Hello Mirakee friends! Just checking in. Miss you all. I've had to
take some time away. I had another fall, with more severe injuries.
Fractured wrist and a couple of ribs...scrapes and bruises. The
pain has been too much to push through. Guess I need to concentrate
on healing. I wish I could read your pieces, or write myself.
But, I just don't have the strength.
Take good care!! I'll be back soon
crogers180
-
-
He had the charm of a rodeo cowboy,
but, underneath, he was the bronco that
could not be tamed.
©crogers180 -
crogers180 2w
Freedom
There were bones and
There was blood,
Long since laid and stained,
Remnants of what the
Earth could not consume
Of a valour the war had claimed.
Nobility and honour
Met horror on the lines ~
History in poetry, art and song,
Principles that bind, that
Justice bears no prejudice,
And freedom's worth a fight
To the finish, to the victory
Of all that's wrong made
Right.
©crogers180 -
crogers180 2w
Twenty Year Affair ( with despair )
If I was to sip from your cup again,
Bitter or sweet...would it satisfy
Or would I gulp down remorse
Like a dolled up harlot come Sabbath?
How deep is the seed of purpose,
In the hardest of hearts.
Thirteen years, and I remember still
The scent of your intoxicating venom ~
The kind that stops just short of death,
Over and over again...
Thrilling, and freightening addiction
What craving could compare?
Bacardi and Cola, elixir of choice,
How you burn in my mind as you did
In my throat, in my belly, in my body,
Cold and clammy, thirsty as hell
For the rush of euphoric capture ~
Between passion and possession.
O, lover of mine, I left you behind
In the dust, on my way to deliverance.
For, you were as cruel as you were comfort,
And I missed the connection with life ~
The kind a baby's born to know.
Stolen innocence with each rendezvous.
How could I have known, If only I'd known
That what I thought was love was just a
Twenty year affair with despair?
©crogers180 -
Sycamore Lane
2:am and the lights are out
On Sycamore Lane.
And the rain has come
To drive me home
Where I don't belong.
I'm just a runaway.
Gotta find my way
By the light of the moon.
Drenched and hungry,
Still I keep walking...
And the shivering cold
Only tells me I'm alive.
There is love to buy and
Dope to try on Sycamore.
Could this be it,
Be better than that?
I wonder why and how
It's come to this...
Nothing special anymore,
Frilly dresses lay used up
On the bedroom floor.
Gotta close that door!
Gonna find my way
By the light of the moon.
But, tell me ~
Can I outrun the pain
By walking in the rain
Down Sycamore Lane?
©crogers180 -
crogers180 3w
The body breaks down when it can
No longer bear the weight of the
Heart's burdens.
©crogers180 -
Skeleton
There's a skeleton
On my back,
A haunting presence
Breathing
Down my neck.
Cold chills
I cannot shake.
Breaking free
From the closet,
Oh, there's a skeleton
On my back.
Searing memories,
How they burn
Through these
Thinning garments
Of time
Into my skin
And all its scars.
Breaking down,
I wonder now,
Shall I carry
To my grave,
Secrets buried
In its marrow -
These bones
That show no mercy.
This monstrous,
Ghastly skeleton
On my back.
©crogers180 -
What is grace, but twilight ~
Abating the fall of night,
And what is surely to break
Before dawn.
©crogers180 -
She danced ~
She danced as if
Her soul was on
Fire.
©crogers180 -
Her eyes recited sonnets
And she wore butterflies
In her hair.
©crogers180
-
whitewings 1w
For a moment,
I will stop thinking about you...
and your scars and wounds.
What you did and why you did.
How you must be feeling.
For a moment,
I will think only about me
and my broken dreams.
How heart broken I am.
How deeply I am hurting.
For a moment
I will tend to
only my wounds.
The ones I received
from you.
For a moment
I will let myself hate you,
for your misdeeds,
for the pain and suffering
you inflicted upon me.
For a moment
I will forget,
all the good times we shared.
And I won't judge or stop myself.
Instead, I will accept...
that I feel betrayed
and disappointed.
Not in you...
but my own judgements,
wits and senses.
For a moment
I will grieve,
in silence.
For a moment
I will allow myself to forget,
I did truly love you.
For a moment
I will pretend,
to forgive myself...
for placing my faith,
in a coward like you.
©whitewingsFor a moment
I will pretend,
to forgive myself...
for placing my faith,
in a coward like you.
©whitewings -
sproutedseeds 1w
#wod#flower#mirakee#writersnetwork
@mirakee@writersnetwork
The flowers in a garland
happily get weaved,
amicable with every other flower
some from different families
yet they don't compete with
each other for their beauty
but look complete and contended
Every flower has a story
No flower easily blooms
Lotus grows in dirt
Rose in incomplete with thorns
Growth is tough but
worth to be admired.
Bundled in a bouquet
Admired in a garland
Adorned on an idol in temples
Weaved into wreath laid on the departed soul.
Flowers have their own purpose
in adding beauty to the nature,
also a source of food and for
medicinal uses.
Let it spread its fragrance
in every corner of our life.
©sproutedseeds
05.04.21GARLAND
The flowers in a garland
happily get weaved
amicable with every other flower
some from different families
yet they don't compete with
each other for their beauty
but look complete and contended.
Let it spread its fragrance
in every corner of our life.
©sproutedseeds
05.04.21 -
You dwell in the
recondite heart of
my enigmatical verses,
I belong to the
mystifying chasm of
your naked soul,
Together Darling,
we paint the skyline
with crimson hues of
treasured love
and purple shades of
a life restituted
inditing poetries of
You and I, and our
sempiternal......
©passionbookworm -
When I think of you
My silence shouts
Your blunt memories
Pierce my stone heart
My flowing river
of thoughts get frozen
And my deserted
eyes start raining
©thoughtsprocess -
I'm not a political being,
i couldn't bloom under its
shade of greed and hypocrisy.
I can't fly over the skies
of fake promises and fundamental lies,
where my wings could be easily cut.
I cannot live beneath
fluorescent sun of fake democracy,
I need a clear fresh air of creativity.
I dream of aesthetical,
uncontaminated place
of unconditional freedom,
and innovative ideas
to breathe and create.
©thelunareclipse -
thelunareclipse 2w
Inspired by " Sinner " - SLEEP DEALER
{ I just can't stop listening to this awesome song
}
Pic found on Pinterest.Sinner
His path is
so gloomy
and cursed.
His wings,
once celestial,
now seems
so heavy ,
shrouded in sins.
He wears despair
and endures
his own cross.
Forever exiled,
condemned
to loss.
©thelunareclipse -
thelunareclipse 1w
Don't you ever attach to my soul,
For I'm just a vanishing, pale afterglow,
I'm ephemeral scent of petrichor,
I only could offer you my bleak dawns.
And these illusive, untrustful eyes,
That hide secrets, and tell lies,
They could easily hypnotize
And cover your sight with blinding lights.
Don't you ever put a trust
Into this dishonest, deceitful heart,
'Cause I'm mysterious as obscure night,
Whatever i touch, i lead it to blight.
©thelunareclipse
{ Image found on Pinterest.}.
-
The civilization of poetries between two teacups
Looking at some crotches
of the banyan tree
through the kitchen window
she boils water to make two teacups
for her husband and his friend
Inside those crotches,
some sparrows chirrup
while chewing some grains and
she seals some metaphors
inside the half-boiled water.
~logically muddled
Putting tea and adding hot water
she burns those syllables while clutching
the burner of gas cylinder
Those clouds dawdle
her black hair ruffles
Lappet of her unnoticed gown murmurs
but a fumy sigh affirms its existence
amid of those whistles of a pressure cooker.
~sauntering dead
Steeping the tea for her sweetheart
she looks at some unnoticed speckles
of her hand but those bangles
try hard to hide them again and again
Those pot marigolds twirl
the undyed wind whispers
but her balladries try very hard
to melt inside the lampshade of room lamp.
~crunching up-chuck
Straining those tea solids
she pours hot tea into multicolored tea cups
and walks towards the guest room while
throwing some thoughts and many lexicons
into the fiendish dustbin of the kitchen
A poet drowns again
when the clock hits the half hour
and she plunges off into some deadly phantoms.
~faithful folklore
✿ вι∂уα || with many secluded oxymorons -
ruminativeminds 11w
Who are we
if not for our insecurities
and scars, the dark corners
in our hearts.
a profound sigh
to all that we wish for
that cannot be achieved.
to all that we long for,
& all that we wish to be freed.
the struggle within our selves
and around us, only to live a life
of happiness.
©ruminativeminds -
ak_anjali_daydreamzz 1w
@mirakee @writersnetwork #mirakee #writersnetwork
#oxymoron #wod #pod #ak_wn_repost
All written rights reserved
4 April 2021 12. 05 pm
Thank you so much for repost ❤️ @writersnetwork
/ Oxymoron
- a figure of speech containing words that seem to contradict each other.
- eg used : Blinding light, dark light, bittersweet, deafening silence, walking dead, cold fire , sweet sorrow /
Tales Untold ~
~Blinding lights of false hope
Shooting stars were dark lights
At the tail end of the tunnel
Leading on to nothingness
~Echoes of lies bittersweet
Craving the waves of deceit
As words linked to fallen worlds
Crumbled down like house of cards
~Deafening silence slicing void
Shrieks of whispers whirling in wind
Crunching souls and creeping vibes
Murdering solitude in sunset
~Misfit monstrosity walking dead
Pocket-sized life breathing on as
Nightcrawlers lick cold fire off life
Trust is let loose on minefields
// Tangled webs of sweet sorrow
Lead on life in hopes of morrow //
©ak_anjali_daydreamzzTangled webs of sweet sorrow
Lead on life in hopes of morrow
©ak_anjali_daydreamzz
