28 posts
  • pallavi4 51w

    Ivory and Ebony

    Decked in shades of ebony I live
    Enveloped in the darkness of the night
    Yet my lucid dreams are filled with
    Festering images in pristine white
    Draped in a cloak of inky nimbus clouds
    I regrettably barely survive
    Yet my thoughts are constantly invaded by
    Your ivory person delighting in the light
    Consumed by a fire of passionate longing
    My melancholic overtures often take flight
    Yet you remain sturdily embedded in me
    In my prolonged misery finding delight
    Engrossed in catastrophic ideas of love
    I try and mitigate the desires I feel inside
    Yet you entice me with your demeanour
    And misleadingly my imagination ignite
    I lie sprawled on the floor dressed in shadows
    Hoping that one day we will unite
    Yet you overlook the myriad temptations
    Belittling my existence forever in an oversight


    15th of August, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    #yetc #yet #love_poems #love #ivory_and_ebony #dark_and_light #metaphorical_poems #metaphors #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #miraquill #MirakeeWorld #writersnetwork #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @miraquill

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  • chasing_the_serene 51w


    I say I wanna be left alone, yet I search for a companion in loneliness as it's scary to be left alone.
    I wanna be free, yet I stay tied down to a place where I feel comfy, a place of my own, that place called home.
    Still sometimes home becomes a place where I wanna run away from, yet it is the only place I could return to because if I ever did run away where else could I have gone?
    At times I imagine a perfect life, yet the definition of life itself is unknown.

  • miss_silentlyweird 51w

    One day if everything stops,
    For I ran out of breath,
    Lungs gave up,
    Heart put at an end pumping,
    And my brain ceased,
    Probably everyone will keep moving,
    Yet all I wanted to know before I go is —
    “If there's someone who'll stop for me
    Even for a brief moment to take me in
    their heart."

    || '



  • my_tiny_chapter 51w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay
    #start #wod #yetc

    Hourglass in Motion

    One day if everything stops,
    memories window smiles at the past.
    Full of pictures in sepia -
    a retrospective of events
    which were long buried.
    Yet, over time,
    we will be reminded again
    That the more we look back
    the less life lasts.
    Days are getting shorter.
    Hours into minutes
    into seconds,
    squished together
    like nesting dolls
    until they are lost to infinity. 
    Who owns
    these finite moments
    immersed in the infinite?
    Inhaling and exhaling
    the fumes around the clock,
    a perception of beauty --
    a spiritual sense of blissful growth
    lost over a cosmic delight.
    we all forgot,
    Time was not made for clocks
    but clocks for time,
    and there's no turning back!
    before it is too late,
    and regrets come to greet,
    take enough time
    to appreciate
    the power of a kiss, a hug,
    and even a mild, kind touch.
    Or simply
    take life a little lighter
    and laugh a bit lauder,
    Before all is swept
    into the union of the ocean,
    and the count forever
    lost what is tardy.
    Believe me!
    It's hard to make memories
    Yet harder
    to make them last.
    Days roll by
    like clouds in the sky
    Slaves to the wind
    as they flutter and fly
    Driven past by the hand of time
    Through the midnight hour
    when all bells chime.
    Here the searching
    for reoccurrence
    serves the end.
    Chronology now,
    is kept
    by the pendulous sway
    of planets.
    Only the soul
    returns to naught,
    in perpetual rest,
    forever in motion....

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    Hourglass in Motion

    One day
    if everything stops,
    window smiles
    at the past.
    Full of pictures
    in sepia.
    over the time,
    we will be
    reminded again
    the more we look back
    the less life lasts.

  • snehalv 51w

    I can travel on paper
    Expressing the deep pain that the world is undergoing
    There is insecurity, insanity & evilness
    Yet there is hope for humanity to rise.
    There is a rude rich scheming to overthrow the penurious & so there is this great divide
    There is a small room for hope love but there is lot of hate too
    Our karma is to keep doing good & lead a generous life


  • karumpiravee 51w

    Yet, I am wellknown by her writings and edited frameworks

  • shadowofthoughts_ 51w

    Let's breathe, like the first time.

    #yetc #one11

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    You gotta stand still and yet move a million miles.
    You gotta breathe in and yet breathe out at all times.
    You gotta live pro and yet give no clue.


  • snehalv 51w

    The world is full of sad people
    Yet there will be a way to happiness
    Flowers wither, wither & fall
    Yet there will be a new bud & it will bloom too
    There is a darkness in life
    Yet there will be a light too.

  • lazybongness 52w

    Again a lame try ;)

    #Start : I can travel on the paper

    opacarphile : A person who loves sunsets

    allegory : instances

    alopecia(here) : voidness

    tithe (here) : nervousness or excited state

    #yetc #start @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    I can travel on the paper
    diving deeper into your love,
    I would kiss a million stars
    while bleed poems with pen I crave your presence to hide my scars.

    Shenanigans in Moonlight portrays
    a perfect mix
    I color with the allegory of imagination
    my alopecia with tithe tendencies.

    Yet I wait for the sunset, and you, besides me,
    Thousand shades of pink
    to dark navy blue nurture me.
    Waiting at the seaside where the land curves,
    though I know,
    my love for you is never enough.

  • periapt 52w


    You stand in front of me, yet you see through me,
    You say my silence kills you, yet you choose to be deaf when I scream,
    You say everything you want to say, yet you feel you haven't said enough,
    You cried when I died, yet you walk past my grave without even a look.
    And me,
    I'm a free soul now, yet I crave for a body so I could be with you.

  • re_ms36 52w

    Flowers wither, wither and fall,yet
    the essence brings spring to hearts.
    If blossom is beautiful,
    then gorgeous is withered.
    Rejoicing the joy of fall,
    they regret the bondage of bloom.
    While falling, the air of life, they inhale.
    Yet after falling,another spring, they await.

    I can travel on the paper, the
    same way i travel through life.
    While landing the quill of experiences
    in the monotonous rhythm of metaphors,
    I hear the words calling, breaking, breathing;
    Crying with the exaggerated ecstatic phrases.
    I discover the places on the blank white,
    And paint them in the canvas of colourful blues.
    Travelling through the pages of incomplete verses,
    I wander yet never get lost. More like myself, it feels.

    One day if everything stops,
    The life and the death,
    Does the ink carved through the curves
    of my words abandon the place of its abode?
    Along with the withered skin of mine;
    Would the pages wither too?
    But upon which ground would the
    words engraved there fall ?
    In the land of happiness or of sorrow?
    In both, maybe!. Again Awaiting Another Spring.

  • jumbledthoughts 52w

    Door to the cage is wide open,
    yet I can’t fly
    Rules on the wall are written,
    yet I can’t comply
    Opportunities are there in abundance,
    yet i feel shy
    My thoughts are my own enemies,
    yet on them I rely
    The universe is ready to shower it’s blessings,
    yet I don’t feel I’d survive

  • magical_poems 52w

    I can travel on paper
    Inking my life's journal
    I want that to be read
    And yet it is the thing I dread

    I want to ink poetries
    Write sonnets, haikus and limericks
    I want to scroll letters
    On that paper from my peacock quill feathers

    I want them to be famous, popular
    Yet I want to be an unknown litterateur
    I want to unravel mysteries
    Yet they turn to miseries

    I want to verse couplets
    And tune ghazals
    Yet I haven't had a start
    To define my true art

    I want to sail freely
    Across the water banks ideally
    I want to shout out loud
    To make myself heard on the crowd

    Yet I couldn't muster the courage
    And leave this world of savage
    To gain knowledge, plunge in its deepest
    For this is called life's test.....

    #start #yetc #wod #pod
    @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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  • sproutedseeds 52w


    I can travel on the paper
    disguised in words
    winning millions of hearts
    who can feel through
    my thoughts and emotions.

    We do not know each other
    YET we are friends
    maybe young or old,
    Far YET near.


  • yaquubzakarii 52w


    My mind is colourful, yet I appear blur.
    My heart beats for you ,yet you can't hear it.
    My tale's are all about you,yet you can't comprehend it.
    You are my light and yet I live in darkness.
    You are my home and yet you left me homeless.
    You're heartless but yet still want to be loved.

  • shru_pens 52w

    #start @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay @writersnetwark #yetc #ceesreposts

    5th stanza too weird ������plz ignore... I was out of words������

    Flowers wither,
    Wither and fall
    Yet they bloom
    To defeat the gloom
    And they invite the butterflies
    To add to the natural beauty
    Yet purify the wintry fireflies
    And glow in glee to be free

    Flowers bloom
    To see the nurturing plants
    To spread the scent of wet soil
    Just as we wither, fall
    And rise again to live with bloom

    Blooming is pleasant
    Yet to bloom more and more
    Till the day sun shines and moon shimmers
    Till the day cyclones and earthquakes diminish
    And till the day cool breeze continues to wave

    Flowers bloom
    They don't wither intentionally
    A rise without a fall never exists
    Just as a moon looks beautiful with darkness
    Blooms, withers shortly, glooms and again it blooms

    Flowers shed
    Juicy nectars, sticky flies
    Shimmering stars, wavy breeze
    Dusty grains spread on the marble floor

    Flowers bloom
    Originate from the garden of my soil
    They resist those prickly thorns,
    And feel blessed to have taken birth as a flower
    Bloom along the infinite horizon
    To discover the lighthouse in dark paths

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    Rose blooms, yet in gloom
    It is watered, yet in dry soil
    Life blooms, yet in gloominess of situations
    It is meant to be watered with a smile, yet in dry salty tears...(See caption...)

  • paint_a_poem 52w

    #start #writersnetwork #miraquill #yetc

    /Thankfully, a mind is one's own/

    I can travel on paper
    To the land of my distant dreams
    Where water springs from high fountains
    And the air is clearer than sea breeze

    Green is all that surrounds me
    Fresh air with free speech and sunshine
    Abundant milk and honey
    Where care is a distant memory

    Yet, I have to remain grounded
    With daily routine and mundane chores
    When work takes precedence
    Above everything else

    But my mind is my own
    And one cannot control
    New dreams that I have daily
    Places yet to see

    I will put on my travelling shoes
    And wander till time stands still
    Until then I have to wait
    But I have dreams to fulfil

    14 Aug 21

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    A mind of one's own


  • sonalbhatiarandhawa 52w


    I desire solitude
    Yet stay in a crowd
    I desire fluidity
    Yet hold my ground

    I desire dizzying heights
    Yet have steady feet
    I desire anonymity
    Yet want people to greet.

    I desire comforts galore
    Yet live like a sage
    I desire to be young forever
    Yet not defy my age.

    I desire no contradictions
    Yet I cannot agree
    I desire love to chain me
    Yet I want to be free

    Life indeed is confusing
    Yet we carry through
    Accept and move ahead
    Do not crib or rue!

  • sumayah_ams 52w

    // Flowers wither, wither and fall
    Yet you collected them to furnish aromatherapy
    to my dwindled blue and grey soul //

    One day if everything stops
    Will your existence betwixt
    my blue verses beguile the
    rhythmic flow of what glides
    along the thoroughfare of my
    veins merging the cerebrum with
    muttering maroon myocardium
    Just how it ushered petrichor
    In the flustered grey grooves of
    parched pulmonary pinnacles
    One hundred and twenty seconds ago

    // I can travel on the paper of spicules discalceated
    If you be the resonating poetry behind my
    scared skin //


  • standbyme 98w

    Walking a couple of kilometers to buy a pack of condoms because the neighborhood medic might leak a secret of you consummating your Love tonight. . .

    Waiting for the crowd to disperse before asking the store house guy for that special ribbed condom for extra pleasure with your partner. . .

    Well, this is the picture of supposedly coy India, the country that laid the foundation of the importance of sex centuries ago!
    〰️〰️©️ 〰️〰️©️ 〰️〰️©️ 〰️〰️©️ 〰️〰️©️ 〰️〰️©️ 〰️〰️©️

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    We are a population of 1.3 billion,yet we are scared to say the word Condom!