Miraquill
My condolences to those who lost my trust out of their disrespect, immaturity and selfishness. Stay where you are at
©munazza
munazza
co-author of the book "Life tinctures"
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munazza
7w
Read More#newbeginning #pen #Pod #WritersofMirakee #love #Fighter #writer #MirakeeWorld #Writersunited #Poetry #magic #Nebula #wrotethosefeelings #heaven #hell #smile #Mirakee #Life #beautiful #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #thoughts #erotic #writing #feelings
#Beautiful #designs #eyes #galaxies #mystries #world #newyear @reposter24 #horizon #Loveyou -
munazza
17w
Where is my peace?
Imagine living in a phase of life when you no longer need to be scared of ghosts,
When stories of creepy werewolves and haunted house no longer makes you turn here and there in your bed.
When you are no longer nauseated after seeing those crimson dots of blood
Imagine when your body stop sending shivers down your spine after knowing another, bruised in purplish red, body was received from the garbage.
When haunted whispers in your mind no longer freeze your feet while going to washroom.
Imagine being fearless because you no longer fear death. When you are no more attracted to "happily ever after" but "the end".
Imagine this all because you have found peace in death and not life anymore.
©munazza -
Who is your friend?
Imagine you have a certain problem in your life which is making your nerves freeze or sometimes even explode because you feel completely lost and confused about what track to follow. Imagine you are completely nervous and seeking a chance to know the hidden reality and to find the chamber of secret behind that particular thing happening in your life. Well, you are full of curiosity and delusions about that but then you suddenly remember that you have a best friend who is none less than a ...... hero. However, there is something very unique and special about him which you already know but can't understand. It's his way of dealing with the problems. On this point, you are entirely clear that only he has the solution to your problem but thing is to just sit in the corner and wait for the right time. Imagine, you completely trust your friend that even you can trust him on your life as well and that he is the last and ultimate person who will bring out the best possible solution to your problem.
If you imagined all that in your mind till this point then close your eyes and try to see who is that friend in your life.
Think....
Think....
Think....
I am completely sure you see no one except Him, the Almighty, the Supreme. Yes, God is that friend of yours who will never ever let you down and who will take you to a bridge which is narrow like a thread and under which a blazing hot lava is erupting its rage to engulf the skin on your bones. You have no other option but to pass that bridge while holding the hand of your that friend. Will you do that?
If yes, then wipe your tears and entrust your life to Him and see that magic with your own eyes.
Why not? When He is the one who is creator of that bridge, that fire then how can you think that He will not make the path for you?
Remember, He is the creator of everything, you, the problem, the solution.
So keep your faith strong and hold the hand of your only Friend.
©munazza -
munazza
36w
Second chance
When life brings you to the same situation where you made wrong choice and then this time you chose a different option, that is when you have actually grown up and out grown all those spaces. The spaces where you were suffocated under the smoke of your wrong decisions. Second chance is a miracle in itself. If you get any, never dare to lose it without trying the side of the coin which you missed earlier.
©munazza -
munazza
49w
You are not a back up plan
you deserve the updated package
©munazza -
munazza
49w
You are not a back up plan
you deserve the updated package
©munazza -
Not India, Not US,
not Pakistan, not Africa,
not Kashmir, not Syria,
Not Saudi Arabia, not Palestine
The entire Earth is dying
Slowly, gradually
but
extremely painfully
©munazza -
munazza
59w
Even demons can't kill your SOUL
But People CAN
©munazza -
munazza
64w
Happiness is not found by searching or achieving that very thing, it is found by accepting what comes and what goes with a peaceful mind and sober heart because It is a by-product of a content heart. Happiness is not a destiny, it's a journey of submission to Allah's plans. Miracles will happen, you just have to be patient and believe in the process ☺️☺️
©munazza -
munazza
66w
The more I get to fall in and know other people's reality, the more I rise in your love.
O my magnificent beloved! You are an elixir of my mortal life♥️
©munazza
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heartsease
36w
Read MoreI love that word, tradition.
A bit archaic yet it settles
in the lower pocket of beliefs,
I've seen it escaping from
hourglass almost everyday,
but now it seems to fade
away like clouds after raining.
When the skies were bluer
we stitched confetti's on
empty walls and greetings
on the tip of our tongues,
we filled hungry stomachs
with spices and herbs like
rifles stuffed with guncottons.
When I saw time being naked,
the last time, it was Diwali
where dull hearts and pale skin
bloomed into scarlet and beige
shades, hope was a little brighter
while sorrows a little fainter, and
humanity screamed as a loudest
forever.
I love that word, tradition.
Which bring our hearts closer
like orchids, roses and lilies in
same fence,
but we are drifting apart in this
pandemic, till what remains is
our own selves.
~Purva
#traditions #lovewordc
@writersnetwork thank you so much ❤️
@miraquill thank you so much for the feature ❤️I love that word, tradition.
A bit archaic yet it settles
in the lower pocket of beliefs,
I've seen it escaping from
hourglass almost everyday,
but now it seems to fade
away like clouds after raining.
©Purva -
adamantquill
36w
Read MoreIn case some of you are confused about what this shape represents, it's nothing in specific. I just randomised a shape while writing about a lost soul wandering and seeking.
Otherwise, you are free to perceive it however you want. ��
Thank you @miraquill for the POD ��
I am not even really sure if I deserve this today, I saw so many beautiful concrete poems, mine is nothing infront of them.
Even though thank you so much for appreciating this ��
#concretepoetry #writersnetwork
#aquill_podAbstract pathway of a wandering soul.
I
inhabit
peaks that
have never seen
footprints in my poems.
I harvest sunflowers on the
frozen grounds under
the moonlight in
my metaphors
beguiling
the
cold in
my heart.
I adulate the
demons that live
rent free in my mind,
I am always aware what a
warrior soul I am from
inside. For every
scathe they
give,I bleed
poetry.
On
nights
of self hate
I let the stars
soothe my scars.
On days of self love
I prepare accolade muse
for the forthcoming
crestfallen cycle
that traces the
vicious recur.
I let the
clouds
pour
prisitine
teardrops that
soak the pages of
my sombre poems
to unleash the iridescent
rainbow on days my
smile fades away.
I visit the city
of ruins
to
write
and personify the
b
r
o
k
e
n
soul in me.....
while protecting the undamaged part.
©adamantquill -
thesunshineloves
70w
Read More// Again, if we begin? //
Again, if we begin,
to draw those skies towards the grounds,
to sweep off those dandelion fields with love
to connect the stars and,
sew them, to stay together forever,
would we reach the destiny?
/I killed 3 things tonight,
I killed 3 things tonight,
our sky, our dandelion field, our stars,
And I followed you to the graveyard./✿
Again, if we begin,
to hang the cherries onto the trees,
to ring the bells when someone prays,
to paint the pale wings of butterflies,
and sprinkle some stardust on them,
would we reach the destiny?
/I killed 3 things tonight,
I killed 3 things tonight,
our trees, our butterflies, our prayers,
And I followed you to the graveyard./✿
Again, if we begin,
to make the sour memories sweet,
the broken hearts meet,
the dead escape back to life and, greet,
the sombre summers of their lonely beloved,
would we reach the destiny?
/I killed 3 things tonight,
I killed 3 things tonight,
our memories, the broken hearts, our summers,
And I followed you to the graveyard.
to which, the heart has left,
leaving the soul behind./✿
Being the same person, some conflicts tend to be
never-ending.
//Again, if we begin,
✿ apart from the seashores, we sail ✿
✿ above the clouds, we fly ✿
✿ around the moon, we play ✿
✿ along the sun, we rise ✿
✿ at the horizons, we meet ✿
✿ adoring the beautiful deeds of ours ✿
✿ a heart and a soul live together in the same ✿//
©thesunshineloves
#escapec #pod #mirakee #writersnetwork #pleiadespoem
@writersnetwork����♥️♥️♥️♥️
#thesunshineloves_wn #sunshine_iuAgain, if we begin?
©thesunshineloves -
lady_midnight
70w
Read MoreA. G. O. N. Y.
Agony wraps me tight
As air leaves my lungs,
Another disappointment,
Another heartache,
Achilies heel love has become;
Abandoned verses fade
And oblivion feeds on lovers.
B. E. L. O. V. E. D
But somewhere far,
Blissfully unaware,
Basks a heart
Bright with love,
Beneath a willow;
Bounty with beauty, lies,
Beloved of mine.
C. E. L. E. B. R. A. T. I. O. N.
Champagne tales,
Cloudy days,
Caress the skies,
Crying over dandelions
Choked by the winds,
Carrying love letters
Creating new beginnings.
D. A. N. D. E. L. I. O. N.
Dandelion whispers,
Drenched in despair,
Drink drowning verses,
Discerning the skies and
Dampening hopeful hearts;
Dandelion o' dandelion
Don't lose my heart.
E. V. E.
East the wind carries, and
Evening calls birds to rest.
Erstwhile promises
Empty themselves,
Earning rumors from afar;
Enthralled, night gazes upon
Evanscent hearts.
F. A. I. R. Y. T. A. L. E.
Forevers echo
Fairytales, of lovers
Forgotten in time;
Farewell bids the heart,
Facaded by the dark when
Flickering love is mistaken,
For fireflies dancing like the stars.
G. R. E. Y.
Grey becomes the sky, and
Gone are seasons
Glazing with warmth,
Giggles turn to desperate sighs
Grazing wounds of past;
Gallant die tired,
Galloping over time.
H. O. M. E.
Hypnotised, I watch
Hallucinations of a heartache,
Hovering by the horizon.
He, my beloved,
Hibernates,
Hiding under the willow.
Home is near.
©lady_midnight
----- Thank you @writersnetwork and @mirakee❤-----
#writersnetwork #mirakee #pleiadespoem©lady_midnight
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thousand_splendid_thoughts
70w
Read More"Maa, are you listening? (please don't)"
So I daily wake up
and choose pain to wear over my skin.
There's a faded black t-shirt messily thrust between my other clothes. I am a little ardent in not letting it be thrown away so I argue with my mother.
Maa, if you are listening to me then I want to tell you that your daughter feels herself in that faded black t-shirt. She wants to keep this immortal thing close just like those poems, your '24/7 dedicated towards family' heart wouldn't understand. And your daughter wants you to never understand them either, I know if you do, you would feel all the pain on your heart, from the toe ring to the red in your hairline, in your every atom, you would be able to feel all the pain your daughter has been eating upon all these days.
Maa if you are listening to me (please don't)
I feel myself fading like that faded black t-shirt. I see myself daily spinning in the soapy water of a never-ending war, I slip and never get up. There's an experience, there's a mature understanding which flew and perched on my broken windows, the boy at my guitar class looks at the sky through the glass window and tells me that he loves the maturity I hold in my bones.
I walk back to home with 'maturity in my bones' and lay on my bed till the sky paints itself black. Maa, what do I do with all this maturity when it costed a life. A life, my life. I have round brown eyes to look at life with a mature way but I don't have a soul left to look at life in any way.
All this experience I hold in my hands is like peace after a war. I am bleeding, fresh wounds are still there, then how can I flex over this experience past situations left at my door.
Maa, the hair you oil daily, they still smell of war, they still smell of all the times I pulled harshly onto them when downfalls were biting on my skin. All this experience is similar to the dullness taking over my black t-shirt after all the washes it has gone through and maa I see you are in the mood to throw it away. You tell me that it doesn't look good on my skin now and I want to tell you that all this skin on me also doesn't look good on me now. I daily soak in the sun of the hope notes I write,
but maa I am fading away.
Can I keep this black t-shirt with me to remind me that all the faded isn't thrown away?
That though faded I am meant to exist.
Maa, are you listening (please don't).
©thousand_splendid_thoughts
@writersnetwork #writersnetwork
Thank you ❤ @writersnetwork
Thank you for all the beautiful comments, I am truly grateful ��.
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I have this feeling of missing you after every two minutes. Rest everything seems to be fading by the thoughts that breathe inside my chest. I feel the urge to call you mine everytime someone fails to hear the shrieks of mine. I once had a diary that contained some secrets. I used to be fragile and wrote about my emotions that didn't make sense to anyone. Your presence didn't mean a lot to me at that time. I was the person whose life wasn't based on how people offer everything they have to someone and the person on the other end should end up murdering their existence.
I didn't know when I gave up everything. My dreams were corroded and thought about whether they died on their own or someone buried them? I impatiently shuddered when things were falling apart but you walked in my life and I felt like it happened nothing. You carried something along with you that was more beautiful than sunrise or hues of saffron.
I talk less and belong nowhere in a group of friends but I desperately need your words. Your voice. Your adherence. Among all the proses I wrote, I read those that are dedicated to you. You stay on my mind even though I'm a vagabond who travels distances without actually feeling tired just to grow. You always wanted me to stay happy and I choose to be in pain and saved this happiness for you. ©chaotic_phrases -
Spinning the truth, wrapping it up with a pretty little bow
That's what you do to make yourself feel good
Or maybe to soften the blow
Do you feel better?
Knowing all the things you've done
Do you sleep well?
Meanwhile I've fought, fought for this life I've built for us
I made us a home, and you tore it down
Smashed it to a million pieces
Do you feel better?
Knowing how hard I tried
Do you sleep well?
Feel like I've been wandering forever and can't gain any ground
Love is supposed to comfort you, not knock you down.
I need to wake up
I will feel better
Knowing I don't need your hand at all
I will sleep peacefully
Knowing you're gone.
©thenameisnickorsomething -
my_tiny_chapter
70w
Read MoreThank you for the repost @writersnetwork
You made my day ��
Embracing The Demon
Every day,
I encounter,
the thought of our possible future.
I got caught up in the midst
of the combination
of our substances.
It seems,
Your sky was too cloudy
to hold my rainbow,
therefore in the midst of it all,
I lost a sense of myself.
Perhaps that was a code --
the world's way
of telling me,
I wasn't meant to stay.
It took me long
to bury
my much-cherished love.
Adamant to let go
"My no other than you."
As a consequences,
I have become frigid
to the sweet aromas
and aphrodisiac melodies.
Mirages clogged my mind,
my neurons frayed.
Long loneliness -
dissonance that resolves;
perceiving,
the tertiary refrain -
as exquisite verse.
and matchless liqueur.
Sublime gratuity
derived through
doors of surrender,
Upon a soft breeze
carries the whispers of my soul,
rustling my heartstrings
like wind through chimes
and into my bones --
Keeping at bay
the demons that lurk
and the ghosts that haunt.
It is here, in this space,
When I feel most at ease.
I am not quite awake,
Yet not quite in a dream,
Craving of how love could feel,
and how intimacy could heal.
I just wish I knew
how to tell you
that i am getting better
with your ghost...
But I guess,
Some words are better left unsaid.
Image found in Pinterest
and is credited to the rightful owner/artistEmbracing the Demon
I wish
you know,
that i am getting better
with your ghost...
©my_tiny_chapter -
awfully_quiet
70w
Read More"I can't save you. I can't save myself. I can't save us."
You think I trust you with saving me?
You think I trust you with saving yourself? Someone that I would die for?
You think I trust you with saving us? Something that I won't live without?
No, I don't..
I trust your hopes and I trust your prayers that I don't know how many times you say for yourself but I've hear you say them for me..
"I hope you're okay..
I don't have a doubt in you..
I want to see you thrive.."
There isn't much in this world that I can count on... but I know that if you are holding my hand and I'm holding yours..
We say nothing out of this crippling fear..we say nothing aloud..
And in these hearts that we know nothing about we ask for the same things..
"God..please don't let him leave my hand"
"Oh, please don't let her leave mine.."
So, I ask you to ask..
For all that you want..
Whatever that may be..
Countless things..
The impossible..ask for it..
I'll ask for the same.. with every breath..each and every breath that is left in me..
Hold on to it..
©awfully_quiet.
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maleficent_
72w
Read MoreI murdered the poet in me last night and buried it under all the poems I wrote for every soul I once loved . I no longer beseech happiness , or look for beauty in obvious flaws , instead , I let the harsh reality seep in my bones and fill my holes which I used to describe as artistic cracks .
All the paragraphs about red wine and coffee shops , warm kisses and freezing rains , Tibetan teacups and wind chimes , lilies and sunflowers , Polaroids and cigarettes , all of them , were supposed to make me feel beautifully sad . Instead , they kept reminding me that poems about muses are just a way of escaping the obvious and undeniable reality . Because evil is inevitable , and the artist under the skin just keeps trying to paint the world with imagination , as wild as it can .
Poets , these damned poets , us , we try to make blood and smoke look beautiful , and we try to picture the most absurd scenarios in our backyards , kitchen counters , balconies or bathroom tiles , and we somehow even succed , but just after the whiff of endorphin settles and the wave of thoughts and metaphors wash over , reality comes crashing back , just as we open the blinds and traffic noises come rushing , kids start screeching ,time just refuses to slow down and the days wreck havoc .
Painting the walls of our being with beautiful lies never help , but then , reality doesn't either . Maybe it's just better to let Mr Darcy and Heathcliff seep in our veins , and to cry with Elizabeth and Catherine as all the world dissolves around .
I regret murdering the poet in me , just the way I regret existing .
- Ruhii .
I like to contradict myself .
Happy Everything to Everyone !.
