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writersbay
Be the change you wish to see in this world. Use #writersbay to tag us Writersbay694@gmail.com
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writersbay 1d
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writersbay 3d
Joy in the little things. There are so many things that bring us joy, and we sometimes forget to acknowledge it. The smell of wet earth, the light breeze, warm sunny skies, the smile from a kind stranger, someone paying for coffee.. and so many other little things. Some of these joys are dependent on external conditions, but others are in your control. Like - the taste of some nourishing tea, or a sweet treat, cuddling with your puppy, giggling with a kid - are all things that you can recreate.
Write a prose or poem listing 2 or 3 things in life that bring you joy. Also write what emotion you feel with this joy - peace, comfort, safety, love? And What can you do to bring one of these joyful things in your life everyday?
Happy writing!
Tag and share with #jtcPrompt of the day
#jtc -
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writersbay 5d
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writersbay 1w
Writing is fun. Now let’s think about merging writing with other aspects of your life.
List 2-3 ideas for blogs that you could write/start. What would the introduction for each of these blogs look like?
(Note: A blog is a website with posts of a common theme)
E.g. One could start a blog about Remote Controlled Airplanes, or building Miniature Trains, or Cooking, or about how to start a business.
Tag and share with #blogc
Happy writing!.
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writersbay 1w
List 10 places in your neighborhood that you like going to. What do you particularly like about these places?
We would recommend picking places that you go to during COVID, rather than the places that you yearn to go, but cannot because of quarantine.
E.g. A route that you take for a walk, or a tree that has lovely shade and is a nice journaling spot, or a corner in your house that is your comfort place.
Happy writing!
Tag and share with #neighborhoodc.
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abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz 9h
Nailed milestones = powerful/cruel organisation/individual
Adjectives=qualities
Stained = bloodshed
Impure = inhumane
Dusts = darkness or harsh leading world
#lunaticc #goodbye
@writersbay thank you so much for the repost
Vast happiness consecutively...Adieu humanity
Between the cluster of corridor
Almirah of pages whispered
The prices of hearts are marked
Brushes are painting the bruises equipped
Debuting words are scratched
Nailed milestones snatched love
Colours are clouded blindly by black
Monopoly of crowned crows dumping the dove
Myriad pits are there in lanes
Buried pains are overloaded on prose
Animalia is precisely prejudiced with adjectives
Seeds of injuries are planted and disaster gaze each time so close
Sun arises with the belt of burdens
Noon evaporated all the silky smiles
Clouds are hiding tears in its womb
Legs are stained by glass every mile
Metaphors are rhyming with melancholy
Horizon is imprisoned by land and sky
Happiness is stored in impure pleasures
Scrolling the lunatic dusts , this time kindness is wishing good bye .
~alphabet -
lovenotes_from_carolyn 17h
Submitting for today's #lunaticc challenge, via #writersbay ...
Over the past few days, I've been dealing with nausea and vertigo. The vertigo causes a swaying feeling within me, as if I'm on a boat, despite the fact that I haven't set foot on a boat in years.
The cause is a combination of medication issues and the recent turbulence here on the forum. I sometimes (unintentionally) take on the emotions surrounding a situation, which then manifest themselves as physical symptoms. As things have settled down here, the symptoms have slowly started dissipating too.
Since there was very little I could do about it, I did what any writer would do, when they can't do much else. In other words, I wrote about it. Thank you for reading. ♥️
*I look forward to getting back to reading/reposting soon. Hopefully within the next few days.
VERTIGO
by Carolyn Glackin
Boy, you got me reeling
Like I'm spinning in space
Swaying back and forth
E'er since I first saw your face
Caught up in this motion
I don't know what to do
Going nowhere, yet I'm moving
Ever closer to you
Don't know how it happened
Guess you caught me off guard
Feelin' like a lunatic
Life is hittin' me hard
Babe you got me rockin'
Like the waves in the ocean
But it's time to cool it down
I need to quell this commotion
You shook the ground before me
When you stepped on this Earth
You showed me your true power
So I'd know what you're worth
No need to get it twisted
Don't pull the rug from beneath me
You gotta know by now
I prize the love you bequeath me
Never mind the past
Let's move together in time
Come find me in the beat
Of every word that I rhyme
You can be my rock
'Cause you're so steady and strong
And I can keep us grounded
We won't waver for long
You got me straight up syncopatin'
In this unchecked syncope
Gettin' vertical with vertigo
Between you and me
Come on, let's shake it loose
We'll be together, yet free.
Copyright Carolyn Glackin 4/9/2021
Although song/book/movie/etc. titles can't be copyrighted, I'd still like to mention that I make no claim on the title "Vertigo," as it's been used multiple times by multiple people. Aside from that, and the painting, all else is of my own creation.
Art credit: "Vertigo," by Louise Adams.
#writersnetwork #mirakee #originalcreation #challengepiece #vertigo #intuitiveempath.
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diyabedi 1w
Heyyya lovely people! I am sorry for leaving so abruptly and then appearing again all of a sudden
I don't know for how long I will be like this, kindly bear with stupid me :")
@writersnetwork @mirakee #paradox #pod #ceesreposts #wodPARADOX
The sky looked so blue
I felt as if the happiness will pour down soon
But it turned so gray all of a sudden
And clouds holding back their tears of burden
Can you trust me if I say I am that sky,
a canvas of endless uncertainties?
The sun did not want to smile
even though its bright colours seem so joyous
The moon wanted to hide those grave scars
Even though it looked beautiful with those flaws
Can you trust me if I say that I am the sun and the moon,
Cheerful and beautiful yet so broken and scarred?
The wind brushed my cheeks and whispered
Loud enough for the world to hear those shrieks of anxiety,
The storm came so close that it heard me cry and scream in pain
Yet what the world could hear was bleak silence
Isn't it true that silence is itself a language, powerful and complete?
Can you trust me if I say that I lie between that silence and noise,
A music which is calm yet chaotic?
Summer was growing in the depth of winter
Just like that moment when a new life grows in the slow death,
And the spring was getting ready for the naked fall
Just like an unknown existence gets ready to face the world
Can you trust me if I say that I am known to the world and yet unknown to myself?
©diyabedi -
kaetkey 3d
“You are loved!”
you'd scream into hearts
and it would return back
echoing for a day or two.
How many nows
a day is made of?
And how many times
would you explain
nows are better than
fishy forevers?
And who am I to tell you
that not a loud scream
but a slight whisper
is what your tired heart needs.
By? By...by...
Do I have to say it?
It's you, stupid lass!
Those very nows
when your uneven fingers
get the paints right
on the blank papers
which tolerate your
blank stares for
five minutes straight.
Two minutes of
skill-questioning,
two minutes of
picture completion
celebration-imagining
and one minute of
will to start from nothingness.
Those very nows
when you get a step right
your mentor smiles bright
and you miss it next time.
There's some thing
when it comes to learning
something you already know
which opens the doors
for all the betterment.
And I've seen you smile
when you got the wave right
and wished there was
someone to capture the sight.
Those very nows
when you've been
the reason behind smiles
and for sure you did
smile wider than the times
they are the reason
behind yours.
Songs have been the way
to reach a few hearts
but on the way
you often ignore
the days and nights
spent in the wait of
such songs to reach you
unlike the never falling stars.
Sometimes ignorance
is the best medicine eh?
And you know now
how to deny things.
Just do it when the person
is right beside you
and on your “No”
look if the eyes
are laughing along too.
The things
you'd address as
teeny tiny things,
you never know how
it makes someone feels.
Loved or unloved
worthy or unworthy
peaced or distressed
or maybe all of it at once?
You know now
how it's a simple theory
that when little things
mean the world,
then little things
can fill you up
with happiness to the brim,
can fill you up
with hurt you'll drown in.
The way you see
yourself as if
you don't even exist,
is the worst thing
you've ever done.
And when next time
you'll worship with
all your heart
all the little things,
do consider yourself
as one of them atleast.
©kaetkey
#jtc #ode Maybe. Idk.An ode to
‘not so little things’. -
Ecstasy in June
Morning skies clad in grey ,
a prelude to downpour this array .
Golden rays are nowhere to be seen,
the black curtains hid them from me.
Leaves are now dotted with drops,
I hear a symphony on the rooftops.
Long awaited showers are here,
to quench the thirst of a year.
Soon the showers kissed the ground,
What a euphoria I see around !
The town is now bathed in rain,
O ! great blessing never refrain.
Umbrellas crowd the streets, again
Puddles clutter the lonely lane.
Vehicles proceed in a chain ,
splashing away all the rain.
Some haste to wear rain coats,
Some hurry to make paper boats.
Children find bliss in this place,
When drizzles brush their face.
Peeping through the window grill,
My heart brims with joy and thrill.
Ecstasy I feel in June,
Undoubtedly is a boon.
©thenonamesoul -
asmita_chakraborty 2d
Dusted Dawns
When the night engraves
Hushed solemn noises
Distant city lights twinkle
A few vagrants dwindle.
For it's the time they decide
Whether to live or to die.
Silent music plays around
In the households
Who are happy and sound.
Choked voices choose not to scream
Dreaming minds are awake,
Chasing it.
Sighing wives and praying mother's
Keep offering, to those
Who ain't ever listening.
Little siblings sharing
Untill the last bit
When the blanket's already falling.
Half sewn sweaters lie on the floor,
Feathery cushions on the sofa too doze
Crinkles in the kitchen seems to just freeze.
When the first daylight envisage
Quivering wakes up a tiny rage
A ferver of a never stoping race.
A little bird that drowns itself
In the misty moist clouds and haze
Freedoms he enjoys is exaggerated.
Bleaching effects yet not prevalent.
For the fast world is yet to be awakened.
Hence,those flawless marbled floors yet to be stained.
Some unsated pretty souls seated
In front of huge mirrors that shows them bodily mirages
They want to obtain.
A little soul on his window pane
Is witness to terrain of power
The dusted dawn embrace !
©asmita_chakraborty
I don't know why I wrote this, or it's significance. Just another random rant. A long read.Bear me !
#freedomc #writersbay maybe not the Cinderella you wanted @writersbay still, a fading hope stays .
Edit 2: OHHMYY GOD..This is a double surprise on my way..a wb and wn repost together...I never expected thiss...thenkkeww❤️
@writersnetwork Do I upset you always?
Edit : I love you ❤️ Thankewww❤️
Picture credits to the rightful ownersDusted Dawns
The beginning of another lucid new event.
©asmita_chakraborty -
lovenotes_from_carolyn 2d
NOTE: Please do not tag anyone to this post for the intention of shaming, blaming, fighting, or harassing. That is the very last thing we need more of.
ATTENTION ALL MEMBERS:
As a reminder, please DO NOT post screenshots of content belonging to others. This includes (but is not limited to) comments, posts, images, writings, and any/all materials belonging to someone other than yourself. Doing so is a violation of the Terms of Use and I don't want to see any trouble come to anyone unnecessarily. I would also like to request a ceasefire in the current dispute which is now widespread amongst multiple members. We are better than this. Let's not tear each other or our writing home apart. Speak respectfully or remove yourself from the situation until you're calm enough to do so. No one is perfect. We all make mistakes, but this clearly is not the solution.
Admin Carolyn -
Today I want to celebrate work of art known as poetry,
Where poets weave words to create their tapestry,
Beautiful or sordid, abstract or direct,
Doesn't matter how you outlet,
What matters the most that your audience could relate or interpret,
A legend once said, poetry comes from highest happiness or deepest sorrow,
But sometimes it also comes when you feel empty and hollow,
Doesn't matter the aura of the person,
Whether it is luminous like the sun,
Or as dark as stygian,
What matters is the magic seeping from the words enchanting,
For me poetry is the expression of the storm within,
Calms my nerves whenever I am not at ease,
It is the vent for the turmoil of my emotions,
Also a place where I let go of my inhibitions,
It has been the companion while I battle my anxieties,
Be it a rant or rambling, typing words incoherent or meaningful,
Whenever I get too drunk on life,
It is the rehab that leads me to sobriety...
©paradoxicalpenman -
amtupu_ 4d
"The crickets cried
And the years changed
The picketts died
And yes I changed"
I don't really know why I had to call her 'Ms'
Thank You @writersnetwork for liking
@writersbay Thank You so much!!❤️
#obituary #stygianc #wod @mirakeeworld @mirakee/An obituary of Ms Emptiness & her demeaning friends./
For four fifths of my life length,
I've never really known
How to feel when someone,
Nevertheless close, dies.
When my mother made her last mortified & hugely derisive gestures On Feb 7, 2072, I did not know how to feel. I could not cry, despite that I tried. When they entombed her, I was absent. Dad and her had separated, so my little sibling and I had to live separated, and separated from them too.
I still do not know if the old adage,
"You only pull the hair of those you love,"
Held truth to our parents.
But if it did,
They loved us two.
Okay, Enough whimpering,
I've never before been unbolted
About my "empty" life.
Exceeding Success but a marriage
Built on rogue riversand and
Awash shortcomings
Gave birth to my unwanted
Frenemy, a frenemy
That brought friends too
Ms emptiness
Was hoodwinked into thinking
That I was a charming individual
With decorums
Of raw nerves and instincts.
Boy, was she wrong.
She would plunge everyday for my crumpled cotyledons, through all my being tossed and turned to uncles and aunties and grandparents who were but investing in my subtle but flimsy quick-wits. At one point in drouth I was Frederick Douglas, working in the landfields for too long hours with no feeding, while the sun grazed over my long skull. At another I was a brilliant schoolboy, gifted but never awarded. Never pleasing Einstein.
I was so deeply rooted
And inevitably lost
In a vast ocean of emptiness.
In her shallow turquoise
She was hungry and everlasting.
Boy, was I too
"The crickets cried
And the years changed
The picketts died
And yes I changed"
In my stygian monkhood
I aced through
Skylar and Charybdis,
With oozes of metaphors
Threw down the gauntlet on her
And my pencils ground,
For my (fr)enemies' paper guillotine
A writer Mirakee fulfilled
From flat nothingness
I made Emptiness
And her demeaning friends
Personalized picture coffins
With bespoke designs
Heavily emptiness weighed
And emptiness I emptied
Days gloomy and sad
If she hadn't died,
I'd.
©amtupu_
Apr.06/21 | 09.58.03 -
Rein over fear
Let loose those evil hands on your veins,
That render every tomorrow a tinge of evil.
Hush them silent, those blueberry voices,
Cast off that never ending facade of a smile.
Blow off black candles with white flames,
Sell monochrome outfits to mannequins in motley.
Dismiss all curses spelt from cracked lips,
They too hide beneath spectrum of colored lies.
Blow the detained bugle, retreat your forces,
The war is over and you're still dying of chagrin.
Preserve remaining breaths in heart of grit,
Hold hands with kin, don't let discord rein heads.
Today's welcome could be disguised farewell,
Let not raised voices mask fervent prayer for peace.
Guide your horses, don't chain them away,
Let not ambivalent fears debar sundials in dark.
But please not what's being feared,
Just to greet mother of fugitive victory.
Suck on naked truth hid behind siblings of pretence,
Lift off curtain that dances with winds of fortuity.
©tamanna3
