manisha_rameshbabu

An introvert trying to give my words little freedom ��

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  • manisha_rameshbabu 13w

    SAUSADE

    Happiness to me was a long lost fairy playing hide and seek in this mystique universe. Some times I would find her, the other times I would fake her.

    While sadness was this dark shadow who refused to leave me even in the dark. Trying to get rid of her, I let darkness engulf me. Though my eyes went kerflooey hit by dark, my other senses felt misery and meloncholy in the air.

    Spotting me strangled in the unlit castle, the tender hearted fairy would rose to fame out of nowhere and combat the darkness by casting a spell of luminous sparkles. Once darkness departs after losing the war, Ms.Sadness returns.

    I always wondered why the mighty fairy powerful enough to combat Ms.Darkness, never initiated a war with Ms.Sadness.

    Are they friends or foe?
    Is Ms.Happiness helping me or Ms.Sadness?
    Everytime I stepped out of darkness hoping the shadow has left, she slaughters my hope.

    Is it possible to be
    Happy and sad at the same time?
    Is it okay to feel
    Positive and negative at the same time?
    Can you feel two emotions at once?
    Can the flamboyant fairy and the dark shadow coexist?

    Maybe its okay at times to feel a rush of sadness coupled with paradoxical joy. Even the graceful fairy has her own shadow. Every dark shadow needs luminous spells to be visible in the dark.

    ©manisha_rameshbabu


    Hope it makes sense��
    @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #ofsadness #wod #pod

    sausade - a feeling both happy and sad
    kerflooey - to cease functioning

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    SAUSADE

    Is it possible to be
    Happy and sad at the same time?
    Is it okay to feel
    Positive and negative at the same time?
    Can you feel two emotions at once?
    Can the flamboyant fairy and the dark shadow coexist?


    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 13w

    DARK WAS THE STAIN OF HER POEM

    Dark was the stain of the blood
    Her shattered heart shed
    Sobbing in silence

    Dark was the stain of the hyperbole
    She sewed to fix the holes in her soul
    Massive enough to gulp the cosmos

    Dark was the stain of the paradox
    She penned to solace her spirit
    Craving to glide with her wings grounded

    Dark was the stain of the oxymoron
    She weaved when her intense emotions
    Numbed her nerves inside out

    Dark was the stain of the metaphors
    She carved to wreck her ship of sorrow
    In a sea of skinny papyrus

    Dark was the stain of the onomatopoeia
    She painted on the walls around her
    To hush the painful whoosh of her heart

    Dark was the stain of the synecdoche
    She sewed to heal a million scars
    In a battle against a heart

    Dark was the stain of the alliteration
    She scribbled to shine some sparks
    Soothing her stranded soul

    Dark was the stain of the poems
    She inked to suck up all her darkness
    And glue her broken heart

    ©manisha_rameshbabu


    @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #anaphora #wod #pod

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    DARK WAS THE STAIN OF HER POEM

    Dark was the stain of the blood
    Her shattered heart shed
    Sobbing in silence

    Dark was the stain of the poems
    She inked to suck up all her darkness
    And glue her broken heart

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 14w

    DEEPEST DESIRES



    My
    deepest
    desires are
    like stars scattered
    in the galaxy of my mind, some are huge
    enough to live a small life, some cast
    a spell of shining sparkles
    tugging my heart to
    grab them, while some
    go dark and evanescence
    when my eyes afford
    their glow


    ©manisha_rameshbabu


    @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #desire #wod #pod #concrete

    To scribble a concrete poem someday was one of my desires ����
    Thanks much for like and repost���� @writersnetwork

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    DEEPEST DESIRES

    My deepest desires are like stars
    scattered in the galaxy of my mind,
    some are huge enough to live a small life,
    some cast a spell of shining sparkles
    tugging my heart to grab them,
    while some go dark and evanescence
    when my eyes afford their glow

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 14w

    Of all the struggles
    I have faced in my life
    The hardest one
    Was to let go of some one

    I felt difficult to hate
    People who never bothered to irritate
    I kept loving them
    Inspite of fault being theirs
    I just want to keep the bond
    So I kept forgiving them beyond

    Everytime someone
    Broke my trust
    I tried not to combust
    And did adjust.

    Everytime someone
    Broke my heart
    I tried not to part
    And did restart

    Once, it crossed by threshold
    This time I tried not to withhold
    Now I have took off my blindfold
    And have learned to unfold.

    People who desire to stay, stay.
    People who desire to leave, leave.
    If they stay, treasure them.
    If they leave, let go of them.
    I have finally learned
    To let go of people.

    ©manisha_rameshbabu


    @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #life #wod #pod

    Thank you so much WN for ��

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    Once, it crossed by threshold
    This time I tried not to withhold
    Now I have took off my blindfold
    And have learned to unfold

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 14w

    MOST BEAUTIFUL PHOTO

    As the sunlit courtyard constricts her pupil
    She retreats into her lounge and witness
    An almanac next to a blurred doodle
    Glimpsing the date, she grows restless

    She strives to reach her cerebral attic
    Where remembrance and courage
    Once resided, but now they trick
    Her by playing as a camouflage

    She sends her synapses and nerve
    To find that one photo she tried to preserve
    The search party spread across her brain
    But return empty handed in vain

    Cursing herself for not able to think
    To judging if she misplaced every thing
    A million thought arrows fire in her
    Fuming ashes black and blur

    Tired, she lay down and close her eyes
    Her door bell rings and breaks silence
    The seventy-year old rushes knowing who it was
    It was a middle-aged man dressed in bronze

    His warm hug eased her to recall
    The most beautiful photo her retina captured
    Years back this day, on a winter fall
    The day he snuggled into her straight after birth

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

    @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #photo #wod #pod

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    MOST BEAUTIFUL PHOTO

    His warm hug eased her to recall
    The most beautiful photo her retina captured
    Years back this day, on a winter fall
    The day he snuggled into her straight after birth

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 14w

    He was walking away
    With headset over his ear
    Down the deserted pathway
    Relishing his solitude with no fear

    Those earphones white as snow
    Kept dancing to and fro
    Her heart also joined the sway
    In pace with his trace

    Each time the wire
    Clinging to the earbuds
    Oscillated lower and higher
    So did her heart

    She wasn't a melomaniac
    But melodies kept bumping
    In her without any radix

    And she wished
    She was those earphones
    Playing his favourite tones

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

    @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #walk #pod #wod

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    WALK

    He was walking away
    With headset over his ears
    Enjoying his own company

    But songs kept playing in her
    Without any source
    And she wished
    She was those hearphones
    Playing his favourite tones

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 14w

    GOODBYE

    Your
    Goodbye
    Inflamed
    A war
    In me
    Firing
    Arrows,
    A few
    Knock
    My heart,
    And few
    Knocked
    My heart.

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 35w

    Call me wind if you do please
    Calm me down with your breeze
    Let's seek those clouds playing hide and seek
    To mizzle magic that bleaches blues of midweek

    A part of me is holding back tears
    And another part in dark daunting sphere
    Revolving in an emotional orbit
    Again and again in phase with my heartbeat

    I breathe, wait and hope
    Clinging to the end of rope
    I see my fear greeting open arms
    Ms. Luck seems to have lost her charms

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 36w

    I am painting my nights with happy lies
    And ashes of burning anxiety, as my soul cries
    I immerse those bristles in colors of hope
    With my eyes closed and zero scope

    I sketch the world I wish to see
    I carve the girl I love to be
    But my impatient eye unlocks her lids
    Only to witness the canvas unfilled

    Is hope colorless or my eyes colorblind?

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

  • manisha_rameshbabu 41w

    On her 30th birthday, Ki woke up a little late before her even realizing it, she was standing next to the old closet in her room. She carefully opened it and pulled out a yellow diary. She smiled brightly flipping through the pages as it reminded her of a decade old memories fabricated by love.

    Until Ki met Joe at a concert, the melomaniac never perspected she would love someone surplus her music. Joe was a passionate photographer. Sometimes when his love for photography surpassed hers, jealousy befriended her.

    At times they would wage war over their difference of opinions but their warmth for fairytale tied them together. Other times they would enact along with the cast as their favourite disney movies played on the screen.

    As she rolled over the pages, a photograph rolled over the ceramic floor. That picture was photographed years back in the Disney land when their fondness for fairytale made them fly to California. She dressed with a floor length blue garment fitting her waistline like Cinderella in a ball gown waiting for her prince charming, rainbows painted her heart when he knelt before her. Those words still stir her soul.

    " I will be the imperfect me
    You will be the imperfect you
    We will be the imperfect us"

    She turned the photograph to find a four line fairytale of their love story he inked for her after winning his first word war but losing the love battle. They weren't married then.

    "Photophile prince pictured perpetual promise
    Built by beauteous bridge balanced by beleif
    Proferred present to philharmonic princess
    Beauty bewitched blooming a bride "

    Her reveries halted when Joe's mom came in with a bouquet of beautiful roses. She dressed herself in his favourite ball gown and knelt before his tomb offering the bouquet, summoning her tears to find the dead promise. Those words still stir her soul.

    ©manisha_rameshbabu

    @miraquill @writersnetwork
    #wod #pod #writingcontest #creativearena #tell #contest

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    Photophile prince pictured perpetual promise
    Built by beauteous bridge balanced by beleif
    Proferred present to philharmonic princess
    Beauty bewitched blooming a bride

    ©manisha_rameshbabu