A cry. ... .... ' I should start first with that. Shouldn't I ? Well to all my neighbours, I und love. Will we meet again?...nope, I think so not.' ... Saying my byes to my whilom home, With open arms I welcome a novel umbworld. As I greet the airs of the ward, A kiss from the light rays redden my cheeks. 'Am I this welcomed?' As I was entwined in my thoughts, I became more oblivious of the rather four-shaped space. I still was on the bed So I thought, cos it was rather hard to lay upon. The doctor, a fair-skinned, took the forceps, then put it back. She mistook it for the scissors as she was trying to ascertain if I was alright. Having cut the only thing which attached me to my erstwhile, panic was then written all over her face.
I stare into your eyes.
Wanting to see you smile.
But what I see is nothing but your nothingness.
I rock you.
To not hear your cries.
But oh lord my heart’s the one's crying.
I feel joyous that my months of carriage
Has come to an end.
I wait for your smiles,
And all the smell of poops.
And to touch those tiny little feet.
But what I hold is a body full of mud.
Stuck with nothing but lifelessness.
Our stolen memories Have now turned memoria. Our once covert freelancing Is no more clandestine. Is this it? Our last bus stop? You purloined my heart and now you let it slither, wrecked? Beckoning the specters of the secret us. .. ... .... ☘
@mirakee, @writersnetwork thank you for your kind reposts. I really haven't been writing for months and I don't know if this is really a dream. Thank you everyone for your very generous comments and reposts. This means a lot. ❤️
I see mirrors, A lot of them. In the dead, the old, the decayed and the ones about to be deceased. I see mirrors in poems I read about the little girl in the meadows in her little white frock, with golden locks hanging down her shoulders The faint brown freckles on her face Dancing with the wind on her toes Like ballerinas she went to see last spring.
I see mirrors In the old women I hear about, Sleeping in her coffin, with her tranquility. I walk past her huge door everyday With the faded bijou letter plate, all brozed up with dust of mystery and the gold of love. The wooden door to her tiny abode of remenisce, where she fondly slept on the couch in her last days. For the king size bed her husband brought home Has been lonely for 22 years of him bygone. She swaps in the drapes and the sheets everyday, for him to sleep comfortably in her memories.
I see mirrors In the old library where pretty faces Take a bit of it with them in the photographs, The old shelves with books of those whose bones might have been loamed soil by now, Covered with webs of miniscule creatures and the shores they sank their feet in. It's been just years they've espied sunlight and held hands For those who come to read stand by the newspapers, too old to remember and too weak to bend down for them.
I see mirrors, In the houses near the shores For it's walls have glimmered with french Margherita splashes on the fond nights And have been scraped at times when the kids mastered to draw. The gardens remember the young father teaching his baby boy how to peddle, And now the birds pay their visit to the undomesticated feral grass. The radio on the china table now, never announces victory For the unrepaired gobs Haven't touched a human since the boy wedded maturity.
I sit on the viridescent grass under the sky at night, Illuminate just a little By the constellations of stars That I've deciphered Onto the black canvas That had held before Tinges of black and blue only.
I've always craved to daub the sky, With those colours that my heart Chooses to bleed. But all I could save was Gyrates of silver, drops of pearl white And shades of celestial blue.
I spun the star string With uttermost elegance and delicacy Fearing the chagrin of Athena. As had Arachne, Her shouts and terror played before my eyes, But slowly they faded away. Eclipsed by beauty, I concocted my own essence.
My perishable hands failed to darn The fabric of celestial bodies but "We are celestial beings.", Someone once told me this . So I allowed my own stardust Flow into it with ease.
Paradigm I wove With softness that's not mine And sprinkled into them life With what was left of my whole.
Once I was done with it, I wrapped the angelic veil, Beaded with the string of Orion Onto the black space of the cosmic sky. And the universe discerned art Oozing out of my veins. But no single homosapien spared a glance. Not a single praise tickled my ears And the sonorous silence clawed at my heart. But I wouldn't let that be.
The euphony my soul warbled Cuddled deep in the milky way of my creation. Too messy to make out If all I did was disburse random symphonies. Or my messed up tiny heart Had pondered for aeons To present the orchestra my eyes saw unfold.
But none of them mattered Because the universe of my creation Was silent no more.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Perhaps the last post of 2k20 Happy new year in advance to all of you ❤
The stairway to heaven Lies way beyond my soul, Far-away from my heart, And out of my control. As I pass each second, Of every single day, I take steps to travel, This far and distant way. The stairway to heaven Leads to a final goal, When earthly life's absorbed Via blending of the whole.
- Ernestine Northover ( Source: PoemHunter.com)
Write a short poem that includes the motion of going up or down a staircase.
I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of the hunger for life that gnaws in us all. - Richard Wright
Write a poem, short story or quote using the word echo.
2020 has been a rough year for most of us out here. It has been one of my toughest years and it taught me a lot. I have lost people, who are never coming back. I have been mentally disturbed too, and I wanted to write about it but I didn't know how to put it. All thanks to @sangfroid_soul , for her post really showed me that writing about 2020 is not as much of a bad idea as I thought.
Twenty things that I will carry forward from 2020 :
1) People might leave and you might not get a chance to bid the final goodbye. So make sure you are always in some sort of touch with people who matter, else you will spend next years of yours drenched in regret. (I have lost three very close people this year, I wasn't in talking terms with two of them and now when I think about it, I cuss myself in every way possible. I cannot even close my eyes at times.) So always choose your words carefully, so that you don't regret them because you never which of it could be your last conversation with someone.
2) Time spent with family is precious. You are growing older and so are your parents and grand parents. Talk with them whenever you have time, else you will never know when there will be this huge difference in perspective between yours and theirs, which will only make life difficult in coming times for either side. And trust me, you will get to learn something out of every conversation.. for no matter what, they have seen more world than you.
3) What you read and what you watch plays an important part in shaping up the kind of person you are to become. Make sure you choose your read list and watchlist carefully. (Try avoiding salman khan movies)
4) Don't be judgemental. Let people do whatever they want to do, wear whatever they want to wear, eat whatever they want to eat. As long as it is not hurting anyone, let it be. No one is ever completely right, or wrong. Neither are you or them, nor are the ones who preach about right and wrong. Try being empathetic.
5) All of us have our own therapy that helps us calm ourselves down. For me it is painting. It could be writing or cooking or reading or may be anything else for you. Make sure you figure out yours, because it helps a lot. Art can do wonders, it can take your mind and soul to places that you cannot even imagine. Art works better than any medicine.
6) Trust is an important thing. Make sure you don't regret where and on whom you place your trust. People are cruel, sometimes as cruel as you, sometimes even more. Be wise.
7) People might hear a lot, but they listen what they want to listen to, they believe what they want to believe and they see what they want to see. So make sure you tell your story to the right people. For you never know how the wrong ones are going to carry forward the story.
8) We all create stories in our head. We all are the heroes of our stories, but just know that not every story needs a villain. Don't forcefully defame someone and make him the villain just to glorify the hero. Because people love glorifying stories and and they love to hate and criticise. They will hate him more than they will love you.
9) World is a beautiful place, and love makes it more beautiful. Try understanding what love really is. It is not just romantic, it has lots of dimensions to it. Seek for the right kind of love in the right places, life will get easier.
10) Self love is important. Before you try loving somebody, make sure you love yourself in the proper way.
11) There is no perfect time to fall for love. So if love finds its way into your life, embrace it. If it really is love, it is meant to heal you. Don't let it go, you will regret way more than you can imagine.
12) Don't argue with someone who thinks supporting the government makes him a patriot. Just say those three magical words and walk away.
13) Religion plays an important role in our world (specially in my country). Just know that you can love and respect your religion without defaming somebody else's. Don't fall for a political propaganda.
14) What is right is right and what is wrong is wrong. Learn to accept the fact that you can be on the wrong side of things as well, and it is totally alright and you can always apologise.
15) Social media is a beautiful hoax. Never prioritise it. When you are in a moment, live it.. don't waste it by taking pictures after pictures. A picture in your heart is worth a million in your phone's gallery.
16) Stay away from people who make you believe that you cannot be loved. Stay away from those who LOVE TALKING ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE. Not everyone deserves an explanation. Don't waste your words.
17) Mirakee is one amazing place. It has helped me, and surely to most of it's members in lots of ways. It has helped me get over lots of tough nights, it has helped me write in a way I never knew I could. It is a beautiful habit, but make sure it stays as a habit, try not making it an addiction.
18) After you get through your initial phase in mirakee, you slowly become a part of the family, and that is when the eminence steps in. Make sure you write for yourself, make sure you focus on what you want to write and not what people want to read. This place is like a home to you, and me and lots of others.. keep this place clean.
19) You will come across new people everyday. Just be wise and carefully choose the people who you decide to keep around you (not just in mirakee). Eight out of ten hands are for shaking, not for holding.
20) Covid-19 virus was a curse to the entire world. We all have lost people and time, and life hasn't been much kind in last eight-ten months. Make sure you never forget it or what it has taught you. So that ten years from now when you look back, you can thank 2020 for making you wise and showing you that even the darkest of nights end and life goes on, no matter who or what is left behind.
I wish I could write a poem. one where words fall into a rhyme to take your breath away. it may not make sense to many but I know you would understand.
like a starry night
I've been told that people are like poems. I can write a letter then another and a few more to a word to a line to some metaphors but I wonder if it ever will look like you.
perhaps you aren't a poem that fit so well on some white sheet for a stranger to read. you are stories of countless lives that feels like one, the stories wind carries on December nights.
aren't we all are some mistakes that need some correction? moving a little forward to catch a little breath.
I cannot tell how many stars have been died since the last time I wrote to you it looks so different but you would understand.
do you ever miss the stars that aren't there anymore, or does it scares you that they don't care about what you write about?
maybe people aren't poems, but stars that you write about from afar you only miss the ones that you write about.
maybe it is all our futile attempt to find a meaning to an existence that exists for a moment then drift afar.
I wish I could write but you would understand.
are words enough to tell what you feel, or the flickering lights up above are enough on a silent night? how would you know when I die if all you could hear is this familiar silence that the wind carries, would you feel the melancholy when the wind caress your skin, or would you look for warmth and wonder about the stars?
I wonder what you would write on a night like this, where the wind is a little too cold. but you always loved the snow that fall a little late a little far.
if you could be anywhere where would you go one among the stars or some lines on a white sheet?
I wish I could write, but I can't, I know you would understand.
Okay. Happy New Year in Advance. Wasn't really sure if the format made any sense but since Raika and Siddharth are there, no worries ❤️ My original plan was after yesterday's post I'd post this directly. But chaheti wanted me to write a special post as 200th.
@poeticgirl poetrify @mirakee thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. Although you'd already made my days to come with that hurricane of likes XD I have screen recorded it ❤️ Thank you for the 4th one.