481 posts
  • exploreelysian 3w


    It captures
    Fills us with
    Joy, grief
    And ecstasy.


  • aye__writes 4w

    Late but I hope not too late.

    #photograph #wod

    @miraquill @writersnetwork

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    I do not use my camera frequently
    your photograph has been captured by millions of cells in my eyes,
    not ready to let go of the image of you.

    I love the little things
    darling it's true,
    I adore this kind of bijou.


  • amaaraa 4w

    For my love for photographs.
    Such a beautiful poem, a photograph is, it gives you all the privacy.

    #photography #photograph

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    My day starts where yours end. Your day starts when mine dozes off. 12 hours apart we are, held together by silent poems, photographs. I see your sunrise flickering on my eyes. You see my sunset slowing melting down. A part of each other we carry through silent poems. These silent poems are vernacular, lying in our specific region and are not hand written, yet they make us talk with each other.

    A photograph might seem really simple to you. When you go deep in it, you will find more complex poems to be deciphered. A written poem already contains a meaning, but these photographs are the ones that need to be decoded.

    I see my grandma, taking out an old album whose surface is full of dust. She cleans it off with her dry, wrinkled hands. Her bony, bluish hands glide through each photograph and with each photograph her smile changes. Do photographs really tell us in which way we have to smile? I ask her this question and she again gives me a different smile.
    Afterall, created from the same water droplet, snow and rain are not the same. Snow gives a different smile and rain, a different one. And that's what memories captured in a photograph are like, full of nostalgia, creating a whole poem in the myriad of lost hopes, and each poem creates new and different smiles.

    A long lasting zephyr runs through me. I plunge into a warm blanket with my head not engulfed in blanket, creating no barrier between me and the zephyr. The moon and clouds play hide and seek with me, clouds hiding moon from my eyes. I remember how my mother used to hide me from my brother when we used to play hide and seek. I pick up my camera and click a picture and it again creates a poem of a cold night. When I will see the picture somewhere in a distant future, I will remember the coldness covering my head, the long lasting zephyr, the warmth of blanket, the hide and seek with clouds and moon, the hide and seek with my mother and brother.

    Isn't the picture of the cold night a complete poem in a vernacular language that needs to be deciphered? And the most exciting part, only the one who has lived the photograph and the one who understands can decipher it.


  • thelogist 4w

    A photograph isn't just
    A capture of time
    But it's a tombstone of
    A story that now exists
    Only as a memory.

    A photograph locks in itself
    An era of that has now
    Vanished; and preserves
    From the wrath of time a dream
    Those eyes once prayed for.

    A photograph contains smiles
    Laughs and tears, joys
    Friendships & vows,
    Secrets, hurt and regrets; questions
    And stories we no longer talk about.

    A photograph is foe of time
    As it keeps everything intact
    And brings back everything to mind
    Making hearts curse upon the virtue
    That everything heals with time.

    #photograph #wod #miraquill

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  • mimmywrites 4w


    I wish I were a photograph
    You smile for even on your worst

  • m_e_r_l_i_n_2004 4w

    Photographs hides your personality

    And darling,
    Photographs are the lies
    Behind your life
    Which always showcase what
    You are not.

    Photographs are your pal
    Which always shows that you are
    Pale and pare down all your flaws.

    Photographs aren't mirrors
    Yet they act like one.

    Photographs alter your sadness
    Photographs alter your scars
    Photographs alter your pain but
    Photographs can never heal.

  • mathilde 4w

    Photos are beautiful, yes they are,
    But they don't depict the whole story.
    On how I broke, and how I repaired myself,
    Those stories are never told.

    That printed smile on the paper,
    People assumed all is fine,
    But it's me under the vineyard,
    Who has to get pierced everytime.

  • miss_silentlyweird 4w

    This is not the reality right? Tell me is all dream, yesterday I was just holding you and kissing your forehead but now you're gone. We do not know how to start, you're the person that taught us to be strong, I know time will come and death will knock at the door but we never expected to be this soon. I love you mommy, rest in peace we love you!

    #endofdec #photograph
    #listofdec #wod #miraquill
    @miraquill @writersbay

    I was so excited to write for this challenge yet this is what it turned out to be.
    My mom (not biological mom leave us ) so i do not know what so good in this new year��

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    December Gloom

    I feel dry to write
    My gut tell something isn't right
    Maybe everything that end— I fright
    I know I'm not a person who's bright
    And that what I always forthright

    But I never expected this happening
    I hated goodbye and ending
    This is the unruled parting
    I fed up with grief and regretting
    When you leave us — it's devastating

    This house that feels home
    Became quite as doom
    Your hair, smile, moods, call
    Love, laugh, care and overall
    Mark in my heart forever more

    ~ I wish we live in the photographs so that time will freeze in each moment~


  • vandu9 4w


    A photograph is a living memory to see lost and loved ones and is a prized possession for many.

  • pelumeey 4w


    what else delays your intent,
    moves you towards the life you are not?
    what's that,
    that moves you to despair?

    the camera flashes,
    makes you glow
    but you know
    you are not

  • wordsnippet_girl 4w


    In smiles and contented faces,
    love spelled through and beyond,
    the four corners of a photograph.

  • madinah_writes 4w

    Everyone is a moon,
    And has a dark side
    Which he never shows to anybody.
    Character is the lamp
    That brightens our darkness.
    The eyes are the lens,
    Of the heart.

  • snehalv 4w

    We took a photo accidentally
    I was all into you
    & you were posing , smiling & hiding what were you missing .


  • soundsofsaddness41 4w

    Reverse Photography

    "A photo is worth a thousand words, but what does it say about the person taking the Photograph."

  • artemiswrites 4w

    A poem is a photograph of the poet's soul, captured by a pen, which is but an extension of the poet's heart.

  • muskaanbhatttt 4w

    I was lost

    I was lost in the darkness
    With a heart full of hollowness
    You came in my life with a brightness
    Which took away my sorrows and gave me happiness

    You filled my heart with love which was heartless
    Believed your love like a doubtless
    You took away all my love words and made me speechless
    You loved all my flaws like I was always a girl so flawless

    You taught me how to be happy if every situation feels worthless
    You always trusted our love bond when all the world was full of fakeness
    You gave peace to my soul which was so restless
    And at nights you always remain awake whenever I feel sleepless


  • stubborn_bull_7 4w


    Dusting away the pile of old racks,
    Wividly wandering eyes caught something avidly,
    That old self still amazingly pleases the eyes,
    Memories cross paths with the old yet fresh aroma of childhood,
    What can we do to get just one more day of it again,
    I have wondered boundless times ,
    Life never stops nor does age,
    But these memories captured at right time,
    Has a million stories that we still hold dear,
    People part away but our hearts bring them closer than imagination,
    I still play the scenes of us playing games that seem long lost today,
    Every cashew tree smelled of us,
    Every nook had our laughter and corner our tears,
    Hardest part is egress , but I hold you in my hand now a face so perfect and my heart forever,
    You are just the most colourful memory that I withhold in this black and white picture;

  • beleza_ 4w

    cheekinesly click a picture of her chagrin
    & the tipsiness of her eyes captured his smile.

  • su_____ 4w

    Though it's mere 2D photograph
    Yet I c the whole video playing while I watch it

  • pallavi4 4w


    The rose petals in my journal have dried Into shades of brown and your photographs
    In my drawers haven’t tasted air in years now
    Yet your presence haunts me like a persistent ghost
    With no plans of leaving just yet.
    The broken shards of my heart have not yet mended ,
    The scars are still fresh and
    The wounds are still healing .

    I hide them , covering them with
    Unbelievable tales of self injury sometimes
    Trying to convince myself that you never were .
    That you never existed .
    That you did not matter.
    And yet every time I do,
    I know deep inside my heart that that will
    never ever be true….
    So deeply ingrained is the pain that you caused me.

    I still feel you like the winter breeze
    That carries a message of destruction
    In its wake, a cold wave of discomfort and distress.
    I still feel numb.
    I still feel like that rose that was ripped
    Apart by its very own thorns just because
    It fell in love with them and decided
    To give them a chance to get close.
    I still feel like the wood aflame in the fireplace —
    Uncomfortable and undervalued.

    In those pictures that I’ve tried to
    Burn a thousand times to discard memories of you ,
    To rid myself of any shreds of you that still lie connected to me …
    I only see failure.
    A failure to be ruthless ,
    To be heartless ,
    To be able to fight back.
    I still feel like a wreck inside and I know
    My insides are still raw.

    It is delinquency yet I feel one never truly
    Forgets someone they once loved
    No matter how much they hurt them .
    Love like water has memory .
    It retains the forms and shapes it was subject to
    No matter how harshly
    And hence resists replacement.
    The heart does not necessarily need
    What it wants. Yet…..
    We cling for unknown reasons
    To the faded memories of a love that we once knew,
    Trying hard to sniff out the fragrance
    From the dried flowers in our diaries
    Just to feel enamoured again ,
    To feel love again
    Only to be left cold and disappointed.

    I don’t want to remember you, yet I do.
    I don’t want to recognise you yet
    I search for your face in a crowd.
    I don’t want to hurt anymore yet
    I keep one hand firmly on the wounds
    So that they don’t heal completely.
    If they were to be repaired somehow
    Then I feel I would lose you once and for all
    And in the process lose myself once again ,
    Get lost in an unknown wilderness
    That I may not be able to find my way out of again.
    So I keep you alive in my life,
    In the yellowing pictures that
    I cannot get myself to burn
    And the diaries that still house
    The roses you’d once given me.


    28th of December, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #wod #photograph #love_poems #love #love_gone_sour @writersnetwork #miraquill #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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