Mirakee
I feel like this giant walking, talking void and Noone can ever fill me up with love 'cause no amount of love will ever be enough.
_snow_flake_
_snow_flake_
❄️I have always admired talking in riddles❄️
Grid View
List View
Reposts
-
_snow_flake_
3w
-
_snow_flake_
3w
We loved loud only to grow silent.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
5w
I sow my dreams to reap regrets,
Under the rains of time.
I am making amends for the mess I never made.
I cry almost.
And the tears never fall.
And my existence crawls out of my tepid mind.
I am running so fast from the self I despise,
only to fall behind.
The shadow of the past overshadows me ,
It grows and growls like thunder and storms.
I can't control the rain of time.
The more it falls, the more the colours leach out of my soul,
I scream almost,
But in decibels diluted.
I mutter the theme of concrete dreams
While the shutters of my eyes are coming to close.
Too close I feel to the infinity I so dread.
The dread half decays and I grow like the void.
I am punching holes in the fabric of life.
The stories meet their ends,
And the pages turn to white, then warm yellow and then the colour of coffee Carelessly spilled.
There is nothing more to become.
There's no more history to rewind.
I am left with the growing sun.
The thunders are still resilient,
Struggling to match the metaphor of time.
But I have no dreams to remember,
No regrets to kiss goodbye.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
6w
Sometimes the sound of the ticking clock is so deafening that it ends up drowning the voices of all my loved ones all at once.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
8w
The last goodbyes are better left unsaid.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
9w
Honest apathy is a lot better than forced empathy.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
9w
I hope you keep surviving until you find your reason to live.
Happy new year.
Be resilient.
Be at peace.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
9w
You tell them you are here for them
When you don't even know where you are.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
9w
I dread the deafening silence that follows after all the firecrackers burn out and the music stops.
_snow_flake_ -
_snow_flake_
10w
Token
It's okay.
Let things, people, situations break you into a thousand tiny pieces.
Let the cold water come rushing in and take all those pieces away with it except one.
That's the token of your survival.
Hold on to it.
You're still complete, just not concrete enough.
Set out on a voyage.
Find new things, people, situations, ideas and aspirations that will yield you new pieces, a new form but be formless, calm on the surface.
Fight your battles.
Make strong allies.
The next time you face your old enemies,
Remember..
You're not concrete.
You're the cold water now.
Unbreakable,
Formless,
and still complete
With that one little token to hold on to.
_snow_flake_
-
akblackmann
85w
Bits 9#
My homelessness started from the heart
My hopelessness started from the mind
But my mortal decay started from the soul
©houseofbeardman -
theboywiththespecs
108w
I live among animals who skinned their humans out.
-
Predestined.
The first time I laid eyes on you,
I foretold it wouldn’t last,
Before I acknowledged that you and I-
Were meant to be together
Only,For a specified time.
You redefined the boundaries
of love for me and-
I manifested what it really was,
You took away my demons,
And I gave life to some for you.
I learnt to balance myself on the,
Agonising loop of existence,
But I took you towards it,
Knowing that it’d break you,
But it was predestined.
I knew the end-
Would break us both
Into tiny shards of glasses,
But I’d rather have another
painful end which was inevitable,
Than to watch you get
taken away by someone else,
At that cafe when
-You laid eyes on me,the first time.
©anoushkagupta -
Kora kagaz
मैने बहुत से ईन्सान देखे हैं जिनके बदन पर लिबास नही होताऔर बहुत से लिबास देखे हैं जिनके अंदर ईन्सान नही होता।कोई हालात नहीं समझता कोई जज़्बात नहीं समझता ये तो बस अपनी अपनी समझ की बात है कोई कोरा कागज़ भी पढ़ लेता है तो कोई पूरी किताब नहीं समझता....
©mahdiwrites -
Date
At the midnight, in a cemetery,
from the grave, he got up again,
and moved to his burried bride,
for he just planned a beautiful date,
for his beautiful wife.
Gentleman knocked on her coffin,
she said- "Honey! I'll take some more time".
Taking a minute or two,
she came out,
in his favourite red,
with a corona of drooping
lillies,
on her forehead.
Seeing each other, their eyes smiled,
he gently took her hands,
in his hands ,
and whispered something
in her ears... blushing she,
started running,
in a way romancing
with her man.
The moon joined the date,
and with its reflection
both the souls shined bright,
he knelt down and asked
for a dance,
and suddenly,
giggling just echoed all around.
These were pairs of souls
that couldn't resist this
romantic effect,
underground.
And all the lovers of history,
just came alive,
and started dancing,
on the inaudible rhythms
of the moonlight.
©ayushsangwan
3/8/2018 -
_seed_
135w
Read MoreWord of the day~Gesture
#wordoftheday
#gesture
@writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee @mirakeeworld @ericwk @lovenotes_from_carolyn @carolyns_lovenotes_and_reposts #cezara #alfia #cwrites #tanu01 #writersnetwork #readwriteunite
Gesture ��
Gesture could be anything
Anything kind
Anything genuine
Anything selfless
Something unintentional
done knowingly or unknowingly
Something You do for someone
That doesn't just leave a smile on their face
But on your's too
A gesture could be in any form
Anger
Care
Love
Compromise
Sacrifice
But never ever be mistaken
They only have the best intentions for You
As gesture shares the same language
As love..
Whispering silently in your ears
"Hey stranger I'm there for You"
©abhey1289
Thank U so much ����
Thank U so much for Ur time ����Gesture
-
miss_m
136w
i ask the light to not leave me
And i keep wondering about you
Life is mysterious like every piece in it
I Keep hoping to not lose any pieces
Nothing easy only you
can put all that pieces
Together
©miss_m -
hoshi
141w
Read MoreI'm tired.
This is the last time I'll be picking up this pen, the last time I'll be hearing the scratch of nib against the paper.
A lot has happened in my life, ranging from heartbreaks to failures. Achieving my dreams to all of it crumbling down when the greed consumed my soul.
I've attained liver spots on my hand, the same place where scars were before, the scars which marked my life and it's journey.
See, when I was young, I was a great believer in vanity, the shining and dazzling things always captured my heart. Lasting forever was a dream come true - even if it was a wish wrapped up in a safety blanket.
As my life went on, the autopilot kicked in, with each day feeling the same and my heart always yearning to connect with others, trying to understand what's in their head.
Going through all that, I've always aspired to be alive, to be there for others. If only to heal their hearts and then watch it fall apart.
Well, now it ain't coming true. During my younger years, when I was vain, I wanted to be buried, with a headstone to be present for others to visit.
Now, as I write for the last time, I'm penning it for the first and last time, on how my soul has changed. I would like to step towards the empty space, linger in the air. I would like to be cremated, my ashes lost up in the wind.
Let me lose control for once, enter your hearts and heal you. For I'll be present in memories then, rather than stone.
That's my last wish and desire. That's how I'll keep my promise of being there for you. For all of you.
-Hoshi."..I would like to step towards the empty space, linger in the air. I would like to be cremated, my ashes lost up in the wind.."
-Hoshi -
thesilverlining
142w
Read MorePoetry teaches rebellion
like it taught me
to end a sentence with a preposition
or break the barrier of colour,
gender, culture and sexual
preference
I know, I write naive, it’s too simple
But kudos to me, because it appeals to people
I can’t be all diplomatic and subtle
My poems will hit you in the face
Like a falling shuttle
My poetry is traffic
With too many words and feelings jammed
In my throat
On the road to my tongue
I mean no disrespect
But poetry in its purest form to me
Is like ripping my heart out of my chest
And feel it near on paper
I know technique, structure and format
is a big deal
But I can’t sugarcoat how I feel
It’s not like im committing a crime
At least this poem rhymes
With my nose on the verge of bleeding and my hands unsteady
I will state the obvious, repeating what you have heard already
I know dear audience
at open mics, in competitions
You will discover that cliche
Never goes out of Fashion
Poets in a queue, embodiment of imitation and repetition
But you mock and never use constructive criticism
You don’t understand what a person learns from observation
You think why pay a poet for a few minutes, he just a Vella entertainer
But it’s hours and weeks and months of practice to take high rate of speech or over come shutter
You might see that poem about self harm
As seeking pity
You might feel it to be words decked up to look pretty
But people find comfort in each other’s pain
You can’t deny suffering entertains
And somewhere down the lane
If you listen to us often
You won’t even realise
When you learned to emphasise
With homosexuals and their fears
And hear the monsters
A schizophrenic encounters
I know you might even consider spoken words as poetry
Call it “prose in a hurry”
But fun fact, it was practiced in, Greece, Africa, Arabia
Even before you defined what was ‘literacy’?
Or what made something “literary”
We are just continuing a tradition
A religion of thought and expression
Bending rigid rules according to our convenience
We are literary evolution
Dear poets
Let’s write crap because
it makes good fertiliser
Let’s fuel our voices with truth
And make it stronger
So when they say,
Whatever they want to
We won’t stop,
We will continue
Because we are world’s acknowledged legislators
The rebel, misfits, call us whatever.Poetry
(Read caption)
©thesilverlining
