I would rather weave poems with your leftover memories than burn them into oblivion. If I could, i would steal a magic wand from Olympus, entangle the memories of seven years and morph them into the most marvelous dish you have ever seen. I'll ask the amorevolous moon for a slice of the azure sky. I'll take the sand from the Saturn's ring. I'll beg the nymphs for a glass of scintillating ocean water.
May it remind you of the forlorn beach where we spent your sixteenth birthday. Remember how the coconut trees laughed, the waves sighed, when you held my hand and I swear the lines on my palm changed their way, so they could meet yours.
Your eyes were brown, almost ethereal and mine incredibly happy. The sea shells were sighing while the crabs were jealous. When you kissed me, my lips turned into an ephemeral shade of forever, conflating into heartbreak. So darling take me back and bury me into those memories. Let me live there forever, my heart deserves this death.
Remember those days in Paris. When I saw you for the first time. Your eyes were glittering, Or maybe, It was just lil bit of sunshine. I fell in love on first sight. Oh! darling remember, we were so crazy, so damn crazy under starlight. Crashing parties, Eiffel Tower and how can I forget moonlit stars sighing on empty streets; you laughing on my silly poetries. Remember watching the Louvre, leaning for a kiss; you stepping on my feet. This city made you crazy or maybe it was the vintage wine you hoarded, messing with my mind and making us hazy.
There is a recurring thought in my head what if I end up in a tunnel alone, with no one around me. What if everyone forgets me, what if I forget to write. What if I drown and you couldn't save me.
Walls in my room don't whisper, they shout. They cage me in. I howl. Now all I am left with is dissected memories and all I leave behind are blank pages full of stories, I never had the courage to say aloud.
Thank you so much ma'am @luvnotes_challenge_host for hosting this amazing challenge. I saw it pretty late so couldn't officially participate in this amazing challenge but as an army my hands were literally itching to write something. Borahae #cees_bts_chall ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tell me, how can I not crumble when everything reminds me of you and how you are no longer here. Tell me, how can I live, when my only prayer is to worship the ground you walk in.
Tell me, can I still be part of your beguiling galaxy? Or are you now in love with the magnificent Eris? Tell me, did you let the world forget my name or the amorevolous moon convinced you to erase it?
//If only I could, I wanted to ask you Why did you do that back then? Why did you kick me out? Without a name to myself, I still revolve around you Our goodbye is colorless, that unchanging color// ~ 134340 by BTS (lyrics)
134340’ is the 4th track in the album Love Yourself: Tear. I34340 is not a random number. It was assigned to Pluto when it was discarded as a planet and excluded from our Solar system. So it reflects on how Pluto felt when it was rejected by everyone and how a person feels when they loose their place in someone's life. We all have seen songs written about love stories which are eternal. But this heartbreaking song echoes the sentiment of someone who is forgotten. It's for those people who don't have anyone to reciprocate their love with. It is for those people who are always replaced by someone who is more magnificent than them. It's for people who still long for a lover who won't forget them. That's why this song is such a great source of comfort to people like me because it speaks to our soul. It speaks to my existence. #BTS#army#pluto#love#life#forgotten#mirakee#cees_bts_chall
Tell me, Ma, why do you abhor the colour of my skin? Why you so adamantly paint me with cosmos of beauty products? Ma, tell me, did you forget the colour of your mother and her brown cheeks. Tell me, Ma, how can I be ashamed to resemble the selcouth ground my ancestor's walked on?
Tell me, Ma, why should I hide my stretch marks? When did the world convinced you that scars echoing my strength are horrendous? Tell me, Ma, how it is fair to my body to hide her true self in an atelier?
Tell me, Ma, why do you keep telling me to loose weight? Why you look at my thighs with such disdain? Tell me, Ma, should I be mortified with my juggling thighs and saggy breasts just because one day I'll wrap them around some guy?
When we met for the first time he knew my soul was beyond shattered. When we fell for each other he knew my heart was used to being jagged into a billion pieces like a vagabond who is obsessed with tattered places. I was like a home with no people, a guitar with no strings. But to me, you were a bottle of whiskey ; whereas I was the addict.
Heyya Miraquilleans, Thank you admins for some changes we are grateful and dear fellow writers you are allowed to write, talk, take tips, interact, leave messages and speak your heart out in this comment section. |You #once told me about a realm called miraquill I etched my poetries on chest of its walls and windows met new friends those evenings filled with laughter's no jealousy no hooliganism being happy for each other reading everyone not just few friends or closed ones appreciating each other and creating a world of stories, poetries, thoughts and we spoke for chap-lip people unfold harsh realities pointed a junction betwixt sorrow and glee shoulder to shoulder pen to pen we talked from January to December| @/fromwitchpen #ptpt -1 (Nothing more I'll say as these lovely fellow writers have said your heart out already. This comment section is all yours #mydearmiraquilleans -3) if you all will like this will take such initiatives every month. _________________________________ 1. I urge people to be honest with the particular writer they read, when it comes to their writing. They can read it genuinely but “just because you liked my post i will too without reading it”,should be stopped. 2. Metaphors are not always a need. I urge if people could recognise themselves and the purpose behind the lines they write with their “own” imagery and “own” experience.,/3. I urge if people to know, no matter how hard you try to coat yourself with other writers word, you would never shine. Being honest with yourself, is the only thing which brings out how TRUE you are. ~for the readers/writers I feel they are giving according to themselves.I have no issues with what mirakee is doing.New people are getting discovered and rest everyone writes good. I don’t know about it more.Yeah, I feel many times they give pods to not that much deserving posts but we are have different perspectives so maybe that thing looks amazing to them ~for miraquill. @/squared • No matter what I choose for myself. Good or bad. I would never choose literature for my further study alone without any support thankfully, I got it and for that, I'm forever grateful to (mirakee) and the one who thought of creating this incredible platform. I was sent to science high school without my will in +2 it was nothing more than torture ! skipped lessons, missed lectures, bunking class, decreasing grades, I thought I would never be a decent student again. But, last year, my family willingly agreed, and I was admitted to literature college for my bachelor's after accidentally reading one of the poems that I wrote for the mirakee challenge. And now, after directly jumping from revising same theories thousands times to writing my own thesis. I feel good about studying, I feel good when I have assignments to do, I feel good about being a decent student. I'm satisfied with what I'm learning. All credits go to mirakee for giving my words a place to dwelt. Sometimes I wished I could disappear, but it is worth a stay. Nowadays, I see it's changing, but then they say change is constant. I hope the change is for good. @/fairytales_ • 1. Don't write for a POD or Writersnetwork re-post, write for what your heart wants to. A simple appreciation by a random person, is more than a POD. From my personal experience, I have also been always interested in getting reposts stuff, but a genuine appreciation is much more than that. Trust me./ 2. 100 or 10 likes, doesn't matter, until your are loving your write-up. Yes, I know it sucks when you loved something by heart and you didn't get enough of appreciation or likes but you know for a human being it's never enough. /3. Last and most important I must say, You are not being forced to write. You are not being forced to attempt the daily challenge. If I am going to your post and putting up a comment in your comment section "write soon" or someone is doing so, that is called suggesting, not forcing. If you don't want to write it's your wish. You can answer back the person saying it not possible for me to write or whatever the reason is. Avoid doing it for sake of. @/aditi
The realistic portrayal of youth in all its facts. The beauty in everyday life during a time when we’re young and bold. The realistic portrayal of the pains of growing up. The subtle and innocent romance. The friendship between the classmates The relationship between teacher and students, as well as the relationship between the youths and their parents. The step by step visit to the last year in High School.
Hold me in your arms, For one last chance, Who knows when this night will arrive, Who knows next time whether we'll be by each other's side,
So hold me close, And let's explore, The warmth, joys, sigh, In these moments that are left by, Hold me in your arms, For one last chance, Who knows when this night will arrive, Who knows next time whether we'll be by each other's side,
Come closer, Who knows if I'll be here with you in the next hour, And being in each other's arms, Let's cry for a while and let's laugh, Hold me in your arms, For one last chance, Who knows when this night will arrive, Who knows next time whether we'll be by each other's side,
These eyes have yearned for you for a long time, Let's not make it wait and enjoy this night, So be here with me for a while, Maybe this is the last moment we'll ever meet, Hold me in your arms, For one last chance, Who knows when this night will arrive, Who knows next time whether we'll be by each other's side.
Archaic stories of stars are overhauled while few sunsets are dragged by quill, euphoria is raised in words when a manuscript is renowned by the candied gesture of miraquill.
Teenage hearts bloom clovers of love while broken hearts stitch heartaches, wanderers find hope and shelter when roof of poetries adrift in waves.
Haikus of nature and ballads of wisdom like a morning sparrow I sing, heavens rain fervent embers whenever I hail Miraquill.
Flourishing at poetic shores some poems found their existence while some wounds dipped in imaginations to heal, memories etched on my heart when these four walls of screen bulged me to a home, called miraquill.
I've rejuvenated myself and unfolded my wings, to fly in a paradise, a synonym of Miraquill. ~Purva
#jingle Although it ain't a jingle but a poem :) I'll come back soon