Miraquill
An ode to a bunch of barron poems
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I create my own poems
Because I can't relate to any.
The heart break I seek,
seems not to exist in any.
So what's the point of seeking,
And why bother searching for a relief?
Afterall you could choose,
To carry a pen across your template.
Why bother when you're able to
Etch the depth of your wounds,
And in them, stream the root of your tears.
let the poems speak to you, let it create a relief.
Let it embrace, and let itself choose,
whether to be crumbled or to be set on fire.
Whether to live or to be kept a secret.
Whether to exist only in books or to be recited,
Or even better be byhearted.
Let it choose its fate like every other,
Or be selfish Poet, like any other.
But would you let the non gifted run desperate,
In lost hopes of finding refuge in your lines.
Won't you help?
Or would you leave them a blank page,
Or write them a bland verse,
Just like the ones they left you with,
The ones that you called a bunch of barron poems.
©rahoof
#rahoof
11 posts-
rahoof 15w
Read More#poetry #love #quotes #poetrycommunity #writersofmiraquill #poem #life #writer #miraquill #lovequotes #poet #quoteoftheday #poetsofmiraquill #quote #poems #art #thoughts #follow #writing #shayari #inspirationalquotes #quotesmiraquill #bhfyp #motivation #loveyourself #like #writersofig #inspiration #bhfyp #creative #odd #wordpictures #imagery #metaphors #wordporn #vangogh #Vincentvangogh #wordpainting #rahoof #rahoofpoetry @writersnetwork @miraquill
7 0
But the magic happens in discreteness,
when you choose to describe who I was to you.
Perhaps then finally, the chambers of your heart might freeze blue.
Cause I might have been pushed off prematurely,
Or might have chosen to fall off by myself.
like a ripened leaf - yellow on the mud
With an eternal melancholy.
Or the time might have carried me with it,
leaving you with an urn of memory.
Or I might have travelled afar up north
In hopes of finding prosperity.
And when the magic happens in discreteness,
I fear I might never know.
So do tell me, when we still have time,
whether your heart is craving or not.
©rahoof7 1
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__anjalijha
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I can't help but to paint you
As a women who lived a thousand lives
An age old being still youthful
Carrying with her a bag full of hearts.
©rahoof11 0
Seems like it
............................
A heart doesn't need much
To be broken or to be exalted.
It's strength lies in its simplicity.
Often being torn apart,
And getting stitched back.
Sadness lies in it's many forms
Often too cruel or at times futile.
Just like the nimble winds,
That collectively create waves in the Pacific,
or like a drop of mercury enough to paint a person's death.
Some words are enough to make the ice break beneath your feet.
Some actions are enough to push you
down to the stairwell of insanity.
But the thing that hurts the most
Is you being too blind to see
the efforts that I make, to put myself together -
To run, to walk, to speak my ways back to you.
Maybe just like me, this is yet another selfish poem that doesn't seem to make any sense.
but I often wish your heart had ears,
Because surely it seems like mine has a tongue Which seems to speak a language that you could never understand.
©rahoof19 1 4
From her eyes
......................
I gazed depths into her eyes,
After agreeing on a staring contest.
Notice how I blinked twice,
Just after we blew the starting whistle.
That’s how weak I get,
Knees weak - heart weak - around her.
And when she noticed me staring further,
Even after my deemed failure.
Her eyes struck back with a gaze,
Perhaps a futile attempt,
to startle a grown man’s heart.
And as always I took it with a smile.
when I gazed upon her eyes further,
instead of the love that I was hoping for
I got to see my own reflection thrown back at me.
And on her eyes there was no love for me.
©rahoof7 0
Read More"having a heart blinded by the shadow of a love that it could never receive, inturn blind to the love one is willing to give."
-rahoof
Being stuck in a love triangle
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#rahoof #rahoofpoems #narrativepoetry #lovetriangle #humancondition #conditionoftheheart #cravingsforapersonnotwillingtolove #narrativepoems #brokenhearted #brokenheart #disappointed #lovestory #tragedy #tragiclovestories #tragiclove #rahoofpoetry @miraquill @writersnetworkSurely my heart sings the melody of mellow poems, after giving out glimpses on thinking how we could have been;
Sometimes my heart crave to give out unending hugs, in-between pauses of your late-night speech.
Often I crave comfort,
To idly recline on your back,
To find my tears washed away after gaining relief from the wounds past had gifted us.
Sometimes I find you comfortable as home,
Even on the times my heart is seeping despair.
And I am not even dazed to say,
I had known this a long time before.
"having a heart blinded by the shadow of a love that it could never receive, inturn blind to the love one is willing to give."
We resume to die every other day.
©rahoof8 0 1
Queen of hearts
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Her wandering soul craved closure,
She was too tired from walking miles.
Once this gypsy queen walked the blazing sun,
From where she got her feet burnt.
Then she walked the crescent moon,
And felt the moon dust-
healing her cracked up wounds.
She used to pluck petals off from her
Flower tiara and offer it to the king of nights.
This gypsy queen had walked miles-
without end on both sides.
But in the end it didn't matter as both her masters gifted her the same heavy-aching heart.
©rahoof12 0
Reverie
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Between the depth of the night's alluring darkness,
and in between the peak of the evening sky,
look out for the meaningless pauses
where you find your mind often zoning out to be.
So lets ease - floating in between - vision blurred on the same ecstasy.
Maybe you'll find out what your life was missing
or find yourself tapped back to your senses from today's - first daydream.
@rahoof10 0 1
Read MoreLet me brew some poems for you ☕����
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#Simplepoems #simplepoetry #shortpoems #shortpoetry #Soulfulpoets #wordpictures
#rahoof #rahoofpoems #rahoofpoetry
#wod #feelgood #feelgoodpoems #naturepoetry #rainpoems #poems #poetry #solitude #peace #eternity
#smellofrain #aesthetic #therapy #therapeuticwords
#alliteration #assonance #metaphors #rahoof #rahoofpoems #rahoofpoetry @miraquill @writersnetworkIn the hearth of my heart
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In the hearth of my heart,
This is how I brew poems.
I take a little longing,
a pinch of hope,
a tablespoon of care,
and half a cup of love.
Then I blow in to the fire of passion.
And I wait for my pots to brew
timeless poems about you.
©rahoof7 0 1
Read Morepetrichor (the scent of rain)
/ˈpɛtrʌɪkɔː/
noun
noun: petrichor
a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.
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#Pastoralpoem #pastoralpoetry #wod
#feelgood #feelgoodpoems #naturepoetry #rainpoems #poems #poetry #solitude #peace #eternity
#smellofrain #aesthetic #therapy #therapeuticwords
#alliteration #assonance #metaphors #rahoof #rahoofpoems #rahoofpoetry @miraquill @writersnetworkPetrichor
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The heavens are very generous today.
Bouldering rocks of heavens
seems to be trembling.
Sending drops like hailing diamonds.
The timepiece of my house is now
Living in denial, refusing to believe,
it's five minutes past ten in the morning.
From the merry view of my breakfast table,
Veggies of mother's garden tilt and quiver alongside the falling rain.
The pea plants seems to continuously
wave and dance to the thud of drops.
Me on the other hand sits with a mug of chai.
Inhaling petrichor, with a pen deliberately trying to draw nature's poetry In to a book,
on a mere piece of paper.
©rahoof23 1 2
Read MoreIrony in nature's poetry
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#Pastoralpoem #pastoralpoetry #wod
#feelgood #feelgoodpoems #naturepoetry #rainpoems #poems #poetry #solitude #peace #eternity
#smellofrain #aesthetic #therapy #therapeuticwords
#alliteration #assonance #metaphors #rahoof #rahoofpoems #rahoofpoetry @miraquill @writersnetworkIrony in nature's poetry
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On the morning sun I bathed
Beneath all its glimmering glory.
The nightingale's tune a rhapsody from nature's Canterbury.
The sparkling stream, the wayward-winds, forest flowers and backyard hills, surrounded as I stood between a hundred Monarch's fluttering wings.
Irony in Natures poetry,
Where it decided to bring men from monkeys, cause these baboons
still couldn't see,
the nature and its prolific beauty.
©rahoof