27 posts
  • the_speccy_outsider 58w

    In her quintessential style, she sat on the couch smoking her third cigarette. It was true what everyone said about her, she indeed had an intimidating persona. As I ushered her in she gave an icy-cold look of annoyance. And that eventually augmented my nervousness.

    TSO: It is truly an honor to sit in front of you Miss Davis, I....

    BD: Let's cut down the pleasantries and get to the point.

    TSO: Oh, okay. Well I know how passionate you are about your craft. I just wanted to know why so much of it. I mean, to the extent of risking your love life, your motherhood, and family time.

    BD: Aren't you a darling! Well I loved watching plays and had a knack for acting since childhood. When I saw Miss Garbo on screen I'd stare at her with dreamy eyes. It would baffle me as to how can someone who's not really there, captivate everyone's attention.

    And it was the point of epiphany for me and my mother. You know, she travelled with me to all of my auditions. Consoled me everytime the casting director yelled at me. They wanted a pretty gift cover to show-off and I was nothing but a cardboard cutout that did not tickle their male genitals, or their ego, well in their case the lines were blurred in that context.

    That made me tough. You know, I was a Yankee. Giving up was not in my blood. And when George Cukor signed me for my very first acting assignment for the play Broadway, there was no looking back for me.

    TSO: That is quite fascinating. I heard you were terminated multiple times as you didn't have the much needed sex appeal. Why were women's role in films limited to just that?

    BD: Well honey, quite honestly, those bald and fat studio heads wanted to authenticate their fantasies. I was asked to kiss and lay below twenty men for a screen test. Believe me, I so craved for a silver lining, and after playing minor roles like a shadow, it came in the form of Mr. George Arliss who gave me my first break in Hollywood with a leading role opposite him. That's when the Hollywood Elites noticed me. And after a few more roles I finally got my first-ever Oscar nomination for Of Human Bondage, although it wasn't an official one but due to public protest they were forced to give me one.

    TSO: Since you mentioned The Oscars, you've been unapologetically outspoken about your views regarding it. It was evident that you were upset when you didn't win for All About Eve, as per your expectation. But you know what they say about expectations. //Expectations are like heartbeats. Life goes on when the line is both high and low//

    BD: Look at you, comforting me with your philosophical shit. Oh, I so adore your innocence kid. Well, The Oscars and I had an unusual relationship. I was given the honour of felicity for those films and roles that weren't my best ones eventually robbing me for all of my bests, including Baby Jane. How can I forget the night when Miss Joan Crawford walked onto the stage to collect the Best Actress award on behalf of Miss Bancroft, after lobbying the academy members against me.

    Yes I was in deep melancholy when I didn't win for All About Eve, for that was quite frankly, the greatest role of my career. And you know, I too would've gotten it for Gone With the Wind, had they let me play the role of Scarlett O'Hara instead of that incompetent Vivien Leigh. But all said and done, I'm happy with my trajectory.

    TSO: As you said, all said and done. I so admire your audacity to speak your mind. You raised your voice against pay parity, better roles for women, major studio investments for women centric pictures, helping the families of the soldiers we lost during the war, and what not. I mean you brought down the Studio System that literally obstructed all the artists amidst contractual obligations. You were one hell of a trailblazer.

    BD: Hell, yeah! I wasn't going to settle for less just because of my sex. Being a woman did not mean I was to be treated with inferiority. I wanted to speak up my mind through my film choices. Of Human Bondage was considered a blasphemous film but when you see the current ones, it might seem less sensational.

    But it surely jeopardized my personal life. I always thought that my mother was my only friend. But she used to send letters to her friend complaining about me. Telling her how I thought of myself as the Queen and that I was narcissistic. My own daughter hated me and even wrote a book about how I tormented her. I went through four failed marriages. But you know, the only thing that kept me going was my work. And I will keep working till my body gives up. Till my last breath. To still keep the lights on.

    TSO: Thank you so much, Miss Davis for taking time out to have a conversation with me. I used to dream about this since the moment I first saw you on screen.

    And also for not smoking the entire time. That was pretty generous of you.

    BD: My God! You'll kill me with so much of this nicety. And was this a conversation? Felt more of an interview. Never mind, I had a great time. As far as the smoking is concerned, I'm told to not do that at all. And I just had five of them.

    TSO: (Smiles)

    It's better to be hated for who you are, than to be loved for someone you are not. It's a sign of your worth sometimes, if you are hated by the right people- Bette Davis


    #writingcontest #creativearena #felicityc #lettersc #dialoguec #shadowc #melancholyc

    Another ode to yet another legend. A fiesty, sarcastic and exceptionally straightforward lady and artist.

    For posts on similar theme, check out #ScreenLegends

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    Bette Davis

  • taetae_ 59w

    S o m e. W a y s. T o. G e t. P e r f e c t. L o v e.

    Life is a destiny, with journey called fate, bonuses like cars or bikes called luck, on the ROAD(S) called LOVE, while trying to decode Kenshō, that is supercoiled in our DNA, that needs to be decoded, to be known. Not every spirit ends up dying. Some end up living. Living in ukiyo of dreamland or in latibule or after working on dreams and making them come true. We travel on the road with same amount of rocks (memories), same amount of flowers (milestones) and same amount of thorns (sacrifices). The fernweh of reaching love makes you forget that you need to reach life before death.
    Dotage receives rocks, newborns and children receive flowers and matured humans, adults receive thorns mainly.

    God lays these different ways for us to acknowledge them. Their use in our life is to get rid of destinesia. Once you reach your destiny, life disguised in death, you forget the roads and your choices. Sacrifices are choices. Pairing with others is a choice. Love is a road. Be grateful for birth and life.

    The King and The Monk receive same roads. Monk knows to walk alone and clear the roads for others to walk without thorns. But the king, a bohemian, USES chariots, children, wife, his kingdom and his people, and wants only flowers forgetting he needs to take those thorns (difficulties, sacrifices and wars). A monk never complains or feels lonely on thorns. While it's the opposite for the King. Find what's real and what you need. Don't regret any choice and don't forget any promise you made. They were all made by a YOU.

    Dead receive more easy way of love. They're ALONE. The ataraxia accompanies them. While the alive need to accompany the living to walk, some esoteric. Once you walk alone and join others, you can't leave them behind.
    Some flowers don't need to be mentioned. Women and world encourage always. They give strength, they're the catharsis in every form of life, a daughter, a mom, a sister, a grandmother. The way every stage of "Seven Ages", you crawl in love, stand in love, walk in love and run in love. Women seem fragile and despicable to some. But that way, if you leave them behind, who's gonna take those thorns for you?

    Every season gets some bonuses. Some winters get you warmth. Some summers get you relief. Some rains connect with your tears, get your epiphany back and some autumns remind of love, heartbreaks and conflicts. A saga of memories. Metanoia to get known with your fake and your real self. Find yourself.

    Love ain't in the air. It's a path. You're a flaneur seeking solitude in company.
    You need to be a spirit of heavens to seek company in solitude, a real traveller.
    I T. H E L P S. !

    © thesunshineloves

    #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod #lettersc

    Thanks a lot for the like @writersnetwork :')

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    Don't regret or forget any choice or promise.
    They were all made by a YOU.

  • bhawna__ 59w

    M I D N I G H T ♡ T A L E
    ..................... .............. .......... ......... ...... .... ... .. .

    // H A I K U

    And the moonlight smells like that microtale,
    Everytime I talk to you and look at its bright side,
    He (moon) plays the hide 'n' seek to make me ecstatic every time,
    Whenever I get comfortable with,
    He just hides..

    And I smile with pain to live a half life..
    And I search for new one with bleeding heart to make the flowers my close friend for a while..

    And the moonlight smells like my midnight tale.
    I'll write more tales in the garden when I sit on the bench,
    Gracefully, life is mocking at me and I'm smiling at it,

    You aren't next to me but all I'm talking your grace,
    An intimate beauty that I'm gifting through my ink,
    Just live through the fairytale words and leave it free to feel the greenery of love.

    Breathe deep and smile more,
    I'll take care of myself with every thought of yours.//
    ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪ ▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

    I gifted him a paper was having my wishes for myself because I couldn't ask for him.

    He is constantly scribbling some of my annoying beauty that he didn't define annoying.

    Well, for the obvious reasons. And then some counselling kind of words which was not actually counselling but my concern for his constant stabbing on some chaos. He agreed with me to disagree.

    And said that he is not afraid of this universe and I heard that he was the universe of living some of more smiles and more of some broken hearts that he gonna write on the clouds with the pen that he invented with his shining eyes, I don't know how there was some magic in his words.

    Maybe he was just saying it out of numbness or just for my smile, but he said with his sober eyes and the vibes that don't pain, yes I won't call it that way.

    He told me a midnight tale.

    He told me about the unsaid love that he didn't tell but I still write those verses.
    ......................... ................. ..... ..... ... .. .
    In his words:

    // when I ask her if he is angry with me,
    Then he gets angry with my question,
    For he can never get angry with me
    Because I'm insane love for him.

    When I tell him about my fears and I'm scared,
    He also feels that pain of getting in despair,
    Because he can not tell me looking into my eyes
    What he wanted to say that I have those vibes in
    this universe,
    He calls them the most special in this whole

    He thinks I'm innocent, he reads my big dreams
    through my eyes.
    He senses my chaotic vibes, for him I have little
    Somehow I told him the stories,
    Where I sketched some of my childhood
    And then he smiles for my kiddish rhymes,
    For him, he is a grown-up man and for that sake
    I called him a sober child,
    Yeah, somewhere in the lines with the huge
    I laugh slowly and smile peacefully and he
    feels my anger when I scold him passionately.
    And then he wishes for me the powers of the
    For the greatest strengths and to give me the
    heart with the strongest love,
    And he was praying for me when his eyes were
    his heart was numb and he stopped thinking
    about the countings that do not count anymore
    until he sees the
    new colours of dusk to dawn and the new
    rhythms to have
    a poem with renewed vigour.

    And he prays more, he smiles more (I don't know if he does but for me, yes)
    He wishes for me that I'll walk on the shores with the strengths that I have a love for,
    But the power for me, he wishes for my sanity
    the journey when I'll be walking to make my powers my armour too.//


    // He scribbled some love and counted that in uncountable
    He wished me for my day,
    That is yet to come in the hope of a new ray,
    I'm still there standing on the shores,
    And I wish he'll come there to wish me having his hands
    with the beautiful flowers.
    Lilys with white haze or the orchids in purple shades.//

    // and he reminded me to be free,
    To create the courage out of fear to live the words for me,
    He painted a portrait again,
    He told me with my incomplete pen,
    The colours are learning to make its shades for the times,
    But for me it's my scribbling portraits that do a complete rhyme,
    Still sketching more but in the wholesome skies,
    We are friends for universe if you know the little beauty of timeless sober wine,
    Don't panic for the beauty you have created to make some teary smiles.//

    //And I'm still waiting for you in the midnight sky,
    Of the yellow, purple and green garden where the leaves are forming the stars to make the moon swing for a lullaby,
    To sleep peacefully and to wake up next morning,
    With the beauty that your smile have,
    With the flames that sunshine fly in the oceanic wave with every beauty of its tide and with the mointains of reassembling my scars,
    From the moonlight that I talk to,
    I talk to through its light,
    And I know when it doesn't shine,
    You're still there having the another world for a while.//



    October 20, 2020.
    @mirakee @writersnetwork
    #writersnetwork #ceesreposts #pod #writersbay #lullabyc #readthisJ
    #midnighttale #writers_paradise #abstractc
    #mirakee #poem #story #clown #microtale #life
    #talk #lettersc
    #humblebee @kehta_hai_joker
    BG: google pinterest

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    H A I K U

    Midnight tales,
    I'll say for you,
    for the beautiful days.

  • bhawna__ 59w

    F A I R Y T A L E L U L L A B Y

    All the emotions from eternity to the moment I know it's last.

    October 19, 2020.

    #writersblock #littlekids #season #writingcontest #creativearena #life #poetry #poem #lettersc #sleep #peaceful #breathe #stars #universe #coloursc #fairytales #humblebee #writersnetwork #pod

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    F A I R Y T A L E L U L L A B Y

    I'll see you again,
    he said and left.
    A little heart,
    the kid who was crying
    to mute his sobbings,
    His voice was a lullaby to his mother,
    Her mother's smile was a song to his sleep.
    and I was looking at his eyes from a distance
    where the measurement
    was just my stretched lips
    to make me smile when my eyes
    wanted to make the tears alive.
    I'll write you a letter from the ink of
    VIBGYOR white and then I know its darkest showers,
    'VIOLET' for your warm hug
    when I was crying and your sobs were shy,

    'INDIGO' for the long walks staring at the sky
    which I never had with you but still searched
    through the mirror of the mountains that I see you and talk to the moon,

    'BLUE' for your eyes that the ocean I visit through your diaries like a canvas of the asteroid,

    "GREEN' for your love for me that always bloom into a flower to make my eyes feel sober and blush with shine,

    'YELLOW' for our favourite colours that floral wall you have painted to make the fantasy world for our little souls playing all winters and then spring comes,

    "ORANGE' for your love for black and grey T-shirts to fight with you teasing and calling it an orange fruit rush,

    'RED' was always undefined for the sake of our connections that we both hated this colour

    and my love for "WHITE" made you wear that grandpa's satin work,
    I'll see you again,
    In that universe and another terrain,
    I'll draw our story for one more fairytale,
    so that I can love you at least in my dreams,
    and if they don't come to me or broken,
    I'll write you a poem,
    If it doesn't sound having music,
    listen to my voice for you a lullaby,
    I'll be sleeping to forget the reality,
    and you sleep in my arms the only abode I have,
    and then I'll tell you a fairytale,
    I'll be singing an old song.
    but I'll be standing all alone,
    as my eyes open the lids of the story and the reality unfolds.
    // I'll live the eternity for a while,
    I'll keep your smile alive,
    I'll never let your tears suffocate,
    I'll sing you a lullaby.//

  • _mathematics 59w

    the frequent call
    of the only contact
    With the hope of an alibi
    arouse often when I dial.

    sometimes, it's busy
    and sometimes missed
    With the hope of an alibi
    arouse often when I dial.

    rarely, I could hear
    the words, my heart envy
    With the hope of an alibi
    arouse often when I dial.

    serene emotion to
    walk outdoor to meet
    With the hope of an alibi
    arouse often when I dial.

    the soothing whispers
    reaching my nerves
    to relish the epoch
    the love bestows
    with the hope of an alibi
    again to be heard soon

    the call log
    engaged but empty
    cause the lack
    of words, I confessed
    Now lag behind
    with the fear of losing you
    the girl, I only love.

    the contact reaches
    top when a random
    call beeps up
    to peace out the heart
    you did call meanwhile
    you don't actually.

    It's not you, the wrong
    but the fault in stars
    I used to chat with
    once during childhood
    to meet my wish
    of falling like a star

    getting arrest in
    epiphany of agony
    I forgo when the
    story swivels the path

    from calling ever
    to just dialing
    with the hope of an alibi
    arouse often when I dial.

    recorded voice calls
    and captured tape
    bestows relief of
    pain I struggle
    when finds absence.

    Even the booth
    seems civil to
    be invented initially
    to connect to you
    despite the cipher
    chance of your presence
    along my side
    like before.

    You were not wrong
    neither I was
    But the situation did
    by distancing me
    from you, I envy to
    be around always.

    Not upset about an alibi
    but dawdling for the day
    I answer your call
    leading us to a fix
    we met at the start.

    #epoch #picturec @writersbay
    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod

    the Title format I learned through
    @zohiii post ( [UN]EARASED ), I read once.

    @raika, I promised to re-write my LIST POEM.
    The word limit does exceed but here it is. Also, pardon me for posting late.

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    Call l(o/a)g


  • bonitasarahbabu 59w


    An epiphany she reached,
    She has none other than God.
    Her demeanor needed to change
    Her life she needed to grab.
    Inevitably, her clinginess was her downfall,
    She attached herself to people.
    This caused her more pain
    And this, this is the reason isolation is important.
    Loneliness needed to be overcome
    And she needed to accept being alone.
    People like her need to be alone,
    People like her need to isolate themselves.
    This is an important epiphany,
    An important lesson to learn and accept.

  • bhawna__ 59w

    T R U S T
    I don't trust you either,
    I live with the lies dear,
    I trust the mysterious life,
    The way it always lies.
    The way we trust each other.

    October 18, 2020.
    @mirakee @writersnetwork #emberc #trust
    #writingcontest #creativearena
    #writersnetwork #mirakee
    *meddling thoughts*
    *messed up toss*
    *I loved the word Trust*
    *the way its crust*
    P.S. : Okay, so here's my first #writingcontest #creativearena :p
    (from the procrastinator that I am)

    P.S.S: shagun ka 11th like from writersnetwork .. Pj :p

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    T R U S T

    "TRUST" starts with the true statements,
    statements that don't have the explanations,
    If I'm lying, would you like to trust me?
    and there goes the trustworthy crime.

    "TRUST" is a promise,
    that I didn't promise,
    but you understand,
    even if I break one.

    // Do I need to give you a promise for an evident trust?
    If yes, then why do you say it trust rather than a test?//

    I have told many lies to my parents and they trust my lies and smile.

    I have done a false crime and my love says that I never trusted you and your cry.

    I guess opinion is an experience that people used to get while forgetting the difference between biased and unbiased, and ultimately it goes in the bias of the touching experiences.

    and when it comes to trust,
    whenever I was asked in my life the same question,
    "Do you trust me?"

    I never had an answer.

    okay, I'll explain.
    whenever this question came to me to say Hello,
    I was like "who are you?"
    and "what your occupation is?"

    Trust said, "I'm your best friend and worst enemy".

    Trust gives you a thousand questions in its lifetime and still you choose to trust.
    Because trust is an asset that costs a million lies to make the trust to make its definition tough.

    I don't trust you but I do exist,
    Trust does exist when I do not trust you.
    I know you don't trust me,
    Trust flirts with us as we take it in the mirage of loving lies.
    Trust is never special to die.
    It's a back flirt to the skies.

    // we don't trust people but at the cost of it.
    Trust dies but we cherish its ember alive.//

  • sarcasticbong 59w

    Words - Epiphany, hype
    #lettersc Image credit ©sarcasticbong
    Sorry for being late, had a long day. ��

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    Oh DEAR!

    It's Saturday night bright sight
    Tykes sniffing live nine
    Spinning light beaming alright
    Rolled some fine pipe
    Stuck by an Epiphany
    Cloud nine over my head.

    Oh dear, did you hear
    Woke are going broke
    Joke under the influence of Coke
    Midnight snacks and daylight dreams
    They look like Pinhead memes
    Trying to create a hype or should i call phoney type overripe.

    My game is above your claim
    I'm the egoistic godzilla
    With an army of gorilla
    Metaphors run in my veins
    Like Flash in the Central City lanes.


  • ashamurali 59w

    Inspired by the advice of @mirakee_ki_daadima

    Lockdown inspired many people to cook and it suddenly became fashionable to post pictures of cooked dishes online!

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #daadigotyourback #readthisj #pod #joyofhousework @writersbay @writersnetwork @mirakee #mirakeetrend #lettersc @taekook_maknae

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    Cooking just got cool!

    I have never liked housework,
    I would rather some other work,
    I would always dodge and shirk,
    Topic at home for many a firework!

    Why to cook and help mother?
    I would rather sit and order!
    With choices like no other,
    Who wants to slog and bother?

    Housework, oh! very boring ,
    It's a work worth ignoring,
    It doesn't send spirit soaring,
    I would rather go out exploring.

    Then came the lockdown,
    Every shop was shut down,
    Not allowed to go around town,
    I was the verge of breakdown.

    Then came the moment of epiphany,
    Why should I be always in agony,
    Cooking sure breaks monotony,
    Online friends gave me company.

    Let me try out new dishes,
    Cook as per my own wishes,
    Joy when one accomplishes,
    Tasty food that one relishes!

    Housework is not so bad after all,
    Together we can finish them all,
    No work is big or small,
    Done with love, it will enthrall!


  • the_moustached_poet 59w

    Word I choose is HAPPY for the daily challenge by @writersbay.
    #197tmp #lettersc #writersnetwork #pod #writersbay @mirakee
    Previous post at: #196tmp
    《Thanks,@writersbay, for the like.》

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    The balloons flew in the fair
    and while the vendor ran
    to catch them, the slumboys
    laughed heartily...
    Happy faces lit up,
    warmed the winter air.


  • _sa_ba_ 59w


    A lustrous nap is all I desire now.


  • wilmaneels 59w

    -Epiphany, the mind's playground-

    He had an epiphany
    In that moment, he knew
    There was no turning back
    This is who he wanted in his life
    But he got sidelined
    Wanting to stay, having to go
    What if he returns in a few months
    She might not be there anymore

    That messed with his head
    He had this what if battle going on
    While his heart played their own tune

    He had to remember that nothing was guaranteed
    Time, only time will reveal how this scene plays out

  • the_moustached_poet 59w

    I have chosen the word PEN for the daily challenge by @writersbay.
    #196tmp #writersnetwork #writersbay #lettersc @mirakee #themoustachedpoet
    Previous post at: #195tmp
    《Thanks,@writersbay, for the like.》

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    nostalgia is addictive,
    drives me into euphoria,
    blots my words
    through my pen...
    emotions mixed...
    inks turn into tears -
    speechless, paralysed


  • bhawna__ 59w

    #lettersc #writersbay
    @mirakee #upsc

    random thoughts and exhausted brain.

    P.S. when I'm trying to read the "The Hindu" and "the Indian Express" articles after a long time.. but failed :((

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    E P I P H A N Y

    I hope I'll be remembered
    through the poems
    which don't have music,
    Then it would be just my voice
    that will be dissolving in your soul
    and I'll come back to you
    with all the numb roles
    that I haven't played
    when you were gone.
    I hope I'll be remembered
    more than your poetries,
    that you have told me
    when I was sad,
    when I was smiling I hope
    it would be a story to tell,
    when I was rhyming the words
    of your rough tone,
    without telling you that
    I was always there
    in invisible norms.
    I hope I'll be remembered
    in the letters that I'm not.
    I don't know If my last breath,
    but I hope a beautiful death.

  • say_me_krish 59w

    | Daring deaths |

    There are some junctures when you start loving Edgar Allen Poe and his poems; I too am living in this genus of the contemporary. The aureole around the moon seems aphotic and befuddled in the night times; it looks like radiances losing their own charisma in front of despondency. I really felt like an alamort soul who has been transpierced just once and thrown besides the dug up sepulchre to bury myself. It is all understood of late by the fact that all contradictions don't turn out as postulates just like you expect; this word called 'Unexpected' pops out of any nook and corner.

    When I 'Fell' in love, I felt butterflies flying in my stomach with the best feelings dancing triumphantly in the air of my heart. But as soon as I realized that I had drowned, I was only left with memories which were mere butterfly times, which flew yonders away from me. Being an lepidopterologist might have helped maybe, but it is all fair to cascade first and rise with a heap of memories in hand then. It wasn't strange for me, some things are meant to bring miseries, and they surely will. Epiphanies have crossed my mind saying: "Not all angels fly, some wings are ripped apart".

    I never believed in kismet's play, till listening to Taylor Swift's 'Treacherous', coz the title breathed of my experiences, and shadowed me somewhere. When I first met her, I felt it was all done, and indeed, it ended, but as a dark poem rather than a fairytale. I had seen my cosmos in her almond eyes, a bunch of galaxies and a millions of stars with shimmering sagas of our love. After sayonaras, I unexpectedly found myself in the abyss, the black one. When you leave yourself in someone, finding yourself back can never happen. The ones who hold your journals must return it too. It holds signifance as well.

    Death doors had some light for my fáilte with all pride amidst the biggest pandemic, but when I realized I, myself, was the disease(d), I shattered into pieces, literally, smithereens. I'm feeling incomplete of since broken. Crimson- hued glasses are all distorted mercilessly. It takes something to realize the very fact that you are not you anymore. But somehow, I bite the bitter gourds. I desire to wave to death by gathering all my fragments which she broke up, take back all my happy hopes she snatched, get hold on everything of my universe; I want it all back, except Love. Love hurts when it doesn't have two streams uniting together for oceans without horizons, right?

    I wouldn't die of sorrow and pain, I would wish to be averted in the confines of a photo frame after bringing a tempest rather. I wish to be a strong persona; penning down dark proses isn't my genre anymore. I will emerge victorious, I will bring back at least a part of myself, safe and sound. By then, be ready to invite me into your abode, the one having rooms of Expiry dates.

    /Are you ready for me?/

    ~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Oct 17, 2020

    Highly inspired by @clockwork_mnemosyne ����

    @writersnetwork @writersbay @thewordplayer
    #skp_writes #shadowc #lettersc
    (Epiphany, happen, happy, pain, any, heap etc)

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  • nivey14 59w

    #epiphany #lettersc #pod #jin #love #bts
    @mirakee @writersnetwork

    October 17 2020 , 6 pm ��

    ◦•●◉✿ ���������������� ✿◉●•◦

    Last year
    My uncle bought a car he dreamt of long
    This year he bought another adorable.

    Last month
    My cousin ordered her most favourite outfits
    This month I couldn't see that anymore.

    Last day (yesterday)
    My friend fought with me for kpops, I see
    Today she fight with others for them.

    Last time
    I saw an old grandma feed by her son
    This time I see her cooking for herself.

    All the time
    Someone loves something changes and
    Every time I see love is now some else.

    That time
    I never know what one call love mean to be
    This time too I keep wandering here and there.

    And each time
    I end up just left within me and my love
    Anywhere I turn I have only me and myself.

    So, ���� ���������������� ���� �������� ������������ ��...!!


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    That time
    I never know what one call love mean to be
    This time too I keep wandering here and there.
    And each time
    I end up just left within me and my love
    Anywhere I turn I have only me and myself.

  • l_stargazer 59w

    I need a place to hide
    as I rip my vexation, ashen hope, and melancholy
    off my weary skin and hollow bones.

    I need a place to respire
    as I crawl out of this creeping, crippling
    soul-consuming darkness.

    I need a place to conceal
    to restore my slowly rotting core
    while picking my fallen petals and shackling my storms.

    A cacophony of ear-piercing silence
    with all this well-kept chaos and flickering essence,
    I seek refuge to find my metaphors lost in dejection.

    I seek a place to hide
    to be my steady ground
    to breathe and grasp satori blazing my flesh;
    an epiphany for my tattered, glinting existence.
    I strive to renew my figurative and wear-out skin,
    to finally bleed rhymes and poesy again.

  • pallavi4 59w


    Maybe we don’t write
    For other people to read
    And appreciate......
    Maybe poetry is a way of
    Listening to oneself and
    One’s incomplete stories
    By putting them down on paper.
    That incomplete melody
    Buried deep inside flows
    Into the words, the metaphors
    Like tracing the rim of a glass
    Half filled with water -
    Waiting for it to resonate ....
    Every sound, every vibration
    Gets amplified the minute
    It is felt by a poet.
    To be able to deduce the
    Happenings of daily life,
    People and emotions into
    Prose and poetic verses
    Is the ability of a great writer
    And likewise of great poetry .
    Maybe one writes not to only
    Express oneself but to be
    Heard in a soundless room ,
    To be felt , to be touched
    And in turn touch others
    In ways only a poet can .
    Prose may not seem much
    But it is the lament of
    Broken hearts, unfulfilled promises
    Undiscovered dreams
    Universal truths and judgements.
    Maybe poets write to sum up
    And decide within the lines of text
    How to break free from the
    Seemingly chained up life
    And free oneself from bonds.
    If poetry is a form of expression
    Then a poet is a magician
    This is my moment of clarity ...
    My epiphany


    17th of October, 2020

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Once upon a time” by Elizabeth on earth

    #lettersc #epiphany #poets #poetry #musings #thoughts #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee

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  • adithir 59w

    Refer -

    Ligneous - Woody
    Eudaemonic - Happiness ; Conducive to bliss
    Pernoctated - Pass(ed) the night
    Panache - A flamboyant way or manner
    Conamore - (Italian) tenderness, love, sweetness
    Concatenate - Connect ( link )
    Anaclitic - A strong emotional dependence on others
    Fetid - Malodorous
    Besmirched - Ruin(ed) someone's reputation

    II Candles cry II refers to eschewing the person who supported you in your darkest or bad times in your life ; The one who lit up a flame of faith while you lounged in the dark.

    #ad_villanelles #daadigotyourback #adithirc #readthisJ #poems_adithirc #lettersc @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    II Candles cry II

    Whilst thee pernoctated under panache's flame
    Did a callous zephyr of incrassate blues blew,
    Betwixt all that do we is concatenate in it's game.

    Anaclitic are both of us, I go ; and you my fame
    Skirring 'cross those galette's of light-dark hue,
    Whilst thee pernoctated under panache's flame.

    A swing of being for each other in no name
    Fetid 're my flames burnt ; You blow to it lieu,
    Betwixt all that do we is concatenate in it's game.

    Those conamore juices seemed poured shame
    Besmirched in a bottomless drought; all blue
    Whilst thee pernoctated under panache's flame.

    Few stardust shards of your mind seemed lame
    If I could only light up and ingress thy heart's hue
    Betwixt all that do we is concatenate in it's game.

    I am in the ligneous forest of ribbon-slim fame
    As chest blooms eudaemonic epiphanies anew
    Whilst thee pernoctated under panache's flame
    Betwixt all that do we concatenate in it's game.


  • rekhuu 60w

    I thought "You" and "I" were two different words, but one single soul. How stupid I was for the hype that I gave "us". We were poles apart always and in the process of loving you, I lost my individuality as everything revolved around your needs. Unaware of the facade that you were masquerading and failing to realise that you were an opportunist just like a hyena. Thanks to the clarion call of the divine abode for having brought the elusive epiphanies to my reach. I'm supplied with seraphic metaphors and mellifluous verses like medicine to cure my heartache.

    O iridescent metaphors.!
    let thousand splendid suns
    enlighten my soul to see the light
    even in the darkest of nights. .


    #lettersc @taekook_maknae

    Thank you so much @writersbay ❤️

    #writingcontest #creativearena


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    E P I P H A NY

    The surreal droplets of magic
    from my pen leaks awe inspiring
    epiphany of my metaphors
    for my final swan song