229 posts
  • petrichorune 4w

    Middle-earth's fog

    Caressing the curves of the mighty mountains.
    Showered with the good night's sleep under the grey layer.
    Morning fog made a golden blanket with the first rays of sun.
    Gently it waved away in a dreamy way.
    The peaks got swayed with the radiant glow.
    It was a scene from middle-earth's era.


  • shinereverie_ 8w

    Sometimes I dream of toy trains
    Taking me to a world that doesn't exist
    Filled with fairies, rainbow and magic
    It's a journey I cannot resist.

    Sometimes I daydream at noon
    And smirk timidity to myself
    Broken free from the daze
    And back I am to this ' LIVING HELL'

    Sometimes I Dream of death too
    But rest assured not to scary grey Void
    But rather of a journey that is yet to come
    A life where pain is destroyed.

    I dream too often I sometimes think
    Of places unattainable and surreal
    But it's all happiness I try to grasp
    So is happiness worng to feel!!

    @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    Twenty four hour dreamer :'))

  • theobscure 10w

    It's not your body or face that makes you attractive,
    It's your scars, wounds & your injured soul that makes me want to keep kissing you until you are healed & then some more so you heal me too..

  • jebinjohnyalexander 12w


    Many dream to get rich and earn more!

    Most of them start off but weren't consistent!

    A number of people withdraw if they dont find results immediately!

    But a very few start working on their dreams as a continuous process!

    Remember life is not like a T20!

    It's like a Test match! Grinding hard to achieve the dreams! Striving enough when many fail!

    Keep hustling till you achieve!

    Keep your head high even when u face defeat!


  • ndeenda_elao 13w

    Happy Anniversary

    I find myself blushing
    at times
    A feeling that is so
    alien to me
    Yet you made it so

    Loving you is beautiful
    In you I am content
    With you I discovered
    a me I never knew I had

    For a Junior
    lessons that you
    taught me
    are imperative

    It's so crazy
    You live free rent
    in my mind


  • ndeenda_elao 15w


    When tomorrow comes
    I'll be 'happily' laughing
    Forgetting all my sorrows
    As I slowly drift off
    To a place called mine


  • ndeenda_elao 15w

    By the waterhole

    I saw him again
    By the waterhole

    Oh so dashing
    Ever so dazzling

    He whistled
    And I ignored
    He whispered
    And I listened

    My heart fluttered
    At his flattering words

    "Wake up child"
    Granny's words echoes
    "Go to the waterhole"

    Oh, not again!
    Reality sinks in
    It's just a dream
    Of me and him

    By the waterhole


  • we_are_not_beautiful 25w

    I want to be as dreamy as the sky turns when the ocean is about to swallow the sun whole.

    As content as when the flying creatures are drowsy and tired, making a trip back to their home with their stomach full and their mom already singing lullabies to them.

    As calm as when the zyhper of leisure hits the crumbled bones and splintering the dying passion to an awaken hue of cascade, falling with the force of atonement and mending the broken home of brutal words.

    As brave as when the night darkens and the beastly looking silhouettes pressed against walls are doing nothing but helping the helpless ones to walk back home safely.

    As carefree as when the fireflies dance without the care of reaching hands to grasp them, without the care of moon shining brighter than them.

    As enticing as when the music sinks into my skin and nourishes the dried and shrill symphony of bearings, composing soothing tunes for swirling life.

    As gentle as when a mom carries the new born, eyes shining and watery with the whole world in her arms.

    As breathtaking as when the poetries weave the torn emotions of poets into a mesmerising fabric of metaphorical landscapes.

    As ceaseless as when I make you immortal with the words I write and when I utter your name with the eternity of us following behind.

    #readwriteunite #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #mirakeeword #random #thoughts #poem #quote #rwu #read #write #words #pod #want #longing #old #dreamy #content #calm #brave #carefree #enticing #gentle #breathtaking #ceaseless
    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakee @mirakeeworld

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    I want to be

    I want to be as old as when the half torn and wrinkled book succumbs to the beautiful agony of words with the fading stories lingering in the threshold of distinct memories.


  • a_nabiyh 28w

    Kʜᴡᴀᴀʙᴇᴇᴅᴀ ʜᴏᴏɴ ᴍᴀɪ ❤️
    Hᴀǫɪǫᴀᴛ ᴋɪ ᴜᴍᴍᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴜᴊʜsᴇ ᴍᴀᴛ ʀᴋʜɴᴀ

  • moira_valleyofsilence 29w

    To Love a star

    To Love a Star..

    Thousand faces, a thousand places, i search your traces on every ground..
    Like a treasure that's hidden, or a fruit that's forbidden, you are the silence and you are the sound.

    Trying to cover this distance with creative dreams and vision
    No matter how surreal it looks or how uncertain it sounds,
    you are my head and my heart's collision..

    I endure all the laughs and questioning stares, i hold on to my belief they have spared,
    Swimming through the crowd i wish to be heard
    To fight for your love is what i have dared..

    I count each dawn, keep track of every dusk spent thinking about you,
    You r my sun and you are my moon
    To wait for your glimpse around every noon
    I breathe you through each spring and monsoon..

    I stare up at the sky shining dimly tonight,
    Imagining you as a Star, sitting down on a beach,
    Daringly extend my hand hoping to come in line of your sight
    But i soon realise you are so out of my reach...


  • mrspectacular 29w


    A fountain sits in the middle of the park with little fountains surrounding it. The flourescent in its pool makes the water seem glittery. It shines like little crystals have been lodged in it.

    The park bubbles with life, holding an assembly of fun-lovers and tourists. In this myriad of characters is a man with worries too much, he cannot even smile in a place as bubbly as this beautiful and enjoyably saturated area. A man, Donald Wesley, with a salary that cannot pay half of the bills to his name. His hope dwindling like a pendulum. His children wearing clothes so cheap but for which he has to pay an arm and a leg for. His little vehicle, an aged overused sedan whose life appears to be hanging by a thread. The vehicle seems to wish for death. It would go off it on its own accord even right in the middle of the road and would require a lot of time touching a whole lot of connections in its bonnet to get it up and running. Sometimes, he would have to pay to have it towed home while at other times, he would be so unfortunate he would have to push it all the way home himself.

    The fountain flowing with warm water seems too obvious to him, it almost seems it is calling out to him to come over for a drink. For a moment, time stands still and it feels as though the other park visitors have deserted the park all of a sudden and it is just himself and the fountain.

    Rushing at the fountain, he makes to take a plunge in it. The security guards at the park, dressed in white uniforms, grab him just as he is about touchdown in the fountain. They take a stern look at him and seeing a look of desperation in his countenance as he tries to force his way out of their grips, they conclude he is a lunatic and ban him from the park premises. Holding him by the arm as he begs for reasoning, they throw him out of the park.
    He sits there for a while and about a minute later, picks himself up off the tarred ground, wobbles up to where he had parked his car and places himself behind the steering tiringly. He tries to start the car, it stalls for about five minutes but finally starts up and he drives himself home.

    Donald seems unwilling to sleep when he arrives home. He does not want to be stressed either but the episode that occured earlier seems too embarrassing. Sleep seems pretty unimportant to him at the moment, it is not as important as a drink from that fountain he believes would transform his life. In his opinion, such an opportunity may never present itself again so he will have to do all it takes to utilize this one to the fullest.

    He tells no member of his family about the episode, not even his wife but keeps it to himself. All he thinks of is the benefit of drinking of the fountain would do for him and his family, they would be happy again he believes.

    Realizing he has been banned from the park and therefore would not have legal access to the park to earn him a drink from the fountain, he decides to storm the park after it has closed at night. Walking gently and stealthily out of his bedroom by 12:20am in order not to wake his wife up, he picks up his car key. He drives off towards the park speedily.

    Donald, noticing the park is quiet and locked, drives his car a little further away from the park and treks back to the park.

    Getting there he climbs the fence into the park. He hopes no one catches him in the act, surprised at his own desperation. When he is finally inside the park, he takes a deep breath and looks at the fence again, imagining the fact that he would have to climb it again after he is done with his mission-drinking from the fountain.

    'I hope this transforms my life for the better', Donald says just as he is about to stoop for a drink at the fountain. He feels negative and positive at the same time about the act. He begins to drink as much as he can, imagining all the changes he will be expecting from this drink. There the changes begin, he could feel much better about his life.
    Laying on the floor beside the fountain, having filled himself with water, he falls asleep. The sleep seems much better than he has ever had before.
    'Excuse me, sir. Excuse me sir. How did you get here?' the worried voice of a staff of the park rings in Donald's head. 'We are not open for another two hours'
    Donald keeps mute still trying to regain his consciousness of his environment being he is still in sleep mode.
    'What are you doing here sir and why are you wet?', Dr. Triston, the park's manager queries.
    The staff who had been there first explains to the manager that Donald had taken a drink from the fountain.
    The manager, disgruntled, knowing that the park had banned Donald before now orders him kicked out again.
    'I hope this works out just the way I want because this embarrassment is rather too much', he hopes as he picks himself off the ground to his car and drives him. For the first time the car does not stall but he does not notice as he is terribly worried about the wish coming through.
    In joyful realisation of what is happening in his life, he flings the door to his house open, only to see his wife in tears. Confused, he moves towards her to find out the issue but she only weeps more painfully pointing towards the children's bedroom. Eager to understand the reason for her tears, Donald hurries over to the children's bedroom to see his three children lain on the bed.
    In confusion, he turns to go meet his wife again,
    'I'm yet lost', he begins as he removes his clothes. 'Our children are asleep and you are crying. You do know they need enough rest to be strong for us, right?'
    'They are not sleeping....They are dead, Donald.', she screams in painful tears. 'Dead'

    Donald goes back to confirm. Screaming in agony to the high heavens, he holds the cold body of the youngest in his arms. Into his phone enters a message while he is yet weeping, a message from his bank with a credit alert of Six billion dollars staring him in the face. The alert is good news but his children have just been spewed out of life's mouth into death's cold hand. He sees agony standing right beside his joy. He knows not whether to weep or rejoice.
    Pulling his wife close he tries to pacify her,
    'It is okay dear', he begins warmly. 'We will be fine'.


  • telestic_typewriter 30w


    I stepped out of the house to see the starry night,
    As I turned around, there he was, holding my hand firm and tight.
    He smiled and looked at me with eyes full of love,
    Little did he know, that he was a blessing for my sight.

    As the moon above shown with it's more beauty and grace,
    I felt getting pulled towards his warm embrace.
    The moonlight beautified the euphoric moment we shared,
    And the moment got much allured when the moonlight touched his face.

    He's eyes bespoke love and his presence felt tranquil ,
    His smile felt like a panacea which made my scars heal.
    I held his face and got closer to gaze deep into his eyes,
    That's when I knew, it's the kind of love I've always wanted to feel.

    I ruffled his hair as the cold breeze rustled by,
    I leaned in closure to see him getting flustered and shy.
    I adored the moment as we both slowly closed our eyes,
    Our hands locked, lips brushed, as we kissed under the night sky.

    As we pulled out, again, our eyes met,
    He kissed my forehead and in my embrace he slept.
    I kept admiring him and I knew I fell for him yet again,
    As he fell asleep peacefully, I caressed his cheek and whispered, "perfect".

    Priti Das

    #love #nightsky #firstkiss #dreamy

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    Priti Das

  • sanka_ 30w


    H ow lucky I am.
    E nough talking.
    L ook aside for now.
    L ook away for long.
    O h no we lost touch.

  • lafzakriti 31w


    Raat ki thakan utari bhi Ni
    Subah ho gayi
    Jin dino ka kabhi tha hume intezaar
    Unki Shaam bhi ho gayi


  • ashandfire 41w

    Cotton Ball Clouds

    "Look, look!
    Did you just see that?
    That cloud looks like, like,
    Like a little sleeping cat!"
    Those are a little guy's words,
    As I watch a mother and son,
    Playing in the park.
    The little guy seems creative for one,
    Cuz I see nothing,
    But just a big cloud.
    Now, wait just a minute, he could be right.
    Wait another minute, did I say that out loud?
    How does it matter if I did?
    The little guy is right,
    It does look like a little cat,
    Or is it a dog? I think I might,
    Too indulge in the sky a little bit today,
    It now seems the perfect day to.
    There seems to be so many to play with,
    In this sky clear and blue.
    Oh, look!
    There is another, an ice cream cone,
    If you ask me,
    And it isn't alone.
    So many clouds to play with,
    And there is that cotton candy I so love too!
    Oh, I wonder, how in so little time,
    We all grew.

    But these huge cotton balls in the sky,
    Brought the kid out,
    Vapours, rain and science apart,
    I think this is what the clouds are about.


  • the_sunset_girl 41w


    She craved for silence,
    Harry's invisible cloak,
    Prospero's magic wand,
    Aladdin's carpet,
    To get disconnected from the world,
    To be away from the muggles,
    And, get vanished with her Atlantis, forever.


  • sugandhswani_ 46w


  • fatmanasla 47w


    It wasn't a movie,
    a song, nor an ideally molded dummy
    that made you linger in my mind right now.

    Sheer bliss when I realized it's the new scent of my blanket that reminded me of you.

    It was a really good call to change my fabcon-


    I found your remembrance, in the simplest, humbling, and cutest way.


  • abhishekkamble 54w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee @theultimateinsane

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #perspectives #people #life #philosophy #poetry #shortstory #stories #reverie #dreams #dreamy #city #child #book #poets #ceesreposts

    Image credit to unsplash.com
    Photo by - ©CaseyHorner

    Bordering the imaginary Gemini,
    Have you wondered about the twins lived in the north?
    Like looney tunes and a munchkin mini,
    I would slowly sway along the crafty sailing ship back and forth,

    Isn't it strange why familiar faces turns astray,
    When finding the comforting pillow under the universe of black holes,
    And like a complaining granny about years that turned away when supposed to stay,
    I found a darker space in between wrinkled lines that looked upon the star at the pole,

    The bicycle wheels that once rode furiously on a side track,
    Are now paralyzed from the burdensome weight,
    Every time the moon shimmering upon terrace, asking you back,
    Why was there a window pane in between the fate!

    Where the little fingers could hold the cosmos,
    Caught in a labyrinth of veins over a dry leaf,
    Every fortnight the lily screamed, "I have less to live"
    I just sighed over the waning twilight asking for flaws.

    The bus stand where I waited for the bus,
    And a car that never stopped for hitchhiker,
    How the stepping road that was a dead end made a fuss,
    The blank sky wore a white dress with the pores, emitting dark light that never got weaker,

    With every dusk, I got a more conscious me,
    The night sky held a bow where the arrow was awaiting,
    Between the lonely scars that allowed to fall for the moon's sea,
    The after-sun is less a sky, more like a pulled over shawl shivering.

    The good old bonfire that never burned with ash
    Of a lingering storyline with some dialogues,
    I was never taught how to just bash,
    But the ghosts in the woods crawled to howl in the smog,

    Nightmares never have died they have been a denial,
    Not for the unsigned treaty between the dusk,
    But for the slumber never been to peace and always on exile,
    I questioned, why closed curtains had beautiful designs, was it to face weathering?

    Satirically the fairness of night had been a conjuring,
    The comical joke for some where the person never laughed,
    But is also a moment for a beau, romanticizing.
    And the birthday wishes late at midnight, leaving everyone mesmerized.

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    Hovering between spaces


  • abhishekkamble 55w

    This is part two of the storyline, do read the part 1��

    @writersnetwork @mirakee @theultimateinsane @redolent_smile @ckfilvan
    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #reposts #ceesreposts #live #dreams #waves #mumbai #storyline #older #dreamy #memories #trains #shortstory #short #roads

    Image credit - unsplash.com
    Photo by - ©Liamtruong

    Imaginary story: part 2

    August 2016.

    Alarmed bells and sirens inside the psyche could buzz the nerves to the wreck. Fiery afternoon had come to surrender its losing wrath to the gap of wrinkled shawls on the beds, appealing me to slide down my back through the ruined walls, sitting down to the chilling floors, it was the rush hour of 6'O clock!
    I held on with the support of my decaying roots of the fallen embrace, I looked up to the mirror and blasphemed my own unholy name! I just pulled off the wardrobe door and snatched down the clothes to as I got enraged to be dressed white.
    The local arrived on platform no.4 is 6hrs 15mins fast local for churchgate..... The gloomy yellow lights struck his eye's vision as he heard the railway waging it's way ahead, the train made a stoppage and his invisible figure in the crowd of hundreds got inside yet unnoticed. The compartment was over crowded to be suffocating to the only windpipe that was not windy. Few minutes later, the crowd was settled down, 'to have travelled and got a place have never been same' , he got it and that too an unsettling view of trains passing by.
    The quite unclear speaker could not announce the next station but only showed an error on its sign board. But the whereabouts known is a half nostalgia! The trains stopped at the last station, he got down with the trembling legs as he walked out to reach the dreamy sea hitting shores of Mumbai!

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