

    You assured her that her picture
    Would adorn the walls forever
    You would create a masterpiece
    Lovingly working together

    You wet the the wall with plaster,
    Grainy sand and marble dust
    And began to trace in quick strokes
    As a fresco artist must

    You traced an outline of her
    Lifelike and life sized
    She sat watching with rose coloured spectacles
    Feeling like a possession prized

    When it came down to painting her
    On the wet wall readied to paint
    You chose to embed her like a mosaic
    While she sat light headed, feeling faint

    She in a trance like state
    Lost limb by limb to the wall
    While trusting you to better her
    She simply sat almost enthralled

    A mosaic mural you made of her
    Cutting and plastering piece by piece
    Bit by bit she lost herself, never from it
    Any hope of being released

    And after the tedious task was done
    You varnished your fresco proudly
    In an attempt to supposedly elevate her
    Her essence you removed almost devoutly

    Stuck to wall disjointed
    Your grand masterpiece called
    Giving up her identity forever
    She came to be a fancy mural wall


    7th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- Depth finder by Sonia King

    #mosaicc #mosaic #fresco #art #metaphorical_poems #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • bonitasarahbabu 45w

    Within the house,
    There are many mosaic pieces.
    She was told that she is a mosaic,
    Created from broken pieces.
    The mosaic in the home,
    Those all represent stages of her life.
    Broken pieces were fused together,
    Fused to create the woman she is.
    Broken pieces, painstakingly fused together,
    With bleeding heart and bleeding fingers.
    She is a mosaic,
    And she takes pride in being a mosaic.

  • joybirdpoetry 45w

    #mosaicc #writersnetwork #writersbay #miraquill Reposting an old one that fits today's challenge of Mosaic.

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    Mosaic heart

    When she dropped
    her heart
    to the floor
    it shattered into
    a million pieces
    that she swept up
    with her millet broom
    in the hope that
    one day she might
    glue the pieces
    back together.

    A mosiac of heartbreak.

    She would discover
    to be missing
    one tiny piece

    a sliver that lodged
    between the cracks
    of the old floorboards
    where the spiders
    scuttled about
    and the dust motes
    lazily rested

    a place where the sun
    that gleamed through
    the faded curtains
    did not quite reach
    and where the miniscule
    piece of her heart

    the fragment that held
    the most hurt

    would one day
    with any luck
    be rediscovered
    and fitted back into place
    with the other pieces
    of her broken heart

    and start beating again.


  • kanungoswati 45w


    Love became pieces of mosaic
    When thrown at the feet of lover
    Scattering everywhere.

  • penelope_ 45w


    Despite the fact that
    Women are a mosaic of emotions
    Of all stories you see, you know, you read
    Know that,
    You cannot straighten her
    Neither can you bend her beyond a certain point
    The day you do either of the above
    You will find her broken
    You know it
    For Hawwa was born out
    Of Adam's rib.

  • ablaze_writer 45w

    We all are nothing but mosaics of
    regrets engulfed in memories,
    photocopied by others as mysteries,
    Walking around this floating planet
    Finding a link to another history.

  • kosachaya 45w


  • bohemian_ballerina 45w

    The dense cavity looked too scooped
    Of all the red coloured love
    And white coloured pain.
    Like a ferocious hunter, I dug deep
    Into the empty cage for some treasures,
    But alas! Neither could I find a petal
    Of soft eyes
    Nor could I see the mosaic painting of tears.

    After all, the brain was dead
    And so were her emotions.


  • bubbly_bluebells 45w

    Even after watching
    defeated chains mosaic
    I still fall in an empty vaccum
    Which reminds me about broken cradle
    Here is something left,like synopsis
    Redrags me in the same black hole
    To let me doubt and think as a loser
    Am i really free or yet lost?!

  • zeba_gulsum 45w

    Mosaic of broken hearts
    In our enthralling world
    Is like the rainbow of flaws
    Along with the peaceful rain shower
    And the lulling breeze.

  • kri_k_sni 53w

    #mirakee #mosaicc #poem #kri_k_sni
    #wod #pod @mirakeeassistant
    @mirakee @writersnetwork

    I am a collection of pieces from
    every single person
    I have ever cared about,
    even for a moment. 
    I double tie my shoelaces
    because my childhood friend
    taught me how.

    I double tap my glass on the
    table before taking a drink
    because one of my friends did that

    I know a crazy amount of knowledge
    about a movie series
    I've never seen because the
    first person i thought
    I fell in love with would talk
    about them all the time.

    I turn my soda can tab to the
    right because an old friend told
    me it was bad luck if i didnt.

    I throw salt over my shoulder
    when i spill it because a friend
    of a family friend would

    i am a mosaic, a collage,
    a splattering a paint from all the people
    I have ever known.
    sometimes i feel uneasy when
    I think i might never have a
    unique characteristic,

    some days i feel broken
    into a million pieces,
    like nothing will ever
    be truly my own.

    But how do you apologize
    for finding the
    beauty in those around you.
    how do you say sorry for existing
    along side other mosiacs and
    creations of art based on someone else.

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    Poems are mosaics made of broken pieces
    of a heart held together so ;

    My heart is a mosaic of my artwork
    all that i keep suppressed and in bits-and-pieces
    my poems, they talk to main words,
    feelings, abstract and coherent ways

    In mere thumping and aching, that keeps me up nights at a stretch my poems, they console me, validate me on days i feel like drowning in cherry wine and smoke of my cigratte

    They tell me its okay to not be okay, and its okay to feel the whole burden of existence on your fragile shoulders