| A VERSE AND A PEN CHALLENGE | (Part 04: Of laurels and love)
Disclaimer: Don't just scroll down and drop a single congratulations. Your fellow friend needed around an hour to do all this (You can still skip the disclaimer itself ) ________________
*grabs the mic*
Namaste! Welcome to Malpe beach, one of the famous beaches in Udupi. My team of "A verse and a pen challenge" has brought you all to this place (with free flight tickets and hotel accommodations, of course) due to many reasons which I will let you know, hoping that you are all enjoying the place and the vibes associated here. *clichépenname appreciates the setup and takes the seat next to kairos_*
One, we are here on the request of my friends who are a part of the self- help group "Pathetic Plastic". The dumping of polythene bags, and many other plastic items have indeed caused harm to the marine life here, and hence, as a part of our programme, I am proud to let you all know that we will be a part in this campaign and contribute towards making this world a better place for the marine life, as well as for the terrestrial ecosystem. We are also accepting money donations for the campaign, and the entire fund will be utilised for the drive. I hope you would all like to be a part of the initiative. *claps and hurrays from the lovely Miraquillean audience*
Two. We have seen many people in our paradise complimenting about nature, the seashores, the tides, and of love and harmony. So why not experience life on a seashore at least for a moment? *squared and manasaa meanwhile get ready to grab as many seashells as possible*
Three, it was meant to bring you all together, since I have seen the community charm in ourselves vanishing bit by bit. It is just my attempt of gathering my lovely people of a paradise. (Four, because it is my hometown and I'm proud of its beauty )
*everyone are served hot tea with 'golibaje', a signature snack of Mangaluru. (basically like a pakora, but not a pakora lol)
laus_deo: If it is going to be too formal, you'll be tasting the sands and then the sharks, okay?
me: Okay, fine! -- So, without any delay, let us start our Prize Ceremony!!!!!!! *takes a deep breath* ________________ *voices from the audience* sereiin, Amsterdam and inhabited: Krish, we hope that you're starting the challenge with the revelation of the judges. We already have the stones ready in our hands. *wicked smiles*
me: Uhmm, well, I have planned the epiphany for tomorrow. So........
kairos_ , my_cup_of_poetry and zohiii : No! Take the blames away from us. We want to prove these people wrong. Don't hide the truth and laugh there, okay?
jerry_21: You got me thinking all night regarding the same, and now see you, a man awake from a snory sleep, smiling in all cruel ways possible, duhh.
me: la la la la laaaaa, no no no! It's all happening tomorrow!!!! Hold the anxiety *laughs weirdly*
audience: KRISH!!!!!!! ________________ *meanwhile ignoring all the voices* Huhh people, to be honest, all of your submissions were as great as helllllllllllllll. I would have died of stress if I were to judge the prompt. But luckily, I'm alive today, thanks to the judges! The prizes have been decided based on the combined scores. :)
So, the third prize goes to.... @someone_you_know, for participating in this contest with her lovely submission describing the pov of love. Congratulations!!!!! Here we have our docs (XD) kairos_ and clichépenname to award you this medal and my handwritten note. I hope you like it :") Thank you! ♥️
And, the second prize goes to...... @natasha_a for her lovely piece which I am not finding on the platform for some reason *sighs* Maybe it's my eyes which are too lazy *-* To award you the medal and my small prize, we have lovenotes_from_carolyn here. Let us welcome her with lots of applaud! Thank you very much! ♥️ (Has your username changed? *-*)
The time you have been waiting for, is here...
aditii_: Drags are too cringy Krishii, okay? Please don't say that you got the first prize, we've seen the same boring dialogue twice.
*gently wipes tears*
The first prize goes to, @shreyah for her unique piece describing the pov of anxiety. Congratulations mademoiselle. Here we have writersbay team on stage to give away the token of love (as you expected XD). Please accept it. Thank you SO much ♥️ ________________
Naah naah, the prize ceremony is yet pending. We have three contestants who were very close to the winners, and hence I would like to call out their names and give them their medals too. The three participants are: @myrrhc @ak_anjali_daydreamzz @heartsease
I would like to thank you for participating in the prompt and submitting such beautiful crafts which indeed were high on a healthy competition. Collect your virtual book gifts backstage! Thank you so very much ♥️ ________________
As always, I wouldn't miss the accessits, since they formed an integral part of the competition as well. I thank you all wholeheartedly from the podium. Sending you loads of love right from here, catch it! ️uttkarsh_15 ️sayurii_ ️inara__ ️daunting_phoenix ️thesunshineloves ️charlie_emerald ️diyabedi ️tejaswini_3 ️2nd_incarnation ️faulty_puppet ️life_versified ️_floral ️anshika_winks ️jennet__ ️jodiya ️tamanna3 ️the97_introvert ️_aradhya ️zeee_zephyrs (please don't mind if you have changed your usernames ) ______________________________________________
I'm so sorry that I had to bring it down to a simple arrangement and a formal hosting ceremony. This is all what I could do, thinking of all the safety I have to ensure in care of you all. And I'm also sorry for not complementing each of your pieces separately, I've already let you all know why. Greatest apologies for making you witness all my lame jokes (I tried to make it as nice as possible)
Tonnes of apologies for the users who were assigned funny roles. I knew only a few whom I could add there and I couldn't help :"( I really hope that the unbiased results made everyone happy. After all, we too are people and we have different perspectives, right? So let us appreciate the present and enjoy the time here. We further have our campaign, and then, we will all have a typical Manglorean dinner planned by me, which I really hope you all will love to taste. Thank you!!!
| A VERSE AND A PEN CHALLENGE | (Part 03: Seeking the hidden)
Hello!! *appears in Miraquill after many days just like Taylor Swift gets up from her grave in "Look What You Made Me Do"*
Soo, when you all literally felt I had forgotten about the challenge, I'm here, coming out like a demon XD
This post is being posted half-heartedly, since the tour for Karnataka which was planned for the prompt has been cancelled due to the host's health issues.
*receives all the bouquets, just in case someone gives* *listens to "Soon You'll Get Better" and gets calm* ________
As you all have known, the participants have been reviewed and scored by our FOUR lovely judges, who definitely deserve all of the love and appreciation.
But whom will you exactly appreciate? XD
~ So, all you have to do is guess the four judges' USERNAMES and mention them in the comments box. Please do not tag them, since I'll be sued if they do not turn out to be in the jury panel.
~ Clue 1: One of them is a gentleman and one of them is a lady for sure. ~ Clue 2: All of their usernames might or might not have a "p" in common, but have English alphabet letters for sure. ~ Clue 3: They are the judges of the challenge. ~ Clue 4: They are all Miraquilleans. ~ Clue 5: One of the judges is unexpected and surprising.
*Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? Cz I know that it's delicate* (swifties meanwhile get angry on me for dropping the most important clues)
~ Everyone is free to comment.
~ Whoever manages to guess the names of three or more (lol) judges correct, will be given my favourite book virtually.
Hurrayyyyy!! Let me laugh and enjoy now ________
P.S: Too many TS references since I'm listening only to her since a month. Queen <3
"Forgiveness budded not with the fanfare of epiphany" - line from The Kite Runner , Khalid Hosseini The concept of moor inspired by Wuthering Heights, Emile Bronte
All written rights reserved 9 June 2021 11. 59 pm
[ Details (including Title) 717 words, 4302 characters, 14 sentences, 36 paragraphs Reading level - College graduate Reading time - 2 min 37 sec Speaking time - 3 min 59 sec ] ___________________
If My Heart Were ~
If my heart were a moor in the wilderness, wide and wild entity, laying and layering grasslands, it would've been an infertile marshland, yet my persistence penetrates the highlands, heightened my sensitivities and evocates my emotions. Turning the acidic soils into alluring alchemy of regeneration; the swamps, patches and pits where I sowed my temperance, glossing my lexicons and flourishing my fervour. The walls of my heart have formed a labyrinth, threads of yore spinning around, creating a puzzle ; a route without a map, trespassing navigation. Yards and miles stretches the moor, where the lone traveler is Melancholia, a mossy patch sliding all over the pathways. Poison ivy strokes greenery and periwinkle spray purple hues, wildflowers add plethora of diversity and daffodils invite wistfulness as well as whimsical vibes. // In the moors of my heart, I would tread for miles Wanderlust in mind, seeking a hiraeth for my soul //
If my heart were an ocean, deep and dense covering majority of surface, it would've been the tears of my lost love that's the source of salinity due to the dire longing and aching nostalgia dissolved in it. Frequent turbulent tides and stirring storms would rock the uninvited guests of pirates; depression plundering my virtuous treasures and scavenging bits of my sanity ; and those invited sailors ; seeking the coast of wisdom and seeding patience in wavering waves. My heart is the azure abyss of ambiguous secrets, a Bermuda triangle shielding myriad mysteries and an endless eternity of agonizing ache. I'm home to whalieans of loneliness, predator sharks of terror, stingrays of impulse as well as dolphins of affection and multitude of sea life, emotional panels. Those who dive in me with treasure and pleasure in mind never even met my ocean bed, my depth drowns them, endangering fake love and facades. // In the ocean of my heart, I hide secrets of treasure Sapphire blues beguiling, turning every pain into pleasure //
If my heart were a valley, elongating and framing hills with anklets of rivers and adornments of spring break, it'd have been the essence of true love in me that lead to the outbreak of an epiphany ; a spring season of daydreams and desires. River valleys quenching the thirst of lost souls with haikus and sonnets of solace and solitude ; Glacial valleys form lakes and rock beds of odes and epics of past and polarities ; Desert valleys ensure Oasis of dreams and mirage of fantasies, etherees and eulogies of longing and loss. I bloom roses with thorns ; love with pain, daisies with desire, daffodils with pride, lilies with luck, sunflowers with warmth, cherry blossoms with sweetness, waterlilies with devotion, peonies with promises and lavenders with lasting love. // In the valley of my heart, I bloom florets flamboyant Enticing redolence and enriching reverence //
If my heart were a mountain, elevated steeps of strength and the summit of victory, it would've been the peak of euphoria where my destination adorns graffiti of gratitude and my destiny gleams with gleeful tears. Wisdom, knowledge and skills would array as ranges and summits, with inherent nature of tolerance and pride. Confidence bundles me in clouds, faith becomes my rock Caves, sculptures and temples embellish my sacred abode and I remain the deity, worshiped for loyalty and honour, spreading peace and provoking passion // In the mountain of my heart, I traverse euphoric realms Honoring pride and unwavering loyalty //
While I bloom love whimsically, with all the curios clouds and throat of quest ; blossom kindness serenading the light shining above, source to my soul, all-encompassing, all extinguishing, all-knowing divine light ; among all the virtues, forgiveness moulds my crown, so my heart could always hold this crown.
Forgiveness budded not with the fanfare of epiphany but with the stealth of tranquility, permeating the void like an elusive zephyr ; Caressing my cacophonous chaos, gently clearing the thick fog around ; Finding the single candle still alight in the candelabra covered in cobwebs in the corner of my heart.
// The light inside one's soul is eternal Fog remains until a fated zephyr travels From the moors to the mountains To breathe life into the seraphic soul //
Your thoughts and the way of stringing them in verses creates charms on the readers
Keep inking and keep smiling poetess
dishang8614Sorry for the late reading my dear This is not just a beautiful piece but a magnificent masterpiece, it's eye catching and your thoughts are like gems, they are worth to read, such a great writer you're ❤❤❤❤❤❤
Cold isn't you, but your solid vapid tears, permeating the empty wine glasses. When loneliness starts to circle about your eyes and hope sinks down your parched throat, I creep in.
Saturation points would prompt you to quit, but I'll hold on to you like a stiff, starchy father's embrace. When your feathers start to feel hefty and your vision elopes with the winter morning fog, I creep in.
Oftentimes, mute lips invite seclusion, and lengthy nights carry unstitched dreams. When dusky silence intent to stupefy your reflex responses and your opulent bedposts fail to lull my clement species to sleep, I creep in.
"Dear stranger, I am going to tell you now that if you're here to stay, I will ask for too much"
Sadistic, sometimes turbulent. Yes, my traits deserve disgrace. However, I keep you engaged, for I want you do a one-eighty, to fight a little more for yourself, to discover your strengths the hard way, 'cause you already lie on the edge of life and death.
I wonder, if my backstory would ever be lent ears or it would only howl in vain, amid the spider webs of some deserted chateau. Nevertheless, take all my love as I take a leave only to be cloaked in a silken robe of curse.
With only seventeen sunflowers in my garden still I sit here writing about life but my pen seems repellent towards those sullen pages and moves to an old, blank canvas, starts with a vacuous stroke to give a monochromatic shade of green and narrate tales of these flowers.
Four sunflowers were blooming in a beeline but as the fifth one bloomed a stroke of black(fear) was added 'cause during its realm, a soft, nascent hand slipped off her parents' fingers, in the turmoil of the streets but she was blessed with good luck and this time holded the hands tightly along with the fear of being left alone.
The fourteenth sunflower seemed sanguine a stroke of yellow(hope) was added and green was fading but when was life prosaic and without some piquant? when this slender figure, rose upto a great height on tawny hills, above clouds for trekking what if my legs would have slipped, followed by an earthward plummet I swear, this time I felt close to you, to death.
The graph of this journey is affluent with ups and downs, petrichors were always pleasant, until they turned into storms, but 'I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship' and the canvas of these seventeen sunflowers is exuberant with variegate shades except grey and with remnants of each downfall.
I almost couldn't write but the prompt was beautiful. Also, it resembled closely with something I've always wanted to write on (being deeply moved by 2 songs close to my heart - Young forever & Encore) but somehow never did.
*I'll give the best of me - From 'The best of me' by Nicholas Sparks
prompt -3 Write a piece based on the theme " Darkness in the lime light " The lines in " " are used as a reference from the book "The alchemist" by Paulo coelho. ____________________________________________
He was an aimless nestling in an empyrean of desires he wanted to spread his wings to fly across the sky He adjourned to the city of lights filling his soul with bunch of hopes and pinch of delight
but soon his hopes were uprooted by the storm of aversion and detestation tears of disappointment pooled in his eyes still he kept them from falling tears ignited his passion to follow his dreams " All the universe conspired in helping him to achieve his dreams "
He started shining like sirius in new moon like a sapphire in the depths of crustal plates He plenished millions of soul with delectation removing the dark clouds of desolation from their frangible heart
But what about him?
Within the brilliance of limelight he always finds himself in the dark abandoned chamber of his heart The room is filled with his childhood memories with the endearment of his allies and homies the vintage portrait dangled on the faded walls are the reminiscent of his childhood baladries the floors covered with blue bells and purslanes reminding him the days of spring The dilapidated doors of the chamber are seized and the grey windows are shutterd the rusted grills of his windows epitomising how worn out he is by the sufferings of his heart the shards of mirror personifying his broken soul Again each shard of mirror reflecting the sweet memories of his past
with the teary eyes and despondent heart he is thinking " Every blessing he had ignored became a curse " He is blessed with everything But now that everything seems nothing.
She was my favourite Chipped cardboard surrounding her As fragile as our hearts She carries his last captured smile Skiing in the water of Rhodes Enjoying his life you and I can just imagine of
//Each of us start out as a watertight vessel And these things happen- These people leave us or don't love us or don't get us, or we don't get them, and we lose and fail and hurt one another. And the vessel starts to crack open in places.//
We all are paper people Living paper life in paper towns But he was not, he was different A vessel filled with adventure till the brim And call it the fate of a potter's pottery He cracked open and crumbled His life partner B cepacia terminating With his own demise
There are always some strings connecting us One to other and other to another And once they break We lead to our final destination
B cepacia broke his string with us We saw him lying on the hospital bed Choking to death and surviving again With those artificial artefacts of life My heart broke to pieces whenever I saw him Undergoing surgeries after surgeries And he hiding his pain beneath A feeble yet enchanting smile This perhaps made me question, Why people hadn't made it easier for the dead to rise?
Tagore once wrote, A death is not the extinguishing of a light But the putting out of the lamp Because the dawn has come.
And one day his dawn arrived With machines around him screaming their voices He ly there fighting with every single cell of his lungs And eventually he gave up Not that he had no strength Just because he was sick of doing so everyday And he left us With the same enchanting smile of his That she still carries ∆nshika
Frozen, I sat there; overwhelmed as I gazed, gobsmacked as I dazed, that curve unfazed by the manacles of time. Yet I sat there, gelid attuning to lukewarm fervours, amid the frigid hiemal of evenfall. Soughing with every portent of its schmaltz.
"Photine pretence yet a stoic spirit" That recollection caterwauled. My eyes blurring at the anemoia flabbergasted at her flamboyant self, as she fleered with her insouciant persona, Yet whisted me with her eunoia.
Her selcouth smile professed forechoosing a life as a quaintrelle; rather than a beast-awaiting belle, or distress-loaded damsel. Gaping at her figurine I tried to conjecture a surmise, But maybe her photograph was still not competent enough, to succumb the fervours of her elegiac demise.
Laconic love, goetic grace yet her curve remained unfazed. La douleur exquise betides, a pining resides coveting for a converge with her in my life, consigning to oblivion that she had it no more.
Gawking at the wooden frame from my wooden chair scribbling aubades for her with a wooden pen to salve cordolium of my splintered wooden heart and insinuate duende to my wooden spectre.
Snivelled then bawled yet I sondered, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." Still I pondered When the lilac from my skies evanesced with her departure, All that remained was a tenebrific quietus. And a photograph corroborating the bereavement of my caim. My sole impetus.
These brown walls of my smoky whare have been a testament to the brawls I had between my calamus and my heart, which is recalcitrant; I usually disregarded the pleas of my quill — to write my undemanding thoughts ad be forthright as a writer should And gratuitously gave in to the likes of the latter, by being dishonest to myself. / I became a C R I M I N A L/
I wrote under the dim light of the candle About philosophical ideologies of which, I myself was unaware— those crumpled pages laughed at my foolish attempts to pen down notions and emotions which I had never experienced in my lifetime, And yet again my inflexibility infiltrated, through the cracks on my wall which I never bothered to repair—it screamed— Please the audience! Please the readers! / I became a S L A V E/
Time flew by; the candles on my broken desk was replaced with a black lantern, I became a rich man, with untainted glory; I became a rag man with a rudimentary approach towards literature; I failed to enjoy the process of writing while I learnt to grab the fruits of my undeserving success / I became a P R I S O N E R/
There was chaos outside the door of my shack It was deafening—the limelight that drove away my shadow, was dreaded by me, I entered inside perforce, only to despise the darkness that had set in; my sun was sinking, Somewhere my conscience was loathing me I was feeling shallow— my ink had created poetries which everyone fancied except me, I saw Anne's diary and she comforted me— "I can shake off everything as I write, My sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn" I added— If only I write for my own self, If only I stop gratifying the crowd; I realised that I am a part of it too— And my own happiness matters a lot, to me. / I became T R U T H F U L/
they couldn't, somehow, grasp the concept of having to brush your teeth with your wrist slightly deviated for that streak of icing by the edge of your second molar. because they believed that you are partially conjoined to become something you refused to eat. but they said if you count the number of steps you take from the shallows to the deep, you'll realize they aren't less than the bubbles that pop in between your teeth. because we chew a little more than what we can swallow often, but never take foot more than what we can step.
if the birds understand not the concept of the sky, shouldn't we write the wings for other things; that know not to fly?
at a vast scale of individual mirrors lining up in a department store, i could no more count its repetitive visuals than determine the differences each will have to prove its worth of being chosen. they all reflect the same, i'd say. each person, mediating every intuition as the only thing that's possibly visible in front of it. like a yellow flower amidst a garden more of the same, in which the only apparent distinction they have is their place.
when i was small enough to fit in the dog house whose owners haven't drifted to a number no more than two, i could see the yard slowly being emptied with a picking stick and a trash bag of dried leaves. if circumstances are necessary, i'd reason out. being rebellious is in line with skipping classes or hitting a classmate, but not in avoiding chores, isn't it? but that honestly wasn't the main reason when the sun was up and my dad would sit on the porch step, counting to ten. i'd hide nowhere else other than a wooden kennel home with a holed roof, big enough to fit my childhood and a car engine you'll hear in the distance, saying maybe we'll finish the game tomorrow instead. so you'll wake up on your bed whilst falling asleep on the ground, again and again, until the hands that carry you decay faster than an autumn leaf adjacent to its decomposing tree.
"there's food in the fridge," my mom would say whenever i woke up, over and over, until they'd remember what my meals had consumed.
They buried her memories in me– in an empty wooden frame All her moments, all her screams, all her lies, all her cries in this one wide frozen smile. Do you still remember the day when she first walked and how she fell thousands of times? I was still there, with a different frozen smile. Do you still remember the day when she spoke her first word? "Goodbye", she spoke. I was still there watching her predict the future. Do you still remember the day when she giggled and waved at a passing train, her tiny mouth uttering that newly learnt word? I was still there, in her hand like the friend who is always by her side. Do you still remember the day when she called the boy next door as her "lover"? I was still there laughing and waiting for two beautiful smiles to embrace me. Do you still remember the day when she was first heartbroken and she cried for hours just to forgive him? I was still there, empty with dented edges and broken glass, letting the photograph burn. Do you still remember the day when she wrote a letter to you all with a single word written on it? I was still there, helpless and letting her go. I wanted to tell her that it's okay, you are not a motionless photograph. I know you are broken but you are not a frame that can't be healed again. All these days, I was the closest thing to her, I am a dirty, old frame that still remembers her touch, that still remembers the taste of her tears, that still remembers the sound of her silence that still remembers the day she was lost. I still remember HER. Every day, I see them crying who buried her in me and I keep on reflecting that perfect smile of her as if she was never lost. But "She was lost in her longing to understand"
Desires, ambitions, targets, success, I have everything yet I crave more Fame, money, joy, and pleasure But worthless heed I need no more.
Every time stepping on to the dais, In front of the toxic interviewers, I try to catch those haphazard eyes, Which hold the desperate glares. They have their cameras in their hands, Shooting every movement I make, Waiting for me to utter the words I crammed. I speak those meaningless phrases, Stumble upon lies, Yet my words flow smoothly enough, And they don’t deny.
As I talk about myself, which is not me anymore, I take a walk through my caliginous mind, I walk through the stygian forest of thoughts, And glance at my reflections staring back at me From the mirrors of obscured pain. They are me, who are bleeding inside, Been stabbed with questions I can’t answer, Being forced to say things I don’t mean, Make promises I don’t want to keep. I’m the only one in the battleground, Fighting the shadows of anxiety, Not for long, I can keep myself up, As it is joined by insecurity.
Afraid if I could keep up with expectations, I step off the dais, The applauds and cheers go unheard by me, Now for a while, I’m left alone and free, To prepare myself to go to the next battlefield.
• When you were an infant Gazing at your innocent face with those curious and radiant eyes, your mom constantly used to smile... ~I was present in that unconditional smile of your mother who always found HER OWN REFLECTION IN YOU~
• When you were a growing teenager Those people out there in the society filled you with insecurities and inside you evolved a self doubt... ~I was present in that "DON'T WORRY my little champ, YOU CAN DO IT" told by your dad, who had never dying faith in you since the very start~
• When you were turning into an adult Back then when you were clueless about your life and wanted to end everything with a sharp cut of a knife... ~I was present in those eyes of the guy to whom you were his entire life, Looking at the broken you, whose eyes yelled, "I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOU. DARLING, I NEED YOU TO SURVIVE."~
• When it was the time for your farewell And you were living the final moments of your life... ~I was present in all those memories going across your head Which you wanted to cherish even on your DEATHBED~
//I am a walk in the rain I am present in every lover's each single vein I am a tool for a broken heart to mend I am a road to walk on, without any end I am present in the serene moon who visits you every dark night Reminding you to adorn your scars and still shine bright I am a romantic song which can make anyone sway I am the air without which you can't survive a single day I am tender, pure and genuine I was born to make this world a better place to live in I am not wicked, it's you who used me for wrong I am a boon whose presence makes every bond strong They say I live in their hearts and I feel like every other emotion But trust me, I am rare yet if you try to seek me, I'm endowed in God's each single creation I don't break people's heart and I am not illicit I am love and I am in myself enough explicit//
They say "Love is like the air You can't see it But you can feel it." So fall in love and feel me!
Ps. Just tried something different from my usual write ups. And tbh I personally don't know how to write a pov and I don't even remember reading one! So just scribbled anything that came to my head. Please pardon if there lies any mistake. Suggestions are most welcomed, as always!
Edit : I'm still not able to believe that I'm freaking the second runner up of this challenge. Thank you so much everyone for your kind read❤ Much grateful