4251 posts
  • angeljohn 2h

    Serve No Revenge

    Revenge is a best dish, served cold.
    Cold, with humanity sold?
    Told earlier, coldness is the absence of emotions,
    cause, whole of the warmth within is dead
    and blood so red is moist-cold.

    Expressions frozened, never
    quiten the blackened situation.
    For, the iced revenge attains a rest alone
    upon the latter, later is fired out alike a stone;
    creating complex identities, torn and cruelty born.

    Revenge; ain't to be served
    but to be confined, with an insight good
    and the dish bowl too,
    should be washed with love.
    For no bit of revenge should remain, to retain.

    Serve no revenge.
    Forgive the ones who deserve.
    Serve, a graceful image;
    for the entire world to serve
    and attain an immortal adoration,
    with your name placed at a top range.

  • asmat27628 8h

    The argument

    Tonight I think of the married couple
    Living apart in distant states
    Who date one night each week:
    They dine together via Skype,
    Laptops propped on tables, each
    Alone in the other’s company,
    Speaking of students and empathy,
    Tempting one another
    With plump olives and Chilean reds.
    Some nights, too tired to converse,
    One angles the Mac before the TV
    So they can view together
    Anderson Cooper or The Wire, season 3.
    And so the marriage goes, each
    In a state that denies their union,
    Each licking lips and fingertips,
    Mmm the sea bass, oooh the lamb,
    The distance between them less
    Than the expanse between you
    Wounded by words and me
    Writing this roundabout apology.
    @ asmat

  • paint_a_poem 9h

    Dos and Don'ts?

    Partly satirical, partly true
    What I write holds good for you
    If it ain't broke, don't fix it
    You will only end up with broken sticks

    With youthful enthusiasm and energy
    You try to change the Old Order
    The Old cliques and hegemony
    Old Boys' Clubs and Old Wives' Tales

    But pause before you are too proactive
    Not everyone fancies a change maker or maverick
    Old school thoughts and bearaucracy
    May trample new thoughts and idealogies

    If something seems fine to many, let it live
    The world may not be ready for your new trick
    Don't rock the boat when all is good
    If it ain't broke, don't fix it

    Nov 29 2021

  • miraquill 11h

    Argument poetry

    #writingcontest #contest #creativearena

    Head to Creative Arena to participate in this writing contest and win a trophy!

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    Argument poetry

    --Write an argument poetry.--

    For today's challenge choose a popular saying or proverb and write an argument against it in the form of a poem. If you can use your own - or someone else's - experience, to support your argument, all the better. Here are a few proverbs to help you start off but you can use proverbs other than the ones mentioned here as well.

    - What goes around comes around
    - Laughter is the best medicine
    - All good things come to those who wait
    - Revenge is a dish best served cold
    - If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it
    - Absence makes the heart grow fonder

  • sulu80 1d


    Participate in writing contests hosted in the Creative Arena.

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    Waking up with the melodies of birds
    Stony pavement with withered leaves
    Shades of green interwined
    Natural booster for brisky dawny walk!
    Tiny colourful flowers on both sides
    A lovely pond with lotus blooms
    Soothing sight for eyes
    Chilly breeze touching the pearly sweat
    Respiration with fresh oxygen
    Free from the gadgets
    Clamoring horns of vehicles
    Keeps body and mind all day fresh
    Greeny Glowing nature!

  • sleepingsoul 1d


    Slowly and slowly bit by bit I am learning to introspect my soul, I am guessing to survive alone, to lean and forward my egos and adopt my inner child again, to convert myself into a spectrum full of clarity and binding upon my thoughts only.

  • nancy_wangui 2d

    A walk is a nice refuge from it all

    It is a tranquil Saturday in the +254,
    The feminine urge for fresh air kiks in,
    Grab my jacket, phone and earphones
    The ground beneath the stiff leaves is frozen,
    I inhale deeply for the fresh breeze,
    The cold, brisk air in my lungs,
    I inhale, my breath is visible,
    The troubles of life evanesce with it,
    The environment is green theemed,
    Trees, bush, grass, flowers sprout freshness,
    Dew drops are still clinging on the trees,
    A sigh escapes my lips as they drop on my face,
    On a whim i put on my earphones to quiet the chimera on my mind,
    I let the nature and music take charge as i promenade in thin air.

  • islamabad 2d

    strange is a term promise,
    like a rain on a sunlit day.
    Someone named it emotionally
    cause one couldn't find a term
    that hurt,calm , slay,
    feel,annoy all at the same time.
    Maybe promise is just
    a candy pop that vanishes on touch of ecstatic tongue
    amnesiac soul that folds under the skin of sighs
    or a wilted leave that desires for a long life.
    Promises too have faces,
    unveiled and moulded
    by the hands that believe in fallacy of tomorrow.
    Bring me a charm, cause everytime promises just strike my ears rather than soul.
    Why always we utter promises that are dead and deprived of the breathes,
    one fumes helplessly while giving them a birth.
    I think promises too weep faded nights a little longer, not only the eyes who listened them.
    I think promise is another creature,
    that is sad on its birth.
    I think promises too don't want life only to die like all of us.



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    If promise lasts longer ($ighs)


  • elli_mcfarlane 1w


    Participate in writing contests hosted in the Creative Arena.

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    Seeing the world through a lens of blue,
    my heavy heart, distorting every hue.

    Today I battle to lift myself higher,
    challenging my vision as a liar.

    What in this world is truely blue,
    shades mixing with vibrance a new.

    First I look up, drawing a deep breath,
    praying I visualise, heaven's azure.

    Sandy shores sinking beneath my feet,
    the navy seas, teaming with endless life.

    A trickling river from recent rains,
    a faint blue tinge as the sun reframes.

    Mindful of things I'm hearing too,
    a kookaburras call, cobalt wing in view.

    Then I notice, unsure how I neglected,
    to observe the obvious blue in my t-shirt.

    Heart enshrouded, the colour I was seeking,
    right before my eyes, I just wasn't looking.

    There's a lot to be said, for a mindful wander,
    things into perspective a little stronger.

    No longer do I feel quite so blue,
    after seeing the beauty of blue in tune.


  • madinah_writes 1w

    The world is wide. It isn't just makes you lonely. It makes you lost.

  • nocturnal_enigma 1w

    * 23.11.2021; 4.01 A.M (Malaysia)

    go ~

    I saw green leaves and more than a mango.
    Still green colour. Not yellow. Had to go...
    back inside. Well, I even left my big ego...
    outside. Would like to eat a lot! Mani mogo.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

    * Mani mogo (Korean) = Eat a lot/Let's eat

    * �� I like to eat prawn/shrimp ����

    * My Korean-English name (I made-up) is:
    No-eul Iva Emily

    #writingcontest #contest #creativearena

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    go ~

    I saw green leaves and more than a mango.
    Still green colour. Not yellow. Had to go...
    back inside. Well, I even left my big ego...
    outside. Would like to eat a lot! Mani mogo.

    © Nuruliffa Emirah
    @ nocturnal_enigma

  • jigna_a 1w

    Those browns and goldens,
    browns were smiling
    and goldens were shining,
    They were soaring sky high,
    As if they wanted to complete the circle very quickly,
    So as my emotions,
    they were parching in the heat of your longing,
    I've felt that
    after completing this circle,
    both wanted reincarnation,
    and would convert into some greens,
    Yeah, those browns and goldens.
    Thank God!
    The autumn is over.

  • muskaanbhatt_ 1w

    So, I wrote this one for today's @miraquill's writing contest.
    I tried to write, although it was not a worthy topic to write on, seemed so kiddish while observing and writing, and as always miraquill gives meaningless stupid topics instead of positive ones, grow up bro.
    I seriously got to know about these other features(arena) of this app today, and so this is my first time writing for any contest of this app, hope you all like including the founders.

    #pod #wod #contest #writingcontest #creativearena
    @miraquill @writersnetwork

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    99 Shades of Red Colour

    While ambling through my GARDEN
    I saw dissimilar coloured flowers GROWN
    All were looking dazzling, delightful and ENDEARING
    And most of all those dark imperial shaded red roses captured my heart and gave me an ALARMING
    The red colour of those roses tried to cease me with help of its luminous PETALS
    Blown up my mind with its charm and forced me to SHUFFLE
    With those water droplets on the red petals felt like clear necre PEARLS
    Gave me an another satisfaction with its petals which were full of CURLS
    That red colour was so perfect in its own way and so FLAWLESS
    I was staring them in awe and they trapped me more with their ATTRACTIVENESS

    Besides my lawn i looked up to my ORCHARD
    To see those Venetian red shaded ripped apples i walked a bit FORWARD
    They Looked so juicy with some kind of golden glints on its COVERING
    With some reluctance i tried to pluck ONE
    But couldn't as I felt its red colour was saying not segregate me from my little SON

    I walked a bit outside the garden I saw my lover waiting THERE
    He walked upto me but his coral red shaded lips made me stunned and all i did was to STARE

    With him i went outdoor and attended a wedding CEREMONY
    I was still lost in his red lips that once again red colour beguiled my heart with such a HARMONY
    This time it was the burgundy red shade of the bride's DRESS
    Staring bride's red coloured dress in desperation and felt like I am in love with red colour and now I should CONFESS

    Then again I reminded all the things of red coloured I saw TODAY
    Literally all were heart throbbing and else what good can I SAY
    Red roses to those red apples to his red lips to that red bridal DRESS
    Every red shade stole my heart because red colour was evolved in everything with such a BLESS


  • juanogando 1w

    Baby Blue Morning

    My daughter’s favorite colour
    Is blue, a hue limitless without bounds.
    The mourning sea kisses the blushing sky
    As a lively gull expounds.
    The bluejay is rough at play
    Taunts the feline to recline
    Beneath a shrub of indigo flowerets
    Yet the stray is attentive and sanguine.
    A periwinkle scooter scoots on by
    The rider with steel blue eyes
    Seizes the morning with bursts
    Of speed, taunting his demise.
    A sapphire fantasy fills my mind
    As the slate hued dread of winter descends
    Of cerulean seas in the Caribbean
    With my Carolina blue friends.
    I am assured her mood is azure
    As I greet her with a kiss.
    I wrap her in a new turquoise scarf
    Lifting her mood with kindness.


  • preetkanwal 1w

    #writingcontest #miraquill #writersnetwork

    Everyday when dawn knocks
    on my window
    I leap out of my dream world
    n’ head for my nearest park.
    Slowly creamy sunlight tiptoes
    and massage my taut nerves
    for a fresh start.
    While walking on lush green grass
    daily I see a frail old man
    digging,pruning,tending the plants
    oblivious to the people around
    his head bowed to the ground ,
    lost in his own world
    sweating head to toe
    carrying a hoe
    little does he know
    the value of his knowhow.
    Treading on the dew drops of grass
    I wonder…….whether they are
    nature’s treat for us
    Or they are gardener’s sweat
    //longing to nourish Mother Earth//
    Preet Kanwal 22.11.2021

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    Dew clinging petals
    stimulate soul of flowers
    longing Mother Earth….


  • husnachikwela 1w


    My start began when write,
    Some of them they shout,
    I will not see right,
    But I continue to fight.

    No one accepts my write,
    I couls unbreak my hurt,
    Continue with my own art,
    Anything I could not want.

    Letter I got my account,
    My poems where being count,
    A message was being brought,
    They have accept my thought.

    Today a book I have got,
    Hatcheg they have promote,
    My books they have bought,
    Because my cover is soft.

    Let me answer in short,
    This not my last tought,
    I will continue to write,
    Up to things be alright.

    This is not my last,
    Soon new thing will start,
    They shall be very fast,
    They shall be good infact.

  • reneewolfcrowdenunez 1w


    Participate in writing contests hosted in the Creative Arena.

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    Was the color
    That came to me
    In a dream whispering
    Suggesting "write about me"
    And then YOU said
    "Write about a color"
    And I knew
    It was meant to be
    And this
    This is what came to me..

    Is the color I wish
    Oh, How I wish
    I could go see
    Reds of every red color
    Right outside my window Outside, where I wished
    I could be..

    Creeping like veins
    Through the leaves
    On the trees..

    Red in the sunrise
    And in the setting..
    Varying from the lightest
    Of garnet
    To almost a red that looked bloody..

    I'm so often tucked away
    The risk is stealing
    My passion, Red
    So no walk for me..
    Yet, then
    The only red I see
    Is from the fire
    Within me.

    It allows me
    To see, with-out
    Of my limited surroundings Outside of my sufferings..

    And that, Red
    To me, Is beautiful
    Even when
    Representing pain.

    Red, lights up
    My inner eye
    And doesn't show me
    What I CAN'T
    But INSTEAD shows me
    What I CAN
    And no matter
    Where that I am
    That with my Red
    Like a kite dipping up
    And down and through
    The trees, I am free!

  • lucy08 1w

    "Not just another Sunset"

    A thousand tangerine desires
    crowding up her subconscious space
    As she sat on a rusty park bench
    to watch the ginger-red lonely place.

    Gradient shades across the sky,
    forecasting of her radiant tomorrow
    While fiery streaks bathed her paled past,
    turning its ebony hues to a tuscan-glow.

    "Why do autumn dusks appear so faithful,
    Even though we all know
    that its the calmness before the advent
    of the cold winter's chilly show?"

    "It's not just another orange sunset, dear"
    whispered a delicate emerald plant;
    Twisting and coiling slowly, the ivy grew,
    casting a spell of its majestic enchant.

    Her heart felt warmer than usual days,
    The pale blues were no longer there,
    The ferns' shadows and the sun's crimsoned rays
    had painted her soul into a rare AMBER solitaire.


    #creativearena #colour #contest #wod #writingcontest
    EC....after quite a long time��
    Thank you @miraquill and @writersnetwork #ceesreposts

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    "Why do autumn dusks appear so faithful?"

  • happiestme 1w

    Her eyes are like the palette.
    Where different colors are mixing
    To create a whole landscape.
    Her soul is dyed with the colors of her thoughts.
    She is a open book, yet closed.
    If you can read the colors
    You understand the picture
    #miraquill #pod #creativearena #writingcontest #wod


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    Her colors

    Her soul is dyed with the colors
    Of her thoughts

  • kradle 1w

    Green's Stagnat Life

    You see... The sun is the table lamp.
    Only on for a little while.
    Your told, "night night" and "sleep tight",
    And you might wake up in a little while.

    Think of the sky as your canvas of thoughts.
    We look up and see the Heavens with tiny bit of hope, that we are not alone.
    Not that, we want see an alien race devour our brain,
    or a reflection of us starring our way.
    Just... A little more meaning to every wake.
    Not a "Hello, good bye" and be on your way.

    Trust, when that bright yellowy-orange ball, shines white light, and spits fire like a rapper amist fog lights.
    I sit down and think if the painter of the sky, every thought the contrast would be so right.
    When the night fades, it's just as beautiful as day.
    The AC turned down for a cool hydrate.

    In secret, I really just love trees, yah the ones with green leaves.
    Scattered like sand in a desert, plenty and perfect.
    Digusied as the roots of life.
    The bearers, the keepers of order and time.

    If I had to say what color I like,
    It would be like asking if I like day or night.
    Let's just say when ground meets sky,
    Wonders are created as sunset and sunrise.