20 posts
  • _mathematics 25w

    Heavy rain pouring outside the apartment, which I noticed later after a few minutes gap. Have you experienced the same, I hope you had?

    Many say they hate rainy days, like why? doesn't that seems rubbish just cause it gets roads crammed and blocked then same do the guilt or wound or injuries giving a lot of suffering and discomfort.

    It's a tragic time for all of you ( including me), remember you are the richest within your orbit. Your galaxy is your mind, not the right part or left rather the whole little brain embedded from birth to assist and assemble the tragic and roar, together forming numerals of significant meanings in every room of emotions one dealing with at a time.

    // roar, an upthrust
    burdened with
    of the audience
    hunting for the
    roses without thorns//

    Not a lullaby, I am trying to descant neither a love letter but something to deal with before it gets too late.
    suicidal thoughts stabbing up the subtle heart along with
    endless sleepless nights stalking the pumping heart and narrating the conclusive qualms of past nights

    "And how odd it is to be haunted by someone who's still alive?"

    #tragicc #woundsc #roarc #newwayc #lineinspc

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    बावरा मन

    यह ठंडी पवन
    लहरें मध्दम
    उलझती शाम
    ठहरे क़दम
    एक तरफा मोहब्बत
    या बिकता वहम।

  • rekhuu 25w

    #start #wod
    Thank you for the like WN ��

    #newwayc #woundsc #nobodyc

    #Temp maybe
    Sorry for the abrupt ending �� May add some more lines ��

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    One step at a time

    Mornings bring endless battlefields and a whole set of new wars to wage. With dreams as high as the cloudy gossamer and an endless bucket list of wishes, I start the day with fierce determination to crush all my opponents. Whilst people achieve even the feat of going to space, my bucket list still remains full. I wonder where I lag? Why is saccharine success out of my reach? Death must be peaceful than this everyday struggle, atleast there wouldn't be the nagging fear of failure. The myriad war wounds that I wear are proof that I haven't given up. But doesn't that indicate that I'm still a nobody and have a long way to go, before I become a somebody.


  • camphor 26w

    I saw those birds across the hills as I sat in a train from Moscow to Siberia, they flew along the dusty windows as the train passed through a tawny grassland stretched over the golden horizons.
    Their light wings swayed like kites in the beams of an evening sun. A senior man with a beard like cotton candies on the other side of the seat watched them smiling like a toddler. His hat was stitched with a red cloth and it had a picture of two rabbits sleeping in a bush.
    The amber pages of a novel fluttered in his lap through the slithering wind in the cabin. His jacket had the colours of a rainbow, and the trousers had countless pockets. The leather suitcase was the heaviest I've seen, as I kept wondering what all things it contains, he laughed and told me;
    'see, how marvelous are those birds, they fly untroubled by the past, relishing each others company, carrying nothing but the sunshine on wings'.
    For a moment, He seemed like a bird among the flock, flying cheerfully towards the silver oaks of the setting sun.

    - Camphor

    @miraquill @writersnetwork #wod #jingle #newwayc

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    When you take my sun away,
    spare me a sunset to watch.


  • antarraal 26w

    Set A: Awaiting
    Set B: How many poems have you written?

    #question #newwayc #wod

    They say pen is mightier than sword,
    so, it means pen also kills, but
    does it kills better or
    kills for the better?
    How many poems have you written?
    when someone asks me this,
    I dont give a number
    but manage a smile,
    for my pen knows
    how to kill with fiery questions
    and how to heal with compassion,
    how to ink tales of passion
    and how to deal with screaming reasons,
    how to stand in every season
    and how to rise for every indignation.
    But still my pen is awaiting
    for that one new way
    when it will become the perfect weapon
    to wipe off tears of starvation,
    the biting stabs of wrong accusations,
    the black pain of depression,
    that day perhaps
    I will pen my swan song.

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    How many poems have you written?
    when someone asks me this,
    I dont give a number
    but manage a smile...


  • unsung_seagull 26w

    Mountains are
    The love letters,
    Written by the ocean
    To the sky.

    Rain is a reply.

    And that's how
    The highs and
    And depths meet...

    To create
    Something infinite.

    Something infinite..
    Like life.


  • miss_silentlyweird 26w

    Hands down, it's messy introduction but sure it is me for real
    (life is a mess) ��

    #separation #introduction
    #newwayc #miraquill #wod
    @miraquill @writersbay

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    One: I am potato trying hard to be french fries—mediocre in everything I do.

    Two: The separation of my feelings and thoughts are onerous: I don't go insane, I'm insane and weird —just going sane every day.

    Three: I'm in series of mistakes, film of regrets and literary imperfections.
    Four: Lost and wandering a route of oblivion hoping to find metanoia.

    Five: A clandestine full of nemesism with beliefs and perspectives that can be glimpse in noctiphany.

    Six: My soul is fireworks sometimes its spark and glow yet mostly its just become ashes and smoke.

    Seven: Sometimes I'm a sinner, lover, believer, somebody, nobody or anybody.

    Eight: For me life and death are interchangeable loops of surviving, living and suffering.

    Nine: Honestly, I just live whimsically. Well in fact you don't know me neither do I.

    Ten: Lastly, I'm not good in my words and writing but I'm almost certain what I compose is the kind of person I am likewise I'm certain that occasionally it's not who I am.


  • the_ambivert_uzma 26w

    Death hugs the soul
    like an old friend
    Taking it away
    to heavenly abodes
    Bestowing a new life
    without any tinge of grief

  • pallavi4 26w


    One day, not very far in the future
    We will greet each other
    Like old friends meeting after a long spell
    And then we’ll proceed to remain together forever
    Your comforting arms I long to be in
    Away from the maddening crowd
    I understand you even when you silently
    Around me increasingly create a raven shroud
    You are the blinding darkness that people
    Often fear the most in their lives
    For me you are the solace that one receives
    After a lifetime of pain and strife
    In you I hope to lose myself
    Let go of all my doubts and fears
    You are the cloak of the night devoid of stars
    In which soon I hope to one day disappear


    14th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Rainy Nights”

    #newwayc #death #writersbay @writersbay #perspective #musings #thoughts @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • bonitasarahbabu 26w

    The sun has gone to bed,
    It has become dark.
    The day is done,
    And the poor sun wishes he had someone to read him a bedtime story.
    For afar, he hears the moon,
    She is singing to him.
    This makes hin overjoyed,
    And he settles in for the night.
    The sun has set,
    And it is now time for all to get some sleep.

  • bubbly_bluebells 26w

    A nomad walks alone, whole day on the elysian fields.He is quite busy in chasing flock and performs Shepherds duty to shear all the wooly hairs from the white sheeps.
    Heaps are collected like harvested cereal straws on the golden wheat lands.Later the Liliputians come to fetch pastel patches,fill their sacks and screensaver of the day obscure into oblivion.

    Wild nights!--dazzle-- wild nights!--on

    @heartsease�� this is inspired from your style of writing��


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    Blue sky and wool heaps paints the best kind of abstract art in my wanderlusting eyes.

  • haruisuzu 26w

    She once wanted to be drenched in showers of admiration
    Skedaddling day in, day out she made it
    But with every dew of acclaimation she grew colder
    Until the moonglade of tenderness reflected through her frozen heart
    Now, the dewdrops, she treasures em
    As she yearns to soar atop the showers
    From where she can bestow warmth to every dewdrop
    Being quintessential she doesnt care for and capitulating she doesnt know about
    She glides & hovers high and low at times but I know she will make it
    Oh why you ask? ...because she is Me!

  • the_ambivert_uzma 26w

    A nemophilist
    lost due to werifesteria
    hearing voices resonating
    between trees
    A solivagant
    always on the wanderlust
    listening to the echoes
    sliding down alone
    along a precipice
    A ceraunophile
    with yearning eyes
    searching for a spark
    in the cruel sky, sitting
    amidst dunes
    A hermit
    A vagabond soul
    A selcouth self
    inundated with hiraeth
    Obsessed with the sky
    a little too much
    for its constellations
    to find a home in there
    The sky reciprocates the awe
    as the twilight accompanies her
    and the stardust fills her eyes
    Making her seem as
    if she doesn't belong here
    Striving to link herself
    little by little to each part here
    Yet her soul keeps on
    whirling around
    with a pure viridity
    to find an anchor
    in this fathomless universe
    #pod #wod #introduction #ceesreposts #newwayc #writersnetwork #miraquill #writerstolli #cool_buddy

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    She strives for a link here
    connecting herself
    a little to every part
    Yet her soul whirls around
    with a pure viridity
    to find an anchor
    in this fathomless universe

  • bohemian_ballerina 26w

    Hi There!

    More than eye candy
    I'm a dynamic young maze
    Ready to engage

    I dance in the rains
    But also loathe monsoons much
    Like a quibbling gal

    Wear me like dark kohl
    I'll soothe you with my words, love
    Like blanket in snow


  • kri_k_sni 26w

    Thoughts about death and stuff like this.

    Sneak some snacks
    from the kitchen.
    Came back to bed just
    to eat them checking the
    phone pretending it's ok.

    Night so long,
    summer is near
    though it's spring.
    What if death's the beginning,
    dying will wake me up?

    I'll rise?
    Maybe rise underneath.
    Time after time this killing me more.

    Run into dark,
    smoke of cigarettes in the lungs,
    a calling in the morning,
    a message at 4 pm.
    What should I do,
    every poured drop knows
    it'll lands on the ground.
    Like a cancer,
    it's draining me to death,
    time doesn't have compassion.
    What's the plot.

    "It worth to waiting the sun?"

  • writersbay 26w

    Good Morning, fellas!

    Today write about something in a new way, with a different perspective.

    There could be so many perspectives for one thing. To exemplify let's take death, or life. Some people write about it as if it's beautiful, some as if it's tragic, some as if it's nothing.

    Tag and share with #newwayc

    Happy writing! ��

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    It’s good as an artist to always remember
    to see things in a new, weird way.

    ~ Tim Burton

  • durgaprasad_vichu 27w

    #separation #pod #wod #newwayc
    I know I am late for this but kindly have a read.
    I hope you won't get disappointed at the end.����
    @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Fall for me

    "Yes we got separated, so what?"

    How could you say like that? I was with you the whole time until they separated us. I loved you more than others. I danced with you even at the worst times. After all the moments we had, now you hate me because of the distance we have. Is this the true love you mentioned when I stood by you. I was completely ready to conceive your child, our child. You don't know how much it hurts to be me. All my dreams shattered when I got separated from you. I know you are at heights but I can't reach you. If your love is true you will fall for me before I fade away, but instead you are saying "so what" and that really hurts me my love.

    "What shall I do then? I know you were an angel. But you have fallen now, so I should move on. I know that I will also fall one day, but till then I should enjoy more time with others. I want to dance more. I need to make love with beautiful females before I die. I really want to..... Oh no! Why is she coming to this direction today? God please don't let her have me. I wish to live more. At least save me until a bee comes, this is not fair."

    Look who is talking about fair now. You deserve this. Yes, pluck him from his selfishly fixed lazy foot. If I don't get him no one should, at least I can die peacefully. Goodbye, my love!

    If there is an another life with him I wish to be a bisexual flower, so he will be with me from my birth itself.
    We will be together inside the bud.....
    we will be together while we bloom.....
    we will be together when the bees come.....
    we will dance together in heavy rains and hold petals in forceful winds.....
    we will be together if they pluck us and we will be together until we fall.
    Thus we will not get separated ever again.....


  • sarcasticbong 27w

    (Memento Mori) A Latin phrase meaning 'remember you will die.'
    (Ko) a blow that renders the opponent unconscious.
    (REM) Rapid eye moment.

    #bongsnewphase #bongspersonalities #celestialvibeseries #newwayc

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    (Celestial VibeNgen #16)

    I and bong came to know
    that you fellow word makers
    don't understand our conversation,
    so we thought maybe we could write some
    readable words for you all.

    Bong, you want to say something?

    "Yeah, Sorry we get too other-worldly while on conversations, let's start
    dib make a dip with the sketchy nib".

    Bong, no puzzling words.

    " Okay Lowkey,
    How much do you know about
    this unidentified entity called Love?"

    Love is an awful thing bong
    It takes away your sense,
    the sense that makes you walk straight,
    talk you into things that will
    eventually end tearing you apart
    breaking you apart into pieces,
    it teaches you to beware of the diluted love
    that will cross you at least once.

    "You say once? if it comes twice"?

    Then you need the philosophy of
    'Memento Mori' that will
    reshape your entire timeline,
    reshuffle it into multiple folds.

    "What does that mean?
    Is that the movie,
    one with the crazy dude like you?"

    No, what are you into nowadays,
    I am not going to explain it,
    You are playing around with me
    trying to learn about others like you,
    resting in a REM cycle inside the
    subconscious self.

    "You so slow, no flow, ko".
    You are a ducking headache.

    Our main narrators are trapped
    in a quarrel loop at the end of time,
    wait until they resolve themselves
    to narrate us our next Celestial Vibe.

    Thank you.

  • chai_encephalon_21 27w


    All written rights reserved.
    11th of July'21

    (FOREWORD: What's that which touches bodies to leave it paralysed?
    What's that which drinks the sap of bodies till it stops breathing?
    What's that we never know when we stumble upon?
    DEATH:the wise say, stands in the doorway, of every live that has ever lived.
    I've seen him come and take away voices. But, I never met him.
    And someday, if I do, I have questions to greet him as we go.
    How does it feel to meet death? Will the dead ever say?)

    AREN'T WE?

    Never have I looked you at the eyes,
    Even when you came to take the wise.
    Voices that once dwelled with me,
    Now dwells in your coelom numb and free.

    They say, kissing you is everyone's destiny,
    For, you set a man unleashed in anonymity.
    //Chasing forevers, passion crashes into you,//
    Eyelids droop down, out of the blue.

    The first time you came, I didn't know your name,
    A soul taken away, nothing remained the same.
    Now I know you, your aim,
    The game, you proclaim.

    You bereave hearts,
    you extract the sap
    leaving the pulp
    to grow Daisies upon.

    Are you a conduit to the afterworld?
    Or a choice, mortals daren't unfurl.
    Or a voice, that sing no lullaby,
    When mothers leave as an alibi.

    Are you the bay, of the ocean called life;
    Or the ocean, souls in fragile vessels thrive?
    Are you an abyss, standing on the edge of a cliff;
    Or a shot-gun that leave ears deaf?

    Do you absorb dreams when bodies die?
    And unleash the soul to let it fly.
    Above courtyards, where they slept stargazing,
    Or to catch the clouds, they were chasing.

    //Why is everyone headed west;
    When life here is at its best?//
    Questions manifold, I've for you,
    Why do you come and leave out of blue?

    Breathing in the morning, I dream of eventide,
    The time, our elements shall collide.
    We'll meet for the first and the last,
    Dissolved in the air, carrying no past.

    The cityscape will smirk, holding its citrus aureole high,
    As we breathe in synchrony, spreading my wings to fly.
    And then, I shall ask you questions five,
    //Why do men come, only to leave,
    And bodies grow,to frost heave? //



    @writersnetwork a read?



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    AREN'T WE?

    Why is everyone headed west;
    When life here is at its best?

    Breathing in the morning, I dream of eventide;

    Why do men come, only to leave,
    And bodies grow,to frost heave?