Miraquill
MINDFUL
Staying in the moment with your five senses
Running after a kite
Hearing the whistle of a seagull
Tasting ice cream at the beach benches
Building a world in a play
No matter how much you repeat
Always feeling like the first time
Childhood
Incidentally mindful
Beatifully defenseless
Not chasing victory
A place where you started
Where you want to arrive to nonetheless
©therapisttales
therapisttales
Why do I keep chasing the bone?
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DEMENTIA
For our anniversary,
We had a tradition you liked
What it was we forgat
I cannot remember the words
And you cannot recall the images
So we won’t be able to tell each other
Why a particular melody
Fills our heart with happiness
Was it our wedding song?
Was it a march we felt belong
All I know that once in life
We enjoyed it as it is.
©therapisttales -
DON’T KILL ME WITH SYMMETRY
When you try to put
rather P
S O
I E
L T
L R
Y. Y
in a cage, it looks -
therapisttales
41w
.
Whatever you are looking for, it is gotto be somewhere, but not supposedly looking for you. You can’t run the whole play, but can only play your part and have it your way.
©therapisttales -
therapisttales
41w
.
3 essential rules for breaking the vicious circle of regret:
-Try not to do things that would damage you, something or someone.
-If you cause damage (conditionally or unconditionally), be kind and try to find ways to clean up/repair the damage.
-Learn from your mistakes and plan what you would do next time to change things for better.
Circles are easy, but they do not carry you anywhere.
©therapisttales -
therapisttales
41w
THERAPIST
A good therapist
is a stranger
who knows you more than your mother
understands you more than your spouse
motivates you more than your boss
and only gets an hourly pay.
©therapisttales -
ART for ART
He wrote a wordless story;
Surrounded it by stones
Some worshiped it as a God
Some stoned it as an idol
He wrote a wordless story;
A moment that told a second
Told the easiest part of sinning
Told the compensation for wrongdoing
He wrote a wordless story;
As impossible as fermenting a lake
For infinity, he dug a hole, dug ditches,
But the maggots overcame all obstacles.
What remained at the last station
Was not a mise an scene, not an image,
Just everything ending in wastage
With a dense, thick smoke
And no explanation
©therapisttales -
FLOW
little fish,
I cannot promise you a better world
or happily ever after
your best luck is to stay alive
so when the waters rise
rise with the flow
when the waters fall
stay low
©therapisttales -
SIS
I met someone who smokes cigar
But gives her cat diet food for a longer life
She wants hers in fullest, fast and furious
But when her mom gets flue it feels serious
I met someone who loved someone
Who loved someone who loved someone
When they all run out of love, she decided to stay
With her oldest friend (that’s herself) bare in a cave
I met someone who is cool as hell
Yet manages to put one foot in heaven as well
She is as nonjudgmental as a wind rose
She blows her own wind and writes her own prose
©therapisttales -
GLASS CEILING
The fog surrounded the ore.
Like a thin ankle to break,
Glass is buried in the ground,
The rarest, the deepest
The dirty sieve
Of the most mysterious secrets
©therapisttales
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On The Stairs
I used to sit on the stairs,
At family gatherings,
I'd be on the periphery,
Just listening in,
And with all that commotion,
Of people passing,
I'd be peaceful, and still,
Happy in my own skin,
And when I feel surrounded,
Back to the stairs I go,
They're like my private heaven,
A place where I can be alone,
I miss those who no longer venture,
Between rooms I'd oversee,
But then, I was always a step removed,
Maybe I'm more alive in my own company.
©foreverseptember -
dieudonnesong
43w
There’s this little word;
Four lettered and called “LOVE”.
It flows without being girded,
And springs from up above.
It is little, yet complex.
It’s filled books and bibloteques.
Often sought, sung of and penned.
Yet in ink it often remains unshared.
I’ve seen it in the fields;
Running free, calling me.
“come and share in my peace,
Which is found in sharing me”.
In the beginning was love.
Her expansion gave and gives us life.
Every thing was built from Love.
Let her expand again, this time, from your heart.
©dieudonnesong
August 27, 2021 -
It's like dodging blows
with closed eyes
when my thoughts it needs
four sights.
A4 size paper of
forty four bundles
to write about
in just one night's.
One might think
I am off of my mind,
I can't often catch
thoughts in words
that I find.
It's quite like chasing
butterflies and catching moths,
opine's intertwined. -
amsterdam
43w
Read MoreSILENCE
You look like a leaf
falling in slow motion
into the stone-cold ground,
shuddering in the dark,
naked like faded glory.
Solitude is a punishment,
you're a prisoner in isolation,
it swallows you whole
like a black hole stuck
on the gaps of your teeth.
And you mourn for the
murdered dialogues
and aborted reconciliations
buried on a mass grave
under your tongue.
You're a sad guitar,
whispering apologies
for the unsung melodies
that could have saved you
from drowning in profound guilt.
And I watch you weep
behind the curtains of loneliness,
when the night echoes
the screams of empty words
that have miserably failed you.
������������������
08.24.21
#gogyohka #wod
@writersnetwork thanku! ��Silence
You're a sad guitar,
whispering apologies
for the unsung melodies
that could have saved you
from drowning in profound guilt.
©amsterdam -
rekhuu
43w
Letting go. .
Let it go - the
darkest of hours
giving you myriad
sleepless nights
Let him go - the
heartless lover
leaving you after
promising a forever
Let it go - the
hardwork which
still fails to deliver
its desired results
Let them go - the
people who left your side
because of minor
misunderstandings
Let it go - the
past memories
that still succeed in
breaking your heart
©rekhuu -
journeyhale
54w
Read MoreEdit *Thank you so much for editor's choice! Wow this so cool!**
I am still mad at you
I still fume sometimes
Raging anger in a torrent.
They ask how I can be angry
at the dead.
I reply "very easily,
Grief is not a place for coherent thought."
Grief is a place where your soul is torn from your body and shredded into tiny pieces.
Grief is a place of madness,
A place where your gut falls to the floor
Seconds before your knees.
Grief is a place where emotions are oceans in a King Tide,
Churning and drowning you, never giving repreive.
It is never a place that makes sense.
It is where I'm still mad at you and you're still gone.
©journeyhale
#grief #loss #life #anger #rage #suicideawareness #suicide #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #writersnetwork #mirakee #podGrief is a Place
They ask how I can be angry
at the dead.
I reply "very easily,
grief is not a place for coherent thought."
It is never a place that makes sense.
It is where I'm still mad at you and you're still gone.
©journeyhale -
The smell of decay
seems to linger
in my memory forever
as the efforts to diminish
the feeling of emptiness
on losing someone
prove futile.
©innovative_writer -
ericajean
44w
Read MoreThank you all for the ❤love and reposts! Thank you, @miraquill and #editorschoice!
#city #wod
I live in the city
Where dichotomies exist,
We are living tormented
Organs with synchronized
Nightmares of brutality
And poverty
Breeds an eternal
Veil of anger
But it is a
Place where you hear
The cacophony of children
the scarred buses
Moan and whine
Same color as the sun
I live in the city
Where dichotomies exist
The people move like well suited cattle--
Ties yoked about the neck
As dazzling pythons
The women's high heels
Strike the pavement
Like a metronome completing
The dense city lyric
I live in the city
where dichotomies exist
The buildings are giants
praising the
Purple gold horizon
As I lick my lips and taste the air
When night falls
I still hear crickets
©ericajeanI live in the city
Where dichotomies exist -
windingpaths
44w
Read MoreCities
Two cities come together
and talk about their origin,
One speaks of its mountains and
the other about the rivers.
They talk proudly about the women and men who won in the Olympics,
And gossip about the accidents that took place on their roads,
They sacrifice their nature in the name of development,
And discuss the possibility of how much more is there to lose?
They saw people running on railway platforms to reach them,
And how once those people called them their dreams,
They share the same sky, but not the rain,
and there they go - defining each other's intensity of pain.
They talk about the battles which took place for their homes,
and how once they were bathed with blood and flesh of unknowns.
Today, they know the taste of their grounds
so they keep it private,
and swear to their respective mother tongue, not to run for each other at any cost.
'cause when two cities come together,
and talk about their origin,
They speak in different words for a common truth.
©Muskan
#city
@writersnetwork thank you so much for reading and reposting it..
-
kosachaya
44w
Read More/ These days, a absurd change of scenerio /
A positive progression.
Leading to mental regression.
Reverberating the obscure flow.
Lacing time to give a great blow.
©kosachaya
- S Gayathri Vijayaragavan
#city #wod
Thanks @miraquill and @writersnetwork for editors choice ❤️Phases of city
Lithographic phases
synched through monochromatic
strangle.
Envisioning harmony at various angle.
.
.
.
Betwixt the clandestine stories.
Enshrining the incumbent theories.
Lingering languid intriguing age.
When time passes various stage.
.
.
.
A realisation of unknown,
towards contiguous trauma of known.
Enlightening the dead theories
Camouflaging
Initiation
Towards beleaguered solitude
Yearning flabbergasted longitude.
©kosachaya
- S Gayathri Vijayaragavan
