Why do I keep chasing the bone?
There was this little mountain So plainNo place to hide and seek You could live with a top view Could enjoy your time of peakBut then there was this little rabbit So in pain Waited to get hurt and be tricked.Ate the grass always in fearAs if the mountain was evil and even slick. @therapisttales
The longest time I had traveledWas the night you rideAnd I had lingered in this chaosFor any one that gives a dime For one more fight©therapisttales
#balance #yinyang #seesaw
Games are in the midst ofJumping and bowingFights; getting hurt and hurtingIs it breaking up with your friend out of envyOr getting along with your enemy?Maybe you want to taste the seesaw danger.Nothing holds you stranger. Do you have the strengthTo find yourself in the clouds?But you are your own reverse,Don’t sew any rips in vainIt's all you, better or worse. ©therapisttales
#limits #goals #expectations
I don't want my freedom to turn into exhaustionLike a bird that has died from overeatingPushing my stomach to the fullestHaving too much cargo to flyYet I don't forget my sisters in cagesWho are born with broken wingsIt is important to set meaningful limits.Either with a square or a triangleBuilding doorways in verticesHiding all my secrets.Hiding from both eternity and captivity:I don’t go round in circles.©therapisttales
Are stars vertices to doorways?
Reading dozens of poems under the same title. Reminds me of 1984. Taking orders, turning corners.
#deathanddying #miss #wod
The sea is beautiful by the shore,The sand, when the waves gently hit.We together have created a muddy pit.Here, you cannot be “me” as much as you want,And I cannot turn back to the ground.If we want to get out, the sands we hold on will fall out.If we pretend to be dead, the water will call out.Do you think it's a coincidence for us to meet in the same drip? Everybody one day will come to terms with the dough they are made ofWhen they take of the dress of innocence,Adam, Eve and the rib.©therapisttales
raindrops are like the footsteps of nothingness©therapisttales
I wrote a fairy tale The life erased it I was not bewildered,Did what I did beforeI wrote a fairy taleNo one believed it. I read it to myself though It was kind of wicked.I love writing a fairy tale Every now and then It might sound non-existentBut it is never too distant.©therapisttales
Asking everyone that who they are in soothWhat about telling yourself the truth? ©therapisttales
My poetry is sickof her absence.Tell her to giveme some signs.So that I can givemeaning to dyingmetaphor....©his_aesthetic_ink
"Draw a monster. Why is it a monster?"- Daughter by Janice Lee @writersnetwork #pod#wnlr
At eight,I would have drawn a man with huge knivescutting off limbs of another,ripping his heart out,while blood runs down his eyes,but soon I knew,there are graves still grieving,and that,in the stills of a painting,everyone can be a monster,given the wretched thirstfor venegance that turns even the purest hearts crooked. Two swords in a scabbard?There's bound to be a bloodshed. At fifteen,I would have drawn,a gnarled, enchanting castle, drowning in finest of luxuries, with it's masters and mistresses, sulking while they walk around offering sardonic smiles to each other;I realized that when everything's shattering into pieces,but pathetic ego(s),conflicts turn into warfare,victims into collateral damage,and innocents into monstersWhat do I draw?God or his children? At 17,I would paint a self-portrait, because monsters are matchsticks, waiting to light fire tomounds of muted anger put oil to streams of abuse,monsters are unsheathed daggers,waiting to draw blood from the very tongue that gaslights and gambles;monsters are silhouettes againstthe too fancy lights of your night lamp,and maybe monsters are daughters who tried too hard to not become their mothers and dismantled their rusty selves, to wearskins of creatures of fright and power. I drew a monster.Do you see the why?©artsyy
Almost is the fate of most stories...©his_aesthetic_ink
#writersnetwork #finding #destiny #mirakee #miraquill #poetry #poem @writersnetwork @miraquill
[ finding ] I walk,aimlessly,with my eyes wide openI cross shopsboth young and old and older than the Novemeber of 1996.I'm 24 today!somwhereI know I am on the right streetif I were to paint my father's instructions, I know this lane is the perfect matchbut where is the shop I wish to visit?this makes me question the path I have takenmakes me question my father, makes me doubt his direction.I still am walking,aimlessly,but in a slower pace than before takng much smaller stepsfor I'm afraid of reaching to the other end of the street sooner than I had expected "O destiny!" I know you but know not where to find you don't I attract you enough?~ कलम-e-समeeर
@miraquill - Thanks for EC
And if one dayyou decide to choose oblivion,they'd declare you fast asleep.Who knows,you'd be dreamingwith eyes wide open,chasing catastrophesor relishing a holocaust.Your alter ego won't refuteand life won't be an actof redemption.You would not be timedand your footprints unmarked.No questions or answerswill be aroundbecause of the lack of gravity.Maybe, that's what it's about,escaping the escapes.Calling dibs on your soulbefore you lose itto diseases or coveted age.Till then you may restin your shellwith the many insights.©_transient
//And moon you said i dont love youAnd u felt that i lied than, ohh darling moonRead my poetries because they won't lie// Ohh! Moon Just Hold Me In your Eyes And let me Recite All your Love poetries Thanks for the ❤Happy reading ❤I tried it for the 1st time not tat good@writersnetwork @miraquill #concretepoetry
//She is from the mars But,she fell in loveWith the moon//©unspokenpen1927
#ensnarec #wod @writersbay @miraquill @writersnetwork I wanted to make it a box and everything. But it's not working. Sorry
Ensnared in a Box of Formality I Perform a Trick called Reality.
Ensnared in a box of formality, I cut ties with my identity. Crude and vicious reality. To fit in on the stage of standers. I perform an illusion of disparities. Unlike the magician with illusion real. I charm the real as an illusion. Disputed self argues in vain. With customary courtesy and familial fame. I pulled the trick up my sleeve. "Sleep! O mighty one it's time to sleep"Amidst the dozing patrons. I woke my inner beast. Free at last when the world's asleep. Terminating the numbered moments of joy: A song of the midnight hour. As the beast crawled back into the box, Beauty ensued: Perfected prosperity Pretty pout on a masked face. Ready to perform again. Ensnared in a box of formality, I perform a trick called reality.©themoonandthesun
When I writeI make sure that The nib of the penRemains intact With the pageNot because I've plenty to writeBut because Of the strong windsThat enter My room abruptlyThrough the big Unsophisticated windowWhich can blown away The torn pagesOn which I usually scribble...©altafmurtaza
Girl You Knew
I wish I was that girl you knew,But I'm older now,Perhaps it's just a point of view,Yet, I've changed somehow,Life was such a journey,I thought I'd never see,Days where I'd be so powerful,But now this is me,Butterflies can become steel,Yet still can fly,I guess you thought that when you left,I'd just curl up and die,But you became the catalyst,From which I learned to grow,Build myself up, love myself,Now I'm a woman you don't know.©foreverseptember
Ty @miraquill for editor's choice.#wod
Writing is a binocular lens To view the world To comprehend the unspoken.©wordlings