Mirakee
That smell,
You stink in
all the time
The ugly,
searing odor of rejections,
dejections, failures, lies
and insecurities
discomforting nostrils
and you keep on pouring perfumes,
instead of a bath
©amber_blue
amber_blue
Give yourself that respect you deserve
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amber_blue
3w
I might reimburse
to the lonely nights,
Where stars guided
and I enjoyed
Not too close, alone
to the sun,
as I am afraid to burn
©amber_blue -
amber_blue
6w
The world I see is still pale,
from the bottom of this life
Edges are well carved,
Inside is smoothen, polished and shined
Leaving no chance to climb
©amber_blue -
amber_blue
14w
Do we ever realize,
we are changing each second.
the drops of rain, vapours on the blanket of green, bubbles of river, stones, wind, sounds, senses, expressions, relations...
They are never going to be the same again after this very moment passes
©amber_blue -
amber_blue
17w
To all the wilted rose in the vase,
We paid for,
knowing the fate and yore
Still,
we paid and bring home
©amber_blue -
Was it easy to break the cold night,
you think
I burnt my heart each moment to reach dawn
©amber_blue -
amber_blue
26w
Remember, what I said the night I held your hand,
And what remained unsaid when my eyes were shut.
Remember, the good I found in you,
And the bad I shut to
and everything I said about stars and the moon.
Remember me as a summer day,
Yellow, bright, warm in a glorious haze
and the tale, I told you about the village,
far in lands, a wife, a husband, and a rocking chair.
and how they spent the rest of their days,
I couldn't end it as they had so much to say.
Remember, I do not recall those winter nights,
or the cold and frost,
When I write you on pages I turned off,
You were and will be a hero, who fought my villains and never gave up on.
Maybe, I lost the key somewhere back home,
Maybe, I lost it on purpose, so it could all end well.
©amber_blue -
That body was touched, here and there
In ways, it was used to, or not to be
That body suffered autumn storms
And dry summers
Just before the numb shocks.
They promised to be her eyes before nonfunctioning her vision,
They promised to be her voice before bitting her voice
They promised warm nights before putting her on ice bricks
They promised to make her feel senses before peeling off her skin
With all the bruises, with all the pain in joints
With all the cold, with all the shakes
Some days she sits on grass
With the unpleasing smell of her rotten flesh,
Still, keeps hearing weeps and knocks of glass promises outside her closet,
In hope to be answered with warmth
©amber_blue -
amber_blue
32w
Fragrance of night,
often remains unattended
Glorified sunflowers,
often mentioned in morning phrases
Discover me on unattended paths,
When I often walk on busted roads
©amber_blue -
Vulnerability to light
As some choose to curl up beneath and miles,
Wish to be without light as
light confirms you
don't have anybody besides.
©amber_blue
-
godfather_sr
20w
" Lorn "
and all i got was a night full of stars which looks empty without you..!
©godfather_sr -
psychosammyr
28w
Read MoreThere She was - standing, waiting and watching the world even after the world never recognized her.
She was unknown to the world, and the ones who saw her were chosen by her to see her. She doesn't show herself to everyone. A shy apparition in her early twenties with slim and oblong face with sharp countenance, long midnight black hair flowing around her and shaping her delicate features, tall neck and she wears a long and flowing white cloth, possibly a sari that shimmered in the light.
She angled herself on the left side, her back resting on the wall, yet not touching the moss covered wall at all. She gazed into the distance from the second floor of the ruined building. Her gaze was indifferent, yet her sadness was showing in her almond shaped eyes, dark with lashes long, reaching to the pale cheeks.
When her eye contacts with another, she gives a dead look - nothing scary but as if she was seeing but not seeing at all for she waits for something else; maybe someone else.
But something in her postures beckons to her. She wants a few to stand where she does and see what she witnesses. The time has lapsed and the skies have changed, but she was still captured in the time where she existed in flesh and blood.
Some fortunate ones are willed to find her place and stand there, at that ruins where she stands and watches everything.
She lives in the hall that is possibly the biggest of all the remaining ruins there; every intricate remains belonged to her. Every broken stairs lead a step towards her favorite resting place, where she waits. She dwells in the hollow and empty rooms, tentatively step through the hidden spiral stairs, shows a few to see what she sees and where she lives, now all alone.
If one is asked, they see nothing. But why do you think she shows herself to a few? She shows because she is lonely; she shows that there is no end to waiting for something worth waiting for. Even after the flesh turned to mud or ashes, even after the sands of time has been blown away along with the wind that lets her white sari and thick, long and straight hair flow from left to right, she never left.
Some souls never leave their purpose even after death. That is why she is there, captured in the weaved circles of time.
#151119 #she #waits #ruins
#collectedpicture
You will find some past and present tenses mixed-up, but I can't change the err, as it seems fitting to me..
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ckfilvan
26w
Read More#justice #rape #victim #appeal @love_whispererr @the_story_weed @words_by_serene @sumana_chakraborty @soulfulstirrings @odysseus @writersnetwork @writerstolli @yamini_poetry
#julietscorner #ceesreposts #writersnetwork #passionbookworm #writerstolli
APPEAL OF THE DEAD
I am a soul of a little girl in a temple
Soaked in a knee deep pool of crimson blood,
Behold! There is a scene of confusion;
Quite oblivious of her past perfunctory bows
My mother cries like a child and cusses,
Not a single goddess saves
My child in your very house.
My father hides his eyes and considers
Religion is in want of a change,
My uncle often says his Namaz
While I cover my cheeks and calves;
My aunt searches for her misplaced Gita
While my cousins break my yet undeveloped eggs--
Blood branches like vines down my thighs.
My brother wears a tux of purity and holds a candle
Yet unlike the Samaritan winds his eyes with a scarf;
My sister swears that Thy love's untrue,
Her unbelief is not the fault,
But her believing in any thing is.
She's never heard Thou hast bathed her with water,
Washed the blood and put ointment,
Adorned her with jewellery, and fed her honey,
Olive oil and the finest flour,
She has become very beautiful and rose to a queen.
Indeed, the most beautiful, the last of your creation.
Boys call her goddess; how often
I yearn for the title unaware
That goddess could be killed in her own dwelling,
Could be raped and burnt by a devotee.
And the guardians of my motherland
So troubled and confound by their own voices--
They lack a moment of silence to listen
To your voice raining in their hearts,
If only they... Conceited as man ever is
He turns away as did Pilate before the truth.
Lord, I have a small request--
Who is there to avenge me?
Make my sister as brave a woman as Queen Esther,
Like Rahab to put her trust in you,
Grant us one to hold the sun in place;
Your soldiers are tired fighting the darkening night.
Grant us a wise jury to draw the line,
And the sagacity to judge wisely,
To seal the mouth of hungry lions,
To skin alive the filthy wolves that come for lambs.
Give a man a heart which loves his life--his woman.
Look! My sister is running
Towards a bear robbed of her cubs
Because there lurk monsters dressed in decent suits.
©ckfilvan
18,1404
Read the likes on #prayerz
"I passed by you again and looked on you; you were at the age for love. I spread the edge of my cloak over you, and covered your nakedness: I pledged myself to you and entered into a covenant with you, says the Lord God, and you became mine"
Ezekiel 16:8Appeal of the dead
She's never heard Thou hast bathed her with water,
Washed the blood and put ointment,
Adorned her with jewellery, and fed her honey,
Olive oil and the finest flour,
She has become very beautiful and rose to a queen.
Indeed, the most beautiful, the last of your creation.
Boys call her goddess; how often
I yearn for the title unaware
That goddess could be killed in her own dwelling,
Could be raped and burnt by a devotee.
©ckfilvan -
when_eyes_narrate
26w
Read MoreThe world is crumbling down around me
and all I see is a vast ocean and drowning me.
The symmetry of paper cuts are so align.
No one notices how heavy are those lines.
I carry the shadows of ghosts,
which dance on my head.
I carry the dessert mourning over the rains.
I carry the hurricanes which left me devastated.
I carry the volcano that erupts every now and then.
I carry the deadbeat dreamer who scribbles itself among the woeful verses.
I carry the thoughts which tear me apart.
I carry the clouds, no one can see, just I can feel.
I carry the hate which no one has ever felt.
I carry the demons messing up with my mind.
The thousands of papers and millions of proses,
they never came as savior in rage.
The journals and the pages, how can they aid the sleepless ages?
The melancholy and the wails,
my eyes have seen the endless rains.
The anger, the world finds annoying, I know how I've kept them inside my mind.
Those enormous fire,
flames as papers and
ignites as coals,
only I know how I've oppressed them among the nerves.
The horrible cries
The terrible lies
The tormented sighs
The fears and doubts
The weird insecurities
The haunted memories
The supresed screams
The shallow promises
The hollow soul
The numb eyes
The endless wails
The sleepless nights
The earsplitting weeps
The shattered dreams
I carry them all in a beautiful cloak.
The nightmares
from those cloak visits my vacuum sleeps.
I fight the battles in the cramps of sheets.
The drifting feelings and endless essence.
Then, some say you're too weak to carry such heavy emotions.
Wanna see my strength, just live a day with my passions.
Behind my curtains, there's a wooden window decorated with bloodstained words which echos through my heart.
The devil from past with armors of present, knock out my life with endless messes.
The choas in days, dressed up as silent ways.
The dusk and dawn both share same knot.
I know how hard it is to live a day, oscillating between endings of why and why not.
©when_eyes_narrateBipolar
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ericwk
25w
Wild Flower’d
White dove
digested seed
sounded ’coos
carried distantly.
Down valley’d
virile soils
sown released
retentive life.
Livened sense.
Spurred growth
germination due
destined blooms
budding stemmed.
Suffusive pollens
pistil stamen
sex protrudes
potent nature.
Natals flaunt.
Flora profound
pervasive scent
scattered around
alluring display.
Dappling hues
heartily expressed
emerald viridity
vivid wondrously.
Wild Flower’d. Love and hope ascends.
©ericwk ~ an EWK Poe'em -
shaabie
26w
Read Moreकभी कभी अपने अंतर की आवाज़ को शांत करना ज़्यादा ज़रूरी होता हैं बजाए बाहरी आलोचक के।
#selfcriticism #speak #words #express #hindi @hindikavyasangam @writerstolli @amber_blueतू कर बयां
जो दिल में है,
वो जहाँ में रख,
कर परे हर खौफ़ तू,
बात ये है ही नहीं कि,
कोई वक़्त देगा,
बात ये भी नही कि,
हर कोई नकार देगा,
बात है बयां करने की।
बस अभी ही वक़्त बक़ाया है,
तू लिख, तू बोल ― दिल खोल,
तू कर बयां,
तू कर बयां।
©शाबी -
pa_luck
27w
Read MoreIt's all about a thought !!
#shadow#shade#of#awe
#writersnetwork#readwriteunite#mirakee#pod
#mirakeeappA Shadow
There is always a shadow
under which you feel accosted
You slough off your shelves
in its darkness, to lay asserted.
You aren't ashamed of your shame
in letting it visit, your covered corners
A trail of footprints on un dusted pages
leaves some watermarked anchors.
You need not see the face of it
yet you see your face in it's glimpse
Like flashbacks of a previous life
sliding in the negatives of it's black films.
It makes you spell a death
you are living for, yet not dying
As the presence of an absence
and the absence of a presence.
This wraith is the only warmth
you can slit your every drop for
knowing its amoebic anonymity
that gulps down your thirsty gore.
You never search for your silhouette
once engulfed in it, in and out
Shades fade, lines merge, boundaries break
When you can feel a feather in this lout.
©pa_luck -
Keep calm
and let the storm
and conflict
inside subside
for there's only one life ,
one present ,
one future
Also there's plenty
of hope and colour
and
who knows
what thereafter ;
blues of bleak emptiness
can engulf galore
So let not
the tempest of vice
devastate this life anymore.
©sumana_chakraborty -
sumana_chakraborty
37w
Read More#caption#pod#writersnetwork@writersnetwork#mirakee@mirakee
#caption
Flying high in the buoyancy of life ...Flying high in the buoyancy of life
Trying to keep pace with that lightning speed of time
Trying to rise above the gravity of agonies and strife
Yet sinking down with the momentum so high.
©sumana_chakraborty -
It thundered but it never rained. Well I'm telling you about my heart's plight.
©juststrokes
