Mirakee
A most beautiful echo
"I love you too"
♡ Josie A Kerr
10.03.2021
jarraley
My 2nd collection is now available on Amazon. Email me dajhahn@gmail.com or DM on IG or FB for the links ��❤
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Till every tomorrow fades into rising nightfall
I will continue to believe in love's existence
♡ Josie A Kerr
10.03.2021 -
~ i will ~
I will share with you my brokenness
Poignant as her fledgling dawn
Faith comes softly fragrant perched once upon an early jasmine bloom
Engaged intimately to a timeless paradox
Dreams swirl and stir a tawdry sullied broth
Ripples free, bleed unpretentious
Vibrant cyphers, cryptic solace
Night and day poise resplendent
swaying, slow dancing, gently hers
Delve both hues ebony and black, exotic whites come tangerine
Days sequential a jester's crown, dealing aces through knave till king
each their other muted to an evocative mandala of handsome greys
Stepping fearless her tearful heel, loyalty steadfast
every step found resolute, forged in stone
Sweetly sung her promises, caught amongst the lyrical whimsy of darling chimes
Her cache of windswept pretty poetries, to and fro, unequivocally a lover's tryst
Her swiftly gentle reverie shyly musing time's quaint lullaby
Regaling tales kind hither fine songster, minstrel and musician brandishing beautiful thine jangling tambourine
With a magician's flurry of sprightly colours and a talisman of sterling stars
Her longtime journaled prose and lyrics carefully scrolled and gently twined
Cast devotion they transcend a trove of untold revelations
Stashed away somewhat forlorn betwixt nectar, brambles, tall heather and heath
Heartened beats gracefully harmonize every foregone truthfulness, art thee ploughed from grit and hallowed earth
With mettle sound, once encrypted, wielding mortar and marble pestle she bows to bended knees
Clasped hands murmur but a single prayer left solemnly bequeathed
Breath billowing in a summer's rage
Waning tempest caught by a wisp of silken sheath
Spun fragments, wistful chords, veriegated Autumn trill
Melodic memories slightly singed her fraught benevolence
Apologetic swilling streams yielding fractured sorrow
Ivy thoughts meander back and forth, flute and fiddle waltz together vowed silence
Fanciful she fondly paints patterned scars deeply etched beneath bare skin
Indelible these count to seven, her seven stars, her seven tattooed sisters
A fragile sigh survives pondering the fluent whisper of a wayward vagabond
Hushed melodies and crescent lies drifting, stretching boundless constellations
falling soft to frequent crayoned conversation
Tomorrow wakes gilded exquisitely between her tender edges
Elusively besotted, charmed by the night, captured soulful, bewitched, enchanted amid an artist's splendour
With wings outstretched, unclipped, ornate
Splayed here prettily for her halo lays
Tips bleeding genteel tears of amethyst
Brimming, glistening, shimmering an untamed avalanche
Stillness adrift amidst unruly clatter
Melodious tides scooped up and held with quiet breath
Empaths stargaze night's opulence her opened box brimming trinkets, studded light witn threaded beads of topaz and gems of crystal
Hearts eclipse both mystic moons
Stardust rapturous in a snow globe storm doth the elegance of paper hearts persist
Beneath quiet eyes of peridot, skipping stones and pirouettes
Shades of authenticity rest on the rolling cusp of rising tides
Petals orchid black bend lowly from a willow's crook
Dance they may
and dance they might
dance with her in the twirling night
A fallen penny sworn to peace cometh the unobtrusive humility of an organza sea
Lost in folded ribbons beg aubergine, blind quietude be her calling, her eventual endless dark
♡ Josie A Kerr
21.02.2021 -
It is I will stay just a little longer
My cheek against your chest
I'll be braver with the sun rise
♡ Josie
16.11.2020 -
jarraley
23w
I dance between the tearful rain
So no one sees my sorrow
Falling down like scintillating stars
♡ Josie
02.11.2020 -
Being brave
Breathing deeply
Just trying to keep all her balls in the air
♡ Josie
28.10.2020 -
Every tear holds true
a precious blessing within itself
A rainbow kissed by the warmth of the sun
♡ Josie
28.10.2020 -
Brave are those
Whose pretty tears
Glisten in the sunlight
♢ Josie
28.10.2020 -
Kiss me under skies of torrid grey
Divulging splatterings of drizzling rain
Your lips all I crave
♡ Josie
27.10.2020 -
Deciduous limbs left forlorn
Her boughs stark against the blue
Tears wept for leaves here softly fallen
Gone with grace far too soon
Sleeping now without a breath
An empty canvas she'll paint anew
Calling for the warmth of Spring
With her solemn vow crossed and promised
Holding close a little longer
Before she sees you dance and fall
Love Josie
05.10.2020
-
john_solomon
7w
Read More#headline #wod
I often wonder, why are we born, go to school, and then chase money the rest of our lives, shouldn't we be about something better than that by now being that the first coin form of currency was minted 5 Millennium ago, currency... an ancient concept of self induced slavery that we all willingly fall in line with still to this day and beyond.Utopias Proclamation
Central banks convicted of slavery, currency banned...
Humanity evolves!
©john_solomon -
samswan
7w
Read MoreNEVER TO THE SKY
They opened their eyes
to the red hot sun
but never
to the blue sky.
Yodeling vehemently
the black music
passed down to their illiterate tongues:
"Let us break bread together on our knees;
Let us break bread together on our knees;
When I fall down on my knees
With my face to the rising sun
O Lord have mercy on me."
The air sang too
finding lyrics between
experienced, young,
new born and adult voices.
Their lost bodies
and innocent minds,
eyes fogged with perspiration
and bloody atrocities,
harvested in corn and indigo fileds.
Do you know why they looked up?
They searched for the
embryo of freedom
feticide by white folks.
They talked to birds
hovering above.
If they would share their wings
Or take them on a flight ?
Far far away...
Had unanswered questions
to the humanity...
Their coloured skin
were no less than
of packed animals,
as inside it dwelt
the bruises and burnt souls.
Hollowed too.
For they had no dreamscape.
But to go home.
Find home.
Meet their sold wives.
Meet their escaped husbands.
Embrace their brought kids.
Kiss the wrinkled foreheads
of their old and weak mothers.
Present few yellow flowers
to the headstone of their fathers
and ancestors all gone.
Whose blood is mixed with theirs
as they worked on the same
dark soil of plantation.
Unknown to tomorrow
or yesterday.
They knew today
was the same caged daylight.
Orphans,
of their own country.
With rivers of pain
running on their flesh.
Their breathe
held in chains.
In their sleep of few hours,
they longed for a secret death,
resting in peace with few yellow flowers.
No more the children of god
were they.
Bought and sold.
Sold and bought again.
Fluctuated prices: low and high,
traveled them from Virginia to Kentucky.
Fist fighting with survival.
They loved each others scars.
For they were the trophies
of their hard work,
unpaid endless works.
As if they were inanimate.
Born to serve the privileged race.
The four letter words
be it love or life
were meaningless to them.
The sweat on their face
sprinted to catch up the marathon
of out cries
hidden in their eyes.
Indeed they woke up to the sun
but never to sky.
Indeed they forever slept on the fields
but never rested in peace.
-Samiksha
I know it is long, may be too long this time. I hope this does some justice in pouring light how miserable was black slavery and racism in American soil and air.
#slavery #pod
@mirakee @writersnetwork @john_solomon
PC : to the rightful ownerNever To The Sky
They opened their eyes
to the red hot sun
but never
to the blue sky.
They searched for the
embryo of freedom
feticide by white folks.
Orphans
Of their own country.
With rivers of pain
running on flesh.
©samswan -
love_whispererr
21w
Read Moreʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ
//when I saw you
the melancholies stopped crooning
and I warbled with moon vines//
I was there
where those jasmines started blooming
and looked mercurial in summer nights.
I was there
where those broken hearts met
and lay down on the silken walls of stars.
I was there
where the history encountered the queen Cleopatra
and blessed death kissed her delicate arms.
I was there
where he left her alone
and she waited inside the white clothes a long.
I was there
where the tipsy poet woke up
with his broken quill and cold-blooded metaphors.
I was there
where the sumptuous sun set that day
and never rose but put down a suicidal letter.
I was there
where the river met the dauntless zephyr
and rested on mango tree's diaphanous shoulder.
I was there
where you forgot about my flamboyant heart
and I welcomed a pebbly heartbreak.
//when you left me
bloodstains ensnared my hair
and I intoned with raven skulls//
©вι∂уα в.
#sawc (pc_pinterest)`
-
bonitasarahbabu
21w
Read MoreWord of the Day: Libertine
Definition: a person who is unrestrained by convention or morality; specifically : one leading a dissolute lifeA libertine,
That he is not.
There were many moments,
Where he could have taken advantage of her.
But through all this,
He remained a gentleman.
Protected her from others,
Others who would have taken advantage of her.
He stood by her side through it all,
And he made sure to take care of her.
Now that he is absent,
She is on edge.
It's not that she had depended on him,
But she knew that he had her six.
Now, she has to watch out for the libertines,
And constantly be aware of the surroundings.
©bonniesbabu
11/15/2020 -
love_whispererr
23w
Read More
ꜱᴀᴜᴅᴀᴅᴇ : ꜰᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴀɴᴢᴀꜱ
You're the last smile of the terrible winter of December and that smile is now stowed away inside the womb of red berries of naked yew tree and an innocent lizard tried to lick the red balls and found dead on the awning of green grasses. But the shimmering smile adheres on the tongue of that dead lizard and desultory death chuckles.
//the love that remains between death and smile//
You're the page number ninety seven stained by the death of gorgeous beauty Cleopatra, the exalted queen of Egypt, when committed suicide by allowing the cobra to bite her arms and the flimsy vines of yore scribble about the scath'd past. But the love from the litters of history book always murmurs for the aurelia leading light.
//the love that remains between suicide and chronicle//
You're the torn and buttonless shirt of a boy from the slum which was dreaming to become a suit of finance minister one day but the municipality dustbin waits for the raggy shirt with some melodramatic hopes and naked strengths to sew it with golden threads of fate. Still the shirt hopes for a miracle and irate destiny plays a fiddle near the unnoticed morgue.
//the love that remains between ragged shirt and snazzy suit//
You're the lost love ; now hiding behind the cashmere of heartbreaks and the silhouette of Susquehanna camouflages an emollient shawl upon the erstwhile melancholies and wishes for a ripple of wonders to happen. The chatoyant snowflake wear a veil like a new bride to conceal her face from sunshine yet they find out her and she melts inside the beams of morn.
//the love that remains between lost love and overbearing heartbreak//
©вι∂уα
#saudadec (pc_pinterest)`
-
twinkling_girl
24w
The deepest grave in this world is your thoughts
They dive in the threads of barriers
©twinkling_girl -
.
-
lovenotes_from_carolyn
25w
Read More*Term credit: I've borrowed the term "gin blossom" from the American rock group bearing that name. This caption is already long enough, so I'll leave it up to you to Google the actual meaning; although for the purposes of this piece, I've used it in a different manner.
*Title credit: I've borrowed the words "Much Ado About Nothing" from the Shakespearean play which bears that title. All credit for those words go solely to William Shakespeare. The rest of the piece is entirely of my own creation. Thank you for respecting that.
Side Note: Please remember NOT to tag Mirakee and/or Writers Network multiple times in comment sections. If someone has already tagged them in a comment section, there is no need to do it again.
#writersnetwork #mirakee #prose #freeverse #originalcreationMUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
by Carolyn Glackin
The gin blossom blooms beautifully by the light of day. A diurnally day born delight is she; yet she seeks satiation only amidst the penumbral tenor of the waning moon. Alas, what a paradoxical enigma is this beauteous bloom!
The night oft holds my curious mind captive, in sheer wonderment of such confounding occurrences. After all, 'tis a mystical realm in which my corporeal body currently finds its humble abode.
Seemingly, from out of the ethers, these naggling thoughts seek refuge in my restless mind, in hopes of rooting out some reasonable explanation.
Verily, the frail viscosity of the visceral mind makes one such intrepid sojourner of my salient soul. A nocturnal nymph am I, thus off I go in the wee hours, in my most maddening moments of minutiae, whereupon my mind seeks answers to the relentless litany of frivolous fodder on which I so oft do fixate.
Oh how I marvel at the enigmatic endeavors of the formidable mind; thus "lifelong learner" is my currently professed profession. One in which I hope to eternally remain.
Despite the demanding determination of my innermost curiosity, occasionally my nebulous inner notions fail to lead to fruition, and I find myself revisiting the proverbial "square one."
Ergo, I am once again remanded to my mind space. Yet the implications of this seemingly sordid scenario are not viewed as a doleful gain. Nay, not in the least! Instead, the gregarious gallivanter that dwells within me merely charts a new course for its intellectual exploits and purposeful pursuits.
Hence, much like the aforementioned gin blossom, I await the draping of darkness across the land; whereupon, off I go on my quest for knowledge, in hopes of satiating my desire for true wisdom.
And now, being the dilettante dabbler that I am, I daresay that this ponderous piece has reached its definitive denouement.
In other words: the end.
©Carolyn Glackin 10/23/2020
P.S. If you've read this entire post from top to bottom, you have my sincere thanks and appreciation. I know that it was rather lengthy.
P.S.S. I'm still abstaining from reading/reposting until after I've resolved some ongoing health and dental issues; but if you need me for admin related purposes, feel free to holler. -
You remember? Sitting on a bench and singing the wrong lyrics felt like a journey;
Today, there are stoppages between voids and memories, I wish you could never be there
residing in choirs of nostalgia, murmuring along with them in a low tune.
- coral -
I get a pinch of a chance and I fall in too deep,
Chances are high, so I place my bet. I'm all in.
Tik-tok, tik-tok, I don't see or hear the clock turn,
Yet, soon all slips out of my hands, I'm losing again.
I'm in my little corner trying to hold me whole.
Baffled. Why is it always my heart that gets beat?
©love_poet
