#portrait

1215 posts
  • divshetty04 1w

    Weird People In My Life

    The winter as usual with cool breeze,
    I ask my mother to bask in the sun
    The shy nature of her alike me
    Thinks if she sits basking at this age
    She would be stared by many,
    The guy in my neighborhood
    Who looks & smells good
    With his manly voice, behaves egoistic
    Moves as if any model
    Tries to be friendly with me
    But not of my kind
    That's why I ignore him always,
    My cousin who always annoys me
    Is behaving nicely since long
    I guess, he wants something from me,
    May be he wants to date my friend
    He tries talking about her everytime
    But my friend has already said
    She doesn't like my stupid cousin,
    I sit lone writing poetry
    Ignoring my sister's whatsapp calls
    Because sometimes I really hate her,
    When leaving home for shopping
    Father asks me to bring newspaper to read
    He reads half & then settles to watch news,
    The people I have are all weird
    May be sometimes I too sound the same.
    ©divshetty04

  • nocturnal_enigma 1w

    * 18.1.2022; 6.19 A.M (Malaysia)

    #portrait #wod @miraquill

    * For my biological parents:
    Dad @ Bapak & Mom @ Mama

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    -old ~

    They does NOT look too old.
    Their anger voices sound cold.
    Smell good. Make me wanna hold &
    hug them. They move so bold &
    behave wise. I'm the one they mold.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

  • _astitva_ 1w

    Some portraits paint paradise in existential canvas ❤️

    #wod #portrait @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    A panacean portrait

    In a tipsy twilight hovering on chirps of canaries
    caramelized with glacial gust of Himachal, an aroma of rogue rhododendrons whispered hypnotic hymns in ears of mine, when my anaesthetised arm picked up the brush of blueberry, dipping in dote and painted an angel's countenance.

    Blackness of nippy nights spilt with maroon orchids
    streaking in symphony of Satlej's burble as my fingers roll down over the wooden winter to entangle her elflocks
    resting on cherryblossom cheeks as if milky clouds were embracing a drop of penta's potion.

    Autumn's charcoaled dusks sketching two crescent lunas
    over the deep black lakes, veneered with silvery lotuses engaging abandonment of fall to flourish again, in the canopy of queens of night tulips incarnate secreting existence of cosmos.

    Auroral dew of December condensed in magnolia, when dances with first ray of sunshine, its reflection in sky versed her sculpted nose over the garth of lavenders in shape of Shiva's Pinaka over snowy cliff of Kailash.

    Halcyon horizon full of hope when nibbles the saffron sun in spreading duvet of stars. Galaxy gets spellbound in her daffodils like dimples mingling at the cloud, like compassionate chin where peace respire in resonance of nature's beat.

    Earth's core complementing the caparisons of cosmos in her ears, adorned with venus earrings swaying with her chuckles like syllables striving to symphonize with strings of spring's cellos to be overt as panacean poetry.

    ©_astitva_

  • aarzu_words 1w

    Diego Dear

    Often in the evening, just after lunch, the sound of a motorcycle horn could be heard
    I hurried to my room for collecting books
    Because he used to come to my room very fast with his blonde silky hair, loud laughters and pink cheeks
    After that he used to make colorful pictures with his innocent hands for a long time
    That Diego Dear was a small bunch of joy for all of us..
    ©aarzu_words

  • hanshu 1w

    Portrait( me)

    A girl who is willing to live her dreams,
    You only see a real me when you are close to me..,
    A girl who lives in her imaginations and simply watches the sky every eve and become amazed..,
    She loves to see birds and keep her dreams flying..,

    Her life starts from a sweet story,
    Added with new stories happen to turn this story..,
    But when reality hits her dreams become faded..,
    But she loves to live in her dreams and continue to live on..,

    I am awkward, clumsy, weird, kind, imaginative,
    But this is me,
    Take it..,
    Or leave it.
    ©hanshu

  • soundsofsaddness41 1w

    A Mother's Love

    There were long hours of corrections that added up to nothing more traumatic than learning the right way to do things. There was nothing education couldn't change about you or your situation. You started in Price Hill. A rough place that didn't sacrifice much but the people around you. I know in your heart babies didn't come from storks but from falling stars in the sky. You wished on a star for not just me but all of us; my sisters. You told us so many times.
    I learned about making a blanket into a burrito to stay warm by tucking the edges of the blanket all around you. Burritos are warm like a toaster oven. I never had to communicate with people I didn't want to cause you taught me how to roll my window up. You even used the hand gestures on me and those around you. Your feelings showed openly, honestly, and expressively. Privacy was just a matter of furniture rearrangement. Communication was your strength and your skill both. From you I learned about what was fair not just for me but for all of us. You treated us as equals always. If you bought for one you bought for all. If you took from one of us you took from us all. I never understood it when I was young. There was a lot of exasperated sighs of frustration but I do now.
    You taught me how to love regardless of your means or circumstance. Openly, honestly, and fairly I will never forget that. Nor forget you. You were beautiful and not just on the outside. Your outside beauty was hard to miss though.
    ©soundsofsaddness41

  • bellemoon99 1w

    You are

    Your freckled face is the snow that marvels us, and yet your smile is as warm as the flames of a fireplace.

    Long arms, long legs, and loud laughter.

    A gentle citric fragance lingers in the air after you have embraced me. I smile as your scent clings to me as much as I cling to it.

    Messy curls, two deep pools of coffee and dreams. My walking blessing. My lover. My home.
    ©bellemoon99

  • sonu99 1w

    #portrait,#march,#wod,#poetry,@miraquill,@writersnetwork
    Those days of the month of March
    The windy month of transition period
    The arrival of the spring
    With the departure of the wintery days
    Bursting of blossoms everywhere
    New season, new beginnings.

    That time when I was in school
    The memories swing in my mind
    The exam month, March
    Enters with a blast of exam pressure as well as bringing festival of colours
    Mixed feelings of joy, nervousness and excitement
    Along with enjoying the pleasant weather.

    The sweet aromas of the blooms,
    The musky and fruity smell of the posy
    Uplifting to the world of tranquility
    After the exams returning home
    And getting lost in story books
    Gives the feeling of heavenly eternal bliss.
    ©sonu99
    16/01/2022

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    Portrait Poetry
    MARCH


    ©sonu99
    16/01/2022

  • puchka 1w

    Meet her before dawn
    Meet her in the noon
    Meet her late night
    Or any other time
    She's a picture of delight
    Not a hair out of place
    Not a trace of tiredness
    On her beautiful face
    Even after spending
    Hours in the kitchen
    Stirring pots and pans
    Covered in sweat
    Carrying around her
    A sweet fragrance
    Of jasmine flower buds
    dipped in honey
    Of Ponds snowcream,
    Of Jabakusum 'tel'
    Her face aglow
    with red vermillion line
    drawn in hair parting
    like a perfect pencil line

    "Mommy smells"
    Assails the senses,
    Awakens memories
    of her daily presence
    Emulating her ways
    Tried but failed to attain
    That immaculateness
    That purity of soul
    That mind clear as crystal
    That calm composure
    Always exuded
    ©puchka

  • ri_iaa 1w

    Lovegreed

    Lovegreed’s an innocent,
    starving young child
    sobbing and bloated,
    blown full of flies
    taken as selfish,
    inherently wild
    nourished by avarice,
    wanton and lies.

    ri_iaa

  • akkshu 1w

    Mom

    There's no Sunday to her
    A strict time keeper
    Her walk is like running
    She's always caring
    No less than a bestie
    I'm more than lucky
    ©akkshu

  • msushil 1w

    My duplicate in my home
    Emulates me,
    But my pen
    knows my touch
    And
    Refuses to indie
    For him.
    Breathless, he flees
    When I return,
    And the pen embraces
    The paper
    To offer
    A beautiful failure
    That he fails to grab.
    ©msushil

  • bubbly_bluebells 1w

    #portrait

    Looking my eyes in the mirror
    Found yet lost somewhere
    in the dark slope,staring where
    light ain't reachable!Or
    Closed in plastic show of blinks?
    Arn't straight to observe the show!

    I screamed loud from
    mine grave,screamed more
    In shivers,kept on screaming
    To burst my heart out
    Into x pieces it could break!

    I saw millions of echoes coming back
    Scintilla and magestic fireflies of life!
    ©bubbly_bluebells

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    ©bubbly_bluebells

  • joan53 1w

    Tall, strong, no nonsense
    Tough as nails
    Truth til it hurts
    Truth without bandaids
    The middle software bound
    Tenacious, protector of right
    Travels on the ethereal plain
    Teasingly in memory lane

    ©joan53

  • amsterdam 1w

    The night is a stranger
    With sad eyes,
    A rush of bleak memories
    Trickle on the brittle margins
    Of a stone-cold spine
    Like scattered lyrics
    Of songs strumming sins and pain,

    The night is a stranger,
    A pale ghost
    Of a nameless girl
    With a smile borrowed
    From a songbird,
    Have you seen the sun
    Tiptoe on the edge of euphoria
    Before bad luck
    Struck more than twice?
    Is it too late
    To dry tears
    And cast fears
    To the moonstone skies?

    And when the song
    Softly playing in my heart ends,
    And the pale ghosts
    Dwindle with the fading notes
    In a spiral
    Of gaunt beginnings
    and cinematic endings
    seasoned
    with paradoxes and insecurities,

    I want to know
    If by then
    You'll still remember
    How to say my name.

    ������������������
    01.16.22
    rusty #portrait

    hi @murryben I'll tell you what happened to me someday. Thank you for everything. ILY.��
    This is just a quick hello from the virtual grave. :))
    Belated Merry Christmas and HNY everyone! ����

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    .

  • prose_nexus 1w

    The sky is God's canvas
    Every stroke of wispy clouds tells a story.
    It tells how the great came from nothing
    And how the greatest shall come back to nothingness.

    On the first section of the mural is painted the bright golden child.
    When the child crawls, it is happy, sweet and mild.
    The nature below it is its friend so it plays with the leaves of trees and the smooth complexion of men.

    It matures quickly to the middle of the canvas,
    It is neither happy nor sad, it knows life.
    It knows it now so it grows quicker,
    It knows it emanated from nothing, so it is indifferent.
    It doesn't chase its childish inclinations any longer.

    The golden child had become a quivering old thing that hides itself within the pinkish-purple background.
    It wants to escape repetition but is an eternal slave to it.

    Once again, the sky is a mural,
    God's canvas.
    It tells stories of indulgence and the consequences of it.
    Nothing is hidden from depiction within this frame.

    #patheticfallacy #writersnetwork #pod #portrait #wod #tenderc #love #life
    @miraquill

    IG: @a_word4u

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    What the sky is.

    ||Damon Aura||

  • muskaanbhatttt 1w

    All about him��❤


    P:s Yayy, I got 70+ likes, 14 comments and 23 reposts in just a day, and without using this ID and without liking and reposting from long period of many hours, and I literally comment 2% on others posts, not just 30+ likes, without showing my personal real stuff to unknown strangers as dps, tags, writing material meaningful,realistic,heavy hona chahiye then you will get everything without no time,sirf topics and tags given prompt se milne kai elawa writing bhi milni chahiye I guess��������


    #pod #wod #portrait
    @miraquill @writersnetwork

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    PORTRAIT (HE)

    His eyes seems like sparkling pearls
    His hair so straight with no curls

    His alluring deep brown eyes when he stares me
    Made me go insane o thee

    His long black lashes when he blinks
    Captures my heart with invisible links

    His blackish brown hair, always styled some different way
    When everytime he spruces it, and makes my eyes not to look away

    His beard is all a less haired French style
    Which suits him and makes his looks versatile

    His red lips glows whenever he smiles
    Can hear his soothing voice even from miles

    His height is flawless from every angle
    Which makes me observe him without any wrangle

    He smells like my favourite red roses
    His scent makes me forget other fragrances

    His walks are simple yet full of swaggy attitude
    Which makes me believe you have a strong aptitude

    Your smiles are like colourful blossom
    And your laughter seems like a whole blooming flower kingdom

    Your presence makes me forget the whole world
    While your talks fill my stomach with gold

    His face is a mix of innocent and angry child
    And his moods are all mild

    ©muskaanbhatt

  • imshadesofgrey 1w

    2022Jan16
    ~ And I'll love you like how the moon loves the Earth, distant but still there and glows brightly for you.
    Please know that on the other side of this planet, someone loves you more and more. ~

    Post inspired from ILYM by John K, Rosie
    -Wrote this cause the moon reminded me of you while I know you'll never read this, I'm happy enough to reminisce.
    #portrait #wod
    PS: I'm not sure if this applies to the prompt but I described someone who I always come across in my mind �� does that count? ��

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    The man she kept. . .

    ~My neighbor constantly thinks about him
    I often meet him in my dreams~

    He has this beautiful dark-toned skin
    He stands firmly and oh-so-manly
    A physique I would love to hug all night and day
    The scars on his skin are like tattoos of past
    His hair was curly and silky
    Got a beard he loves combing through his hands while he thinks
    His eyes were chestnut brown
    And when I stare at them, I see autumn leaves
    And while they seem cold and distant
    They're warm and magnificent, they enchant me
    Drown me to all kinds of oceans from his soul
    He got a smile that makes me smile too
    I love how his eyes look brighter when he laughs
    Lips so soft and full
    With a voice that is familiar to me
    It calms the storms inside me
    A face that makes him look intimidating
    But a mind so open that I enjoy exploring
    He may deny a lot in front of me
    But I know he has been through a lot
    by how his eyes look when we talk about life
    The moment I met him
    I knew he is a force to reckon with
    Eventually, I let him in and stayed for whenever he likes
    .
    He left . . .
    .
    You can tell who he is to me,
    the man I love more than the sunsets on the horizon
    the man I love more than the autumn seasons
    the man I love more than his flaws
    more than the sadness in his eyes
    more than the moon is around the Earth
    I love him more every day.
    .
    ~My neighbor constantly thinks about him
    I often meet him in my dreams
    Cause a part of him stayed with me, maybe forever.~

    Sincerely,
    Her heart.

    ©imshadesofgrey

  • rahmahdi 1w

    We

    Still remember those days
    The day we met And when fate bring us as brother in all but blood
    The unsolvable mysteries of both of you and me
    Duo eccentric and creative to loner and weirdo me
    Duo passionate and lazy me
    Duo skinny and charming with fat grumpy me
    Duo friendly to expressionless me
    People may said that place is my second home
    But i know that a place where you are is my second home
    ©rahmahdi

  • muskaanbhatttt 1w

    Actually from past years, I quit listening too much music of any kind, just because it has a lot of bad impacts on human soul and body, spiritual, Physical, mental ,and religiously.

    So, I listen not very much, I avoid basically all hindi stuff, i am mostly into punjabi, Russian, Arabic and Turkish music.
    Which is as same as me, touching and realistic,but one hindi song is my evergreen favourite, and that will always be, that's (TUM HI HO) Aashiqui 2.

    So I wrote feelings related to that song.

    #pod #wod #portrait #favourite #song
    @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    SONG (TUM HI HO)

    You are everything,which I need
    From peace to pain, you are a positive deed
    You are the reason of my living,
    And for you I can even bleed


    You gave a hope of living to an alive dead soul
    With your love, you filled my heart which had a deep hole
    Picked me up from dark , enlighted my life with great blessings
    Completed a half soul by putting your name with mine,and showed me my goal

    Cared for my happiness, like a pearl in its shell
    Whenever I fell from failure heights, everytime you asked me am I well
    You gave me solace like no other
    Held my hands and took me to your place where you kept me like a precious jwell

    ©muskaanbhatt