113 posts
  • pallavi4 28w


    It started out looking like a plain
    Standard wall in white
    You were her painter of choice
    Bearing beams of iridescent light

    You assured her that her picture
    Would adorn the walls forever
    You would create a masterpiece
    Lovingly working together

    You wet the the wall with plaster,
    Grainy sand and marble dust
    And began to trace in quick strokes
    As a fresco artist must

    You traced an outline of her
    Lifelike and life sized
    She sat watching with rose coloured spectacles
    Feeling like a possession prized

    When it came down to painting her
    On the wet wall readied to paint
    You chose to embed her like a mosaic
    While she sat light headed, feeling faint

    She in a trance like state
    Lost limb by limb to the wall
    While trusting you to better her
    She simply sat almost enthralled

    A mosaic mural you made of her
    Cutting and plastering piece by piece
    Bit by bit she lost herself, never from it
    Any hope of being released

    And after the tedious task was done
    You varnished your fresco proudly
    In an attempt to supposedly elevate her
    Her essence you removed almost devoutly

    Stuck to wall disjointed
    Your grand masterpiece called
    Giving up her identity forever
    She came to be a fancy mural wall


    7th of July, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- Depth finder by Sonia King

    #mosaicc #mosaic #fresco #art #metaphorical_poems #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • pallavi4 36w


    Poems are mosaics made
    Of broken pieces of heart
    Of shattered hopes and torn dreams
    Of rancid promises a part

    In each fresco pain is embedded,
    Embellished and decorated
    Every wound wrung out dry
    Leaving the poet incapacitated

    If each poem is an intricate mosaic
    Then every poet is inherently an artist
    Slowly bleeding words that dry
    And turn into shades of scarlet

    Like an artist he paints words
    Dipped in ink in bloody crimson
    His creations are a reflection of his
    Suffering, exertion and affliction


    16th of May, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner - By Jane Russel Mosaics

    #wod #mosaic #fresco #poems #poets @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee

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  • the_beautiful_cage 42w

    Your vision should be and
    must be like fresco in your life.

    Live daily!

    Saloni Grover


  • san_wordzz 42w

    Thank you @writersnetwork ❤(4)
    You made my day
    Though cliché, yet this post is a gentle reminder for all of us. Therefore, please read the complete post.

    1. I don't know how to write. Yet, I find myself immersed in the pool of thoughts that are perhaps the result of the circumstances that circumference my mind with the wires of emotions.

    2. Just as the autumn sheds it's leaves in crimson yet each crimson is different. Likewise, so many writers attempt the same topics yet each one has it's own differentiable essence. They may use the same words, yet their creation is different.

    3. We all have two eyes, two ears, one nose and lips. Yet, we all look different just like our gadgets. They are similar yet different.

    4. Betwixt the particles of air travels the particles of our sound and gets communicated to the desired person.

    5. Just as the swift movements of a renaissance painter seems effortless yet alive, in the same way our breath keeps our system open to enjoy our surroundings or else we may be numb.

    6. We feel the Zephyr, enjoy a visual treat of gigantic cerulean waves, seraphic sunrise and sunset, serenity of virvidescent trees which is articulated with an amalgamation of Science, as if Science and Art are twins that are inseparable both physically as well as mentally.

    7. We use hyperbole, alliteration, metaphor, simile etc to garner our poetry with a beauteous touch. In the same way, different moments of happiness, sadness, obstacles beautify our life instead of making it monotonous.

    These things have lost their importance because of their regular nature. And we think that these things are done by us, and we think that we are the rulers of this world and everything is happening in accordance with our need.

    And in the due process we put 'I' on the pedestal
    What if
    One day we wake up to find that
    1. Our mind has filled its space with the void instead of thoughts?

    2. Our faces look like facades of similarity?

    3. Our tongue makes movements to bring out our voice but our larynx has failed to harmonise with our mouth?

    3. We become hypoxic and our countless breaths needs a count to keep us alive?

    4. We are surrounded by the monochrome colour of darkness and we are bereft of all the beauty that evokes our five senses?

    If such things happen, they will draw a line of oblivion where anything will be everything and everything will be nothing and nothing will turn to infinity.

    Therefore, we should insert this 'I' into 'HIM', instead of offering garland of laurel to it , and surrender ourselves completely because he is the one who is writing, speaking, working through us. All the artwork that we do, belongs to him for he has created our minds and he is the only one who is working through them.
    Therefore, we should be grateful to HIM for making us a part of his artwork. And we should respect all the other forms of HIS artwork.


    I and HIM in single inverted comma
    I - It refers to ego. Eg:- I am the doer, the giver and the forgiver.
    HIM - It refers to the Almighty God
    PS :- I have mixed all the three challenges of the past three days, so it's pretty certain that I might have batched this up at some point. Feel free to correct me, in the chatbox.
    writersblock at its peak��
    @heartsease My editing is inspired by yours��
    #fresco #principles #hyperboles #paradox #wod #pod #mirakee #writersnetwork
    @mirakee @writersnetwork

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  • rainiki 42w

    Our world is fresco made by God
    Which we witness by our rods & cones
    Beautiful colors and panoramas
    It is still wet so we can experience more...

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  • myspilledink 42w

    The walls of my heart
    Were still bleeding from
    The wounds of the past
    The dripping memories just
    Covered the dept of every scars
    Trying to aid, a hand approached
    The heart, it shivered
    Nobody till date cleansed the blood course
    Well, it was dubious to stop the bleed
    Plastering, bandaging added only displease
    An idea that broke the frozen laws
    He started opening the damaged inclosures
    The hands they never stopped the pace
    Slowly slowly the image was replaced
    I peeped into the chambers
    That remained closed since long
    A skillful artist had replaced
    Everything I could imagine was
    His face was patterned in deepest gore
    I sighed seeing the mural sights
    A fresh Fresco of memories awaited with warmth.

    #mirakee #fresco #wod #murals #wavesofwait #writersnetwork

    Pic credits:Pinterest

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    Well, it was dubious
    to stop the bleed
    Plastering, bandaging
    added only displease
    An idea that broke
    the frozen laws
    He started opening
    the damaged inclosures


  • hallgd 42w


    God desires to make a fresco of His Son in us, but we must have faith, and trust.

  • msushil 42w

    Fresco of yours whispers,
    'Oh my lover,
    I don't want
    to be the owner
    of the wall
    of your home,
    I want
    to be owner
    of your home.'
    My eyes smile
    And emotions snuggle to me.
    Fingers touch you
    And inner voice
    gives you promise,
    'Oh! My heart,
    you are the owner
    of my home,
    you are the owner
    of my life,
    give me permission,
    I want to jump over
    every citadel
    to win your love.'
    #pic is credited to rightful owner

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    Fresco of yours whispers,
    'Oh my lover,
    I don't want
    to be the owner
    of the wall
    of your home,
    I want
    to be owner
    of your home.'
    My eyes smile
    And emotions snuggle to me.
    Fingers touch you
    And inner voice
    gives you promise,
    'Oh! My heart,
    you are the owner
    of my home,
    you are the owner
    of my life,

  • _anaan__ 42w

    If I could read you
    I would read all of you
    to the fresco of my core.

  • carrie09 42w

    Sunset pulls her curtains down
    On twilight cherubs stand in order
    Wind sings her song of vesper
    caelum watch in wonder
    as winter night paints her fresco
    stars of magians unfurled.


  • puchka 42w

    Her heart walls has frescos across
    Of love, hate, loss and gain
    Telling stories of her life pot holed

  • cherubinwinter 42w


    The walls of my heart have shed tears
    ......over the years

    The happiness sun did shine
    ......but for short span of time

    I wonder what shades of fresco
    One can find on my damp heart wall
    I guess it will be a beautiful rainbow
    As I grew into me, rising after every fall


  • brahmleen_ 42w


  • artemiswrites 42w

    Life was painted on
    wet earth, washed clean by the rains.
    Life was a fresco.

  • saif5alam 42w

    एक बे-हासिल तलब बे-नाम इक मंज़िल बना
    टूटने के बा'द ही दिल दर-हक़ीक़त दिल बना

    मंज़िलें ही क्या नया हर जादा-ए-मंज़िल बना
    लेकिन अपने आप को पहले किसी क़ाबिल बना

    हम फ़रेब-ए-रंग-ओ-बू खा कर भी आगे बढ़ गए
    कम-निगाहों के लिए हर मरहला मुश्किल बना

    किस क़दर अहद-आफ़रीं आलम है तेरी ज़ात का
    जो तिरी महफ़िल में आया वो ख़ुद इक महफ़िल बना

    ग़म से ना-मानूस रहने तक थीं सारी तल्ख़ियाँ
    रफ़्ता रफ़्ता ग़म ही अपनी उम्र का हासिल बना

    पी गए कितने ही आँसू हम ब-नाम-ए-ज़िंदगी
    एक मुद्दत में कहीं दिल दर्द के क़ाबिल बना

    जज़्बा-ए-मंज़िल सलामत रास्तों की क्या कमी
    हम जिधर निकले नया इक जादा-ए-मंज़िल बना

    हर मक़ाम-ए-ज़िंदगी पर था मिरा आलम जुदा
    मैं कहीं तूफ़ाँ कहीं कश्ती कहीं साहिल बना

    तब्सिरे करने लगे हैं लोग हस्ब-ए-हौसला
    'शौक़' आसानी से मैं कुछ और भी मुश्किल बना

  • zoya_charmz 42w

    #fresco #imemyselfc

    Editor's choice ����

    Running out of time so plz bear it ��

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    She is the wild aster in the epigraph of late
    spring, the sumptuous art drapes the
    symphony of her deciduous curves.

    She is the light of virtual hopes where nude
    nuances bears sky full of opalescent sparks.

    She is a poignant tale of an achromatic
    fresco which inhales the black hole
    of the centuries.

    She is a lyrical ballad in her own cosmos
    bearing silhouettes of the stygian memories.

    She is the bougainvillea in the dusty streets,
    her ornamental vines lift up the drowned
    amour of drenched verses.

    She is the nightingale singing her summer
    song amidst the chill frost hedges.

    Her celestial soul engraves human music
    inscribing millions of global melody.

    Her purple hues melt the brown meadows
    whispering secrets of well built autonomy.

    She drinks the poison hemlock and
    exhales the fragrance of vintage honey.

    She is the epitome of elegance with the
    forlorn kisses of her euphonic poetry.

    She is indeed an A R T.

    And art is her L I F E.


    // I'm a W O M A N and I'm a P O E T R Y

    floating in the C E R U L E A N ocean along with

    the B R O K E N pieces of P A N A C E A //


  • _maria__ 42w

    What I asked for is not a favour but your love
    i did so because i know you agree to it...
    Fearing others, i will never go away from the place you belong to... i will never leave you alone... if not this, then what else is love?
    you're my success.. why should i care about any failure..


  • chitrotpala 42w

    Fresco of Love

    I paint a fresco of love
    on your dampened skin,
    waiting for it to turn evergreen
    I flutter my wings around
    to let it soak into your skin

    I adorn it with a garland of
    lilac and jasmine
    and let it mould you into the
    person you could have been

    I shower it with snowflakes
    and leaves of olive green
    and distill your heart from
    your past-life sin

    I give wings to your mind to
    follow its half-buried dream
    and to your heart, I offer
    a compassionate fin

    Let the fresco of my love
    dry on your wall thin,
    and you'll notice the magic
    of love happening!


  • mann_se_ 42w

    I tried to trace the fresco of my feelings on the canvas of his heart but it slipped off the surface.


  • _maria__ 42w

    Our incomplete story.

    We came close... yet the distances never reduced, our love story remained incomplete.
    It's not necessary that the sky always gets to meet the earth.
    True love is that love which doesn't reach its destination.
    There were colours, there was a glow when you were besides me.. this world was like heaven...
    On the sands of time, Something which seemed like my name you wrote it & then disappeared leaving me behind...
    I collided with your fragrance, don't know how...
    Look while walking how far I've come.. if this is heaven, then why can't i see you.
    The moon & the sun are all here... I've been waiting for you since decades.
    This journey of quenching the thirst shall end soon.
    Something which was incomplete will get completed soon.
    The skies have bowed down, both the worlds have met.
    Everywhere you see, there's an atmosphere of meeting.
    Palanquins are decorated, Fragrances are spread everywhere.
    Even God himself has come to read this...