#solace

1729 posts
  • poetically_yours 4d

    All I have is the pen and my mind and when they intertwine, I ink the paper with thoughts that are seldom fathomable by the prosaic lot of mind.

    ©poetically_yours

  • karthikeyan_srinivasan 4d

    Some memories are like those songs in your playlist. You neither Play them nor Delete them.


    ©karthikeyan_srinivasan

  • zoya_charmz 5d

    Solace

    You're my sunshine
    of the day,
    moonlight of the night.
    Silvery shining stars
    of my life and
    ultimate essence of joy.

    Your ethereal love
    and care has
    revived me back.
    Your delicate touch
    of warmth
    mesmerizes my
    broken soul.

    Never break this
    exquisite bond of love
    because ever I find
    solace in your arms.
    Forever be mine,
    forever be mine.

    23-05-2020
    ©zoyacharmz

  • vivan_the_peaceminded 1w

    Still waiting for that day
    Where's its just you and me
    Seeking solace
    After a whole long drive

    ©vivan_the_peaceminded

  • _shoelacegirl_ 1w

    Lover of Melancholia

    I walked into the arms of melancholia,
    I looked back one last time–– seeking home.
    I saw colours, heard chatter and felt pain
    till it was too much to bear.
    Only later did I realise I'd looked for home all wrong.
    I let myself to drown into the cool depths of melancholia.
    I cannot say when it happened.
    But I fell in love with it:
    the solitude it offered to me,
    the softness of silence,
    the unconditional acceptance.
    Now––cheery crowds: just an annoyance,
    judgemental ladies: my worst nightmares,
    fitting in: an unneeded hassle for naught.
    I stayed in the arms of melancholia,
    never wanting to leave the solace it offered.
    They looked at what they thought to be a train wreck.
    But I'd never felt more alive.
    Yes, I am a lover of melancholia.
    And I wouldn't change it for anything,
    for it is where I found and healed me,
    And it is yet to let me down even once.
    ©_shoelacegirl_

  • captain_ 1w

    Resentment and respect/love are two sides of a misunderstanding, between them is a bridge called "SORRY", you just need to choose which side

    ©captain_

  • autumnbreeze 1w

    Daisies twirl as the breeze sway,
    absent from the gushed storm.
    There sits a girl,
    awaiting for daisies to fly off.
    Her evenings are spent
    amidst the warning signs of escape.
    No one hear her steps
    at the time of sunbeams and daylight.
    She lives across a sodden land,
    the trespassers of vanity often say so.
    Her activities differ from origin,
    but a spark is cringed beneath rugged skin.
    She trolls up and down the hill,
    with no wonder of company or misery.
    Her laugh disperse township,
    alike bells of church preaching sanity.
    Her hands brush nature,
    spilling ecstasy over sheer figures of faith.
    The daisies dance around her,
    a revel seen through innocence.
    She whispers doured desires,
    urging the chants to disclose.
    Her truth are handcuffed,
    alike the roots of daises.
    She lulls daisies to dream,
    as life is too fragile for holding despair.
    Her eyes glint novelty,
    gesturing the daisies to run away from opaqueness.
    She lends words of individualism,
    for daisies to act upon believing unlike her.
    The daisies are peculiar about life,
    alike the civilians with flesh of terror.
    She sings tunes of freedom,
    manipulating daisies to treasure winds.
    The daisies drool,
    hinting their mere stoic lives.
    As the girl who gleams in twilight,
    confesses her identify as the dybbuk who couldn't defeat.

    #poetrycommunity, #poetry, #poem, #nature, #daisy, #dreamy, #fantasy, #potd, #poemoftheday, #freedom, #writing, #writingishealing, #healing, #healingbywriting, #solace, #remedy, #she, #her, #art, #poetess, #mirakeecommunity, #mirakeepoetry, #mirakeepoem, #mirakee, #writersnetwork

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @soulfulstirrings @_kabir

    Read More

    She lulls daisies to dream,
    as life is too fragile for holding despair.
    ©autumnbreeze

  • maggiee 1w

    Looked all around with hope,
    So that cool breeze will touch your soul.
    Perhaps you looked at those stars,
    Some of them fell in my hair and gave solace to my heart.
    ©maggiee

  • poetically_yours 1w

    The worst thing is not when people change.
    But when an old memory of their glide past your mind and you were like "how the fuck did we drift apart?" and realizing that nothing can be done to revive it.

    ©poetically_yours

  • autumnbreeze 1w

    Oblivion saga of love
    sits tame at the end,
    half enchanted, half futile.
    A roar escaped at par of gasps,
    weaved in order to defend.

    Saturated remains for affection
    knit a shield to proclaim,
    half devastated, half mystical.
    A name triggers flares of beauty,
    carved by the letters of the love I hold.

    His eyes foster dreams,
    a tranquil chase,
    half arcane, half enduring.
    A runaway map crafted viciously,
    for wallows leaked from high aspirations.

    His lips spill out truths,
    a reckless poem,
    half pinned, half recited.
    A lullaby charmed on me,
    to hide away from reality.

    His arms enclose my insecurity,
    a nectarine poison,
    half toxic, half satisfactory.
    A remorseful remedy captivated,
    to awaken grudges stumbled upon sanity.

    His fingers dribble disgrace,
    a lonesome evanescence,
    half enduring, half mournful.
    A trail proceeding ecstasy,
    only to reframe the void of failure.

    His love unravel innocence,
    a bonafide regime,
    half awaiting, half fiercely.
    A measure jiggled in pieces,
    to conjure a flame of lust.

    His name glint phantom,
    a redundant urge,
    half lucid, half wicked.
    A remedy sinned in deprivation,
    only to shed glitches of hope.

    #poetrycommunity, #poem, #poetry, #potd, #poemoftheday, #remedy, #solace, #writing, #words, #healing, #healingbywords, #art, #mirakeecommunity, #mirakeepoetry, #mirakeepoem, #mirakee, #writersnetwork, #pod

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @soulfulstirrings @_kabir

    Read More

    A name triggers flares of beauty,
    carved by the letters of the love I hold.
    ©autumnbreeze

  • manuhere 2w

    Not with a runawaybride and i am halfway
    -Manu Mishra

    take it all you want
    they say the weak say that
    what if you're driven nuts
    every sip you have
    you roam spilling the guts
    i say vent isn;t dissent
    lyrically naked explicit heads
    sleeping till mornings
    never into a woman,ripped to shreds
    put that away listen to me
    a house of gold
    a life of less misery
    wise men speak filtered
    affection is misery
    philanthrophy suits the model
    who strip his own self again
    humans live in agony
    fascination,dissent ,pain
    still overcome and sleep with peace
    giver her a house of gold
    then runaway and stay home
    kiss your bride and grow old
    ©manuhere

  • poetically_yours 2w

    L'amour Saigne

    Hold her close and hold her tight,
    To forget all the pointless fights.
    Don't shy away from the past,
    Kiss her, like it's your last.
    Close your eyes and feel her smile,
    Love so pure, like the heart of a child.
    She'll stay even if she's gone,
    In your heart like a poetic song.

    Through his eyes if she could see,
    Her eyes would go moist and watery.
    An idol she thought she could never be,
    Prevailed of her amidst his heart's debris.
    None to be blamed for it was such,
    They walked away and let time be the judge.
    Somethings are never meant to be,
    But if you ever loved? You can't really set 'em free.


    ©poetically_yours

  • karthikeyan_srinivasan 2w

    Not sure which is farther. The distance between the moon and the earth or the distance between two people who cannot stay together but badly want to.


    ©karthikeyan_srinivasan

  • truths_left_unspoken 4d

    "Beautifully catastrophic
    An oxymoron if you will
    She takes her children in
    Like refugees of the earth
    We are simply pilgrims
    Seeking constant shelter
    In the wake of a crisis
    Wanting something more
    We take for granted
    What we have
    The beauty of the sky
    With hues like the autum leaves
    When the sun would rise and set
    The illumination of the stars
    That light up the night sky
    In Our times of darkeness
    And becomes the muse of all our poetries
    We take For granted
    The gentle caresses of the air
    The smell of the salty ocean sea
    And the Petrichor
    That rises from the earth
    After a rainy day
    And lingers to our delight
    We owe it to her
    To make up for what we've lost
    She loves us still
    And she cries For us still
    Have you ever sat with her
    On a rainy day
    And listened to her?
    She exists
    To keep us alive
    She dosent mean to hurt us
    But She must retaliate
    In order to live on
    So on this day of the earth
    Let's praise what she's given us
    The beauty of Her love
    Our life..."
    ©truths_left_unspoken

    Hello everyone. I'm posting a bit later than I usually would but I hope you still see this. This poem was originally inspired by a project that I started on Earth day. It was really difficult to write at first because The words wouldn't flow the way I had wanted them to. I still feel as if my writing is a but stiff but I promise I'm working hard everyday to get better. Once again, please be paitent with me in my absences. I'm not leaving, and I don't plan to anytime soon. So, please enjoy what I have prepared for you today. Thank you so much everyone for your constant support. It was such a heartwarming thing to see all the warm comments you left on my last post. I'll try not to disappear for that long again. I still have a few poems that I still have yet to publish here so expect even more poetry. If you'd like, leave a bit of feedback for me so I can see how much progress I've made. Once again, thank you so much everyone. I promise I'll write again soon~
    ����

    #memories #disappearance #depths_of_love #writersofmirakee #mirakeeworld #pod #evanescence #poems #poetry #eternity #powerful #inspiring #solace #narrate #heart_of_a_writer #essence #cezara #presence #romantic #selfreflection #myself #personal #mothernature #earth #melancholy #hope
    @tomorrow_is_amazing @writersnetwork @ericwk @valerio_soverano @whitewings
    @shaliya @darknessisbliss @microknight @poetrydelivery

    Read More

    An Ode to Mother Nature

    "Beautifully catastrophic
    An oxymoron if you will
    She takes her children in
    Like refugees of the earth..."

  • autumnbreeze 2w

    The bed twitched, making me wonder if it was habitual or a new thing it had started to bother me. Letting me aware about how life had fostered me with many entities of misery. It was daylight enough to make me remind of unwashed clothes and suffering. The first thought which awakened my senses was the bunch of Mogra remaining in the fridge. A tweak of burden shivered my spine. I felt the ache, unaware whether it was the back ache or the pilled torture evolving inside. I took the support of a pillow, for stretching my back. The pillow felt wet and soggy, as if it had drenched every sob I let out for you. The windows were wide open, assuring the rays of some life amidst all the shackles. The faded blue curtains sway in the air, as to flash conscience within numbed baring. The stained colour reminded of the year he had bought it, saying how the pastel effect made him feel like home, safe, near me. On hearing my own thoughts, l mourned for a gasp of wail. The reality of loneliness brought anguish stiches within my body. I shut the windows, letting out a loud noise. I quickly sat on the bed. The small action released a tension in my fragile muscles. My eyes fall upon the curtains, how uncannily it captivated my attention. The faded colour shade a bright presence within the deemed room. As if it echoed in my direction, beguilingly saying, "I am only thing in this room that has some life left inside." I cringed at the mere sight of the curtains. Flames of hatred flush within me, indicating how destiny had betrayed me. A sea of emotions roused in my body, anger, pain, despair, greed, leaving room for a fight about which one being the dominant and the recessive. A pile of his clothes stayed still on the far end of the bed. It's smell disseminated within the room, urging me to think about the loss in my life. Even in dim light, the compact of kajal glinted through thick darkness. Looking at it, made me shrink, as if the life in me was gravitated by that small object, how it hold every facets of me and the life l had drowned in. It made me whine and l mourned, the salty water shedding from my eyes. I cupped my hand on lips to not loose the grip of sustaining. With the help of the end of my pallu, I cleansed my eyes and face. The sari was crumbled all over the place, perceiving like I had bathed in my own sweat. There was no valid reason on my part to change a sari which was untouched from Tuesday's ritual.

    There was a astonishing sound coming from the phone. The ringing was too gaudy to catch my attention into reality. I grabbed the phone, my palm was pale, the veins overshadowed glimpses of aliveness left in me. The white skin reserved place for the hostile blood to do it's job. The dial on the phone read 'Mumma', wandering why was the purpose of her calling. All reasons of her calling, hinge me about vindication. My mind scattered reasons of her call, a trespasser searching for a mile to rest. Was she calling to tell me what this marriage had done to me? Was she calling to accuse me of where love had land me? The ringing wried my attention and press the answer button absently. A wobbling sound came from the other end of the phone. "Hello...Meera?", the voice resorted my conscience. With tears absorbed on dry cheeks, a cry left from my mouth. In a croon whisper I said, " Hello...Mu..mma! " My mind tried very hard to shun the thought of her calling me by my first name, but I couldn't. "Oh dear Meera! I know I shouldn't be calling you now…But, I was wondering...if you would like to take the pictures...of y'all? They never belonged here." Her words left my brain in a hurricane. I felt like my tongue was stunned by the sorrows and I wondered if l was butting my own mouth to feel a muscle. My shivering hand tried to sense the outlines of my face. The fingertips touched my lips, only to feel a terrain laying in desert, dry and devastating. My being couldn't hold this aghast any longer. With bewailing cries, l spoken to her, "Mumma...He's...gone. He's...not coming...back. My Amit...has died." My grief echoed the whole room. I continued to talk, "There's no life left in me. I haven't changed the sari since last Tuesday. His clothes...are consuming...my being. Amit...Mumma...my Amit is not here...anymore." The scream resist the urge to stop, to hold some life. I let out everything remaining in me, "Mumma...the curtains hold the light of the room. He was right, Mumma. A year ago, he had bought the curtains from Lucknow. I had asked him about the dull colour. He had said that the pastel colour reminds him of home, of assurance, it makes him feel nearer to me. Mumma...my home...is no more in existence. I..can't...keep on...sustaining." My mouth was dry as a fish. But no measure of life could save it. I kept swallowing spits of yearn and bemoans of lost love. I grappled the phone tighter this time, as if each word I said depend on being heard, as if it's hearing was the only state of living left in this neglectful world. With a brief amount of stamina, I said, "You know...Mumma...the bunch of Mogra is left in the fridge. The ones he had bought...before the day...of accident. He had bought two such bunch. And l still remember, l had asked him for bring two of them. He had said while placing the Mogra on my braided hair, that he was...ready to be...a father. Mumma...we were going to parents. He was...going to be a father. There lies a brown file on the desk telling me everything is over. And now...I don't know what to do. Mumma...I don't know what...to do. I just don't know." The eyes were blurring my vision. They were sweltered from the heated tears. I felt like l was gulping my own cry. My head was heavy as a paper weight, as my heart felt strokes of relief. I placed my hand on stomach, to feel any sense or movement of the embryo. I heard my mother's voice flowing through my ears, my mind was too bizarre to reciprocate her talking. I tried to regain my conscience, she was saying, "Meera, I know you want to hear a lot of things from me. But, l will on say just one thing. The words l spoke to you before you ran away from the house. I will say them again today. Listen carefully, 'For gaining love, you need to take risk. For achieving a sight of life, you need to live through barren. For feeling a sense of heat, you need to survive the cold. For holding resilience, you need to defeat the terror within you.' Meera, my loving daughter, these are the difficult times. But, l promise something mesmerizing will soon blossom out of it. You still have me, never forget that." A thunder of safety brushed throughout my body. A sign of grace and retaining emerged on my face.

    The pain was still lingering within me. The thought of my child buried me in the pit of loneliness. I called out the grieving to my mother, "But Mumma, what about my child? It would never be able to see Amit’s smile, never be able to feel his smile on its cheeks. It would never know how he smells in Summer. Or the only time he recites a song is when he's happy. It would never know what his hands feel like in the Winter. It would never receive his warmth, his anger, his laughs, his love. It would never know what it's like to have a father like him. What about that, Mumma?" The thumping of my heart raced a bit slower than my thoughts. I traced a finger on my head to check the temperature. The skin on my head felt like a mixture of moist and wetness. I waited for mother to say something, I wanted to hear from her more than my own self. "Oh Meera, my brave girl, how could you forget about this. Amit is with you, everywhere. All you need to do is look. His presence is restrained within those Mogras. In the very fabric of those clothes. In the faded colour of those curtains. He might have left the world, the universe, but he won't leave you. His being, his soul resides in you, my Meera. So, how could you say, the child would never feel his presence. How could you forget, the child has a part of him in itself. All you have to do look and cherish it." The words greased a wave of faith in me. I was crying and smiling, unaware of what to respond to her words. They left a room for hope and mirth to follow it's way back here. With a bewildered look, I asked her, "Mumma, how do you cleverly know what to say? How did the words made me feel so calm? How do you do this?" There was a sound of sign coming from the other side. "Meera, just like the child of yours, you are a part of me. You resemble a small personality alike me. Just like you, l too had lost the love of my life, your father. And look were you and l are." I smiled at the mere innocence of my mother and my face gleamed of comfort. Acknowledging the fact that there was a squint of teary eyes on both sides of phones, we said our goodbyes. I stood up to open the windows. A breeze swift through my face, dropping the report file on floor. While l endured the passing wind as if it told me 'I'm here. I've got you.'

    P. S.:- It's a bit long and stretched out piece. But, I have tried to step out of my comfort zone and put my hands upon something which is a similar texture of Indian literary. It can be assumed as a piece for Mother's Day. Please do leave comments on what you appreciated and what you didn't. I hope y'all like this snippet!

    #snippet, #writing, #mothersday, #mother, #daughter, #grieving, #despair, #loss, #lostlove, #remedy, #healing, #healingbywords, #solace, #mirakeecommunity, #mirakee, #writersnetwork, #pod

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @soulfulstirrings @_kabir

    Read More

    For gaining love, you need to take risk. For achieving a sight of life, you need to live through barren. For feeling a sense of heat, you need to survive the cold. For holding resilience, you need to defeat the terror within you.
    ©autumnbreeze

  • autumnbreeze 2w

    There lies a scenery of artifice
    deemed within layers of melancholy.
    Where the sun breeds beams
    a shade of mirth clustered within thin flares of vain.
    I try to inhale it's regime,
    a process withered in gasp of gratification.
    The place where I belong,
    inhibit various crutches of defeat veiled like thorns on ferns.
    I've build a home,
    piled with pillars of disgrace carved in patterns of aghast.
    Each day of summer,
    I search for a halo of sun invaded somewhere beneath the chaos.
    How I prayer each summer,
    a cry for trembled worship of wisdom to secure sanity.
    Circle of sun,
    chase the prolonged phases of resilience soaked in abjurement.
    In dreams I seek for the place,
    where blithely concerns about the abominable past of mine.
    A forlorn place,
    encircled with the sun beams glinted through crooked trail.
    The only place,
    beguiling the rescues conceived by this dybbuk.

    #poetrycommunity, #poetry, #poem, #place, #universe, #sanity, #writing, #healing, #solace, #healingbywords, #potd, #poemoftheday, #mirakeecommunity, #mirakeepoetry, #mirakeepoem, #mirakee, #writersnetwork

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @soulfulstirrings @_kabir

    Read More

    Did I Imagine It?

    The place where I belong,
    inhibit various crutches of defeat veiled like thorns on ferns.
    ©autumnbreeze

  • thatgeekgirl 2w

    My Disappearing Island

    On the headland, looking outward,
    My island can be seen as clear as day.
    It "disappears" to everyone, though,
    Amidst rain-clouds and skies turned gray.

    I love to watch from afar when the rain starts,
    Pretending my island is about to depart.
    I journey home soon after
    With a rare warmth in my heart.

    A certain comfort comes over me
    As I turn away from the ridge.
    I'm overwhelmed with "coming home"
    Each time I cross our bridge.

    As I leave the land n the rearview
    I always take a final glance,
    Watch the mainland fade from view
    Feeling I've received a unique chance;

    A chance to leave the rest of the world,
    Imagining my island is floating away.
    Not forever - just for now -
    Lets me "check out" for the day.

    The air is more supple to breathe these days,
    The rain more refreshing than the norm.
    I look forwards to the days of peace and calm
    When my island "disappears" in a storm.

    These days are few but have such rare beauty,
    Both of nature, and of a different kind,
    The beauty of seeking solace on my island,
    Leaving the rest of the world behind.


    ©thatgeekgirl

  • janar_az 2w

    Can you understand?

    Once it was nice to live there,
    World of solace,
    Nowadays, I feel like living parallely in both the worlds...
    I'm in the middle of billions,
    I feel alone;
    I'm alone,
    I can see millions around, Am I schizophrenic...

    I feel devasted for no reason,
    Is it because of living twice at a time?
    Sometimes I feel like sharing,
    But there is no one to share,
    Or maybe it's my trust issues,
    Is someone there?

    I don't feel any urge to pair,
    I see no one,
    And I don't think I can hold it alone anymore,
    I need someone to support me,
    Aww! It sucks...

    When I see some happy couple,
    I feel I need one,
    But when someone starts to care me,
    My mind, "That's not the one",
    Sometimes I feel fear,
    Does everyone go through these?
    How are you holding up?

    I don't know
    Am I becoming weak?
    Or I've been week the whole time,
    Or maybe it's just the biological setup of humans
    To depend on someone, to crave for someone, to love someone...
    Is it time for humans to evolve to live alone?
    Atleast for me? Atmost for me?

    Help! No thanks!
    ©janar_az

  • autumnbreeze 2w

    A search for self
    begins with torns and scars.
    Trail of hesitation
    guide beams of validation.
    Hasten steps of forgiveness
    blind every stone of conscience.
    Stumbled roads of cultivating
    engulf soil and mist of fatigue littered inside me.
    Relic tunnels of torture
    weave my urge to proclaim fear and sadness.
    Forlorn streets of wisdom
    secure answers for corrupted feigning self esteem.
    Shallow lights of desire
    hinge forced glee of trading hearts with ruthless breathes.
    Barren terrains of solace
    occupy perished seeds of my agony.
    Wabbit foots of reincarnation
    cast a pathway for destiny to hear my call.
    Fostered stars of faith
    company me towards scratched land of releif.
    While a patch carves
    faded voids on this arcane voyage.
    Fiercely asking for a dithering closure
    beneath the distorted will to ever commence.

    #poetrycommunity, #poetry, #poem, #remedy, #soulsearching, #soul, #healing, #healingbywriting, #writing, #solace, #potd, #poemoftheday, #mirakeecommunity, #mirakeepoetry, #mirakeepoem, #mirakee, #writersnetwork

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @senden_k @soulfulstirrings @_kabir

    Read More

    Forlorn streets of wisdom
    secure answers for corrupted feigning self esteem.
    ©autumnbreeze

  • karthikeyan_srinivasan 3w

    Is it the people who hunt for feelings or is it the feelings that haunt people?


    ©karthikeyan_srinivasan