Miraquill
[Perhaps]
A Goodbye
I will cherish the time
and memories here.
I’m lucky
that I’ve got an opportunity
to be here
with genuine readers like you.
It was a fantastic journey
with all of you @miraquill.
Thank you
Au Revoir
Best of luck, everyone.
©my_tiny_chapter
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my_tiny_chapter
38w
Read MoreHello luvs,
For some personal reason, I need to log out and sign in using new account, which can cause this account to be lost, as I wont be able to login using the same way anymore.
I have asked Team @miraquill to help me with retrieving this same account for me, but I am not quite sure if I can get this same account back, later in the future.
So just in case I can't and I don't see you again, I would want to say THANK YOU to all of you, for being so supportive, kind and loving -- to me as well as my verses.
I will cherish the time and memories here. I’m lucky and truly grateful for the opportunity to be here with all kind, loving and supportive genuine readers like you. It was truly a fantastic journey with pure souls here.
Thank you so much dearest. TILL WE MEET AGAIN ������
Best of luck, everyone.
Lots Love and Lights for all of you
������
Au Revoir
PS :
If you would like to still read me in the future, perhaps you could search for me
@jojos_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
39w
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@luvnotes_challenge_host
#cees_doors
Homeless
( The closed door )
In a world where home is
neither a place nor destination;
but a feeling that i have
when i’m with you,
I’m lost!
Lost in the static
of your otherworldly phase.
Here,
I’m merely the subject
of your change,
floating through your cosmic haze.
Dispersed, in opposite directions.
Every rhythm is so uncertain.
In this temporary blindness,
everything is blue.
Searching for security and comfort,
I find myself
in front of the reason for my sadness,
in front of a stranger's house
that once felt like home.
Sure, ignorance causes
some doors of the heart
to close where love does play.
However,
the memories and emotions
we leave in those places
are the fragrant lilies and roses
stained with our tears
that we dropped at the grave site,
Allowing ourselves
to overcome the sting
of losing someone forever.
I looked back on everything,
back to where we started,
back to where we ended.
I try to be strong
but I don't have a clue.
My heart stands witness
to every lie you told,
Yet it is I
who loved for real
that is left
to feel the frigid cold,
Untill now there is nothing left.
I guess,
It’s too late to save...
Breathing the stale musty air,
I lay still and alone,
Locking the door of my heart -
Not letting
anyone to come in,
nor willing to even see
million of other open doors
or try to explore.
Lost, in those simple moments
we lived out joyfuly together,
which are now a beautiful tragic end.
Never understanding,
How can I feel
the extreme pain of loss
and deepest darkest despair,
from something
that reality affirms
was never mutually there?
I must have deluded God and myself
into a dream,
With every mindless prayer,
and so many silent secrets scream.
Forgetting what the wise once said,
" If the door is closed,
Realize,
it's not your Home!"
I can't believe this �� @writersnetwork thank you so much for the kind repost. ������
Aaaaaaaaaaa.....
#screaminghappily#
Huuuuugggss ��Homeless
( The Closed Door )
I must have
deluded God
and myself
into a dream,
With every mindless prayer,
and so many
silent secrets scream.
Forgetting
what the wise once said,
" If the door is closed,
Realize,
it's not your Home!"
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
39w
Read More
@miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay
#anaphora
#madnessc #wod
Obscured Passion
(Edited)
He walks like a dream
at night.
veiled, young and shy.
Alluring, intoxicating,
fulfilling and emptying,
all at the same time.
But, so quickly,
He vanished like the wind
that blows white dandelions
in the air.
In front of me,
my love is flaunted.
I realize
that I never really mattered.
I know
I'm supposed to depend
on myself only,
but how can I do that
when I feel whole
when I'm with him?
This long,
I shipped a thousand feelings,
only to watch them sink.
There is no rain to chase.
There is no time to be retained
There is no gaining back
what's gone.
Therefore,
I pass my way into dreamland
A train down memory lane
A nice comfy padded room
For the bits that went insane.
Those dreams
still revolve around him
and my stomach
feels like cherry stems
tied loosely together,
and even though
the words that leave my lips
scream no, not anymore,
the empty feeling in my heart
feels like a snared drum
of contradiction.
In silence I loved him,
yet lost him.
In silence
I've longed for his hand,
And met emptiness.
In silence
I fell,
And heard my own heart breaking.
In silence,
He swayed my heart
and danced with it -
only to see it fall.
The face of disappointment
strikes straight through my heart
it takes away my energy
and tore my hope apart
Now, I can’t seem to find
a bandage big enough
to heal the hole
he left in my dying heart.
Subconsciously
memories are fading,
But there's nothing I can do,
because
The damage has been done,
And What's gone, is gone.
Things will never be the same again.
Expecting miracle is useless
in this messed up madness.
Since, nothing will fix
this once upon a time fairytale.
This devotion
will only be remembered
as a romance with
no happily ever after -
The one I pen down
as eulogy ~
a scribbled journal,
a prescription for madness
I paraded around as love,
Where the dreams unfulfilled
Vanished without warning
Soaking my heart
in distrust and mourning
Creating in the center of my mind
an emptiness so still.
However,
I may wake up tomorrow
to realise it was just a nightmare,
As I plunged
in the sea of madness...Obscured Passion
Give me
a little scrap of paper
to pen down my eulogy ~
a scribbled journal,
a prescription for madness
I paraded around as love.
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
40w
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@miraquill @writersnetwork
#anaphora #wod
#41
To him
with whom I learned
love's greatest responsibility :
to keep another's heart safe.
I want to know that I am valid.
No need to sing me a ballad,
Just tell me what I already know.
No need to wrap it in a bow,
Just be very avid
about the fact that I am valid.
Acknowledge
the power of my feelings.
Hug me and tell me
that you want me
as much as I want you.
Hug me and tell me
how much i am important
Hug me and tell me
how much you love me.
Yes,
at times,
I had these grand expectations
of you and those around me.
And my insecurity
demands that you capitulate
Alas!
Disappointment runs
through my veins,
as this love leaves only stains,
When one become
more self preserved
towards themselves,
and with her
you choose to walk.
That’s when
I found my heart
drawn around in chalk.
It's human nature
as I have learned,
Our selfishness
makes us monsters.
Ergo, those we care for most,
who claim
they feel the same in return
ends up hurting us
with words, actions, and decisions.
Perhaps thats the reason,
No one will ever understand
how important the moon is
in the night sky.
I lost it all in one night.
Hence,
Since time of Rome and Babylon,
"Forever" was something
humans thought they had.
Peacefully,
I walk on this unique path.
I feel,
I might not be able
to conjure the same devotion anymore
as the image of love
has finally muddied and spoiled,
However,
with my zombie vibes
and very short random talk
discussion about “stars”
and the atmosphere,
I still wish the best for you.
Truly, Im happy
to see you happy.
I learned,
It is not the wound we inflict
that matters
But if we choose
to run or stay to help it heal.
I learned,
love's greatest responsibility
to keep another's heart safe.
Well, who knows
Maybe,
just maybe
One day,
you might miss this girl
that didn't demand anything from you
but your time and attention...#41
( sour expectation/s/ )
Hug me and tell me,
how much you love me.
Hug me and tell me,
that you want me -
as much as I want you.
Hug me and tell me,
how much i am important.
No need to sing me a ballad,
No need to wrap it in a bow,
Just be very avid
about the fact
that I am valid.
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
40w
As long as
you are happy
it keeps my heart
at peace.
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
40w
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@writersbay
#augustc
To the one
whose name is etched out
every time my pen
kisses the paper
in a brief love affair.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Mood is upbeat here.
Resting the restlessness
in the domain of His Highness.
A year filled with heartbreak,
love, friendship, and
life changing lessons.
Perhaps it was a year
where something
truly amazing happened.
I count my blessings
that I have been gifted
this moment,
for one never knows
how many lie around the corner.
Entrapped by colourful balloons,
but certainly not grounded.
I look forward,
in pleasure;
in fear;
nonetheless in hope.
Passing years
have narrowed the space
between my world and yours,
Yet,
Love reminds me
that sometimes
the best things in life
are the ones
that hurt the most to lose.
However,
I would not trade
a moment’s loving him
for an ounce less pain.
So today on his birthday,
I decide
to take a second
to shed a tear of goodbye
and raise a glass,
Hoping that
a new love embraces him
and shows him the way
to a better love -- better life.
May he finds serendipity
of stumbling upon people
made of sunrays and stardust,
to forever bask in their glow.
Meanwhile,
from afar
my love and prayers
shall always flow
to shield and grace him.
Happy birthday
my darkest desire -
the sweetest temptation
of my life!
There's a thousand
and more candles
for you to blow...
.
May you prosper and
Your investment be fruitful.
����������Happy Birthday
I keep dreaming of
The idea of love,
endlessly seeking.
But it's falsehoods that breed it.
No wonder it's fleeting.
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
41w
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@miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay
#start #wod #yetc
Hourglass in Motion
One day if everything stops,
memories window smiles at the past.
Full of pictures in sepia -
a retrospective of events
which were long buried.
Yet, over time,
we will be reminded again
That the more we look back
the less life lasts.
Days are getting shorter.
Hours into minutes
into seconds,
squished together
like nesting dolls
until they are lost to infinity.
Who owns
these finite moments
immersed in the infinite?
Inhaling and exhaling
the fumes around the clock,
a perception of beauty --
a spiritual sense of blissful growth
lost over a cosmic delight.
Perhaps
we all forgot,
Time was not made for clocks
but clocks for time,
and there's no turning back!
So,
before it is too late,
and regrets come to greet,
take enough time
to appreciate
the power of a kiss, a hug,
and even a mild, kind touch.
Or simply
take life a little lighter
and laugh a bit lauder,
Before all is swept
into the union of the ocean,
and the count forever
lost what is tardy.
Believe me!
It's hard to make memories
Yet harder
to make them last.
Days roll by
like clouds in the sky
Slaves to the wind
as they flutter and fly
Driven past by the hand of time
Through the midnight hour
when all bells chime.
Here the searching
for reoccurrence
serves the end.
Chronology now,
is kept
by the pendulous sway
of planets.
Only the soul
returns to naught,
in perpetual rest,
forever in motion....Hourglass in Motion
One day
if everything stops,
memories
window smiles
at the past.
Full of pictures
in sepia.
Yet,
over the time,
we will be
reminded again
That
the more we look back
the less life lasts.
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
41w
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@miraquill @writersnetwork
#love #wod
Words used : twilight, rose, coffee, fragrance, eyes, pink, lavender, waves and shore.
Thank you so so much @writersnetwork for another repost. I am flattered. Yipppiiieee....������
Saranghae
He is my routine, my schedule,
the ballet-slipper pink ribbon
laced into my life.
His lingering scent,
balsam or
addictive cold brew coffee,
wafting through
my heart's bustling café.
A mess of indistinguishable shades
of lavender that hum melodies
of both obsession and safety.
In this entrapment,
my body sing and rise
to its newness.
Twilight is turning bright
with vibrancy ahead,
where sunlight dances
through the trees
and summer sings
on warmer breeze
as sweetened fragrance
softly fills the air.
Believe me!
Love has never felt
so gentle and so fervent
yet so deadly.
So darlin'
Consume me
before I'm just a memory.
Smother me,
but don't stand at my grave
with tears of regret in your eyes
and roses in your hand.
Promise me the promise you'd keep,
like those promises of waves
in their constant love for the shores.
Big tides or smaller tides --
Big ebbs or smaller ebbs,
they somehow always end up being momentarily together.
Persistent in reaching
to meet each other
even when the sands won't allow it.
You too, darlin'
Incline to me,
land on my shore,
and dissolve in me
into tiny molecules.
Make me too your HOME,
for what you did to me
cannot be undone...Saranghae
He is
the ballet-slipper pink ribbon
laced into my life.
An addictive cold brew coffee,
wafting through
my heart's bustling café.
A mess
of indistinguishable shades
of lavender
that hum melodies
of both obsession
and safety.
A love that felt
so gentle
and so fervent
yet so deadly...
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
41w
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@miraquill @writersnetwork
#colors
#wod
- Campari Dreams -
Autumn like winds
begin to chill.
Little frosty--
bitter breezes blow,
night lights flicker
beyond
the fallen trees.
Sleep calls from a distance
I turn on a bed
of yesterday's sapphire tears
and tomorrow's amber dreams.
I contemplate the mystery
while my surroundings
fade to murky clouds.
When light of love
has so much to give
We just stood there
and watched
How seared ego
and pearly secrets
killed us all
for we do not know
how to cherish it.
Perhaps it would
have been better
to let go
whilst we were still whole -
to lose something
beautiful and cherished,
than to break piece by piece
and watch what we had
turn sour in our hands.
Yet,
Like the chalk house crumbles,
words evolve
into raspy whispers.
Damage has been done,
Marks are on the wall,
as demons claw.
The night
cheered in manipulation.
Providing secrecy
Not security.
And so the devil hastened,
Refusing to open
the rosy door of understanding
As the lover's thoughts
scattered in a volcano
of hot anger,
scattered in lavender shades.
Rusted metal promises
hold no more than debris.
.
And that's all
that we'll ever be...
- A thought -
Not even destined
to be buried
beneath the same dirt.
.
If only,
there were scales
to measure
the pain of tangerine hearts
that were broken
in such leisure....Campari Dreams
Sweet, is
when you smile to me.
Spicy, is the reason
why I look forward.
toward tomorrow.
Sour, it's the taste
of waiting for you.
Bitter, you left me
rotten and lost.
©my_tiny_chapter -
my_tiny_chapter
41w
Read More
I am wide awake,
wrapped in hushed darkness,
numbness falls over me;
Blank heart --
blank life.
I' ve been waking up
to desaturation all my life.
Rolling symphonies
of stained black river
Seeping into my palms
Drip down my hands
Smear my fingerprints
With traces of him.
Upon the weak willow trees
Fallen leaves
attract my soul,
Eraser heads
deleting cacophonies,
No harmonic state
could cause a brawl.
Lonely,
looks a lot like
a harvested cotton field.
And if you inhale the air
as you drive by,
you'd know exactly
how to describe
the smell of neglect.
I was fighting
for a love that probably
never really belong to me.
Staring into gaunt, vacant eyes
everything was valueless,
all collectively disconnected
as I ended our connection
by smothering it in light.
I am trying less to know him
and more to know why.
Funny how easy
Love appears to be,
until
It laughs with the other easily
Reconcilable "maybes"
That devalue our first "hello".
Longer was never long enough,
Half-truths
turned into calamities
forgotten on the shelf.
I wonder,
why the coldness
surrounding me remains
and constantly inviting me to play?
I wish soon that
every single little muscle
in my body
would stop aching for him,
would stop aching
for his touch,
or love, or affection
in any way possible.
Because the way
tires leave blisters
on the skin of the road
when they leave too quickly,
is the same way
goodbyes scrape my arms.
However,
"Thank you!"
My times were great
until we parted.
I just pray
I left him better than
when we started.
I also hope
she’s the most beautiful thing
in his new universe.
But more than anything
I hope that he is
the most beautiful thing in hers
as he was always
the most beautiful thing in mine.
Even when I am not in his.
Meanwhile,
by and by
I shall flush him out
Until the only thing left
of him,
of us
are the tears in my eyes
and the acid in my throat
which with time too
will fade into the dust
he left me in.Transient Blow
When the day comes to an end,
It remind
things in this world are transient.
©my_tiny_chapter
-
fromwitchpen
39w
Read MoreCOOKERY OF POESY
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
••••••••••••••••••
FoR HyGIeNE
•••••••••••••••••••
Clip some butterflies on the ropes of imagination and use cabalistic ink with purely plucked peafowl feathers carve them into a quill. Lave your hands with scintillating stars and apt verities.
InGrEdiEntS
-------------------
2 anklets of aestheticism
A bag of bygone books
chillies of carpe diem
dusty dolour
blushing espies on ether
few flowery flames
gust of gale
a hopeful hiraeth
Infinite irises of ink
jumbled words
knitted kites of alphabets
luminance of luna
minty metaphors
nightmares marinated with nightfall
oozes of oxymorons
pallette of p(a)ep(p)er
a querying bowl
ruined roses and rains
sounded syllables
tray of tinctures
u from packet of vowels
vamoosed silhouettes
woolen whispers
x as comma
yellow (you)niverse
zigzag heartbeats
PrOceDUre
************
Take a basket of Infinite irises of ink dip a pallette of p(a)e(p)per in it.
Preheat a querying bowl add vamoosed silhouettes, woolen whispers, zigzag heartbeats, dusty dolour and chillies of carpe diem under the luminance of luna .
Put that bowl on few flowery flames stir the mixture with x as comma and turn off the flame by the dash of yellow (you)niverse.
Plate this out in the tray of tinctures take 'u' from packet of vowels to garnish it with silver vark from sounded syllables.
IciNg
---------
For icing use a soft silk sheet wreath it with dusty dolour, oozes of oxymorons, ruined roses and rains, a hopeful hiraeth, gust of gale and two anklets of aestheticism keep mixing it without lumps.
Free the knitted kites of alphabets while blushing and espying at ether wear a smile and decorate your poetry with jumbled words place it into a bag of bygone books after sprinkling minty metaphors on it.
Tips
-------
(You can bedeck your poetries with pain or phantasm)
(You can add humour or science while preheating the bowl)
(You can use moonlight in place of silver vark)
_________________________________
#recipe
#atozwitchPoetry dates back to caveman
and the earliest shamans later
invented by the Sumerians to
picturesque their stories of
life in the form of epic
poetry. The father of
poetry is Geoffrey
Chaucer
(A bowl of poesy)
©fromwitchpen -
love_whispererr
39w
Near the potato eaters of van Gogh
Near the potato eaters of van Gogh,
I met a relapsing poet
wearing bright corsage
and faint-colored skirt
and holding nosegays of lilies,
lavenders and lilacs ;
trying to find metaphors
behind those tired faces
seeking for syllables
to infuse them inside her sonnets
the hanging chandelier
was crackling inside the colors
and the tinctures of tropes
were capering and humming
on the dark corsage of potato eaters.
I was pondering near
her running barefoot but
she was silent and calm
like she was withering alone
unable to quell her ingathered
agonies and torments
but those vintage potato eaters
were still soundless
in search of some forgotten
skies and sunshines
in search of some vagrant
nights and naked katydids
in search of some withered
sunsets and yesteryears
she was hiding behind the lights
and compositions of five eaters
and I, again ween, to melt
inside her citadel's sonnets
again and again, a little more.
~bidya -
fromwitchpen
40w
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*The first belly dancers were a group of traveling dancers known as the ghawazee.
*Salah Jahin was known as ‘the poet of the revolution’ as a lot of his work was greatly inspired by the 1952 Egyptian revolution.
__________________________________
The Ghawazee
(Belly Dancers)
A hindrance to dancing silhouettes
A hindrance to rustling zephyr
A hindrance to ballet and ballerina
A hindrance to soaring poetries
Banished they wore sandals forlorn
Banished they flamed the woebegone
Banished they cut spaces and stories
Banished they halted blazing culpability
Clandestine cocoon on their belly skin
Clandestine cocoon to carve carcasses
Clandestine cocoon for giddy moves
Clandestine cocoon as for later consequences
Dancing in cups to brew the culture
Dancing in clouds to optimize the sky
Dancing in canvases to suspire sunrises
Dancing in deserts with warm breeze
Egypt sways with brooks of books
Egypt sways with Jahin's poetic revolution
Egypt sways with Great Sphinx Of Ghiza
Egypt sways with dash moves of belly dancers
Flip the pages when dance was God
Flip the pages when quick belly motion crowned
Flip the pages when this art was worshipped
Flip the pages when thin body wasn't needed
Ghazals gurgles the silence of solace
Ghazals gurgles that moving demeanor
Ghazals gurgles beleaguered to haiku-hours
Ghazals gurgles when belly's devour the beats
Healing prowess some tied with songs
Healing prowess some gulped through clowns
Healing prowess some find in temples
Healing prowess some whirl through capering
Inked the destinies in the bottled promises
Inked the dreams on the wings of butterflies
Inked the destruction at the 3:00 am tick
Inked the despondency in their oscillation
Juxtaposition of rainbows and phantasm
Juxtaposition of ghunghroos and gajray
Juxtaposition of pleasure and passion
Juxtaposition of sashay and allemande
Knightly stars when weave dark constellations
Knightly stars when shone with chimera
Knightly stars when beautified poetries
Knightly stars when whirls in moonbeams
Looting nuances to dug the puddled abodes
Looting nuances to catch sparrows and fireflies
Looting nuances to stitch yellow daffodils
Looting nuances to learn the art of twirling
Manoeuvring on vertiginous wine-fields
Manoeuvring on stages of alchemy
Manoeuvring betwixt chapters of history
Manoeuvring at the glimpse of poets
Nosepins meandering with rosy l(h)ips
Nosepins meandering with balladry of hair
Nosepins meandering with twitches of stomach
Nosepins meandering with circling feet
Oasis their orbs carry two sunsets of cadavers
Oasis their palms to say adieu to autumn
Oasis their shadows complimenting blackness
Oasis their ringlets moving with permanence
Pulchritude gypsies dabbling bizarre fables
Pulchritude gypsies cursing the backasswards
Pulchritude gypsies trembling with symphonies
Pulchritude gypsies dancing in The River Nile
Quadruplet to couplet their sways concoct
Quadruplet to prose their journey bedeck
Quadruplet to sonnets their tears envelopes
Quadruplet to limericks their soul sails
Rollicking through the crest and trough
Rollicking through the stygian eclipse
Rollicking through vague allegories
Rollicking through ballrooms and kingship
Songs are upbeat to rock and royals
Songs are brimming life, death and glee
Songs are susurrating on broken lyrics
Songs are radiating beauty in their sculpture
Twinkling anecdotes pirouetting with verses
Twinkling anecdotes painting out treasures of sea
Twinkling anecdotes gulping the Titanic screams
Twinkling anecdotes highlighting their physique
Utopia till Mughal's Mahal stole the galaxies
Utopia till Martin was chasing fireflies
Utopia till Van Gogh captured the starry night
Utopia till The Ghawazee were quilling tactics
Voyages to engulf the shawl of summer
Voyages to understand every motion
Voyages to feel magic and dance in nature
Voyages to learn the hidden staircase of passion
Waists underpin with woes and euphoria
Waists underpin to frozen moon and glamorous sun
Waists underpin with winks and cheers
Waists underpin with eddy and billowing cadence
Xibelani dance hit the right strings of heart
Xibelani dance engrossed the crying garth
Xibelani dance for cavorting on horizon
Xibelani dance portraying sand and swings
Yesteryears chewing the flow of chorus
Yesteryears burling the crisp creases
Yesteryears to birl the body like combers
Yesteryears cascading aurora of gyrating
Zilch one cleave in arduous streams
Zilch one clad in vivid imageries
Zilch one feel to endure the void
Zilch they rotate with blooming belly .
#anaphora
#atozwitch"If I have to use an
anaphora to describe you,
I'll summon dwarf of death
to cage your sway
In the tapestry of urnfield"
~Egypt's cacophony to
The Ghawazee.
©fromwitchpen -
fromwitchpen
39w
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N̶o̶t̶ E V E R Y P O E T
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Heartbreaks, wretchedness
stygian tacenda
calamitous past
pain or death
ain't the paintbrush
of a poet's canvas
F D
o a
r r
l k
o n
r e
n s s
can't elucidate a poet
Lovelorn but brusque
words as weapon,
writing a beautiful future
abutting the silver lining
using their quill to
strive for the change
D V
o e
u r
g i
h s
t t i
y c
cause poets are
P rofoundly
O ptimistic
E nlightening
T haumaturges
_________________________
#perspective v_v
Ok , I'm going to sleep now again X_X
@writersnetwork why do you always like those poems of mine which I hate the most ? '-' I adore you ❤️
Much love to everyone :-*Not every poet
propound autumn
as heartbreak
some poets compliment
autumn as
the ballerina dancing
with dead blossoms .
©fromwitchpen -
fromwitchpen
39w
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@mrkhan56 I adore you *-* HBD . Stay blessed and happy always (✿ ♡‿♡)
#atozwitchPoetry was a poet
When poetry was a poet
canoodling creases of
cornflowers cascading a
cloth caked-up with the
cradles of calligraphers
P
O
E
T
R
Y
ambled to
beleaguered
crossroads
draping the
ether with
floral garth
hiraeth in
ice-houses
and jars of
kafka kites
luminance
to metaphors
when nightfalls
omnipresent
plucking
primroses
to quieten
the roaring
rainbows
scintillating
a terra of
ubiquitous
umbrellas
and vintage
words to
xenia to
yearn the
zappai of
zing and
zestful
(aura of
the muses)
~Poetry was a poet when he quilled Wordsworth's pantheism with Ghalib's Ghazals.
©fromwitchpen -
amsterdam
40w
Read MoreWho am I?
Isn't a question but a trademark
Of my anonymity,
A blurred birthmark embroidered on a leaf,
A whirlpool at the bottom of a quiet lake,
A Stockholm syndrome on a sunny day
I often forget I am a flower of fortune,
The polka dots on my face
Are shadows of the moon,
Tonight, I fiddle with flying death wishes
And smoke silver linings
While watching nightmares
Crumble into grains and dust
In a room full of light,
I bloom like a rose
Kissed and seduced
By the golden hour,
Days roll and melt on my tongue
Like ice cubes and dice,
Moments sprout and fall off from calendars
In slow motion
Until everything fits perfectly into place,
Giving extra room
For my pregnant thoughts
To give birth to velvety happy endings
On empty pages
When a blood moon arrives.
������������������
08.21.21
#activity #unique_chall #ceesreposts
@writersnetwork tysm! ��Polka Dots
-
kosachaya
40w
Read MoreDeceiving reality seem to be an absurd object.
Rejecting the enthusiasm to wilt.
Where nothingness maunder around.
Questioning unwarranted turmoil..
With hope to thrive from dwindling hole.
©kosachaya
- S Gayathri Vijayaragavan
#autobiography #wod
Thanks @writersnetwork for the kind repost ❤️
Thanks @miraquill for POD❤️
You made my day 🌟🌟Deceiving Reality
Prolonged emptiness
drenched the solitude to hide
in oblivion memories.
Encroaching the winding
of an unwind stances, where pivotal fiascos
sulk the wandering soul.
Withering life to lifeless voids.
Sizzling hues of tears to squall
the desirability.
Where oblivion pages
question vary existence.
Enumerating words to
revoke the sangfroid susceptible nuances.
Quivering emptiness of purpose
to ikigai the longevity.
Weaving intruding dilemma to
extrude meraki of time.
Contemplating death note of
past to come alive.
Blooming the prosperity
of hope to dive.
With every retrospective verses,
concluding introspective vision.
Coagulating souls roar with sore cruelty.
Though it may sound bizzare.
Delineating hymn of anonymity
with amusing solidarity.
Narrating the charismatic fable of freedom.
Whenever soul quills wabi - sabi
autobiography of deceiving reality.
©kosachaya
- S Gayathri Vijayaragavan -
ak_anjali_daydreamzz
40w
Read More#city #ak_city #ak_wn_repost
All Rights Reserved
19 Aug 2021 12.30 pm
I love cities, even ifthey make me feel I don't belong there~
Last for a long while ~ bye bye ⭐
Thank you so much for Repost ���� @writersnetwork and for Everything ����~ City ~
My mute muffles vaporised among crowds
While his symphony echoed in the city lights
More scars and few stitches play hide and seek
And fingerprints drown amidst chaos of free verse
I'm the only rhyming couplet of a failed sonnet
He stomped through cigarettes and epistles
My haiku long forgotten, under the carpet of night
Sombre syllables mourning in August rain
He lives in sincity, my simplicity cannot match
Someday when sun hides behind grey heartaches
I'll remember dim city lights and blue ballads
Someday when rain shatters itself on mountain slopes
I'll be reminded of the fountains that lure fortunes
Someday when I hear guitar notes that choke on desires
I'll remember the ballrooms and waltz in poetry
Someday when memory mist poison the daisies
I'll remember the tears I sold for solitude under skyscrapers
// Someday when cities snoozes in hazy dreams
The alarm of my poetry will awaken new dawns //
©ak_anjali_daydreamzz -
murryben
40w
Read MoreMy anxiety sits in the corner of
my dystopian heart. I am snow and
dirt glistening morosely on mud and
straw. I'd like to break a wall or two,
this glass beauty that separates us
and see if I spurt blood that puts to
shame this fiery sun and come back
anew in water and dirt like earth.
Help me breathe!
There's a transparent ocean inside
your eyes and a poet can, but only
pen lyrical ballads in your favour that
puts the envious Gods to unadulterated
rage. But I am no poet and I see corpses
your ocean eye houses. Sepulchres,
fawning eyes never see, and I wonder,
I wonder if this mortal agony will last
till the peals of the final trumps.
I have never known the address of
Happy Endings because Love held
me hostage once. I know I paid a
Kingdom's ransom, most times in
salty tears and so you will find me
on tiptoes now, waltzing to Hozier on
a fine Sunday evening by the seaside
alone and you can watch me collapse,
collapse into infinite nothings.
©Meri Murry
17.08.2021
PS: ah, eccentricity��
#start #podben #benecc
@/writersnetwork : You made my day with your comment �� thank youuuuu. I adore you ♥️
Thank you for the lovely repost too.
@miraquill this actually feels surreal. Never thought I'll get another pod. Thank you!
Edit: inspired by an interview I read about the moon. Thank you all. I don't even know if I deserve this ♥️A Winter's Medley
-
ckfilvan
40w
Read More#aslongas #ceesreposts #soulraabta 0211608 #wod @miraquill
On a blank page I now spill my secrets,
In secret I roll and smoke 'em as cigarettes;
That which I draw from the very well of grief
Has given readers and lovers a sweet relief.
©ckfilvan
Dedicated to @rumanrulesneverend
Wish you were here @the_story_weed
Af first I thought the challenge was somewhat shallow;
Now I wish this little poem to be rid of invisibility.
If only this secret is heard and read!!
If you love pretty poems, my poems are not yours to read. You can skip it.Smoking secrets
As long as they lie safely hidden,
Sweet and yet wickedly annoying,
They'll always remain a burden
Like a pot of water simmering.
I can't confide even to my shadow
For even it is the very image of me;
You can't trust your heart, you know,
As sure as the rivers reach the sea.
I weep, a friend comes to console me,
Tell her how for a soup I sold my soul;
Like a virgin I lie bare on a mountain lee
To be butchered in pieces from the whole.
On disowned pages I now spill my secrets,
In secret I roll and smoke 'em as cigarettes;
That which I draw from the very well of grief
Has given readers and lovers a sweet relief.
As long as they lie coffined in your breast
Never trust your heart to set them free;
These mischievous things are never at rest
As sure as the rivers reach the sea.
©ckfilvan
