Mirakee
What are we?
- Mortals with a chaotic mind
tired of existing
What do we want?
- An escape from reality
How do we get that?
- By diving into books and movies
of magical fantasy
©sharmee_m
sharmee_m
��But I'm a Poem, a little funny If I were a Song, maybe you'd hear me!��
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sharmee_m
1w
Read MoreAn escape from the reality via fantasy fiction✨
#writersnetwork #mirakee #fantasy -
sharmee_m
1w
Read More
11/04/21
I am stuck in the cycle of 9-5 and eat sleep repeat.
The thought of being stuck here scares me.Cupboard Under The Stairs
I wish I could escape from this cupboard under the stairs.
I have heard of the world that I am born into
With deep oceans
Hidden canyons
Impossibly steep hills
Magnificent northern lights
Cities buzzing with color and life
Stories of witches and knights
Maybe nothing can help me other than a magic lamp or broom
And here I am lying on my bed
In this cupboard under the stairs
I am scared
What if I never even get to see
An ounce of this world's mysteries
What if I am stuck in this cycle
Of eat sleep repeat
What if I continue to be a speck of dust
In this teeming world of possibilities
What if I see a star and never be able to tell
Which constellation it belongs to
What if I always keep counting my what ifs
Until death do me apart from the misery
What if all that I know about the world
Would just be Google's courtesy!
I know not the count of books I am yet to read
I know not the tunes that would be stuck in my head
I know not how many sunsets I would pin to my memory
I know not how many cuisines I might love and devour
I know not the feeling of having another country's, another land's wind in my hair
For now.
But all I know is that I need to get out
of this cupboard under the stairs
And see the magic unravel itself to me!
©sharmee_m -
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©sharmee_m -
I'll Wait
Name something more fragile than dreams
I'll wait!
Name something more peaceful than satisfaction
I'll wait!
Name something more beautiful than acceptance
I'll wait!
Name something more ephemeral than forever
I'll wait!
©sharmee_m -
Temporary
These days
Everything about me
Is temporary
I smile, I laugh
Temporarily
I look at the withering flowers
I look at my reflection
Seems similar
Made of the same energy-
Temporary
I cry in the bathroom
Step out and hum melodies
The songs seem dull
So lifeless-
Temporary
I munch
On the cookies
Near expiry date
I wait for a show
To be renewed
That got cancelled
Getting pulled
Towards temporaries
Is a disastrous trend
Wishing that this
Hovering over
Self-destruction button
Is temporary
Is there anything
That's lasting
Anything other than
Temporary
Anything?
Something?
Permanent?
©sharmee_m -
sharmee_m
32w
Read More
06/09
I am a mess.
P.S. too deep into fantasy novels... Inspired by a series called Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater!
#writersnetwork #mirakee #dreams #reality
@writersbay @writersnetwork @mirakeeTHIN LINE
How badly do you want to
Bring something out of your dreams
An otherworldly flower
A rare book
A lost friend
All that you conjured up
In the unending space inside your head
What if you dream about a place
That doesn't exist
And you wake up to believe in it
You rummage through GPS
And maps and globes
You will yourself to trust
That it wasn't surreal
What if you saw yourself dead
In a dream closer to nightmare
You would wake up
And check your pulse
How would you interpret it
A wish or a fear
Or mirth or a silent slipping tear
What happens if you catch
A falling star and it turns to mist
Would you pinch yourself
To make believe that it is a dream
Or keep stargazing
Until the sky seems to scream
And clue you in on the joke
Would you want to never sleep
Would you want to never dream
What if a dream seems too good
To be just a dream
Which side would you tip towards
While walking on the thin line
Between dreams and reality
©sharmee_m -
sharmee_m
36w
Read More
06/08
I just felt the need to tell you this but I haven't murdered someone, in case you got any ideas! ��Secrets
Who do you tell your deepest secrets to?
Where do you hide your dark past?
Is there an alley that leads you to a land so barren where I can just bury it once and for all?
Is there a sea so wide that I can throw my bottled up confessions into and not worry about it ever reaching any land?
Where can I find a mountain so high that will not give me echos back of what I scream out of my lungs?
How much more do I have to suppress it within myself?
How long have I got before it bursts out and lays everything out in the open?
How long before the truth spills out itself?
How many more times do I have to lie to everyone?
How many more times do I have to lie to myself?
Or can I just keep it like this forever?
©sharmee_m -
sharmee_m
38w
Read More
28/07
#sunshine #raindrops #season
Let's not forget that the bad times have an expiry date and they make you fall in love with the good times..
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Without You
Remember the nights when we had a 'Harry Potter' marathon and screamed 'Expelliarmus' alongwith the characters?
We laughed and cried like idiots, didn't we?
You made me sing along to the lyrics of 'Senorita' throughout a busy week.
Now I can't get enough of that song.
Oh and the selfies, which I categorised into five types always made us scratch our heads for captions late until midnight.
The bitter watery coffees and burnt pancakes, that we claim to have perfected, still are my favourite.
The spot in the garden below our apartment still has our name engraved as we dropped our lattes and left a stain forever.
So many things to remember you by, but not you.
So many things I call mine, but not ours.
So many mornings to wake up without you.
So many nights to sleep without you.
So many topics to write about,
But all my poems stop at you.
©sharmee_m -
Extrovert
It's been a whole day, a 24-hour-period, that I haven't gotten a single meme sent by any of my friends on Instagram. They just double-tapped my last message and left. Huh!
I have been left on read by my best friend for, let me see, ahh, a good 20 hours.
What is this feeling that I am getting - anger, disappointment, insecurity or, damn, anything but that, loneliness?
*Awkward laugh* How can I feel lonely in a span of a day, I mean, my friends would not and CANNOT just avoid me or forget about me or worse get bored with me. Some friends, huh!
I wish I could go out and sit with my friends in our regular spot at our regular café. I just wish I could video call at least one person a day. Ugh!
What am I? Why though?
Yeah, yeah, right, extrovert blood!
The walls are closing in now. I am feeling too many things at once. The latest episode of my favourite running series was so amazing that I wanted to talk someone and tell them what I thought of it. The novel I am reading took a gut-wrenching twist and I wanted to send the 'blue-headed shock faced' emoji to someone and cool down before turning to the next chapter.
I just tried a new cake recipe and I wanna tell someone in person how good it turned out, instead of just putting it up on my story on Instagram.
But now that I have no one, and feel like I am suffocating under my own weight of silence and thoughts, I feel lonely.
I know I have friends a call away but sometimes it feels too clingy to text first all the time. Or seem a little to desperate. Or seem like an attention-seeker. Well, am I categorized as any of of them? If I am, I will be damned. Ugh! Am I losing it finally?
//Oh wait, my best friend's caller ID just flashed. This is gonna be a long call, finally! Not all's lost, I see. (Was I overreacting or is that just my normal way of reacting?)
©sharmee_m
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birajv
2w
Read More#evespoetryprompts
#realm_of_poems #writersnetwork, #pod, #mirakee, #writersofmirakee, #mirakeequotes, #mirakeeworld, #readwriteunite, #newtomirakee, #buddingwriter, #hustle, #lessonsoflife, #lifenitsways, #hopeyoulikeit, #speakingtree, #todayswriteup, #today, #mirakeans
Poems Parade
Dwelling in glossaries to mine
Expressions shine
Similes strike
Meanings alike
Vocabularies march in rhyme
Syllables climb
Metaphors sly
Emotions fly
My words welcome to the parade
As verses braid
Deep emotions
Blooming poems
©Birajv
2nd April 2021
Minute Poem
The rules are rather simple:
3 quatrains (or 4-line stanzas)
8 syllables in the first line of each stanza
4 syllables in the remaining lines of each stanza
rhyme scheme: aabb/ccdd/eeff
written in strict iambic meter
So each stanza contains 20 syllables times 3 stanzas equals 60 syllables total. Since there are 60 seconds in a minute, I'm going to go out on a limb and proclaim that's the origin of the name minute poem.s
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birajv
1w
Read More
#evepoetryprompts
Cinnamon Breeze
Morning fragrance wakes my senses
Misty dewdrops on curls shinning
Serene beauty's warmth expresses
Divine love thee lips beginning
On shores of oceanic eyes
Ruffling sleep by mystic emprise
Spicy, sweet, enticing sweet smell
Cinnamon breeze angelic spell
©Birajv
8th April 2021
Cinnamon Breeze
Delicate morning fragrance wakes my senses
Misty dewdrops on curls on thee face shinning
Thee serene beauty beaming warmth expresses
Divine love blooms over thee lips beginning
On shores of love waves from oceanic eyes
Ruffling from deep sleep by thee mystic emprise
Spicy, sweet, enticing blending in sweet smell
Serene cinnamon breeze thee angelic spell
©Birajv
8th April 2021
Rispetto #2
Rispetto #1: Poem comprised of two quatrains written in iambic (unstress, stress) tetrameter (four feet--or, in this case, 8 syllables).
Rispetto #2: Poem (or song) comprised of 8 hendecasyllabic (11-syllable) lines--usually one stanza.
Both versions appear to follow this rhyme scheme: ababccdd (though I also found a mention of an abababcc pattern). Plus, I found more than a few sources which claim rispettos were originally written to pay "respect" to a woman.
#realm_of_poems #writersnetwork, #pod, #mirakee, #writersofmirakee, #mirakeequotes, #mirakeeworld, #readwriteunite, #newtomirakee, #buddingwriter, #hustle, #lessonsoflife, #lifenitsways, #hopeyoulikeit, #speakingtree, #todayswriteup, #today, #mirakeanss
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darkerthanblack
15w
Will you?
Will you hold me?
Will you let me go again?
Will you kiss me like old times?
Will you be my love for ever?
Will you hold my hand while watching movie in movie theatre and kiss me when I am not looking at you?
Will you kiss me when we walk in road ?
Will you kiss me in my sad times and hug me tightly in my good times
Will you kiss me with same love in your heart and lust in your head?
Will you kiss me?
Will you hold me?
Will you hug me tight like a kid holding its toy or like a dog keep its toy in it mouth and you try to pull it hard but it won't let it go, can you also not let me go like that?
Will you hug me when we go apart from eachother?
Will you hug when I kiss you?
Will you hug me when feel tremble?
Will you be my love?
Will you love me like never before?
Will you love me like you want to?
Will you love me like it's your first and our last love?
Will you love me ?
Will you?
Will you?
Will you?
Will you kiss me when I sleep?
Will you hug me when you see me sad?
Will you kill me for our love?
Will you make same face when I see you again?
Will you be my love?
Will you be my love for our life?
Will you love me?
©darkerthanblack -
darkerthanblack
14w
I want to see world with different perspective.
Actually, I want to see myself with different perspective.
©darkerthanblack -
gelukzoeker
41w
Read MoreThat one place that always felt like home,no wait,it was home.
The safest,warmest place.
(Not for any ex of mine...Its just a loss of someome who was really close to me and now is gone and can never come back.)Only if I knew that it was our last hug,
I would have stayed a little longer,
I would have held you a little tighter,
I would have felt your warmth a bit more,
As I hugged you,for one last time.
©gelukzoeker -
Maybe you wanted a different kind of love,
A kind of love I couldn't give you,
Though it wasn't enough to make you stay,
It was still love.
©gelukzoeker -
"Why do you love me?
How do you find love in me?
How it feels like to love me?
In which organ did you find most love
in me?" -
artemiswrites
29w
Read MoreSigns of hope are always subjective. So are heroes and villains.
#dawn @mirakee #mirakee #pod #writersnetwork @writersnetworkThe Dawn was the villain in the Night's fairytales.
©artemiswrites -
If words had wings
Every morning, as the sun peaks though my window, I bundle down a heap of lost hope, conceal it under my pillow and pretend to sleep. As the day goes bleaker I get up from my bed, wrap a cloak of responsibilty around myself and step out, cause I have to.
This world is a cage, where most birds are born without wings and the rest are just too scared to fly.
I am one of those birds, I am sure most of us are.
We are all made to swim in a puddle of expections and conjecture while we were meant to fly in that azure sky.
Cafes, book stores or the metro, wherever I go, I see a heap of happy souls who are happy because they need to be. I stand in the corner and gaze at them for a while, sometimes. What is it they have, that I lack? I ask myself. Is their cotton less shabby? Or their huts are more warm? Or may be they simply have found a therapy for themselves.
Some of them paint their fences blue, and stroke those cottony clouds with thier brush. They paint their own sky. While some sing themselves a lullaby every time the night gets colder. It helps them sleep.
And then there are people like us, who write. We write, because in our fictions we can be everything we failed to be, we can do everything we always wanted to do, with people we have always wanted to have. We write poems, because it is the only place where we can lend ourselves an infinite sky.
In between our stanzas we are free to fly, we can communicate through the idioms. But, if words had wings, may be we writers would never write.
©thewordplayer -
odysseus
30w
Read MoreThere was a tinge of
sadness in her voice and her
hazel eyes were moist.
A born poet, she
has a huge following on
social media.
Poetry isn't
my forte but I am an
avid listener.
We had met after
ages and it was indeed
a pleasant surprise.
I had bumped into
her at a club, namely The
Poets' Paradise.
Though a local guy,
I'd visited my hometown
after a long time.
I located two
vacant chairs and motioned
to her to sit down.
We conversed over
tea and puffs, and after some
time, she opened up.
"I've tons of readers
but no critical acclaim.
That is what I crave."
"In this assembly
of gifted versifiers,
I'm a big misfit."
"I keep loitering
around though I'm not welcome
by this learnEd lot."
"Almost always, I
feel out of place, yet I hang
around shamelessly."
"Am I not aware
that I am never going
to be one of them?"
Then her expression
hardened; she wiped her tears, paused
briefly and resumed.
"More often than not,
I feel like quitting, but my
old quill is stubborn."
"It won't let me move
from here, and it's in this place
that I'll breathe my last."
@mirakee @writersnetwork #mirakee #writersnetwork #sadness #life #inspiration #poetry©odysseus
