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  • branthan 3d

    the sky never seemed to care about what you feel.
    for a poetic touch, you gave it a color,
    a life, and a story that fits in your journal.

    but it was never the same, always changing;
    from one color to another.
    blue to the orange to the red
    and sometimes, a bit too grey for your liking.

    you chose a word to match the color
    and a few more for the clouds and the wind.

    it's always blue when you begin,
    not too bright but not too sad
    peeking through the window to the beginning;
    a beginning that's so uncertain.
    but put a smile on your face,
    a tired little one where your lips barely move.

    you don't know why, but grey always had
    a sad story to rain down.
    sometimes a gentle kiss on your numb body
    sometimes drowning you to death.
    but, it always had something sad about it.

    sadness that always fits so perfectly about
    a long lost one,
    as it rains down to drench the streets and
    numb the pain of all the ones that look through
    a window and leave a sigh.

    like a fine Claude Monet's painting, the sky
    bleeds into a perfect stroke of all the colors;
    but it's never the same the next day.
    silent, but tranquil moments of serendipity
    that lets you breathe.
    some endings are always more artistic
    than some beginnings.

    the day strips down into the night to end the charade;
    there is too much dark between the stars.
    we turn on the artificial colors to fill the room,
    darkness always questioned your existence.

    you always loved the night sky, my moonchild;
    when the sky lay bare against your eyes
    you wrote the best lines of all the things
    that never made sense in your head
    but somehow someone felt connected to
    like the stars that always stayed till the end.

    a tiny dot in the endless space,
    awed by the wonders that hide from the sight.
    perhaps, some infinities are bigger than
    what we can comprehend.
    but you always wondered what the sky feels.


    #pod @mirakee @writersnetwork

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  • branthan 4d

    don't ask me,
    how I know her or
    how she looks like.
    I'm just like you,
    looking at the
    starlit sky, only to see
    her passing through spaces
    between the stars.
    unbounded by gravity
    away she goes.
    we are nothing but
    bones and dust
    chained by the mundane ways
    staring at the sky
    and watching her in awe
    never to touch her
    never to see her again.

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  • branthan 5d

    I tried to write about you,
    in many lines, and stories that
    never survived the first read.

    you had promised that you would
    write to me every week
    in the faded blue inland letters
    that we bought for nostalgia.

    it would smell like life, you said,
    with coffee stains and your
    handwriting that always fell
    behind your thoughts

    we wrote a few ones,
    about life in the new city
    all new faces and places that
    you were so excited about

    I found the rest of the
    blank ones in the bottom shelf
    that I haven't opened in ages.

    I don't know what to write on the
    blank address lines,
    but I still wonder if you found the
    right pace to keep up with your thoughts.

    maybe one day we will meet again
    in the crowded bar, on a dark corner
    trying to find stories in people
    who found the right amount of
    whiskey to hideaway.

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  • branthan 1w

    I feel like a twig, you said
    in a broken branch of a decaying tree
    that looks at the dwindling dusk

    I've seen enough sunsets
    and the falls to know
    how it all ends

    changing seasons always leave
    a mark on the skin, until
    one take life away as you fall
    when the roots no longer hold
    the ground.

    it crashes down, with a horrid cry
    slowly melts into the ground
    as if it never existed.

    I feel like a twig, you said
    on that broken branch of the decaying tree
    laying down on the remains of
    what it used to be
    in a hope to bloom again on another rain.

    @writersnetwork

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  • branthan 2w

    Do you know why I love stars?
    They represent something extraordinary.
    It is like staring right into the past life of something that happened long before our existence. It questions our understanding of time, this is nothing but a universe that existed in different parts of the time. Some a few minutes before, some few hours, some thousands, some billions and some may not even exist at this moment. In the grand stage of things, our now is nothing but a collage of a past that no longer exists. We are so damn foolish, thinking we need words to tell what we feel when the universe does a better job with this darkness and flickering lights.



    BG:

    It is one of the most iconic photographs taken by the Hubble space telescope.
    These towering tendrils of cosmic dust and gas sit at the heart of M16, or the Eagle Nebula. The aptly named Pillars of Creation, featured in this stunning Hubble image, are part of an active star-forming region within the nebula and hide newborn stars in their wispy columns.
    source: NASA

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  • branthan 2w

    I wasn't sure how to start writing this one. I was going through my old notes and found a piece from Cosmos by Carl Sagan, so I felt like I should write something, and I was listening to Eminem!

    "The Voyager message is traveling with agonizing slowness. The fastest object ever launched by the human species, it will still take tens of thousands of years to go the distance to the nearest star. Any television program will traverse in hours the distance that Voyager has covered in years. A television transmission that has just finished being aired will, in only a few hours, overtake the Voyager spacecraft in the region of Saturn and beyond and speed outward to the stars. If it is headed that way, the signal will reach Alpha Centauri in a little more than four years. If some decades or centuries hence, anyone out there in space hears our television broadcasts, I hope they will think well of us, a product of fifteen billion years of cosmic evolution, the local transmogrification of matter into consciousness. Our intelligence has recently provided us with awesome powers. It is not yet clear that we have the wisdom to avoid our own self-destruction. But many of us are trying very hard. We hope that very soon in the perspective of cosmic time we will have unified our planet peacefully into an organization cherishing the life of every living creature on it and will be ready to take that next great step, to become part of a galactic society of communicating civilizations. "


    If everything is art, then is it beautiful anymore?
    If you could fall in love with everyone, then is love even that magical and worth all the trouble?

    I don't think that I can define art. But we know that it makes you feel something. Well, by that logic, Trump always makes me angry. The very fact that someone like him exists makes me mad. So, being angry is feeling "something" right? Does that mean he is art too? Well, perhaps the art of being a complete dumbfuck. Makes sense.

    Everyone should have the freedom to express themselves, that's a basic human right and we should respect it. But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't criticize it. So let's just make one thing clear, if everything is art, then there is definitely good art and bad art too.

    I woke up
    it was late
    I ran outside
    stepped on something
    it was dogshit.
    I stepped on dogshit!

    Even if I write this on a grey background with a fine font to a million followers doesn't make it art or make me a poet.

    She walks in beauty, like the night
    Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
    And all that’s best of dark and bright
    Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
    Thus mellowed to that tender light
    Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
    - Byron
    Now, that's a real poet and a real poem.

    We are made to believe that we can be anyone we want. But often they hide the hard work that it takes to get there. So our lazy ass brain looks for shortcuts to quick fame. Recently I've watched Carryminati's video on TikTok vs YouTube, even though I don't really like him for roasting Pewdiepie, he had a point.

    TikTok is stupid, let's just get that out of the way. Anyone who says that they are TikTok content creators is dumb too. I may be generalizing, there are some really good content creators there. But more than 90% of the content in that platform is dumb. I'm not talking about people who are using it for fun. But yeah, TikTok, as a platform, represents everything that's wrong with the world.
    We can talk for days about how predatory capitalism is trying to make us slaves to this digital laziness that our attention span is going down the drain. We can't read an entire book, rather we double tap on a few lines in a squared box, we don't really have the time to read a complex poem to understand the deep metaphors.
    So we get deep into this digital utopia of self-destruction without even realizing it. An AI analyzes your every digital movement and keeps feeding you the content that you're gonna like then slowly the ads that you're gonna click. So we are made to believe that you can be a poet even if you don't know how to write, and you can be a content creator with a stupid hairstyle and a lot of filters. It keeps this loop alive.

    Staying relevant is the one other thing, every algorithm is fine-tuned to keep you in that digital utopia. The more people you talk to, the more relevant you gonna be. If I don't read your works and reply to your comments, you still gonna keep reading what I write? Like for like, follow for follow culture, right? Can't really blame anyone tho, it's all part of this dopamine consumerism.

    14 billion years of evolution and here we are. A world where billions of people still follow the old and obsolete religious systems, a world where we have to fight for basic human rights, a world where patriarchy and misogyny are deeply rooted in our social structure, a world where we still judge people by the color of their skin, a world where we still fight in the name of pseudo nationalism and fake borders that we created, a world where a number on a piece of paper decides your future, a world where the underprivileged people suffer the most, a world where everything is going crazy but we are stuck in a 15-second cringe video.

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