81 posts
  • paridhi_k 2w


    Ek safar jo kabhi khatam nahi hota
    Hum is safar per nikalte toh hain yeh soch kr ki sab apne qaabu mein hai
    per jab chalna shuru krte hai toh dheere dheere it feels ki
    Control is a transient cloud vanishing slowly and teasingly, making sure I know that it's never going to come back again.
    Per phir bhi hum uthte hai ek nayi subah ki talash mein
    Oh dear God why haven't you taught us humans to just give up and be content with it why do we always keep looking for places that'll hurt the most...
    Kyuki yeh safar hi kuch aisa hai
    Har mor ek naya chehra hai
    Jo bolta toh hai
    Per samajhna hume khud hi padhta hai, kyuki
    The people who help us understand life actually make it more complicated for us
    Kyuki sukh aur chain ke safar me koi hamare saath chah kr bhi nahi chal sakta, because
    Unka raasta alag hai, unki us raaste se ummeedein alag hai
    Expecting someone to be ok with something just because you are ok with it, yeh toh berahmi hai
    Aur hamara khuda hame bereham hona nahi sikhata
    Phir bhi hum logon ke liye kaante ban jate hai
    Even when we take flowers only our thorns are chosen to define us
    Kaisi duniya banaayi hai tune e Maalik, yahan to acchai ki tareef nahi touheen hoti hai
    Pyaar aur mohabbat insaaf toh sirf kitaabo tak simat ke reh gaye hai,
    Chamak Dhamak ne aakhon ki roshni pheeki kr di hai,
    Once upon a time beauty use to lie in the eye of the beholder,
    Per ab toh hum kya dekhte hai, kya sochte hai kya mehsoos karte sab mein doosron ki marzi hoti hai
    Apne faisle khud lena khudgarzi hoti hai
    Minding our own business gets the tag of anti social and arrogant
    Aur ho bhi kyun na mere dost
    This world works on flattery the most
    Having known genuine is a privilege that's not bestowed on all.
    And sadly, genuine is demeaned the most.
    Is duniya mein jeena ek kala hai Shona
    Aur jab tak hum voh seekh na le
    Tab tak safar hi krna munasib hoga
    Aur is safar ko hi manzil samajh taskeen hona hoga...


  • rahoof 6w


    Between the depth of the night's alluring darkness, and in between the peak of the evening sky. look out for the meaningless pauses where you find your mind often zoning out to be.

    So lets ease -floating in between-vision blurred on the same ecstasy.

    Maybe you'll find out what your life was missing or find yourself tapped back to your senses from today's - very first daydream.


  • meera_parvathy 7w

    Since you refrain from coming over, let me recall a few things;

    The broken strand of hair on a greasy, blue comb which I had misplaced in your bag, the acrimony of the neighbour's nature that bedews her intricacies anointed with anxiety, the hullabaloo of vendors selling Chana masala on a busy March afternoon, the sigh of relief and the relaxed gulping of water from a half-filled Bisleri bottle on knowing you are early to board the train, the solemn Subhapanthuvarali that refused to leave the room through the cracks on the wall, the thorns of the Bougainville which grew wild all over the row of decrepit hoses that held too many secrets and the laughs of two girls dressed in lace frocks that swayed with the cobwebs beneath the stack of dilapidated books.

    Let us write over the lines that a finished pen made on the last pages of my journal and exult when our maladies take favorable turns.


  • devilfish 30w


    Don't play without understanding

    Our minds fray like rope when we

    Try to move while we are still

    A move is necessary and it's completion

    Is withstanding the force that pushes against

    Us as we try advancing the wind moves

    Like an accomplice to time

    Why is it that mine is so demanding?

    My mind is going to explode if I

    Keep thinking as I remember

    I feel it expanding these days are full

    Of regret while I spent my time chancing

    Dancing and banding with one perspective

    As I crash into realities 3 dimensionality

    I insult my own integrity as I am landing

    Standing stagnant and even will couldn't

    Answer the pending letter as I don't feel

    It's urgency

    My life force like a timid ocean is regressing

    Like a feral dog tired as I am starved

    Exhausted as I'm panting in a corner

    Not understanding scare of my own shadow

    The past is understanding

    Couldn't find the words we haven't spoke

    They will be there if you would like their


    I think it's time to start necromancing

    Introspection is necessary for planning

    Advancing with a new understanding

    A new way of handling

  • mrspectacular 31w


    Immediately she leaves his office, Henderson is woken up into reality by Henrietta, his Gilford Holdings colleague. He gets up furious almost attacking her. He restrains himself wondering why she has decided to obstruct his pleasant experience.
    'What do you want?', the chairman is around and would like to see you immediately', she says a bit troubled on his behalf.
    Quickly rushing out, he heads for Sir Bentley Conwart's office. Knocking on the door, he is asked to come in and offered a seat before Sir Bentley Conwart.
    'You don't look good, Henderson. Are you okay?', Sir Bentley Conwart asks concerned.
    'I'm okay sir', he says feigning there is nothing bothering him. 'Why wouldn't I be?'
    'You tell me', Sir Bentley Conwart asks reclining in his chair. 'I mean while I was away in Tunisia, a little bird told me you are not happy with your job here'.
    'Nothing of such sir', Henderson replies. 'I love my job here. I mean yes, I would love to grow and get new jobs or even start my own company but I do love my job here. I mean a bird in hand is better than ten thousand......'
    'Here', Sir Conwart hands him an envelope. 'There is your severance pay along with a 50% addition for your commitment so far. We would not want to force you to be miserable all your life working with us. Please turn in your resignation before the close of business tomorrow. We indeed wish you the best ahead'.
    Henderson does not know whether to thank Sir Conwart or plead with him for an explanation so he quietly leaves Sir Conwart's office to go clear his desk. It is the hardest he has ever done walking through the office with his things in the glare of his fellow employees.
    Getting home while the rest of the family are still out, he just lays on his bed confused and distraught. He sleeps for a while until again it is interrupted by his wife who calls to remind him to pick up the kids from school and later on come over for her.
    Quickly, he rushes out to the car and driving out, heads for the Dayspring College, where his children school. Picking them up, he drives them over to the house in an awkward silence. They can all tell something is wrong but they decide to keep quiet about it till their mother returns then they will probably talk about it as family.
    Few hours later, Henderson rushes out again to go pick his wife, Sandra from her office to the house. He drives pretty distractedly and almost rams into a street light pole in the process.
    Successfully arriving her office in one piece despite his absent-mindedness in piloting his car, he waits for her a little while after giving her a call to notify her of his presence at the parking lot of her office.
    Waiting a few minutes and noticing her approaching the parking lot, he starts his vehicle and drives over to meet her midway. 'So how did your day go? Hope not too hectic?', he asks as she enters into the vehicle and they drive off discussing the issues at hand. When they pull into the driveway of the house, he puts the car in park and just as Sandra is about to get down from the car to go into the house and meet the children, Henderson breaks the news,
    'I lost my job today'
    Sandra hesitates a bit unsure if she heard correctly while still smiling from the jokes they had told each other on the way home,
    'You said what?'
    'I lost my job today', he reiterates
    Sandra, lost on how to act, simply pulls him in for a tight hug saying,
    'We'll be alright, my love', she says assuringly. 'We will be alright. This may even be a good opportunity to start that company you have always been dreaming of.'
    After a little while of holding each other in their arms, Henderson says staring straight into Sandra's eyes,
    'How lucky am I to have you in my life?'
    'Very lucky I tell you', she says with a smile. 'Very lucky. Now can we go inside. I'm so tired'
    'Don't worry', Henderson smiles. 'You just go freshen up. Dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes'
    Sandra slips into her room unwilling to attract the attention of the kids before she freshens up, ably distracted by Henderson who asks the kids to come join him in the kitchen to prepare dinner for everyone,
    'Hey kids', Henderson screams happily. 'Come join me. Let's prepare dinner for your mum. She is on her way and you know she will be too tired to do anything of such'.
    Excited by the idea, they all join him in the kitchen and in ten minutes, dinner is ready. Then Gabriel screams, 'Welcome, mum'.
    Everyone's eyes move in Gabriel's direction. Right there standing is mother, wife and able accountant, Sandra dressed in a nice red silk gown. The kids run towards her and dragging her to the table, they begin to dish out their creations into her plate with smiles all over their faces.


  • mrspectacular 31w


    Henderson wakes up in a world that seems unusual. He cannot understand a thing. He can not remember anything aside having fallen asleep some hours ago.
    'What the hell is going on here?', he queries his person unaware of how and why he is where he is at the particular point in time. This place would, in a little while, become his only reality. He would remember nothing of the real world as the real world, not his wife nor his six kids, not even his nerve racking job. All of those would be something surreal to him.
    Picking himself up from where he had landed after the short transit from the real world to the dream world, he goes for an exploration of the arena. A few kilometers later in this beautiful, awesome and flawless life he is now living, he notices himself growing weaker and weaker with each step he takes in the dream land. The building he sees brings to mind all he has always wanted to achieve, chains of investments in his name and money that made the world seem like everything is actually free. His legs give up on carrying him like twigs saddled with the responsibility of carrying an entire forty tonne equipment. Collapsing into the wet earth, he can feel himself sinking into the ground.
    Sandra, his wife is startled when she hears him scream out of his sleep as he jerks back into reality, sweating and dead-faced.
    'Another one of your fantastic dreams?', she asks a bit terrified. Henderson nods. 'You need to see a therapist because I am getting fed up with all of these honestly. I have not been sleeping fine for the past couple of days. I mean you make feel like I am not good enough for you and this family is not okay or something. I'm just tired. Please you need to check yourself up.'
    'C'mon honey', Henderson begins. 'They are just dreams. Everyone has them and have I ever complained to you that I do not like the fact that we are together. If anything, you are my goodluck charm. I just wish I could give you more than these. That's just it'.
    'My love, we will be fine. You are doing just enough, okay?, she says trying to inject some positive energy into his bones. 'Now, get up and get ready for work. You know Sir Bentley Conwart does not like slothfulness at work. Meanwhile I will go get the children up and get them ready so that we can all go out for our daily pursuits together'
    Sandra knocks on the door to the children's room. Gabriel, the third of their six kids jerks up out of his sleep, while the others remain trying to sleep some more, to go find out who is at the door. He opens the door to see his mother standing in her night garment still sleepy-eyed. She sees the other kids still very fast asleep. Each one of them so peaceful and calm. Unwilling to get crazy so early in the morning, she passes the responsibility of reminding the others what day of the week it is to Gabriel before leaving to go get prepared herself for the day's work.
    'Wake up please. It's 6am on a Tuesday', Gabriel says with a quiet and calm voice as she goes around the rectangular room waking each duo on each double decker bed reminding them of the day they are to have ahead.
    Gabriel has gotten accustomed to the culture of waking up his siblings both older and younger by way of choice. Each day he would come by their bed chanting his wake-up signals and they would always give him the look that suggests, 'Go away. We don't need your reminder. We can wake ourselves up'.


  • differentlywired 34w

    The Interference

    A single waveform cruising through space,
    Reverberating to a curvy polynomial,
    Picking up variables on a free pass,
    Splicing dimensions as if it could straddle the universe,
    Powering up in a delusion that it's asymptotic,
    Reveling in its own differential harmonics,
    Gaining momentum like a juggernaut,
    Stretching so much that even the red shift couldn't keep up,
    Branding itself on a realm woven by its own frequency,
    A colossal polymorph existing only through transformation functions,
    But then came a sweet and simple binomial,
    A compelling, unassuming expression that just had to be assimilated,
    For how could a sphere not encompass a line,
    But the mathematical monstrosity faltered,
    With every attempt to synchronise,
    Decomposed and leveled by a mere interference,
    Wondering if Occam's Razor prevailed.


  • differentlywired 34w

    The Mellifluous Melancholy

    When your breath has been sucked out of you,
    When your rhythm has been scrambled,
    And all you hear is the sound of silence,
    When you no longer feel the rush of your blood coursing through you,
    When your spark has been drowned by waves of despair,
    Let yourself get buried and hit rock-bottom,
    For only in that stillness can you remember why life was worth it,
    For only the flashback can set you ablaze once more,
    For only the right pieces of your past can make you whole again,
    Let yourself sink to find your anchors,
    'Cause only then can you unmoor your ship and set sail once more,
    Let yourself be shattered,
    For only then can your core resurrect you in the right way,
    Embrace the pile of earth above you and become one with it,
    For only then can you emerge as a new sapling,
    Give in and fall into the abyss,
    For only then can you climb towards the light above,
    Let the guilt and regret fracture your soul,
    'Cause only then can you discover love that fills the cracks,
    And meaning that binds the splinters of your soul,
    Life was your mirror but you chose to only see everything and everyone around you,
    The present was your music but you danced to the tunes of your past,
    While waiting to sync with the rhythm of an unknown future,
    Let the tears swallow you,
    Let the oblivion engulf you,
    Let your muted wail resonate within you,
    Lose yourself in the chaos and become evanescent,
    For only then can your form be distinct on your messy canvas,
    And your heartbeat reset by the mellifluous melancholy.


  • differentlywired 34w

    The Binary Man

    Floating between states,
    Held together by the tug of opposing forces,
    Swinging between extremities,
    Sometimes seamlessly knit into the fabric of ordinary life,
    Sometimes swimming through the mundane to find the extraordinary,
    Soaking in the ambient noise,
    I transform it into my orchestral notes,
    Trying to compose music through words,
    Scurrying to grasp flashes of searing insights,
    Steering multiple lives while short of reigns,
    A part of me an echo chamber for everyone,
    Times when I'm clueless about who I am,
    I run through the tunnels winding back to my center,
    As I breathe in the balmy air of dusk,
    I settle into a steady rhythm guided by a focal point,
    Waiting for the waves to wash over me,
    Tearing through my metallic web of thoughts,
    Burning through the crust to melt into my core,
    Traversing a thousand journeys in every circumambulation,
    Chasing mindlessness to become mindful,
    Desperately clinging onto an ephemeral trance,
    Pulling down the sensory shutters to switch back to my binary form,
    I wind back the tape until it falls in place with the present,
    All I need now is a flywheel of perpetual motion,
    To unravel my story into the future.

  • differentlywired 34w

    The Invisible Doll-Maker

    A perpetual maelstrom,
    Constantly searching for an anchor,
    Clueless about who’s pulling the strings,
    Orchestrated by an invisible shape-shifting puppet-master, 
    The doll was once a man engulfed by his own shadows,
    Encapsulating a soul that imprisoned itself,
    Waiting for the song that could set it free,
    Hoping for the touch that could rekindle its spirit,
    Yearning for a life that time could not wear out,
    Groping for a way out of the concentric loops,
    Wondering what it means to be without objective,
    Thirsty for a drop of eternal inspiration,
    Its fluid dance never missing a pulse,
    Attempting to stir a quiver with its own rhythm,
    Awakening a crescendo that stops time in its tracks,
    Catching a glimpse of its reflection,
    On the edge where life and death are one,
    When stillness was indiscernible from motion,
    A delicate arc of resignation cuts across my wooden face,
    As I pull up the strings and smile at the hapless man in the mirror.

  • devilfish 37w


    My body ached to be swallowed
    By the steady drum of absolute darkness
    Enveloped by the hollow shadows
    As my heart thumped demanding
    Setting fire to all things hollow
    Void of meaning
    My essence is swelling
    And superficiality is increasingly
    I want my appetite satisfied
    I'd kill for a tear
    This will never end
    I want more fear
    I want my bones to fucking break
    My mental state to fucking tear
    I swallowed my pain bare
    They stare
    And my aura flares
    As my consciousness
    Becomes more aware
    My feet no longer touch the ground
    I found it
    The primal sound
    I wear it
    As I crawl victorious on the piling mound
    Of streams of water
    Bodies that mound
    In liquid streams
    Of corroded copper crowns
    The moonlight bears it's lunar gown
    They drown
    I breathe
    They stop
    They cease
    I prowl a predator an apex at
    My peak
    I speak
    The ground opens
    Like a gaping wound
    As it grows weak
    From my voice
    From my emotions
    I made my choice
    I am the ocean
    I demand that my body
    Possess the void
    The motion in my walk

  • itsmedash007 41w


    I have been walking down these roads for a time long enough now waiting morbidly for someone or something to accompany me in the pinpricks of this world. I feel lonely enough while sitting by the roads again doing nothing but indulging in the game of hope for somebody to show up across me magically carrying me to my destination. The afternoon sun pricking like thorns of the desert and the night so chilly that gives you frost bites of Alaska. Here I'm in this time trying my luck but nothing comes off it. I just keep sitting wandering if I made the right choices. What could become of me if I had been on a different journey with people that tried earlier to stop me. But I don't regret this opportunity traveling down south when the winds offered me to carry in its motherly lap to up north. I refused humbly walked past luxuries denying myself the privilege of enjoying glory. I walked and walked tirelessly like some sage in search of the doors to heaven. Becoming somewhat close to one city haggard myself. No I don't need the sympathies for I'm no destitute but another wanderer unsatisfied looking for love over pleasures. At the end I've traveled far to lands I've never seen before but found very little of what I'd hoped for. But would I stop? No no shrill cries came within me and I set off again on the fiery tracks bound southside. 

  • orfayus 44w


    A notion and
    Motion; blur-
    Past your eyes

    The sacred sacred water
    The ocean
    Of your emotion


    Forth from the
    of your potions

    My streams run
    From them

    @orfayus <insta

  • orfayus 44w

    Coal Belt Mentality

    And veins of
    Steel tracks
    Riding the heights
    Of despair
    And a tearing
    Inkling of coal
    Defeatist failures and
    Wresting the trigger-
    A typewriter
    Can't stay the
    Day eating away
    At your heart
    There is a trouble
    With being born
    And torn apart
    By the meaningless

    Insta: @orfayus


  • orfayus 45w

    A Land of

    Milk is flowing from your skin
    Honey is falling from your
    Eyes nectared in sweet
    Lies a hollow in your center

    A misdirection and
    Missing affection there are rasp
    Berries following your vines
    Knotted, fallen from your

    Herbaceous wood planted by
    Could and dandelion seeds
    Smelling mint and caraway
    Of faraway sweet nothings

    Where a sudden snowy
    Smile sauntering lip to lips
    Letting slip another evening of
    Honeyed looks and milky thighs

  • orfayus 45w

    An Errand

    Enjoying a brisk breeze about me
    Rumbling about a
    I stumbled into a skeleton of red tarots
    I was but another kiss upon thy cheek, a kiss of death to us

    The red red gasoline
    Of yesterday soaks the walls and halls of our memories
    You wore sleeves like paying for parking in
    dimes- expendable wishing

    I wasn't crumpled
    paper in the trashcan
    of your love


  • thisoneiscozy 54w

    the death of an artist

    if my fingernails could channel the anguish in my soul
    they would carve ribbons from my wrists
    and i would sit there on a pedestal
    a masterpiece woven from the remains of my sanity
    both a warning of the perils of burning too hot for too long
    and a testament to how to self-destruct so beautifully
    the world preserves your final cry as art

  • thisoneiscozy 54w

    for the sake of curiosity

    i want the naked, the vulnerable
    i want to see what you hide from everyone else
    i can scale your walls and
    i can swim your moats
    the harder you hide, the harder i'll try
    please, keep running
    this game of hide and seek is
    the most interesting thing that's happened to me
    all the world's a game
    or whatever shakespeare said
    how disappointing if you just quit playing

  • prasannakkumar 73w

    Hosted and invited by @Emily Nelson

    Adorning a flower,
    she set
    for sailing to cross
    the seven seas,
    no ordinary lass
    she is,
    but, a princess
    of a kingdom to be
    seated in the throne,
    she was the queen
    of fantasies,
    with the assumption
    of power
    jolted by the cries
    of the populace,
    set - she never,
    her feet on the soil
    and gravel
    known the plight of poor
    she was in the chambers
    of magnificence
    that was redolent
    with regal opulence,
    ever shed the tears
    of pain
    cause always
    she reigned
    the hearts
    of the king and queen,
    with the eventual
    holding of the crown,
    the weight of her head
    felt the yoke of chain
    being pulled
    by the plight of the indigent.
    unable to bear
    the burden of sin,
    all her privileges
    and riches
    for the sake
    of impoverished


    @mirakeeworld#writerstolli #laughing_soul
    @laughing soul
    #globalpoetcult #writingcommunity #writers_den_ #writerscommunity #writings #writersnetwork #@mirakeeworldwritersofindia #writersofindia #writers_and_thinkers #writer #writers #writerssociety #writterslife #writterslife #writersuniverse #writersofinstagram #writtenword #poetic #poetryporn #poetry_addicts #poetsofinstagram #poeticjustice #poeticsoul #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetssociety #poetrysociety #poetryslam #poetscorner #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld @vanshikatandon

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  • essied 100w

    Never play in the woods

    children disappear if you don’t lock your doors at night
    goat’s skull and tree branches
    crosses made of bones and twigs
    crying in the fields in the middle of the night and fleeing as the sun rises
    the south is not christ filled
    it's christ haunted