Midnight Melody
©manosrija
#napowrimo
697 posts-
manosrija 3h
Searching and fumbling through ages of life,
I reach no ground where I stand stable;
I find no feet that's only mine,
Loving the chaos over the cicada songs
too soft to cover up the innermost sounds.
I'm lying down on a deserted bed
Too scared to peek into the dark,
I close my eyes- your voice rings soft
The melody touching beyond the verse
I start to read between
the lines, made so carefully to hide
all that you wish to confide
(in me?)
The scary bed is no more desolate,
Too far from me you weave
your affections
to form the comforter shawl
of hushed melodies, I fear no more
my sounds, that were ignored;
Wrapping me to sleep.
#melody @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @writerstolli #napowrimo -
sidhubalkaran 9h
A quintilla is a Spanish quintain(five line stanza). It has 8 syllables in each line and employs an ab rhyme scheme with at least two lines of “a” rhyme and at least two lines of “b” rhyme. Also, no three consecutive lines may rhyme nor may the stanza end in a couplet. The most commonly used rhyme scheme in a Quintilla is abaab but other variations such as ababa, abbab, aabab and aabba are also used. A decastich, (2 quintillas) is also known as Copla Real.
Every syllable is a mold
words and desires already seen
by the living and all things cold
by the new world, and one that’s old
Every poem that is, it’s (already) been.
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@writersnetwork @mirakee #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #poemoftheday #postoftheday #readwriteunite #rwu #newpoem #newpost #mirakeewrites #mirakeewriters #writingcommunity #poetrycommunity #poetryQ for Quintilla
Every syllable is a mold
words and desires already seen
by the living and all things cold
by the new world, and one that’s old
Every poem that is, it’s been. -
thepastelink 10h
Before finding flaws in others mind
Bring out a mirror of your height
Take a look at yourself first
And tell what do you see at first glance.
During the highs
The best is you
During the lows
The worst is YOU.
@mirakee @writersnetwork
#NaPoWriMoBe the change
To bring the change
To bring the change
We have to change.
©thepastelink -
electric_infamy 13h
Day 20 of #NaPoWriMo featuring the #escapril2021 prompt "stranger than fiction" and the #bybtpromise prompt "and in my pain I promised you tomorrow"
#poetry #poet #poem #writeeveryday #author #published #electricinfamy #neonsunrisepublishingHopelessly Devoted Rushing In
I played the jester once
Though I much prefer the bard
Dealing in flashes of brilliance
And an adventure in song
To the fire eating juggler
With a joke and a rhyme
Yes, I played the fool
How could I not?
We were always on this path
Star-crossed and predestined
Bound for the yellowed pages
Of a 'stranger than fiction' tell-all
And the movie of the week
Despite the looming futility
I went to war and bled for you
Sacrificed my prime
And in my pain I promised you tomorrow
Like I spoke for days and seasons
Yes, I am a fool
The question is whose?
©electric_infamy -
hamallaxmi 1d
Day 20
/Bucket list/
You see I believe in the magic
Of littlest things.
1.Donate hair
2.Dance barefoot to the tunes of the rain.
3.Be on the top of the mountain And listen to Madhubala by Amit Trivedi and to get lost.
4. To get lost in huge jungle just to listen to the birds chirping, play hide and seek with different species.
5. Attend an unknown wedding/reception Just for the food.
6. Attend school/college reunion.
7. Travel solo
8. Make a pot on pottery wheel
9. Surprise the orphanage Home
With the wishlist they had given.
10. Be kind, Love yourself and hate none.
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#napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #bucketlistBucket list
©hamallaxmi -
electric_infamy 1d
Day 19 of #NaPoWriMo featuring the #escapril2021 prompt "mirror" and the #amykaypoemaday prompt "I will love you"....feels good to be caught up...
#poetry #poet #poem #writeeveryday #author #published #electricinfamy #neonsunrisepublishingSomewhere this is Directed at Me
The thoughts that tumble free in the midst of this rumination aren't the most profound...they're littered with cheeseball similes and tired metaphors underpinning poignant feelings that are often only expressed to a silent mirror...and despite all of that there is simply not enough life left to live where it makes sense to keep holding this in...so I'll scream these words until my lungs burst...I will love you like the waves love the shore until the last tide is swallowed by the sea...until the last stars burn out in the ebony night and leave us wishing on a memory...I will love you through the last waltz around the supernova of the sun...until our final breath escapes into the failing atmosphere...I will love you like the laughter of children and the first taste of hot chocolate on Christmas morning...like the smell of God fresh after the rain...Through all the endings and new beginnings..the fabled fairytale reciprocities...I still love you with every tortured lyric and tattooed scar decorating my pounding heart...I will love you despite the silence and the absence...the sort only we two can comprehend...I will love you...I do love you...always and forever...je t'aime...
©electric_infamy -
electric_infamy 1d
Day 18 of #NaPoWriMo featuring the #escapril2021 prompt "nightmare"...nearly caught up...
#poetry #poet #poem #writeeveryday #author #published #electricinfamy #neonsunrisepublishingSpeaking of Sleeping Standing Up
It would almost be funny
To see you in the here and now
With all the practiced malice
And the careful pattern of deceit
You still cling to
Clenched in a fist of misplaced rage
And a tight lipped plastic smile
That hides a mouth bent on war
And decimation
A caricature of all the nightmare clichés
A pathetic pantomime
And yet you still think
You're the pinnacle of fright
But you're nothing more
Than the wisp of a reflection
Unworthy of a mention
Left to the scraps of solar flares
Forgotten and haunted
©electric_infamy -
electric_infamy 1d
Day 17 of #NaPoWriMo using the prompt "power" from #escapril2021 and "the decades of decay" from #kissoftheseventhstarprompts ...getting closer to being caught up...
#poetry #poet #poem #writeeveryday #author #published #electricinfamy #neonsunrisepublishing...and now a word from our sponsors...
We tend not to speak of failures
At least not in any way constructive
Preferring to excise and redact
Those inconvenient details
The kind of historical revisionism
Wielded by acolytes who lust for power
They could never hope to see
Let alone control
But we're all victors here
Perched atop this teetering mound
Of freezing ash and bleached bone
Deflecting decades of decay
With the shining promises
Of our own self-important greatness
©electric_infamy -
wakaranai 1d
//Home is .. ever changing//
This is a prompt I've written on before, and a prompt I've always felt familiar with deep within. Perhaps it's because it's a perpetual feeling, or perhaps the comfort I find in the idea of that
Perfect moment.
Perfect place.
Perfect memory.
Perfect song.
Perfect movie.
Perfect book.
Perfect friend(s).
Perfect conversation.
Perfect hobby.
Perfect vacation.
Perfect looks.
Perfect person.
Perfect career.
Perfect time.
But does it really have to be perfect all the time? Does home really have to settle in all of your missing pieces and make you feel complete? Isn't feeling complete the same as feeling dead, because once you're complete, what is there to even look forward to?
Probably nothing. That's what one would normally think, and just shun away the thought of home saying that it's either worthless to think that home exists, or its the only thing you've craved for since the day you were born.
What if it's neither?
What if it's just a ecstacy that comes by to kiss you with the wind?
What if it's just a flower that blooms at the dawn of a spring?
What if it's just a reminder to cherish moments that made you fall asleep?
What if it's the sound of your heart beating with love,
the one that never lets you sleep?
Robert Frost says he's got miles to go before he sleeps. And as cliché as this reference is, do we really wonder what he really meant by this? Why is it that his poem is heard by millions and still talked of today, when there are a million different roads decorated with a billion different poems? I feel it's because we all relate to him. Maybe it's forced on us, yes, but we all know we've got long ways to go, even if we're exactly where millions would love to be right now.
I don't know what's home anymore. And I don't know if I want to be poetic about it, because that would kill the entire meaning behind my puny existence. Because what's the point in belittling everything to one single entity? And isn't it belittling the existence of home too?
Maybe it's supposed to be much bigger than you think it is, and maybe you're supposed to find it in bits and pieces of all possible little things!
Maybe you'd never find it even if you know how it should feel, and maybe you'd find it exactly when you'd have no idea what it is!
Isn't it the best to just let home be, while we got miles to go before we sleep?
I know this is a very substandard write-up, but I really feel like this needs to be said. No offense to those who have their own home, everybody does. And so do I. But I don't think that whatever we call home today, is absolute. I don't think it's supposed to be that way.
And I know you'd say it's absolute for just you, and not for everyone. But the point here is that even for you that might not be absolute, because you might not feel the same way anymore. Even if you feel the same way anymore, it might not be as intense. It might be even more overwhelming tomorrow, and it might amount to nothing when things take a back seat. And even if you do let it remain the way it has always been, until today, do you really think you're doing justice to your home?
Think about it.
Isn't home, of all feelings, supposed to make you feel absolutely free?
To be anything and everything you ever wished to be?
#NaPoWriMo #podSet yourself free.
-
electric_infamy 1d
Day 16 of #NaPoWriMo using the #escapril2021 prompt "bird of paradise"...still catching up...
#poetry #poet #poem #writeeveryday #author #published #electricinfamy #neonsunrisepublishingThe Pulse Unbroken
I found solace in the thunderstorm
The way the rain danced on the windows
And the lightning crawled across the sky
Minimized the internal tension
The anxiety begging for attention
Melting back into the rumbling distance
Left to breathe
To listen
Daybreak saunters in
Bisecting shadows
Reflecting golden radiation
Across acres of calm
Outside my windowsill
And a Bird of Paradise unfolds
Resplendent in orange and violet
Life hums
Life abides
©electric_infamy -
hamallaxmi 1d
Day 19
It was long tire some
Yet adventoures journey
While turning the pages
Of the book,
I found a flower pressed
Against it,
It was all withered
With the letter attached to it.
As I opened the letter
I found a picture
Of a dog
With an old man beside him.
The moment I saw
I couldn't think about
My bhote
My bundle of joy
My sawari.
I miss him.
Who always kept wagging his tale
And slept beside me.
I kept aside the picture and
Started reading the letter.
With every line I was reading
Thousands of emotions
Seeped in my heart.
I could see my resemblance
As I went on to read the other half of the letter
As mirror reflecting the pictures
Of my own self.
Meanwhile I settled out with my emotions.
It read
April come, take this heart away.
I ain't know whom to this
Letter was.
But I was sure of one thing.
Who has written this has really
Deep resonating ocean Full
Of mixed feelings.
On the other end of it had mentioned
The story remembered wrong.
I will Love you.
Until rainbow becomes monochrome.
Yours,
Awaiting Home.
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#napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #glopowrimoAwaiting Home
©hamallaxmi -
sidhubalkaran 2d
Day 16/26 of #napowrimo2021
We apply the concept of Palindromes in this form of poetry. A Palindrome poem is divided into two halves, with same set of words in both the halves. However the order of words in the second half must be in reverse. Note that there is a word in the middle which acts as a bridge between the two halves. Due to this structure of two halves, it is also known as ‘Mirror Poetry’
While the rules sound very simple, it is equally harder to execute them. For instance, you can’t start the poem with words like ‘A’ and ‘the’ unless you plan to end the poem with them. You will have to use short phrases with minimum use of conjuctions as you have to make sure your words make sense both in the first half and on the way back.
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#palindrome #palindromepoetry #mirakee #writersnetwork #writing #poetry #poem #poems #shortpoems #napowrimo2020 #napowrimo #pod #postoftheday #poemoftheday #newpoemP for Palindrome Poetry
Love awakens and
life changes
Metaphors of desire
Moments sweep you
Till dreams become ashes
Love is
Palindromic,
is Love?
Ashes become dreams
till you sweep moments
Desire of metaphors
changes life
and awakens love. -
harshad09 2d
On the esplanade
deserted, semi-lit
it's 2 a.m. already
a long drive casual
it's turning out to be
an imagery surreal
a fantasy strived
it's like constellation
ethereal
at this hour
when the world around
it has fallen asleep
you are in a car
with a beautiful boy
hearts left to pound
sounds amplified beep
glasses rolled up
dopamine glides
rollercoaster trips
interlocked hands
time travel faster
dark light strands
sentiments foster
as he moves and
moves a bit closer
denials deceptive
fight to evade closure
fog, thinner membranous
makes night scintillating
Triggered ignited hues
passion desirous calling
as if portraying fall
chills keep riding the wind
either to or not to mind
resolutions keep falling
unleashing aura
of touches intimate
jeopardy finds flora
repentance to hibernate
colder airs shouting
excitement and thrill
despite air-conditioning
backseat seems trademill
bodies entangled
breathes colliding
interlocked lips
expressions avoiding
green each, turns yellow
orange red and brown
groovy mazes shallow
uncovered mellow
skin thrown away
velvety party gown
his fingers attempting
to display workmanship
record graphs fluctuating
charms spelt of body worship
sprinkling aurora
Autumnus sets the harvest
a night of assumption
becomes home to craftsmanship
Horae rewriting seasons
allows flow of bewildered zest
Monarch butterflies
seem getting off to travel
intimacies untwined
smears foggy to unravel
moans fill the clan
silence after the storm
eve eats the apple
cocks crowing, it's dawn
fort each joyous charm
creases boasting crumple
#napowrimoSPRIGHT LIGHT NIGHT
©harshad09 -
hamallaxmi 2d
Day 18
I was pondering to
Spill out about
Love on paper
Of that exact same
diary which
You had gifted me a
Few years ago.
I never had such beautiful
Diary.
I really don't understand
How did you got to know
That I like these littlest
Things.
Post cards, dried flowers,
Fountain pen, hand written letters,
And cards filled with love.
I do remember you saying
Pour your heart out in
This diary.
But I never did.
Today i am clueless
How it got in my hands
After years.
You see I handled it with care
I caressed it's papers
It smelled like you.
Like your colonge.
It had its roughness like you had
Those dark deep eyes
Reflected with the unseen pain.
The face gleaming with
Smile.
Heart of a pure kid
Filled with kindness,
Joy and hope.
I never knew
In what kind of reconnoitre
Mission you were in.
But there was this quality
In you of never being rude
I didn't knew how you handled
It.
Maybe you didn't show to hide
Pain.
Just an another way of fighting
With your mind.
I do remember that night
Near some beach in South Bombay
You had let you voice take over
The night.
That melody is still ringing in my
Ear.
Chura liya he tumne jo dil ko...
That moment I felt.
Love was beyond magical.
It either makes you
Or either shatters you.
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#napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #love #alittleloveA little love
©hamallaxmi -
sidhubalkaran 3d
Day 15/26 of #napowrimo2021
Ottava Rima is a poetry form of Italian origin. This form came into being around the late 13th and early 14thcentury and was developed by Tuscan poets. It started out as a form for epic and narrative verse but overtime has been adapted for wide array of subjects.
An Ottava Rima stanza has 8 lines with an abababcc rhyme scheme and is written in Iambic pentameter (10 syllables). Some sources on this form define it as a poem with 8 lines of 11 syllables each. It can work as a stand-alone poem or with multiple stanzas.
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#mirakee #writersnetwork #writing @writersnetwork @mirakee #pod #poemoftheday #postoftheday #mirakeewrites #napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #ottavarima #sidhulogy #instapoetsO for Ottava Rima
It came to me seeking myself anew
Dear old ego writhing in agony
Probing me for some sacred darkness too
Waking up the man living inside me
She walks with me, a purpose to pursue
Carrying a list of those who wronged me
A thread, a nail, and few judgments to cast
and burn down the home that houses the past. -
manosrija 3d
Darkness
_______________
Some lights were big
so were the smiles
blessing the pretty looks
that adore affluence,
The smaller lights shone
on way too many,
Their faces still unseen.
The walls are tough-
too high to climb
too strong to break
too fragile to bend;
The larger lights glorify them
As the smaller ones merely agree.
Oh! A sudden power-cut
They said a fault in the system
The darkness dawns
on all sides of the wall;
I see those vanish,
As we recede in you.
The walls are falling
I stand in the dark,
The lights on success
can no longer mock the failures;
With your equal hand
You stand by time,
I bow down to life.
@writersnetwork @writerstolli
#darkness #equalhand #napowrimoDarkness
©manosrija -
Ars Poetica
A poem should add life to a blank page,
Like the touch of rain, on a parched land
It should feed warmth to a heart
Even if it doesn't rhyme,
Poems should hold muse like a mother's hug
Comforting enough like an old rug,
They might not have a lot of lines
Yet; they leave a deep expression behind
©sheena -
electric_infamy 3d
Day 15 of #NaPoWriMo using the #escapril2021 prompt "planes/trains/automobiles" - playing catch up....
#poetry #poet #poem #writeeveryday #author #published #electricinfamy #neonsunrisepublishingGrounded and Restless
Strange
The things you find yourself longing for
In the grip of isolation
I never thought to miss the sight
Of arrivals and departures
Baggage claim and safety checkpoints
The thrill of takeoff and a plane in flight
Never thought to miss the sound
Of air brakes and mechanical doors
The rhythmic clacking of track on trestles
And the countryside gliding past
In the streak of a bullet train
Never thought to miss the feeling
Of open highways and mountain roads
The rush of air and the Clash on the stereo
Miles devoured in the dead of night
Cross country road trip
In a borrowed automobile
Will it ever feel the same?
©electric_infamy -
hamallaxmi 3d
Day 17
/How did you meet your best friend/
2018 June
I remember you were in jeans
Scarf over your neck.
Nails painted with grayish silver.
First time I saw you I thought
You were a bengali.
Initially we were bit hesitant
To talk
I don't even remember who
Started the conversation
I think it was you.
You asked me about the
Kind of books I read
Cause we were in Book sale haul
Slowly we started getting
To know each other within 2 hours
We followed each other
In all the social media
And exchanged numbers too.
We got bonded so closely
By lunch time that other people
Started asking you guys
Know each other?
You guys are bestfriend?
That very moment we saw each other's face and started laughing
You even started calling me behen
And my world inside me was dancing
With joy.
We had lunch together
We laughed at silly things
We were imitating people.
Within one day we got so close
We couldn't resist meeting each other
The very next time.
Trying out new stuff,
Exploring
Do you remember we used to explore
3-4 cafes in a day.
Our ATA hugs, endless calls, endless photo sessions.
Even after being from complete
Strangers to being
Completely nomad.
We shared every gossip we had.
And we shared the worst fears and
Joys of our Life.
Don't you think books have
actually connected us?
Books really got us together.
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#napowrimo #napowrimo2021 #poetry #poems #howdidyoumeetyourfriendHow did you meet your friend
©hamallaxmi -
manosrija 1w
Time Machine
___________________________
My terrace is a time machine!
Stepping on the open square,
Throwing a gaze into the dark,
I see the man-made lights below
And the celestial giants twinkling above.
The maze grows complicated
as my eyes stretch more,
The blind alleys I see
makes my heart so sore;
I wish to find you,
but here I see no end...
The lights from the streets,
From the factory, the smoke,
The bright decorations for
some auspicious event
At my unknown neighbor's door,
I'm blinded.
Clutching my head I gaze into the stars;
I remove my spects... The clarity dissolves,
I look down upon the extent of brick
As absurdity turns the lights and smoke
to an endless sea of sparkling colors,
Beautiful to behold.
I see what no one can,
How the grasping civilization
smiles on me,
The devouring brightness receding in background,
The time has stopped
I wait for you- to see.
-Manosrija
@writersbay @readwriteunite @writersnetwork #napowrimoTime Machine
©manosrija