©elly____
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elly____ 94w
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elly____ 108w
the last time they have asked for my name
was to write it over my grave
to left it between the tulips and peony
hoping my death to heal
making me wait for the arrival of dandelions forever
when life turned it's last page
and I looked back
to all the pages that I have left blank
I found nothing
but your absence written all over it
(your arrival is still a mirage)
now that
I'm under the grave
counting the times
I have died over your absence
this death seems nothing
but an end to all my deaths
for this grave feels more home
than the thorns of your memories
I have told them
to write your name
over the epitaph of my grave
for I'm nothing
but the last evidence
of your presence and absence
they say
‘time and tide wait for no man'
yet tide returns back everything
devastated, half but there
but time
washes it all away
not returning back a single glance
I wish my death to be time
or time to be my death
not returning back in any way
i remember your way to home
straight from this graveyard
little right from half kilometre away
and I'm waiting for your arrival
Like autumn waits for jasmines
my throat carries the sins of long lost love
I arrant your name more often
gulping down the fears of loving you
and loosing you at the same time
six feet below the ground
When I search for your fragrance
to hold me in it's warm embrace
death gifts me a death
and life holds my little finger
with a silk thread
.
.
~Elly
@mirakeeworld
@writersnetwork #postoftheday©elly____
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elly____ 115w
T.W- DEAR DADDY OR R, IF YOU EVER FIND THIS POEM UNDER MY PILLOW, IN MY WARDROBE OR BETWEEN THE PAGES OF MY FAVOURITE NOVEL,PLEASE KEEP IT ASIDE.KNOW THAT THIS IS THE ONLY SUICIDE LETTER I WAS ABLE TO WRITE. AND STILL IF YOU AREN'T ABLE TO UNDERSTAND IT,PLEASE TEAR IT APART OR THROW IT OVER MY GRAVE.
so it was a summer morning
when I woke up to the
brightest sun in my eyes
and that dying star of the previous night
in my heart
and for the first time
I felt something
underneath my chest
(probably that dying star taking it's last breath)
when I tried to open up
how it feels to Carry a dying star
of last night
inside your heart/soul
waking up to the brightest rays
and trying to soak in the brightness
even though your heart is filled with
the hues of the dying stars
I felt the lack of words
even now
when I'm writing
somewhere the words are getting stuck
and I can barely explain this
depression! a word I hear quite often
some seek therapists
others just choose to be poets
but trust me!!
I have never wished to be a poet
I have never wished to hide my poetries
underneath my tongue, scars, notebooks, pillows or what not!
you can take a tour
and find poetries tucked inside every corner of me.
so daddy!
when I didn't want to be a poet anymore
I chose to come to you
and explained what I feel
and how therapies can help
you put your spects down
kept the book aside
looked at me
and asked me
if anything was wrong
or I'm over thinking
and told me that
everything will get better
(you never mentioned therapists
you never considered my depression)
dear R!
I came to you then
told you how I can't sleep anymore
and how anxiety never lets me in
you told me
how my depression affects you too!
I thought you would help me
but you told me that
you,being away from my life can make me get better with this
so I lied to you
A poet never dies
a natural death
somehow an unfinished poem
gets stuck in his throat
and somewhere between trying to write a poem
and letting it all out
he dies
so this is the last Time
I tried to write my suicide letter
hoping to succeed
I know it won't reach you
but someday may be
when you'll decide to take a tour
know that
Somewhere a poetry got stuck and
I couldn't breathe anymore
May be this is how
I was meant to quit
May be this is how
You're destined to read me
~
Elly
@writersnetwork @mirakee @mirakeeworld #pod #love #postoftheday #writersnetwork©elly____
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elly____ 153w
your name on my skin
smells like flesh and marijuana
tastes like
leftover hopes and a spoonful of hatred
death feels like nerves
scattered everywhere
continuously caressed by salt water and love
peeling off all it layers
one by one
intoxication of memories
inhalation of miseries
your name on my lips
like counting rosary beads
yet not enough of you
and I let it infuse
love lying on the floor,
choking itself to death
and your smile sparkling in my eyes
(that constant distraction)
this suffering serves four
and I'm the only one here
on the voracity of it
love feels like
a half sung prayer
before funeral
the prayer that reaches everywhere
except the one place
that it meant to reach
-the space between us-
the miles that I never counted
the seas I have never crossed
of all that I cared was
the breaths that we never shared
and the moments that were
left alone to die
past carries
the memoirs of my survival
and I here
dying over the paradox
of gunshots and paper cuts
they see
reflection of melancholy in my metaphors
and my moribund verses
detoriating slowly
and I see
a falling star
smiling at me
happy about it's last burning
~Elly
@writersnetwork @mirakee @mirakeeworld #pod #mirakee #writersnetworkintoxication of memories
inhalation of miseries
your name on my lips
like counting rosary beads
©elly____ -
elly____ 166w
perhaps the smiles you sent
have forgotten their way to home
the tears now
scroll down to my cheeks
and search for your name on my lips
your name tastes
something like
war draped in silk
and each time
I take your name
love stays just
a gunshot away
you said
my heart was too heavy
to carry around everywhere you go
so you left it
in the middle of the road
& let it walk alone
for so long I used to
consider it home
the 6 feet deep grave
you buried me inside
I wonder
how many bodies
have shared my soul &
how many times
they have fallen for you !! .
it's scary
how your touch
is craved by my soul
it's like
something on fire
needs soothing
my poetries
never ask for your presence
they never ask for your arrival
your absence has made them barren
it's strange
how time has lost it's parts
tracing your memories
and how I see them as whole
even if I'm scattered
your love
is like a tsunami tide
it came once in a while
and left everything devastated
how can I let them out??
the pain that stings every second
the memories that keep me away from being yours
me living on the false promises you made
the labyrinth of your love
and you !! .
.
my funeral will have your name
in the air
smelling like tulips
& caramelised love
overcoming the rotten smell of my death
decaying with time
there is love
hardly known by some
she may be old
living over the flowers and the thorns
longing for someone to hold her
gentle but not hard
she looks at you
and smiles
.
. -Elly
#writersnetwork #pod #postoftheday #mirakee #writeups @writersnetwork @mirakeeworld @mirakee @iammusaafiir @galaxymilky @asmakhan @geraldine_mary @lovenotes_from_carolyn©elly____
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elly____ 170w
your heart has half submerged itself
long before you have even realised
(the reason why you are a poet)
you see him
in every passerby
you see him
in your own shadow
but have you ever seen him
lying right next to you
demanding you to feel his presence??
(mirage)
the thing
you call love
and demand
it lying right under your ribcage
is a landmine
and your heartbeats
are the steps
(if you know what I mean)
you can't see him in pain
&
you have named yourself after pain
how you and him
are meant to be together!
your body is your yard
you either grow flowers
or pluck them out
they hate you
you hate yourself
you want to drown
pain isn't enough
half of your heart
will always float
your mouth is a graveyard
to the promises he has buried inside
to the excuses
you have made not to forget him
you haven't met sleep
long after he has gone
his absence still walk
in the blank aisle of your mind
you wish you were able to sleep!
your love is a curse
his love is panacea
where are you heading to??
.
.
depression is eating you ??
or you are having depression in dinner?
both will end you anyway
you are a poet
your pain is poetry
you are a poet
your drowning is poetry .
-Elly
#poets #mirakee #writersnetwork # @writersnetwork @mirakeeworld @mirakee @geraldine_mary @asmakhan @readwriteunite #poets #poetry #postoftheday #pod #posts #writer #writings #elly #writeups©elly____
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©elly____
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elly____ 200w
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©t_h_e_satyam_shukla_
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raindropsoncacti 88w
@mirakee @writersnetwork @writerstolli @readwriteunite @soulfulstirrings #mirakee #pod
#writersnetwork #writerstolli #rwu #cees_reposts #home #house #building #modern #world #life
#modernity #tradition
#aesthetics
Edit to Add: Thank you so much for the supportive response and the PoD! I am so very grateful!Aesthetics
Imagine Greece without its coastal dry-stone houses
Perched in clusters along the seaside cliffs like hives
Or Japan without its pagoda rooftops
With Hanamachis' feudal aesthetics as reminders of the lordships' past lives.
Freedom, accessibility and diversity has come from modernisation
But is this a good, bad, or just neutral thing?
Any home can be built with any preference and taste in any place! It's impossible anymore to narrow down any one look of a nation
You just get materials from afar, and utilise the ability to undertake outsourcing.
To me there's a degree of sadness in this potential for "anything", and although monetarily, architecture is now "cheaper".
Modern construction brings with it a cost.
In making buildings "however", their meanings are no longer deeper.
Than their facade exteriors; tradition and locality are both lost.
I'm not by any means righteous, or see myself as any better, for having this opinion.
I sit in what was the equivalent of a "flat-pack, few-nails-to-whack" developer's house of my own!
But if I ever built again, I'd strive to use local materials only, those meant to be there,
To try to preserve the history and nature of what was first found, in that one place alone.
I've always said one day I'd retire to a crafted log cabin.
Perhaps by "one day" I'll have the ways and means to be able to.
In the meantime I just ponder, over aesthetics, and consider if the scales of balance will indeed one day tip,
Where I make a home that's authentic - both of who I am, and of the place its in, too...
©thatgeekgirl -
light_flame 91w
Mystical Eyes
Eyes are those mystically
dual natured mediums
which possess incredible
potentiality to either
transparently express
or opaquely conceal all
the ordeals, struggles,
battles, emotions, and
torments experienced
by the soul throughout
a lifetime.
©light_flame -
geraldine_mary 91w
@mirakee
@writersnetwork
#mirror
The Mirror
The mirror only shows what you like to see
Why not become what you want others to be
The world would seem better if I find others like me
So let's construct a self of what others expect me to be
Self errors though seem so meek
Errors of others seem but bleak
Self love is good selfless love is better
Care of others best, is what really matter
So if the mirror really shows what you like to see
Let's be true to self just as the reflection would be
©geraldine_maryThe mirror only shows what you like to see
Why not become what you want others to be
©geraldine_mary -
.
-
galaxymilky 101w
Everything i wrote was the pain that felt but when turning back i miss my days of joy which never had a past .
©galaxymilkyWhen you do
the prettiest embroidery
with pains ,
weave it on the finest fabric
of happiness
©galaxymilky -
ellie_b 94w
In the palette of my life,
There were sorrows, heartbreaks, misery, agony and woe,
I've painted my soul in these shades of dolour,
I wandered and wandered,
Through the mazes of my past and present,
But those shades of life: the crimson joy, ruby red love, amber exhilaration and dandelion bliss...have remained unknown to me,
It's like I've known only the dark phases of the moon,
I couldn't portrait the curves of smiles and sparkling eyes on the canvas of my monochromatic poesy,
Yet this portrait of mine stayed so beautiful,
Maybe every shades of blue and grey with few drops of beige,
Made it chef-doeuvre of my life...
#silent_poetry #midnight_musings #art"I've painted my soul in these shades of dolour"
©ellie_b -
daffodilpearlzz 94w
#pod #makeawish @mirakee @writersnetwork
Thank you so much @writersnetwork for the repost
Wishes keep us going in life. We wish to have a dreamy life. We wish that we get lots of food to eat, a mansion to live in, have lots of wealth and be healthy always and then live a longer life. I know, this is naive. We don't literally think like this. But somewhere inside our minds, haven't we secretly wished for these?
L
O
N
E
L
Y
W
I
S
H
E
S
But there some wishes that come from intense solitude. Once I was participating for a speech competition. I had prepared many topics like problems of our society, corruption, bribery, environmental problems, poverty, child labour, etc. But the topic was "My world, My dream". When all the other students talked about how they wished to be a teacher or a doctor, all I knew was to talk about what I learnt, about the society. I quickly realised that I need to wish for a world where there aren't any of these problems. From then on, I haven't wished for luxury. Remember as humans all that we need are :-
Health
Shelter
Food
Clothing
Love and harmony
Help to fulfill our destiny
When you ask me to make a wish, I will only wish for giving these to each and every individual of this earth. I am not any great person and I indeed do not know how to speak great, but I know that there are people who suffer. It is not them that you should know about, it is their suffering, their hardships, their feelings. I wish their mild wishes also become. They will always wish for only the good, because they are people who have suffered a lot and they know how it is to suffer. May be they are more literate than us all in knowing what humanity actually mean. Let their wishes come true. Let their stomachs be filled and their poverty be erased. Let their wishes no longer be lonely.
©daffodilpearlzz
30_07_2020LONELY WISHES
My wish : A world with no poverty and no hatred.
-
anecdoche 94w
30 July 2020
2:30 P.M.
Far from the graves of the unkempt past, a zephyr blows melancholy, dancing to the tune of the trumpet the dawn blows. Songs of the clouds ring in my ear, declaring a celebration to be held within the reign of the sun. And I, knowing that it's time to awaken the shine of gratitude within me, slept again, beneath the blankets of regret.
"Happy Friendship Day!" a voice swayed through the creaks of my window. I peeped through it. A young skinny boy, with tanned skin and burnt brown hair, stood below, showing a smile through his half crooked tooth.
I remember him. I remember talking to him. Wiping his tears off. Giving him the last packet of my favourite biscuits. I remember saying to him "he was a nice man. May he be granted higher place in Jannah". I had thought he wouldn't survive long.
But there he stood, with a smile as real as the sun that breaks into the house of the moon every night, to steal the sky from within it's heart.
He waved at me and my eyes caught hold of the tired, crumbled skin of his hand. Who would believe that these hands have endured just seven callous winters of the ruthless poverty?
His eyes, that had no shine of hope left within them, kept gazing at me quizzically, with a tinge of guilt sprinkled.
"I am so glad you are here. I am coming". I tried my best to not let him hold the chains of doubt once again.
As I descended the stairs of my house I wondered what made this boy smile despite all the pain that has been served to him? How did he manage to gather the blooms of glee, when all he was ever given was autumns of undying sorrows?
Is he not afraid of the fate that has snatched away all the beings that belonged to him. Is he not afraid of the gale that blew all his fortune away? Is he not afraid of the smiles that betray him at every turn of his life? Is he not afraid? Why is he not afraid?
Or rather, why am I afraid? I wonder.
The cool zephyr blows again. And I, having known enough, opened the curtains of my heart and allowed the light of gratitude to shine on me.
And I see him smiling there. Again. Above him, a ray of sun shines. Through all the unkempt walls of the shadowy clouds, it shines.
And he smiles.
©anecdoche.
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pranat03 98w
she had this
beautiful eyes,
the kind you could
look at all day long
and get stoned to.
©pranat03
