For you
You sit in front of me smiling
And the days we’ve knows seem like years.
It all seems simple,
The vibrations in the air
The randomness of fate
The unspoken pulse of desire.
Smile at me and all hurt vanishes
Like a soothing salve.
It seeps, body and soul,
Healing from within.
- Srividya Giri
srividya_giri
Fascinated by the human mind, mostly confused by mine. To know more, check out #darkqueen
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Tapestry
Sometimes I feel
My mind is like a tapestry.
The pretty picture is held together
By just one thread.
Pull it and the entire picture
Will come unravelling.
And there goes any semblance
Of sanity.
- Srividya Giri -
The garden
I used to watch this garden from afar
When I traveled to my mundane job.
It used to beckon me seductively..
The roses called, “Look at us. Come smell us.”
The lilies and lilacs and the gladioli,
The begonias and pansies and peonies,
The resplendent fervour of colours
Used to warm my insipid heart, tempting it to beat faster.
At last I crossed the threshold yesterday,
The perfume of fresh lilacs wafting,
I opened the great black gates adorned with curlicues,
And -
stepped into the midst of nothingness.
Brambles and dried bushes,
Peat moss dragging over them,
Miasma from a hundred rotten memories,
And the carcass of a black mariposa, as an afterthought.
- Srividya -
Lying
I could be wrong, babe
Your eyes may not be lying
Love, however, is.
- Srividya Giri -
srividya_giri 20w
Life
Sometimes when a light
Appears in the darkness,
You get so blinded by the light
That you forget that darkness exists.
Eventually you get used to
The light and you realise
The darkness around you is still there.
This is Life.
How effectively you live depends
On how you react to that realisation.
- Srividya -
srividya_giri 30w
No hablo español
Muted voices are the loudest
They say,
If it is, then why don’t you
Heed me?
When las palabras don’t come out
For las preguntas that I ask myself,
What would I say?
No hablo español?
Chaos sometimes strains
The relationship I have with myself.
Between the battle of wills
Within myself,
Once I a while more chaos ensues;
Mostly all fire dies down
And dark embers remain.
And the voices are muted once again.
- Srividya Giri -
srividya_giri 30w
Castle walls
The path to my heart
That was once a gateway to you
Is blocked by stones now.
The glass doors that you once opened
Now make the walls bleed.
The archway with its majestic angels
Look like gargoyles.
Far within the atrium
Where the sound of drivel never reaches..
I lurk.
Your wishes lurk.
My dreams lurk.
Life forgets its way
And gets stuck in the maze
In the quagmire of stones
The walls, wide once,
Now Broken, fallen, beaten.
Ruins of the castle alone remain.
- Srividya Giri -
srividya_giri 30w
What you do to my broken pieces..
Sometimes I break
And my parts seem strewn
All over the floor.
The smoke may rise
To the sky,
And water shall flow
Deep within the feelings I muster.
But then you gather
Those pieces that make me;
And you, you alone
Can make and break me.
You shall shape me
Into the marble statue I sometimes am,
Or you shall haphazardly
Arrange the pieces
Into the monster
That I sometimes am.
They say God created his son
In his image.
You try to create me
In your image,
And I lose myself in your hands.
You mould me and it’s fuzzy.
All the mess is just messy.
I lose myself
But then,
Did I gain you? Really?
I never know.
- Srividya Giri -
srividya_giri 46w
New flowers
It’s time to grow new flowers,
In my garden, weeds are all that’s left,
Rescuing them is beyond my powers
Should I resort to nothing but theft?
Heavily had it rained earlier
And the blooms were just everywhere
Now the sun has come to linger
There’s a sting in the atmosphere.
Hurriedly I tried to save the flowers,
But they left, they dried, they withered.
I couldn’t protect my shady bowers;
Where there sang bees, now snakes slithered.
Don’t say I gave up too soon:
I asked my flowers to give a reason in tune.
They said, “Oh my merry moon,
We never belonged in your cocoon.”
- Srividya Giri -
srividya_giri 52w
When you’re single, you’re not missing out. In fact, you’re gaining more experience living your own life, understanding yourself more, rather than constrict yourself to one person’s wishes and whims.
Being single is a choice, not a fate.
Being single is being strong enough to accept others without losing oneself.
- Srividya
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zohiii 105w
Dedicated to my longtime friend and motivation @_flux_ who has returned to Mirakee after atleast six weeks, and I never stopped hoping that he'd not, welcome back brother!
I'm currently suffering from a block!
#pod #mirakee #writersnetwork
@mirakee @writersnetwork #ceesreposts
#writeʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀ
"Words of hope are swirling in the air; there're a plethora of texts teeming with messages about her, no one will read you." a brief thought whispered by the midnight breeze traced its way into my ears and took away my will to write about her.
It is proclaimed that you feel the fundamental emotions of mirth, sorrow, fear and love in your bones, but it is never acclaimed how you feel rejection resonating throughout your body. Bestowed with the perquisites of writing, I am cursed indiscriminately, for I am able to write, but unable to write anything new.
"How am I supposed to write something that instills hope?" I murmured; something that tells mothers that their sons will be fine, and their daughters will survive; something that tells people that old friends will address them again; something that makes them believe that the dead breathe someplace else and that everything that is falling into ruins right now will be intact.
I am weak, and so is my pen, and my writing is like a thin plank unable to save humanity that is drowning in despair. I'm a mere human, and I breathe the same air, in the same composition so how am I going to make a difference?
I'm too little a fragment of this universe, and it would be folly to feign arrogance in the name of responsibility; before saving anyone else I must save myself. So I pick up my pen, and commence writing, in unusually bold alphabets, a note addressed to myself:
"To convey hope, you don't necessarily have to write a poem entitled the same, you have to write about a loved one or a forgotten one, or a pulseless one or you can leave the page blank. Hope is not a wallflower, she knows how to find her place among people, she knows how to fill the voids; how to cure the cracks. She will find her way to your heart, and home in your words or maybe in blank lines, but she will search a path and will stay forever."
I scribbled clumsily without a clue of what I'd written but I felt the wind wailing in the euphony of the arrival of a friend, for the first time in many seconds that had passed by, I was hopeful that even if I left the page without writing a word, I'll find hope in the thoughts about the wonders I could do to the blankness and that'd render a stay on me from sinking.
I realised it never mattered if my writing was a thick or thin plank, it was never supposed to provide surface to anyone; the least it was obliged to do was to help them breathe a little longer, hoping that if they did, they'd reach the plank.
I write without conclusions because I don't know any, and because no one is destined to know any, everyone is meant to wander, clasping the fragments of hope in closed fists.
So I folded the paper into an origami plane, and pushed it with the wind, it flew higher and higher; it might be chased by a little child who'd read it or it might be flushed in a drain biting the dust, but who knows?
I just hope it floats for a long while before it rests and it rests hoping to fly again.
©zohiii -
Boats.
Dreams
Adrift
In waters
That guide every
Boat a step closer, one tide at a time.
©repsycle⛵ -
Lost one.
I extend my condolence
towards the snakes & fake friends
I end associations with
from this very second.
Time for corrections
A man of honour was born
When I got my back torn
The much-needed resurrection.
Peace to the Backstabbers
'til I'm back in your face waving daggers.
©repsycle✌ -
Elfchen.
Molotovs
Minister melters
Purifying the parliament
Protector of the poor
Anarchy.
©repsycle -
repsycle 174w
Tapestry
I gather scatters shattered in battles
Weaving along the patterns
To escape the great travesty
I stitch myself to the cosmos
Like another thread of this tapestry
©repsycle -
repsycle 174w
Journeys
Dying embers tremble in the dark
Waters pirouette, and
Melody of larks, that
Distances hark
On the journeys, I embark..
©repsycle -
repsycle 174w
Writer's Block.
Miseries
That I undo
By slipping into
Riveries
Pain
Like the art
In my heart
Remains
Feeding
Mind with games
Like the rain
Bleeding
Thoughts
At the tip
Of the nib
Clot.
©repsycle -
repsycle 174w
Child Labour
Looking out of the window
She saw her childhood explode
Soiled with the stains of pain
The way she paints the panes
Overlooked by all
This spring is her fall.
©repsycle -
repsycle 174w
Delusional
A boat called dreams.
Consciousness, a fleet stream
The closer I lean
Farther it seems
Just like horizon
Some distances are delusions.
©repsycle -
the_jay_way 176w
And yes I know
You've fallen in love
But of those boys caught you
That you have given
Your body
And damn near gave your soul
To someone
Whose attention was on another
I know
But even after goin through
All that darkness
I can still see your glow
©the_jay_way
