#twosidesc

12 posts
  • say_me_krish 50w

    Couldn't have had a better third pod. Thank you so much for this overwhelming gift and surprise reposts @mirakee and @writersnetwork ❤️ (67, 11)
    Krish adores you and will miss you both ��
    ------------

    | A life without a facade |

    My mother advised me
    to have a bigger mouth
    but to make some
    ornate filigrees as my
    borders so that
    the population of my
    conversation doesn't
    drown due to overflow,
    and anger accompanying
    can make my words
    dipped in sinister letters.
    She said that people
    judge by my parlances,
    and I should neither
    bring droughts nor floods.
    -- L i m i t a t i o n s --

    My father ordered me
    to read about the
    Statue of Liberty for
    some motivations and
    applications for straight
    spines while walks,
    but warned me to
    transform my copper-parts
    to layered and steady
    stainless-steel crockeries.
    He believes that rust
    cannot have paints upon,
    and a plate can relish
    and make savour too.
    -- T o u g h n e s s --

    I said to both of them
    that living alone can
    still be a priority,
    but wearing a facade
    is not. Speaking is a
    choice, talking an
    option, and being
    myself is an essence.
    My postures are my own,
    and being somebody
    else kills my existence,
    my breakage can
    only happen when I give
    a chance, and I do not.
    I said change isn't
    The law of nature, and
    my jingle is "to evolve,
    improve and amend"
    -- (R) e v o l u t i o n --

    They said I do not
    understand the world,
    I said they did not
    understand what being
    myself meant to me.
    -- S e l f  l o v e --


    ~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Dec 20, 2020
    ___________________________________________________

    The previous post is meant for farewell itself, so let's make this a nice and normal literary post :)

    ALSO REFER:
    ornate filigrees- a metaphor for fences

    @writersbay #skp_writes #twosidesc #jinglec #wnnkrish

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  • pooja17 50w

    During day !****!During night
    We all pray !****!We all rest
    To enjoy !****!To do best
    The life's tray!****!The very next
    ©pooja17

  • anavah 50w

    Love and Hatred

    Hatred breeds mistrust. | Love creates a blind.
    You look for hidden flaws. | Passion in your mind.
    Silence creates a rift. | Music creates a bridge.
    Ravenous vultures hunt. | Doves perched on the ridge.
    Yesterday I broke | The day starts
    Few pieces of myself. | A fluttering heart
    Acid in my veins | Cleansed and renewed
    Life and death mingle. | Heaven's prelude.
    ©writeranavah

  • bluepuppy01 50w

    Uhhh just finished this ish (haven't added punctuations yet...) #bluepup
    Haven't written in a while- feels weird lol
    #twosidesc #writersbay #bayentry
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    [Un]Cherish(ing/ed) Moments
    ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
    Now's POV (Present)
    °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
    They say I’m impatient
    Waiting for no one
    Always busy moving forward
    Burying the past beneath glass cases
    Smudged with charred fingerprints
    A symbol Future likes to use
    Because the scent of burning memories
    Or, well, memories that will burn
    Are like that of aromatic incense
    To honor the life of the dead
    But to be honest, I tend to lag
    Behind currents trying to drag me
    Down the rapids of possibility
    Endless waterfalls await my passage
    While I dawdle over the moments
    That fascinate me to no end
    The ones humans share and interact within
    Selfishly savoring these instances
    As a spectator alone in a line of just myself
    Before Past comes to collect the relics
    I witnessed exist, live, and expire

    ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

    Past’s POV
    °°°°°°°°°°°°°
    They say I’m better the way I am
    But they call me “Used To Be”
    And, for that, I feel bad about
    How they blame poor Now
    For the things Future planned for him
    I see him do his best
    Trying to enjoy all of Life’s little moments
    When he doesn’t know what’s coming
    Even if loads of hate and disaster
    Are invisibly scheduled on the calendar
    I should probably be proud
    Noticing that all people talk about
    Are yesterdays and tomorrows
    But knowing how they wish
    For it to not be Now
    As a companion alongside their journey
    Makes my job uncomfortable
    Because they haven’t realized
    What I’ve already experienced
    Which is that Now can’t hold their hand forever
    Future will come sooner than they think
    To mark the moments meant for me
    My cue to take away
    What should've been cherished
    Before I revealed myself too late

    ©bluepuppy01
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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    [Un]Cherish(ing/ed) Moments
    ©bluepuppy01

  • santor_674 50w

    ETERNITY : While one sang , "death doesn't reckon about the end of soul , it still pursues it's journey to eternity. Ironically , life when started has an end at some point of time."
    The eye held up with " life" stumbles and deviates stating that - " life brightens a soul , while death darkens it bit by bit!"
    The eye of death chuckles while the other turns away!

    MELODY : Now the eye held up with life says - " Life tunes itself , journey that it forms- strands of each song is encored , while death is all about silence and pain , that no music wish to entangle."
    The eye with death with a little sensation says - " The mournings , hush , grief , pain all couple up themselves tuning a melody soothening the dead corpse lying in its tombstone"
    The silence between them remains..

    POETRIES : Eye held up with death mockingly laughs, " Poetry on death?! A poet disguising himself as a dead soul bleeds out his poetries ! The pain craved by life is galloped by death urging the poet to scribe "
    Eyes held up with life was a bit hesitant , but still speaks of the truth as usual , " Dear death, had not the poet thought to live but to die , do you think he would have written those poetries?! A poet blends poetries not from his dead soul , but from his living breath engulfing him to pain that makes him scribe!

    // Life is wild but not tasteless as death//
    "At the end , they played a game of chance of whirling a coin to decide who is good or bad , but the coin perplexed itself answers no one and whirls for long - leaving both the eyes with no conception"

    #twosidesc

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    TWO SIDES!

    As the eyes converse , one held up with death while the other spoke of life , lies there a chaos between those blinks and whispers, of which is good while the other bad!

    //It was a weary night treasuring the secrecy , comes there an arduous contemplation as both of them spoke the truth , as they were the same eyes , lying besides//
    ©santor_674

  • pallavi4 50w

    Death and life

    Death

    I am dead
    I think I am sure I know
    From the lightness of my body
    And the painless stubbing of my toe
    I can see a desert with mountains
    On the other side of the fence
    The side I’m standing on is grassy
    And lined up with people looking tense
    I make my way up the line
    Towards the tall dark man guarding the gates
    We are divided according to
    The nature of our fates
    I’m asked to go one way into the desert
    Everyone’s lined up in an organised line
    The gaunt faces of people there leaves me
    With the thought that nothing’s fine
    I walk up the winding road
    Petrified and grief stricken with fear
    I reach the boatman empty handed
    And my eyes well up with tears
    This is the very end of my journey
    There’s no going back from here
    I am being rowed towards the gates of hell
    All I hear is an endless ringing in my ear
    The grey clouds in an overcast sky
    Spell the advent of the impending doom
    My heart sinks for I finally know my fate
    I become desolate and filled with gloom



    Life

    I am alive , I think with a smile
    I can feel my heart beat
    From the blood coursing in my veins
    To the wriggling toes on my feet
    Previously all I could see were white clouds
    And feel myself floating in the air
    A choir of angels I could hear singing
    I felt at peace with myself there
    I approached the angel at the golden gates
    I was told this wasn’t my time
    I was turned away from heaven and told
    To return back and that everything would be fine
    The minute I turned away from the gates
    My eyes open up wide
    I seemed to have woken up from a coma
    To find my family by my side
    Now I have several tubes keeping me alive
    But full of life I am
    All I want to do is to get out of the intubation
    And to my happy home scram
    This is the beginning of a new life for me
    I’m anxious to live it to the full
    Even my tears have happiness in them
    So great is mortality’s pull
    I see a bright day with blue skies
    Every breath for me now is a gift
    My heart fills with hope as my grandkids run
    To see me and help my spirits lift

    @pallavi4

    18th of December, 2020

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner - Blbl by Philipp Igumnov

    #twosidesc #twosides #life #death #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee

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  • love_whispererr 50w

    #twosidesc (pc_pinterest)

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    R U I N S

    ʀ ᴜ ɪ ɴ ꜱ

    A dead poet and the dark night
    vines ensnarl on legs of poet inside gloomy cask
    and the cold moon smiles continuously
    while reading his sumptuous soliloquy at three am.


    The terrace and some Shakespearean sonnets
    I read those magical sonnets for you and
    rewrite them on the skulls of our woebegone love
    o darling, do you listen them ever ?


    Chimerical castle and a dragon
    eye-pits of a vile dragon stow away
    behind the high-priced antiques of that castle
    and that meadow becomes a deathbed of reality.


    Rented clouds and death
    the death king whisks the curtains of dark clouds
    and the raindrops abut her limpid teardrops
    & words scribble suicidal notes to her beloved sky.


    A morgue and sunshine
    those beams of sun neighbour the yards of morgue
    no one comes out from dour womb of dead bodies
    & uncherished memories gaze at the almanac.


    You and me
    funeral of my dead hopes smell like rotten eggs
    in winter nights, you lie under the candelabras
    & I can't scream holding the ennui and holocaust.


    ©вι∂уα в.

  • lilac_lily 50w

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  • writersbay 50w

    Write a poem with two sides, right and left. (Two themes)

    Example in the background. Let us know if you have any questions.

    Tag and share with #twosidesc

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