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  • gopika_singh 35w

    Why does it rain?

    To lift some.
    And to drown others...

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 37w

    I sit there, amazed... Watching you dance barefoot on that moist grass.
    As you crush those green fruity little petals, they leave a trace on your foot and colour you with their melancholic green shades.
    Though the one's left alive, as they preserve your impressions... don't mourn. Even in death, they capture your prominent edges.
    Is it a sin to capture in my poetry, vibrancy, in something destructive... like death?
    I can't help but feel like even that graveyard is celebrating with you... dancing with you... And that all of nature is in a spell of you.
    Just like I am.


    ...to be continued.

    Read More

    Spellbound.

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 37w

    I keep casually spilling out of reality.

  • gopika_singh 38w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee @mirakeeworld #loud #life #silence #voice


    I have finally completed this poem!
    Hope y'all like it :)


    LOUD

    I'd stare out of the windows
    High up the ceiling
    I'd watch the blue skies
    Slowly revealing
    The parts of itself
    From behind the curtains
    Made of cotton feathers and
    Impetuous versions

    When the dark engulfs
    My pretty blue ether
    I watch her go
    My beautiful mother
    She'd lock me inside
    Away from the clamour
    She would go out of this
    Silenced manor

    The furniture trumpets
    Announcing it's dawn again
    The shrieking dishes
    They call out my name
    We eat, I roam
    I watch things in monotone
    Things laugh and they cry
    In this cold catacomb

    When the velvet black
    Wraps the daylight within
    And the holes in its fabric
    Shimmer and wink
    I watch him go
    With a sad dumb smile
    My father he goes
    Out in the hostile

    The cutlery whisper
    The doors go wham
    But the people living in this house
    Are silent as a lamb
    I am that cloud
    Peeking purposelessly across
    No language or expression
    Had no voice to my thought

    But then one day
    The trumpets didn't call
    No fights, no babble
    There was no noise at all
    I searched for the silence
    In this muffled muted dome
    I searched for my parents
    But they didn't return home...

    The deafening noises
    Of the outer world
    Grew louder and louder
    As they were hurled
    They'd bang on my door
    Shatter our defences
    But the silence forcing me
    To cross through the fences

    So I placed my hand
    With an eerie benign
    On the cold metal knob
    That sent chills down my spine
    But the world I imagined
    Of houses embedded
    In large blue skies
    Made me determined
    To unleash the external
    To rattle with crowds
    To dance with the people
    On the fluffy white clouds

    I pushed open the door
    And let the chatter in
    The silenced dome
    Had never been
    Filled within
    With People voices
    With whines and honks
    And with impatient noises

    This was the day
    I found out about
    The language of expression
    The voice of my thoughts
    I found out about
    The words and their forms
    Of melody and music
    Unharmonious life form

    The overwhelming scene...
    Made me drop to the ground
    As the world I reckoned
    Was contrary to what I found
    The sky too far above
    Solid land beneath
    People could speak
    And Besiege, Deceit

    The bloodied road
    Just 6 feet away
    With deaf dumb harmless
    Now lifeless lambs
    Though all I heard were
    Shouts and cries
    Of people fighting over
    A cacophonous pram

    Some of them
    are forcibly silenced
    Others choose to
    Ignore the violence
    The muted words
    Hidden behind the loud
    Accessory to crimes
    By muted crowds

    I closed my eyes
    Though I couldn't mourn
    Couldn't cry or scream
    Cause I didn't know
    The language to cry in
    What words to form
    Since I was new to
    All the social norms

    I did the only thing
    That the world responds with
    To a sickness rife
    Only thing I had ever known
    Since I was the silenced kid
    Of the silenced manor
    Who didn't know
    He had a voice of his own

    I was taught silence
    Like every other child
    By this deaf dumb world
    Violent and wild
    But if you don't speak
    Of the mushroom cloud
    And people who can
    Aren't allowed
    If every other person
    Has mouth covered by a shroud
    Then why is
    This world so loud?



    @gopika_singh

    Read More

    Loud

    .
    If every other person
    Has mouth covered by a shroud
    Then why is
    This world so loud?

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 39w

    Steps

    Love
    Love is like the pain that heals
    It's like sugar
    Sugar that melts on you lips
    In your heart
    But it isn't sugar
    It's something more natural
    Something existing within us all
    Yet still untouched my human intervention
    You can't corrupt love
    It corrupts you
    Makes you more YOU
    Makes you wanna be selfish
    Makes you wanna take care of yourself, love yourself
    Without having to stop caring about others.
    It's makes you wanna look good for you and still be able to want to do things for others.
    It's intense
    Deep
    Whole
    People are afraid of getting hurt.
    Of opening up again.
    I know I'm a stranger but trust me.
    Everything is worth being in love.
    Everything is worth falling in love.
    Everything is worth LOVE
    Fall in love with people.
    Fall in love with your favourite plant
    Fall in love with things
    That book
    Or that pretty little keychain
    Yourself
    Your talents
    Your art.
    And don't stop in between
    Love it all the way.
    There was a time I couldn't let go of my paintings.
    Because I made them.
    They were a proof of my accomplishment.

    And then I learned to open up.
    Learned to love
    To let go
    And I realized
    I was strong enough to let them go
    To give the original pieces to someone.
    I started to love my art more than the momentoes
    I realized if I made if once then I can make it again
    And if not the same, then I was capable of making a piece better than the last one.
    I realised I'm not supposed to hold on to the paintings but fall in love with the art.
    Fall in love with my talent.
    And trust it.

    If I loose one of my poems
    Then I'll write one better.
    One a little more ME.
    One reflecting the person I'm becoming every day.
    Because I have learned to love things all the way.
    Im still not complete
    I'm still struggling with love
    With accepting and with letting go
    But everyday I fall more in love
    And I learn more about everything
    I don't intend to reach a certain point of completion where I'll know everything about things, about people, about life, about love
    Because there isn't one.
    There's no finality in love
    No destination.
    I'm in love with everything step I take.
    That step is love
    Ever growing
    Ever lasting
    And endless.
    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 43w

    This is not a poem.


    Blanket

    You never really know what every single touch means untill you don't have it anymore.
    I used to feel his hand,
    His strong, loving, warm hand
    Everytime he kept it on my shoulder
    And suddenly the world was the safest place.
    I didn't realize what it was to me until it wasn't there anymore.
    It was sudden.
    Just like that... In an impulse, in a fragile moment, he stopped existing.
    And the world went silent.
    And everything else remained same yet everything had changed.
    Life had changed.
    I tried to wrap myself in different blankets of different sizes and different materials.
    But I could never recreate that touch on my shoulder.
    I could never recreate the weight of his hand,
    no blanket was warm enough to match his warmth.
    And the more I tried to mimic him and his memory, the more I failed,
    Because nothing in this world could match him, could bring him back to me.

    All these failed attempts made me feel so unsafe, like even though I had wrapped myself in a blanket, I was numb and naked within.

    I kept pushing the world further away.
    I barely stepped out anymore.
    I was barely living.
    The sunshine grew cold.
    The days got darker.
    The windows were misty, soiled and clouded. They kept the world outside.
    But I couldn't stop it from existing.
    People kept living their lives on the outside of these dreadful walls and ugly windows.
    I couldn't stop the life from moving on so I banished it out of mine.
    And everytime it tried to knock on my door, I'd look away.
    And finally there was nothing but silence.
    Not even a happy colour existed here anymore.
    It was just like a loo wind that had drained the life out of a person.

    I was inside an empty room full of fading memories.

    Just when I stopped expecting life to make attempts, I heard a loud crash.
    Something crashed my window.
    The window that separated the outside world from mine.
    Window in a room just outside of the room I was in.
    But I could barely move a muscle in this cold place so I didn't.

    I lied there in my chair, in his chair, curious but unbothered.
    I could hear the faded footsteps, like that of a kid trying to sneak in.
    I guess it had become a haunted house that I used to find when I was a kid.
    I couldn't help but smile at the irony.
    While I was lost in my mind, remembering a version of me that used to exist, I felt a small and wholesome hand on my shoulder.
    A sweet voice whispered to me, "Dear ghost, I am here to set you free."

    Read More

    Blanket

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 44w

    The only thing that will remain in the end,
    Is the echoes of our existence.
    And echoes... They fade away too.

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 45w

    This is not complete yet...
    Full version coming soon.

    #loud
    #mirakee
    @writersnetwork @mirakee

    Read More

    Loud

    I'd stare out the windows
    High up the ceiling
    I'd watch the blue skies
    Slowly revealing
    The parts of itself
    From behind the curtains
    Made of cotton feathers and
    Impetuous versions

    When the dark engulfs
    My pretty blue ether
    I watch her go
    My beautiful mother
    She'd lock me inside
    Away from the clamour
    She would go out of this
    Silenced manor

    The furniture trumpets
    Announce its dawn again
    The shrieking dishes
    They call out my name
    We eat, I roam
    I watch things in monotone
    Things laugh and they cry
    In this cold catacomb

    When the velvet black
    Wraps the daylight within
    And the holes in its fabric
    Shimmer and wink
    I watch him go
    With a sad dumb smile
    My father he goes
    Out in the hostile

    The cutlery whisper
    The doors go wham
    But the people living in this house
    Are silent as a lamb
    I am that cloud
    Peeking purposelessly across
    No language or expression
    Had no voice to my thought

    But then one day
    The trumpets didn't call
    No fights, no babble
    There was no noise at all
    I searched for the silence
    In this muffled muted dome
    I searched for my parents
    But they didn't return home...

    The deafening noises
    Of the other world
    Grew louder and louder
    As they were hurled
    They'd bang on my door
    Shatter our defences
    But the silence forcing me
    To cross through the fences
    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 47w

    I'm sorry...
    I didn't mean to make anyone sad or anything but..
    But do you ever think about the one week that's the hardest.
    The most difficult to deal with in an entire year.
    When of all the mediocre days where life is as normal as it can get
    and the little things in life aren't as impressive as they appear in poetries but life still goes on...
    Planets still revolving and rotating on their axes
    and the universe still expanding,
    gravity still functional and operational like it will always be...
    Person standing next to you might be living his or her best life and you stand there.. staring at the sky wondering what happened to you?
    Where did it all change?
    Even in this astronomical confusion you somehow managed to deal with it.
    But as soon as you realize you were getting used to this life... That day or a week hits you.
    Crashing down your entire world... Your entire reality.
    The day that isn't normal no matter how hard you try.
    A week that you wish you could erase from the calendar.
    A week you barely pick your pieces up and a week you can't help but cry and drown in your sorrows.

    But then you final realize...
    That all the days were equally hard.
    But this day was the day you let yourself feel every year because you can't keep it in anymore.
    It gets too heavy to bear all those feeling that make you wish you weren't alive.
    So you give yourself one day every year and allow yourself to feel, to let out all the frustration you've been carrying the entire year.

    That one day you let the malignant thoughts bury you alive in a deepest hole you can dig and feel the coldness of death as closest as possible.

    #life #death

    Read More

    This week is the hardest..
    They all are....

    ©gopika_singh

  • gopika_singh 47w

    #life #rain #desert #pain #acidrain #sad #mirakee #writersnetwork @mirakee @writersnetwork

    Imagine a barren and parched desert longing for a just a single drop of water. The cracks go so deep in the soil that no amount of rain will ever quench it's thirst. The air so dry that it could suck life up from a soul.
    And then the wait was finally over. It rained.
    As as the heavy raindrops cascaded upon the droughty land and moistens the soil and finally starts to satisfy the thirst of this desert... it realized that it's acid rain.
    Acid rain that will probably do more harm than good.
    But the thirst is so severe that it renders the desert incapable of rejecting the water.

    Have you ever had something like that in your life? Something that's so harmful that the walls you're made of start to bleed but a tragedy in your life has made it impossible to reject it because it quenches the thirst of your bleeding soul... Just like that of the desert.

    @gopika_singh

    Read More

    Acid rain

    ©gopika_singh