Mirakee
cascading red fluids
scratches down the knees
wounds in the chest
marks over the countenance
but hopes and desires
all burried down the core
you walk up straight
to save us
sacrificing that
last breath of yours
|| you are a soldier ||
hearkening to criticized words
you still reside behind those
locked up medical rooms
swelling up your eyes
being fixed on the body
of the victims
all day long
to give them a new life
|| you are a doctor ||
lifting bundles of
powerful words
to manifest a society
that's being dreamt of,
voices all cracked
to go against those
fragmentation of laws
your heart is owned
by all
|| you are a social worker ||
many more robust voyages
of uv rays
falls on your back
still you remain like toys
coursing in grains of green
to crowd this abdomens
with meals for our survival
days and nights for our cuisines
you work hard
manifesting lives
of sapiens
existing on this
ethereal earth
|| you are a farmer ||
fragrances of withered petals
from torn folios underneath
the pillow drenched in
salty water,
wizened blood
that cascades whispering
tales of
secreted cicatrix
and flavours of love
that you have
savoured so far
resides in the flow
of stygian ink
in memoirs that hides
in sprinkles of souvenir
giving sapiens
an artefact they can
relate their
chronicles upon
|| you are a poet ||
pulchritudinous countenance
cramped with alluring smiles
concealing sweat and blood
for the exuberance of ours
you fabricate a life
beyond our fantasies
you are graced as the most
sacrificing human beings
whose absence would
never bestow
our existence
|| you are a parent ||
©suranjana__
suranjana__
Sudarshana Sarma On a break for a long time��
-
suranjana__
1w
Read More#wod #giving #suwn
@writersnetwork hola! thank you so much wn for such a beautiful surprise. me loves you ಥ‿ಥ♥️(5)
@mirakee hola!
highly inspired by @love_whispererr recent post♥️
so beautiful it was(╥﹏╥) -
suranjana__
1w
you're like a song
that only manifests
scratches in those
spongy lips of mine,
along the cascading action
of red fluids
and nothing more
i just want to remember
then the sins you always
maintained to perform
resulting in fragmentation
of my core.
would you stop
playing strings of guitar
in my physique
with robust fingers that were
all yours
covering my mouth
so echoes can't have a voyage
out the door?
the torn hairs from scalp of mine
still fondles with the withered blood
that resides in thy
mezzanine floor
of the stygian vaulted space.
catastrophic night
was all i found to define
the time
when countenance of mine
was whispering lullabies
for a trickster to vacate this
authentic soul
but,
the being
circulating trauma
in the naked body
of mine
just had earbuds
clutched
inside.
and no more my
anatomy could
swallow globules of
red shaded fluid,
swig large gulps
of fear and anxiety
and inhale
hazed fumes of
your thrown out
cigar
and
pathetically
died along with
hopes and desires
all fragmentary.
©suranjana__ -
suranjana__
1w
Read More
[ A TETRACTYS POEM ]
#wn #tetractys :) A repost!
#temp
@writersnetwork editor's choice? rulaoge kya
(╥﹏╥)He's
Gazing
At her eyes
Despite of those
Oodles of stars residing in cosmos.
suranjana__ -
suranjana__
2w
Read More
is this making any sense my fellow mirakeeans?
here ' i ' refers to the sky.
#skyfearc #question #wn #mirakee #pod
#subay
@writersnetwork :)
@mirakee :) you all means to me so much��♥️
@writersbay thank you so much bay for the kind repost. me loves you^_________^��♥️(2)
@piyuldwivedi @tamanna3 @raika_ @redolent_smile @thousand_splendid_thoughts @diaryticko a read mates^_________^// what if the sky one day withers just like a leaflet that once cascaded it's cerulean anatomy while concealing it's agony she receives when scars of grey is all that rules over her physique? //
all i fear for is
if the shades
manifested by
blue angels
fades away
and tints of
black is all
that rules
over the
p l a c e.
all i fear for is
if blurs were not
of nature in the
form of fog
and were of
s m o g.
all i fear for is
if the waterfall of
love and care
would i receive
depends on the
colours i
p o u r.
all i fear for is
if the answer
turns out to
be a yes
when i ask
won't you
accept me if
my cotton candies
starts bursting
in the caelum
with textures of
g r e y.
all i fear for is
if the stars near me
would stop
offering me light
which i need the most
while darkness
is all that prevails
around my
p h y s i q u e.
all i fear for is
whether the sun
would stop
fondling while
stroking its fingers
around my
s o u l.
all i fear for is
if the sapiens
in this ethereal earth
for their twinkle
in the countenance
would lit crackers
in the cerulean
bedsheet
with gestures
of hazed
f u m e s.
and even though
fears cramped
around my epitome
won't efface
i would still make you
perceive me being
a naked soul with.
phobia all
c o n c e a l e d.
©suranjana__ -
suranjana__
2w
Read More
@writersnetwork:)) You made me smile and cry
^_________^(╥﹏╥)(3) #suwn
Love you a lot ♥️
@mirakee
#podChrysanthemums call me later, now let me get busy in representing other
companions of your. Bye!!!
Alstroemeria make me like you
Representing fortune , devotion and friendship.
Your anatomy in a wide variety of shades of
Undyed, pink, orange , yellow makes
Each individual keep deep interest on you.
Amaryllis make me like you
Symbolising pride, determination and radiant beauty.
Your versatility and packing of a big punch
With several show stopping blooms on each stem
Makes everyone glimpse at the sparkle you flash.
Bird of Paradise make me like you
Representing joy, faithfulness and love.
You are indeed magical as when you bloom
You come up with 3 vibrant orange petals
And 3 blue ones resembling like a bird's beak
Making everyone confuse.
Daisies make me like you
Symbolising new beginning and innocence.
Your gorgeous physique
With different varieties of shades making you
Stand out when combined with other accent flowers.
Sunflower make me like you
Representing warmth, adoration and dedication
To love. You look amazing when viewed but more
You look beautiful when comes in freindzone
With other flowers around.
Baby's breathe make me like you
Showing everlasting love and purity.
Each stem of yours has a spray of
Many tiny white blooms
Giving you the appearance of million stars
Makes my face awestruck by you.
Tulips make me like you
Symbolising positivity wherever I go.
And letting me believe in myself
And making me happy
For ever after.
But hey dear chrysanthemums
I know you are too beautiful and gorgeous
But sorry I don't want to resemble you now
Representing death like bunch of black roses.
Everyone dies one day but wants to die happily
So for now I will represent only your friends
After death don't forget to call me
To take the place of yours
In these orb special for me.
I need your help to make everyone keep me
As a reminiscence in their house
By planting you so that they remember
Every memory of mine with them
By gently touching those petals of yours.
suranjana__ -
suranjana__
3w
Read More
#farewell #endc #wn #pod
@writersnetwork @mirakee i don't even know why i tagged you? (╥﹏╥)
@writersbay
Ending my #dynamicdecember
#writersblock don't really know what did I just write
@piyuldwivedi apun aa gaya swagat nehi karoge��
��good bye to the past that weaved only threads of silk that was manifested by scratches and wounds dried up long ago. no more a knitted sweater i shall wore upon a physique that agitated for its dark shades of black and brown scars. the pillow would now be fresh presenting me a comfort sleep not the one which was drenched in iotas of salt rolling off the cheeks with utmost pressure by edges of the eyes that deceased. and not screams of my own would i listen to but the chirping of nightingales. fragrances of blood cascading from fist and scars that didn't tend to dry up would not surround me and the dark vault but there would be undyed jasmines that would course with nebulous love. torn folios that was cramped with lost love and cobwebs with sprinkles of tiny dust molecules would now have appearances that are vivid and of fluorescence. the heart would no longer now only be filled with deoxygenated blood composed of miseries and thoughts malignant but the core would only have saudade of love magical.
won't i be free then. won't i find the longing happiness that once got lost in the dense canopies that catastrophic night. won't the sunshine feel cosy to gaze at this pulchritudinous countenance of mine. now swirling of my index finger on the pavement of mist would surely pour a perfect shape and the dew that once felt uncomfortable 'cause of my stroke of fingers would now linger on my hands yawning for a touch. won't i then be living as a homo sapien for real. and won't it be a positive zeal that would enclose the cynical hypothesis giving them an end.
©suranjana__ -
suranjana__
6w
Read More
A repost. The other one got deleted accidentally �� Luckily I found it was saved.
Will be back soon on 23rd��
In editor's choice???
love you ♥️@writersnetwork @mirakee
#pod #wn #dynamicdecemberSurvivor And Warrior
Being an infant
In my mother's big abdomen
I heard all the screams of our kinsfolk,
Drafting for my demise before my existence
Into a world I desired of merrily inhabiting.
I kept on questioning mother with a knock
That, is the world so cruel?
" Yes ! " was her reply.
Being a kid
After a long voyage with barriers
That mother erected for escorting me out,
I was often given pessimistic speadbreakers
In the path leading to my magical fairytales,
Crowded with robust desires and hopes
By letting me hear to the same idioms
A girl can't dream!
Being a teenager
I was compelled to seal my soft lips
When shades of black was embraced,
Whenever I was harassed, left torn apart for
Just being who I desire to be and that's a girl.
My heart was made fragile with scars
Engulfing my anatomy and edges of
The mind cramped with fantasy.
Being a survivor
After hastening eclipse o'clocks
And threats of being a deceased epitome
I approached with a revival for fabricating
My fragmented pieces of fragile core with
adhesive tapes of courage and strength,
Being the ink in my torn folios I
Perpetually swirled with hopes.
Being a warrior
I devastated the evil facades
Veiling in the corners of dark alleys
And elevated views against the sapiens who
Tortured her in mother's gigantic cute womb.
Girl who resided in edge of vacated room
Smiled when she left her anxiety and
woke as the only Crown.
suranjana__ -
suranjana__
8w
Read More
And all of a sudden the whole of woodland
altered and naked it's physiognomy by
benevolently unsealing it's fabrics of salmon
and reddish shades. Being an alluring bride
the days of last segment now wears a gown
of undyed texture. Inhaling hibernal light air
the nature covers the foliage with puffs of ice
and the cumulonimbus clouds descends
pollet of frozen rain.
Whispering beneath those trunks of woodland
the zephyr scribbles down chronicles of
hexagonal flakes. Flakes that always were
tugged in the caelum's side pocket. The
streaks of light gazed at those little fairies
whirling their clumpsy physiques with
feathers unlatched and a mouth yawning to
gesture the dawn's crack with alluring
snowflakes. Butterflies all in line being ready
to have a bath of different shades and
crowding near leaflets to carry out icy cotton
candies on their chitinous membrane.
Myriads and myriads of termites by the
woolen trunks of trees crossing junctions of
five encounters in the holes of trunks to have
tiny fragments of three days chocolate.
Verbenas of light mauve textures walking with
families near the peripheries of lawns
cramped by frosty coverlet. While asters of
contrasting tints snatches souls of
bumblebees and papilio through its elegance.
Tunes through bamboo trunks of unsteady
zephyr and lullabies of nightingales for their
mates encircles the december's o'clocks of
shorter days and longer nights recollects
bygone memories all fabricated. Days all
short with little appearance of sun's shafts all
warm and little angels roaming nearby the
florets of magical odours. Nights all long with
prolong instances embracing each chants of
birds of dead nights and arora of blossoms
spreading thousand splendid thoughts of
rhythmical days.
And the though cold and pale but fragile and
pulchritudinous winter of december enfolds
fantasies that are scripted in volumes long
aback.
©suranjana__
@mirakee @writersnetwork
#pod#flakesc#wn#mirakee
@thousand_splendid_thoughts 'cuz I used your username����
@saya__ lo kar liya�� but the result seems to be no good��
Starting my #dynamicdecember ⊙﹏⊙Ćurtªiñs öf Dėčęmbēr
-
suranjana__
8w
Read More
The words I used were: Poems, strings, thousands, heartbeat and promise.
I will reply to all your beautiful comments soon����Bhul maat jana��
@writersnetwork thank you for your ♥️
But it hurts ��
@mirakee
#bingoc #pod #wn#norturingnovember
Does it make sense?⊙﹏⊙
Thank you @writersbay for the kind repost. My first time��♥️(1) #subayAND FEW...
AND FEW words of mine
remained unsaid that
concealed beaneath
those encounter of our withered lips.
AND FEW half scribbled poems of mine
resided in the peripheries of
chronicles submerged in dust that
whispered stories incomplete
at nights beside my tympanic membranes.
AND FEW strings of the ukulele
that once were used to make me fall asleep
in the broad chest of his
with lullabies sung all scripted by him
now,
were espied being shattered
beside those gaps of my spongy couch
and lone wardrobes.
AND FEW heartbeats of mine
manifested a desire in my cerebrum
to ponder how a thousand miles away
I found a heart,
the only shelter for my soul
which chanted memories only of you
and ended up reciting songs of death
which secreted your bequeath.
AND FEW bogus promises of yours
left naked marine drops
descending from the optics of mine
to get sun-baked
for the sake of my fragile core
to no longer lacerate.
©suranjana__ -
And there she aligns those torn folios that once flawlessly inhabited in the chronicles of her lost love and scribbles down the verses manifested by those withered yet pulchritudinous scars.
©suranjana__
-
.
-
finnisam
5d
Things Being Different
The fig tree withers — I look on with a sad sense of satisfaction,
reluctant to accept its death. Afraid of understanding what this means
I cast my eyes upon the sky, whisper something
and move on.
Pagan statues of Venus are smashed as this revelation comes to pass,
an unknown God, being God, of course — replaces Her.
Unsure if I should smile or weep, I shut myself in a cage of calmness
so that I might pretend to be other than what I am,
to deny something, to deny everything, to be wholly someone else
is a destiny shaped by the fig tree — sadly withered.
Odd folk tales still remain of those old beliefs, of a reflection
that one could not separate himself from — I see no reflection.
Only something that could be had I reached out to touch it — I merely stared
and died in this staring,
this contemplation of what could be,
what was not.
A statue of Venus fell before my feet, beautiful and unappealing,
figs lost their sweet taste...
I found that I could only think — think about
things being different.
©finnisam -
opia__
5d
Read MoreHeavy bones carrying a heavier heart,
heaving with the effort of hauling something
too inane to hold at all.
A lost love for crafting teases,
pricks with persistent paper cuts;
Memories of a lewd lover
sculpting vague renditions of Venus
for the plastic applause of her insincere voyeur
wages a civil war unspoken;
Where has my sense gone?
I wish I could come back to my senses;
I wish I could lose taste for all of my senses;
I wish I could wish upon a star to make sense of these wishes.
I smile wider, still; I laugh for no reason at all;
Yesterday, I couldn’t stop laughing at
the thought of you and I dancing to George Michael
lamenting to his love from a Christmas past.
Maybe I am misery on a quest for the miserable?
Perhaps, I am just jaded, weary of love before love could even be found.
Where has my love for love gone?
Yesterday, I cried for I can’t help realising that I exist for no purpose at all;
The pot at the end of the rainbow evades like a treacherous mistress, like a slippery sliver of sensibility.
They tell me I should worship the weary path instead.
Should I savour all that I have till I have nothing at all?
Dust to dust and water to water,
Should I relish the glory of this dawn as I wait like the
rest - wait for the dusk as it looms for us all?
The accomplished say that the destiny is a deconstructed ray of light,
Seeking seperation for my sake alone,
Subsisting beautifully for my eyes alone;
What is beauty if not a wonder for the unbound?
Should I learn to hone a love for the silence,
the kind that sears and sizzles as it burns so loud?
Should I learn to tango, only to tango in the dark,
to beats so loud that they leave no room for an exchange of expectations - expectations prematurely pronounced?
I am learning to laugh for no reason at all,
Should I laugh so loud that I cannot hear the why’s and the how’s of my unassuming heart?
"Out of sight, out of mind!" they say;
And I wonder, I wonder -
Where has my love gone?
©opia__
@writersnetwork
Picture by me.oh, wonder.
-
_luvnotz_outpost
4d
Read More��THIS CHALLENGE IS CLOSED��
*Please spend some time supporting your fellow participants by checking out their submissions. You can easily locate them by clicking on the challenge hashtag: #cees_soj_chall
#mirakee #writersnetwork #challenge #topicprompt #sojourn #sojourner▪CHALLENGE NOW CLOSED▪
Due to the coronavirus and the subsequent pandemic induced quarantine, people everywhere have been more or less sequestered in their home sweet homes for months on end now. And as much as we may love our homes, it sure would be nice to get away for a brief sojourn, wouldn't it? I figured you might agree, so I've gone ahead and made that term the topic of the challenge. Keep on reading for challenge rules and futher information.
▪First and foremost, what is a sojourn??
In its noun form, a *sojourn* is defined as "a temporary stay." So, kinda like a weekend getaway perhaps.
In the verb form, *sojourn* means "to stay somewhere temporarily."
Additionally, the term *sojourner* refers to "a person who resides temporarily in a place."
Now that we know what the word means, here's what you need to do with it...
▪RULES:
-Write a poetic piece of 40 lines or less on the topic of a "sojourn," or a "sojourner."
-It can be literal or metaphorical.
-One submission per person.
-Please pen in English only.
-Submit your piece within 48 hours. Do not submit once it says "2d" in the upper right hand corner of this post.
-NO plagiarized work will be accepted.
-NO posts containing foul language, cuss words, obscenities, hate speech, harassment, nudity, or otherwise inappropriate language or images will be accepted.
-If uncertain, you can check with me, or refer to the community guidelines of Mirakee by clicking on the gear icon located at the top right side of your account screen.
MANDATORY HASHTAG: The hashtag for this challenge is #cees_soj_chall. Please be sure to put it in your caption area.
Ok, happy writing! ✍ -
soulfulstirrings
5d
Read MoreNo artist can match the magic that unfolds each morn and evening as colours fuse and splash breathtakingly on the sky's canvas .
Refer -
Mould - distinctive and typical style, form, or character.
#mmvc @writersbay @odysseus @sumana_chakraborty @preetkanwal
Image credit to the rightful owner .Sky's Atelier
Sanguine hues
Splash on blues
Painting views
That imbue
Beauty true
Art unfolds
With tints gold
And strokes bold
Unique mould
I behold
©soulfulstirrings -
mirakee
5d
Read More
Though most of us can easily picture a dragon, our ideas and descriptions of dragons may be completely different.
Some dragons are gentle and friendly; others may be ferocious and fearsome. Some dragons have wings; others don't. Some dragons can speak or breathe fire; others can't. Some live in palaces under the ocean, others in caves and mountains.
Which aspect of the “dragon” fascinates you the most? Create a piece about it.
Tag with #dragons and share.
#wodDo you like dragons?
-
writersbay
5d
.
-
jerry_21
1w
Read MoreIn stars, I have seen a tremendous universe of memories, blanketed under their pearly glow. Nothing has ever beguiled me the way they do. I spread my arms, say infinity and they fall. I smile and cry, all at once, but it feels like you are embracing me. Are you in the stars or the agony of their collapse?
In pain, I have seen faded colors of happiness with which I paint my soul blue but it turns all gray. The only thing left is shattered pieces of my heart which hurts at joyous moments. And the thing about ravaging is that you are never going to be the same again. It will reshape you into the person you never wanted to be.
In poetry, I have seen a forever lurked beneath the verses and metaphors of suffering. There is always a way out of this maze of life, hidden in the complexity of words. Poets are the most fortunate people because they have the power to make the world feel something that doesn't even exist.
~ sifar
@_firefly I wanted to write something else, but it turns out completely different from it. ;_;
@writersnetwork humko tumse hogya hai pyaar kya kare. bolo to jeeye, bolo toh mar jaaye 🙈
Thank you :”) ❤️.
-
jiniaa
1w
Read MoreSometimes, destiny is too cruel with its intentions. Other times, Cupid takes a special interest in your story. Most of the times, love drifts away. And love takes away some trivial things from you, leaving behind gigantic imprints. Love for me is watching him from across the street, playing cricket with his younger cousins and losing a wicket willingly to make them happy. Love for me is praying for his safety and success at each crucial point of his life when he is hurdled close to confusion, grief and responsibilities. Love for me is smiling at his messy room and the unused guitar laying in a corner, just like the neatly tucked dreams of him that he stopped reaching out for. Love for me is never being able to love another face, another beard, another head with hair as soft as a baby's. Love for me is letting him have all the joy and happiness of my part. Love for me is to let him go because he deserves so much more than me. Love for me is sitting alone in my closed room and dabbing ointment on the wounds he left in my heart ; love for me is loving the scars which those wounds made. Love for me is another human being. Love for me is giving up twice my world for that one smile on his pious face.
// I have found a natural drug for all of my panic, anxiety and anger. It's his voice, it's him. And I dare you to find another who loves him like I do. //
©Jinia.
-
fajr_fajr
1w
[A G E - 7]
✿ The time you were supposed to be running around in open grounds playing with your cousins, and scolded by your mom because the sky was slowly turning it's red hues into pink, then orange, then yellow and finally the stars were covering the sky, and the crescent moon was secretly telling your mom that it's late. The kid must be home before it's dark.
Instead, you were locked in a room, full of lights, lights that hurt your teary eyes, and your father's cousin brother was throwing you on the couch, his body milky white, ugly, his trunk so strong that it terrified your poor soul. Suddenly the room turns pitch black, all the lights were gone, you closed your eyes and he leaves you there. Once again. Devastated. Ripped apart.
You get yourself back together, before your parents get home and blame you for all the marks.
[A G E - 10]
✿ When you were supposed to join the football club with your brother because it was your favourite sport as a child and the only thing that made you happy.
Instead, you started bleeding on your way back home from school, and your mom started scolding you for getting your periods this early.
" Mom, why is their blood on my trousers, am i dying? "
" I told you to eat healthy and stay active, you are too young for menarche ".
" But am i going to bleed continuously for life ? "
" No. I'll explain everything ".
" I'm scared mom. "
" Don't be. It's normal. "
Mom, What else is " normal " ?
[A G E -16]
✿ When you were supposed to experience your first love, the time when all your friends were falling for this beautiful labyrinth of love, where you could see their faces glowing with happiness, and their eyes shining with hope. They lived, laughed and loved. You wished to experience love too.
Instead, you were laying in your bed, which was dragging you in every morning, you were fighting the urge to die. You were crying, screaming, dying. Anxiety was slowly eating you up, each cell in your body was wilting. Your therapist told you that it's okay not to be okay. He told you that life brings each one of us to a point where even breathing hurts. He was right. Breathing was so painful. Something inside of my body was being twisted. Something inside of me was being Coiled. Contracted. Crushed. Collapsed. Clenched. Crumbled. He was right when he said that everything ends. Pain ends too.
But what he didn't know was, it leaves eternal void in our existence, that cannot be filled. Not even with love.
[A G E - 18]
✿ When you were supposed to be responsible. Mature. Grown up. A happy and kind human being.
Instead, you turned into an evil person with good intentions but bad actions. You were hungry for love, looking for love selfishly, you started hurting people to the point where healing for them was excruciatingly painful. You failed to give and receive love.
You started pushing people away, because you were so full of thorns, anyone who came near you was left with deep bruises. Anyone who tried to love you was bleeding.
- fajr
