samswan

stumble and fall in the snowy crawl !

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  • samswan 1d

    #lanturn : a descriptive japanese poetry of lantern shape of 5 years having 1:2:3:4:1 syllables.
    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod

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    Red Ink

    The
    red ink
    menstruates
    divinity
    cords.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 1w

    #kimo @writersnetwork @mirakee
    Kimo - An Israeli version of haiku
    10:7:6 syllables

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    The Fall

    The fall of dripping petals and my words
    vibrate with eachother as
    their meanings dive in air.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 1w

    LIBERATE YOURSELF

    March along the valley
    and plateau of jolly
    and grievances, carrying sack
    of sandy memories back
    to the shore of past
    where their beauty will last
    forever.

    Swallow the poison
    of your lost mission
    of love,
    as it flew away like a dove.
    May your love never end
    as your heart is now a blend
    of pleasure and betrayal.

    Out from the ware
    of anxiety, you dare
    not to soak the tears
    as the registered years
    of melancholy are lost
    and harmony worth cost
    for you are awake now.
    -Samiksha
    @writersnetwork @mirakee #ceesrepost #pod

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    LIBERATE YOURSELF

    May your love never end
    as your heart is now a blend
    of pleasure and betrayal.

    (Please read the caption)
    ©samswan

  • samswan 2w

    Charisma of Candle

    Capricious darkness haunted
    clumsily wrapped silence ,
    casting rings of shadows,
    carrying hidden secrets where
    candle surmounted evil spells,
    collided to enlighten human will
    converging the charisma of flames.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 2w

    SACRED WORKMANSHIP

    When the world is half asleep,
    he grabs his sword and leaps
    down the valley, where mistful fog
    breathes. His sword sings the song,
    brandishing chorus to keep his motivation,
    making his every drop of perspiration
    count. Resolute was he to wipe out
    all hindrances, to walk and scout
    on the draconian traces of hardship.
    His inviolable cartilage entwines sacred
    workmanship against all odds and warship.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 3w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod
    Sorry.. if it sounds negative.. don't mean to hurt anybody's emotions or feelings..

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    Another Year on the Calendar.

    A great sigh of relief. Isn't it? Another year is dead, the days are buried in graves, the hours slipped like sand from our hands, white flowers beside the graves to put up an act of mourning but hardly did we learn any lessons.

    2018, patronized itself just like its ancestors and foetus of 2019, has already taken birth.
    Open the envelope of last year, flashback...
    do you spot yourself in the same scene as you are today, receiving and wishing others the greetings for new year, which is actually another year in the blue sphere.
    Close the envelope, come out of the trance.
    Welcome to the present, find your this year's diary which is similar to that of the last one's, which resembled its previous one, there is no change except in the digit at one's place; which is '9' this time. Now retrospect before spilling the ink on the very first, pristine page of the year; was last year happy and new as these bundles of wishes incorporated? And to what extent are you expecting this year to unwrap happiness and juvenile scripts to come your way...don't forget your mother still cooks the curry with the same spices whether it's 2011, 2019 or 2030, you'll be loved by her as always.
    Oh! dear ones, we all know that the second diwali by which you polluted the lungs of mother earth once again during astral night, under the label of 'celebration' won't sustain across the board. The alpha and omega of this year will be no different than that of the previous one's. Instead it is better to breathe the tenderness of each floating moments with calmness in our nostrils while raising our arms to heaven but we act as if we have ants in our pants .
    Without batting an eye, I am sure, sooner or later we all will realise that this is an another proceeding year of the last one, which brings rare changes except in statistics and changing political powers. Followed by the custom, this year will also contribute another 82 million to this human race at an average rate of 1.07%. It is high time, that we understand that it's like beating a dead horse, by fits and starts we'll resume United Nations Security Council elections, Algerian presidential elections, North Korea's general elections and so on and so forth.
    We should better wake up from our utopias in which we perform a ritual from the dawn of 1January till dusk every year and walk on the aisle of life with practical senses. Let us remove our blindfolds and stop counting the stars in the sky rather discover ourselves, hidden in the fallen leaves of autumn and through alchemy polish our actions.

    My dear friends, I am sure by the time you'll be halfway of the ocean of 2019, 2018 will be mocking at you because that's what you do each year , celebrate at its inception and condemn at its completion. Therefore, there is nothing to be happy or sad , new or old about this year or the previous one, or the one before that or the coming 2020, they are just another years, proceeding the last ones.

    I wish my words have given you food for thought.
    Be it 2019 or 2040 they'll be just another years on the calendars.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 3w

    @mirakee @writersnetwork #goodbye #pod
    A special thanks to all mirakeans and mirakee ofcourse, fr their love and support.. Thank you !

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    LAST PAGE

    As I say goodbye to 2018, I look back at the most memorable moments of my school life which departed , as the scenes rolled on the film of life and then faded away as the prisoners of past in March 2018. At the beginning of this very year: 2018, the pages were vacant, fresh and inexperienced but as the days strolled by, the ink of lively moments of happiness , joy, togetherness, grief, reality and lessons bleeded on these pages. Just like this, the dairy of the year came on its last page. Or merely today is the last page.

    While my limbs are in the most relaxing state, the brain is on the fastest motion of its thinking pace, although I wonder if those stained pages have taught me something? And if they did, then instead of reminiscing those well spent days with friends during classes and outside spicy chats, with dews of tears, I should bid them farewell with a smile; as the corners of my mouth slightly curve. And treasure them at the abyss of my heart.
    These moments depositing sediments of unforgettable teachings, clad my bones as the sky clads the chest of the Earth and bind every inch of my soul to those lively experiences. Each moment with its irreplaceable space and time fills the the RAM (Random Access Memory) of my mind, which are precisely acted by precious characters of my life.
    I cannot manifest all my emotions without elucidating the different seasons' blossoms who offered me dramatic cocktails of life; reminding me that after each of their fall and merge to the origin , a new bud will bloom next morning, perfuming new fragrance of refreshment in the air.
    So, let the curtains of this year fall with the legacy of their curves and let them rise again with the dawn of next year on the same stage of our lives.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 3w

    Let Earth Regain

    This earth is no more blue,
    green is scarce, hue
    of the sky remind
    of deadly scar. Rewind
    politics is poisonous
    like before, harmonious
    symphonies are lost
    and we as beings are frost.

    Can we rise in a rebirth
    as an arm of the ocean called firth?
    Can our different rivulet paths
    wash away our sins with heavenly baths?
    Can we all AGAIN
    make this earth regain
    the beauty that it bestows
    and hold solemn vows
    to revive the aspirations
    of Gandhi into our realisations.
    Embrace eachother in the arms
    of fraternity and drop scary arms.
    Once AGAIN
    let earth regain
    all the pristine peace
    in one lease.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 3w

    Crimsoned Petals

    Crimsoned petals on earth,
    cushioned the sturdy crust,
    created a tiara of million worth,
    carbonized the buds to burst.

    Renewed with their essence,
    rivulet of monochromatic flow
    reversed into polychromatic presence,
    ruptured by the petals into lucid glow.

    Euphony brushed by anther,
    erased the cacophony of separation,
    engrossed was the story of feather,
    embraced by the pollens of unification.

    Universe of this vermilion,
    unforgettable vision on the chest
    unearthed once in a billion,
    untied the knots of heavenly zest.
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan

  • samswan 4w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod #ceesrepost #writerstolli
    Just to spread the significance of those ringing bells of Christmas .
    Merry Christmas to all !

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    THE BELLS

    Graved in the sphere
    of mist, a distant
    voice fabricating an aura of cheer,
    surmounted the hesitant
    glare of the spectators.
    Magnetizing them to follow
    the path of the orator.
    Abandoning the wide hollow
    tunnels of fears,
    swallowing the baptized sip of beer.

    The distant voice
    was vibrated by twinning
    bells prolonging the wavelength of rejoice.
    Hitting the eardrum, silencing
    the epicenter of negativity
    and letting the positivity
    of forgiveness float,
    in its every ring,
    like the Evangelist's coat
    which spreads its wing.

    The ring of bells collided
    with the beds of air
    bursting the vapours
    of colourful happiness.
    So that the message
    from heaven
    could be woven
    in the arteries of our heart!
    -Samiksha
    ©samswan