What matters is how you tell your story to yourself PC: Pinterest

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  • yogi_writes 102w


  • yogi_writes 103w


  • yogi_writes 105w

    #stardust #couplet

    Come, make me your muse tonight
    Write me a poetry for every star in sight
    Walk me down the aisle of moonbeam
    Reconnect me to my estranged dream
    Sing me the song of eternal love
    Shower upon me stardust from above
    Take me on a trip of the constellation
    Lead me to the way of salvation
    And when the sky's about to be sunlit
    Embrace me in a farewell, as we split

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  • yogi_writes 106w


    Blow hard blow cold oh dear winter
    Try me with your dreadful shiver
    Run your frosted fingers over my spine
    And numb me with your tangled vine
    Leave me dead with your icy crystals
    Bury me under your scalding blizzards
    Finally, when you're done with your wrath
    Thaw me back to the primrose path
    For the summers to come shall remember
    How your harshness could never douse my ember

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    Blow hard blow cold oh dear winter
    Try me with your dreadful shiver

  • yogi_writes 108w

    May you find peace
    in sorrow and in pain
    Along with the love
    that runs down your vein
    May your eyes be lit
    by the embers inside
    Let that fire in you
    keep your hopes alive
    May that sparkle in you
    glisten up your days
    Know that joy and sorrow
    share the same space

  • yogi_writes 111w

    #fibonacci_wt #writerstolli

    Fibonacci poem : Syllables 1:1:2:3:5:8

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  • yogi_writes 112w


    #tanka syllables 5:7:5:7:7

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    You are like dew drops
    that caresses my skin and
    refreshes my soul
    on a winter's morning, but
    fades away with the sunlight

  • yogi_writes 113w

    Dip your fingers in the deep ocean
    Taint them with the dark night sky
    Dress your words in every emotion
    Let loose all ends, let them untie

    Dream with your eyes broad open
    Imagine the most unthinkable
    Let them flutter with wings broken
    Daydreamers are the most invincible

  • yogi_writes 113w

    We carry weapons on the tips of our tongue
    waiting to spew venom deadlier than ever stung
    If only we carried honey we'd know how sweet
    could be the union of two hearts that meet

  • yogi_writes 115w


    This is partially inspired by a Hindi poem by Gulzar

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    Every morning as I open the window
    I see tall buildings adorning the sky
    Hundreds of mute creatures sitting in a row
    Pondering something I don't know why
    For ages they sit there like obedient ones
    Perhaps awaiting their teacher's arrival...
    Then suddenly take flight, all at once
    As if looking for their own survival
    They scatter momentarily then sit still
    They don't sing nor enjoy the seasons...
    I think some perils of living in the city will
    Show up, whether it be people or pigeons