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pallavi4
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pallavi4 14h
Truth
Maybe we don’t write
For other people to read
And appreciate......
Maybe poetry is a way of
Listening to oneself and
One’s incomplete stories
By putting them down on paper.
That incomplete melody
Buried deep inside flows
Into the words, the metaphors
Like tracing the rim of a glass
Half filled with water -
Waiting for it to resonate ....
Every sound, every vibration
Gets amplified the minute
It is felt by a poet.
To be able to deduce the
Happenings of daily life,
People and emotions into
Prose and poetic verses
Is the ability of a great writer
And likewise of great poetry .
Maybe one writes not to only
Express oneself but to be
Heard in a soundless room ,
To be felt , to be touched
And in turn touch others
In ways only a poet can .
Prose may not seem much
But it is the lament of
Broken hearts, unfulfilled promises
Undiscovered dreams
Universal truths and judgements.
Maybe poets write to sum up
And decide within the lines of text
How to break free from the
Seemingly chained up life
And free oneself from bonds.
If poetry is a form of expression
Then a poet is a magician.
@pallavi4
16th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Once upon a time” by Elizabeth on earth
#truthc #truth #poets #poetry #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee -
pallavi4 18h
Where are you from ?
In the midst of thick green jungles
In a city surrounded by waterfalls
Where the fresh mountain air is dominant
Not galvanised skyscrapers and buildings tall
Where lush greens wave in the fields
And the summer rains cool the earth
Where the rainfall lasts several months
And nightingales are not in dearth
Infested by local terrorists is this paradise
Who take advantage of the dense wilderness
And create a nuisance for the general public
Jolting all out of a slumberous tenderness
Depicted as a country stricken by poverty
One of snake charmers and rogue cattle
I hail from a land rich in tradition and heritage
That leave outsiders completely baffled
A nation that boasts of diverse cultures
Coexisting, living and thriving as one
Where the language changes every few kilometres
Modernity breathes life into the humdrum
Known for its incredible architecture
And hardworking, brilliant minds
Spice and tea gardens that flourish
Where one is welcomed with a warm namaste and a smile
Delectable food and colourful festivals
That celebrate life and spirituality everyday
I hail from a place where generations live
Together as a unit that does not fray
Plagued by pollution caused by a massive populace
Who make it difficult for the infrastructure to keep pace
India is my where my beautiful home is
In the whole world- my favourite place
@pallavi4
16th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- “Follow Me” series by Murad Osmann
#roots #wod #india #incredible_india @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 1d
What good is a day
What good is a day in which
One’s imagination cannot soar
Where radical ideas can’t grow a pair of wings
And rush hurriedly out of the door
What good is a day that does not
Melt into a brilliantly lit twilight
That does not go from dawn to dusk
Celebrating the advent of the night
What good is a day that cannot
Bring renewed energy and new hope
That pulls one out of a slump
That helps one not to mope
What good is a day that is not blessed
With a beginning, a middle and an end
Where you don’t discover a new take on things
And feel you’ve gone around the bend
What good is a day that doesn’t shadow
The eventualities of the past
Helps forge a new and bright future
To make your own ventures and paths
What good is a day that does not know
It’s value to the mindless multitude
That dares to journey where only eagles dare
Steadfast and with great fortitude
What good is a day unless it holds the key
To the locked hours of the day
Where moments that melt one’s heart rein
And life eventually finds sculptures made of clay
@pallavi4
16th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner
#pbegc #day #musings #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 1d
Twisted
She’d always been a sickly child
Right from the very start
Something was twisted inside of her
People suspected something was wrong with her heart
Her mother would fuss a lot
Caring and taking care of all her needs
With medication and doctors aplenty
Administering her story book reads
She’d go out to play with her friends
And after a little while start feeling faint
Something was twisted inside of her
A grim picture of health she would paint
In the evening she would be too unwell
To sit with the family at the dinner table
She would spend her time throwing up
Always nauseous and always unstable
In no condition to attend school like the other kids
Her mother was her entire world
But something remained twisted inside of her
That refused to let her be just another girl
Her mother would feed her food and medicines
Slowly watch her slurp the hot soup
No matter how many drugs were given to her
She always had to be kept protectively cooped
Somehow she dragged on till she reached fifteen
People would tell her ma how sorry they felt
That something was twisted inside of her
How they were sad they couldn’t be of help
Her mother would weep, be comforted
And then go back to attending to the sick
People would rally around her mother
Who tried to make her better using every trick
And then one day after being unwell for a while
She finally died and was at peace
Something no longer was twisted inside of her
Her soul at last found the much needed release
At her funeral her mother was inconsolable
Her father serious and heartbroken
He’d discovered a nurse who had suspected
His wife and left a note as a horrifying token
The following week her mother was arrested
For having kept her daughter perpetually ill
For that something that had been twisted inside of her
She refused to go quietly until
She was shown how she’d fed poison slowly
To her unsuspecting, trusting little girl
Ruled a homicide she was thrown in jail for life
Her nasty mind finally to the world unfurled
A dark place is the mind of a mother who manages
To twist something inside of her own child
Just so that more attention can be drawn
To herself and more sympathy derived
Labelled a mental illness it survives
In parents who outwardly look loving and upright
Munchausen by proxy is a disease that takes
The life of an innocent and naive child
@pallavi4
15th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- By Igor Morski
Post Script:
Munchausen by proxy is a mental illness in which a person acts as if an individual he or she is caring for has a physical or mental illness when the person is not really sick. Often the victim is made to look sick by the person in order to gain attention and sympathy. As a result, they do real harm to their children in order to fabricate symptoms.
Munchausen by proxy is a serious mental condition that should be reported in order to stop the person from being a caregiver to a child who naively accepts the help thinking of it as love and affection.
#wod #refrain #twisted #munchausen #munchausen_by_proxy #stories_in_poems #mother #sad_poems #death #murder #homicide @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 2d
Remains
No rose is born without thorny stems
Yet no one measures them on that score
Your refusal to see the light in me
Leaves me aloof alone and sore
Like a massive but broken liner
Sinking down to the ocean floor
Your indifference drags me like an anchor
Never to sail and forever remain ashore
Come hail come storm and years go by
Time does ebb and flow
Winters give way to summer suns
But your heart remains shroud and cold
It takes a wise man to know their own
Tales of lore have foretold
That day when you accept my flaws, my faults
Is masked, disguised, obscured
Broken trust is like that tea cup that broke
You may choose to fix broken lines with gold
Folklore says breaks history with them bring
For me once broken is never again whole
Some stories are not meant to be
Sold as a book from door to door
They are meant to live inside shut window panes
Unseen, unspoken and remain untold
@pallavi4
14th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner
#remainsc #remains #teacup #metaphorical_poems #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 2d
Time’s Up
Every time you look at me
With a sly look in your eyes
Every time you think it a done thing
To brush a leg against my thigh
Every time you casually drape an arm
Around my shoulders and think it alright
Every time you make a pass at me
The moment your wife’s out of sight
Every time you promote another woman
Thanks to favours that you expect
Every time you demote my status
The moment your advances I reject
Every time you treat me like I’m incompetent
Just because I said a firm ‘no’ to you
Every time you talk inappropriately to me
At a workplace event after a drink or two
Every time you’ve sent me suggestive texts
And emails in the middle of the night
Every time you’ve forced meetings on me
Inspite of me putting up a fierce fight
Every time I’ve been embarrassed
Thanks to the lewd jokes you crack
Every time your hand ‘accidentally’
Wanders to the small of my back
Every time you’ve left unwanted
Gifts on my office table
Every time you created a hostile environment
And then suggested I was mentally unstable
This time is certainly not that time
When I will be silenced and shut up
This time you’ll pay for your misdemeanour
Know that this time your time here is up
@pallavi4
14th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner - “The Calling” by Tahlia Stanton (gallery collection)
#wod #timesup #harassment @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 3d
Recipe for getting through a panic attack
1 tbsp of a day where everything seems fine
5 tbsp of the perception of a threat or stress
2 tbsp of a racing brain
7 tsp of the anticipation of exposure to certain situations again
3 tsp of the situations becoming triggers or bane
After Simmering for 5 mins on low heat, add
2 tbsp of a feeling of intense fear and anxiety
1 tbsp of discomfort and chest pains
1 tbsp of feeling unsteady, lightheaded and faint
1 tsp of the feeling of unreality and detachment from self
1 tsp of numbness, palpitations and pounding heart
2 tbsp of feeling a shortness of breath and smothering
1 tbsp of trembling, shaking and sweating
1 tbsp of choking and fear of losing control
1 tbsp of severe nausea
1 tbsp of feeling like dying and going crazy
1 tsp of everything going hazy
During these 10-20 mins try adding the below given list for improving the recipe .....
5tbsp of deep and mindful breathing
2 tbsp of becoming aware of your body
2 tbsp of progressive muscle relaxation
2 tbsp of thinking calming thoughts/ visualisation
1 tsp of anti depressant/ anti anxiety medication
Stir and remove from stressful situation
Once simmering ends, serve immediately
(Avoid further stress triggers and anxiety)
@pallavi4
13th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- No 69 by amoc777 on deviant art
#wod #recipe #panic_attack #stress #panic @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 4d
Fate
He sat alone on the bench in the park
And wiped away a tear slowly
He was tired of being made to feel
Outcast, unwanted and lowly
The other children would pick at him
Call him names and poke fun
“You are the child of a whore
Stop pretending your mother’s a nun”
His mother was a gentle creature
Who loved him very dearly
But was unable to bring herself to tell him
Who towards him was meant to be fatherly
He’s always assumed that his dad had died
Maybe he had left when he was born
Maybe that’s why when he asked about
His whereabouts his mother would look forlorn
He never told her how he was teased
What the other kids said about her
Whatever she was, he loved her profoundly
All the while being treated by others like a cur
He ambled home staring at the floor
Unlocked the door and announced he was home
His mother happily walked towards him
Other than dog they were all alone
“Did someone beat you son” she asked
Examining his black and blue left eye
“Why don’t you tell me what is wrong”
Looking teary waited for his reply
“Why can’t you tell me who he was?
Why is he no where to be seen ?
Am I to spend a lifetime wondering who
My father must have been ?”
“He was a wanderer, a philosopher
He was the love and light of my life
The only reason I’ve never told you about him
Is because I was never his wife”.
“Our love was strong but never meant to be
A bridge that we could cross together
He came, he stayed and then he left
Like the restless unpredictable weather”
“So I am exactly who they say I am
I am a bastard, I am a fatherless child
I am destined to be forever condemned
Just because you let yourself be defiled”
She slapped him hard across the face
Then sat down and began to weep
She could not turn the wheels of fate
Both their wounds were far too deep
He, ashamed of the way he had behaved
Apologised and embraced her tight
He vowed he would not be like his father
No matter what he would protect her with all his might .
@pallavi4
12th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner
#fatec #fate #writersbay @writerbay #stories_in_poems #illegitimacy #illegit_children @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 4d
Gift
A decade flashed by in the blink
Of an eye while I
Pretended not to be in pain
For people could not see
The wounds inflicted by your
Mean, unkind words
That cut through me like a sword
Each and every day
While I , I unknowingly, unwittingly
Clung to you hoping
To one day, find soothing hands .
Years later now that you are gone
I know that it is your gift to me
The greatest one could ever give to another
The gift of freedom
From the pain and from you.
@pallavi4
12th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner- Hannah on Flickr
Reposted from 27th of July, 2018
#wod #gifts #stories_in_poems @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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pallavi4 5d
Unafraid
No I am not afraid
Of my own shadow anymore
I face the sun and feel it’s warmth
Run with the wind behind me, in tow .
The lush green grass beneath my feet
That grows free and wild
The river I can hear trip and fall
Flow leisurely , slip and slide .
No I am not bound
By the rules made for me by others
I am the master of my own kingdom
Not some fire you can quickly smother.
I sprint under the clear blue sky
Unconditionally, uncontrollably unconfined
The little birds chase me in hoards
While I live within a boundary undefined.
No I am not yours
To move around like a chess piece
I feel my hair billowing carefree
I am finally at peace and feel at ease.
The clouds that pursue the sunshine
Are my compatriots in the elusive midst
This my small world of happiness
This is my day in a gist.
@pallavi4
11th of April, 2021
Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner
#picturec #free #musings #thoughts #writersbay @writersbay @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee.
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theinkdomain 20h
Where are you from?
I am from the land of
screening scars and the
sheild of shimmering stars
I belong to the heavens
of poetries of sky and
the contour cloud metaphors
I belong to the berceuses
of night and activities of noon
I am from the land of sun and moon
I belong to the colors of rainbow and
the horizons of sunset and sunrise
I am from the land of soft supple soil
and the wilted wonders of walls
I belong to vertices and centre balls
I belong to the monsoon rains and
the verses of memory lanes
I belong to the whistles of wind
and the melody of birds
I belong to the land of vernal breeze
and the lovely locks of lilies
I am from the land of violet violets
and the blue blush of morning glories
I belong to the pastels of primrose
and the winks of periwinkles
I am from the land of leaves of autumn
and the chaste cherry blossoms
I belong to the winter frosts and the
raised reveries of summer heat
Sometimes of the dark denses of gloom
Sometimes of the land of bliss and bloom
~SG
#roots #life #writersnetwork #mirakee
@writersnetwork @mirakee
I know it's lame://
Writersblock *-*.
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Illuminating stars are illusions
Binded within constellations of heart
Knitting lights weaves the shade
Uprooted by ductile breaths and leaves fading this art . -
inspiring_soul 18h
Gypsy Spirit
The Universe is so vast
yet, I can't find my home
A place where I can belong to
A place to call it my own
The Universe is so vast
yet, I can't find my roots
The thread which binds me
to some place I can go back to..
The Universe is so vast
yet, I can't find my person
A soul like mine who feels
like home
The Universe has some
natural laws yet,
my soul doesn't have any
Bohemian, rebillious, resistant
and untamed
A Gypsy spirit roaming around
the world but seeking nowhere.
©inspiring.soul
Friday, 16 April 2021
#roots #refrain #wod
_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟N̟o̟t̟e̟:̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟_̟
The horse is a universal symbol of freedom without restraint. It is also a symbol of travel, movement, and desire..
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a_gentilischi 22h
LOVE IN THE TIME OF GRAVEYARDS
What good is a day
Or a month, or a year
All those crude measures of time
When seconds bleed to hours
In the blink of an eye
Without any reason nor rhyme?
Woes make it run slower
And euphoria, more faster
Careless pace; the creator's crime
Each second more precious
More than gold or gem facets
Your presence a warmth sublime
Is there a truth
To our beautiful loves
Hidden in kisses and sensual embrace?
Or is our coveted true love
Like so many things
A cruel oxymoron with an angel's face?
To say 'yes' or 'no'
Logic should be involved
Without talk of compassion or grace
And love, above all
Not being second to time
Is the winner of the 'logic-less' race
These fires that burn
As we caress and we yearn
Need not be true, to be craved
Adoration runs deep
Like the roots that creep
Over our twin graves, among wild flowers paved
Permeating roots, blood and birth
Our decaying bones and earth
And the tombs' lilting epigraphs engraved
Our love will last
Though our lives are past
In still hearts, turned golden, unstaved
.
2021.04.16
Written rights : ©a_gentilischi
PC:Pinterest
#roots #truthc #wod #pod
#mirakee #writersnetwork #writersbay
@mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay
#pbegc #love #life #death #end #time
#hearts #truth #tomb #precious.
©a_gentilischi
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inspiring_soul 1d
#yakeen : Arabic word which means "the highest level of certitude"
It has also other meanings such as death in one of the verses of the Holly Quoran
بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
{وَ ٱعْبُدْ رَبَّكَ حَتَّى يَأْتِيَكَ اليَقِينُ}
{ And worship your Lord until there comes unto you the certainty( death) }
Quoran 15: 99
#spiritual_me
#ramadan_vibes.
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anvaya 2d
You are Sixteen, Going on Seventeen Parody
You wait, little girl, on an empty stage
For fate to turn the light on
Exams, little girl, are an empty page
That you will have to write on
To write on
You are sixteen going on seventeen
Baby, it's time to think
Which stream to choose, and which books to use
Baby, you´re on the brink
You are sixteen going on seventeen
Exams will fall in line
JEE, NEET will make you compete
And trouble your intestine
Totally unprepared are you
To face what's in store next
Timid and shy and scared are you
Of things beyond your text
You need someone older and wiser
Telling you what to do
I'm in college, have the knowledge
Follow me on YouTube
I am sixteen going on seventeen
I know that I'm naive
People I meet, tell I'll clear NEET
And willingly I believe
I am sixteen going on seventeen
Innocent as a rose
Calculus, function; hybridization
What do I know of those
Totally unprepared am I
To face what's in store next
Timid and shy and scared am I
Of things beyond my text
I need someone older and wiser
Telling me what to do
You're in college, have the knowledge
I'll depend on you
©anvaya -
inspiring_soul 1d
' ✨
What good is a day which
doesn't bring you closer to your Lord..
Wandering outside the limits of righteousness
And chasing the shadows of tranquility
In the wrong places
What good is a day which
doesn't make you a better human..
a day in which you don't know what to do
To make yourself a better person
So that to make this world a better world
What good is a day which
doesn't teach you something new..
An empty page of your life's book
Waiting for the light of wisdom to shine from
the darkness of the black ink
What good is a day which
doesn't remind you of the importance of family..
alone in the world of broken connections
Where kids go astray in the roads of dreams
and parents die lonely in elderly homes
What good is a day when
You can't recognise who you are..
When all the mirrors lie to you and
You lose yourself in your own big questions' maze
©inspiring.soul
Thursday,15 April 2021
#refrain #pbegc.
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yayshi 1d
#pbegc #refrain #wod #rhetoric #writersbay #writersnetwork @writersbay
Thank you @writersnetwork for the first repost!A Day Good Enough
What good is a day?
If you cannot get up
Before the night fuses into dawn
And feel the light evading the dark
The Golden Blessing filling you
Right upto the brim.
What good is a day?
If you cannot see your Self
When you close those eyes
The mysterious white
Guiding your path to Him
To thank for blessings enough
To keep the soul and body
One.
What good is a day?
If you cannot relax
Under the enormous cover of blue
Staring from infinity
To infinity
Wondering your worth
Compared to that humble haughty.
What good is a day?
If you cannot feel
The dusk melting into night
The only dark we approve of
Illuminating all its way
With stars tiny and bright.
And what good is a day?
If you cannot remind yourself
Of all the deeds
You did that day
With a content smile
As you vanish to the dreamland
With a heart satisfied
And light.
©yayshi
