Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Faster and faster,
chasing one thought after another.
The unbridled force doesn’t stop
carrying dissonant sounds,
playing melodies on one dissonant string.

The reality?
Shaping through thoughts, through words
and actions.

If you listen, you are a friend.
If you reject it, you are just an enemy.

Emotions vibrating in the air
The butterfly effect works so well.
Nobody sees subtle cracks in the structure.

A pluck of the string.
The fragile beings disappear.
Those who feel compassion,
bearing the burden
of those who find pleasure
in the fears of others.

This is not a polyphony,
this is a cacophony of curses
of those who are unscrewing
the lightbulb in the middle of the day.

Please,
don’t fall asleep
though your eyes are heavy.

You still have your own songs
to sing purely and loudly
in the middle of the night.
Queen-of-night in bloom,
a lake holds our laughter still,
waterfall blushes.

For my best friend, J.
You're my queen of night. 💫

P.S.
Happy 17th to me!!! 🎂🧸🌷
  Apr 29 Sarita Aditya Verma
Isla
i am not a poet,

nor am i a poem.

i am not a writer,

nor a book.

i am not a painter,

nor a painting.

i am not a sculptor,

nor a sculpture,

i  am not the artist,

nor the muse.

i am an idea,

that exists

only

in your imagination
I wrote this on a total whim, I quite like it.
Why

🥀

Why
And For how long
Why can’t beauty, just be admired
Why does it attract hatred
Why does one want to own it
Why can’t it be set free
Free as it can be
Mother Earth
Births

Why do we hold hostage

Boundaries are set
Why can’t they be respected
Why
A sheet of white, admired
Cold and clean
Struck and sprayed
Unawares, the innocent not spared
Scarlet, cries everywhere
Why
And for how long
🥀
Blooming
In the darkest of hue
Brightest of colours
Vibrant orange, magenta and red
Summer’s at its peak
The flowers speak

Gulmohar’s orange glow
Like a sweet memory
Of summer retreat
A bouquet one can never hold

Bougainvilleas
Sigh on the lattice
Like cascading rills
Of magenta pinks

Beauteous reds
Roses and Hibiscus
In the garden grow
Tempestuous
I have always had an aversion to it
I would blurt out the worst
If you would show me pretence
Of care
Of love
Of togetherness
Of being one
No no don’t do that
I am old now
Enough to understand
Pretence
I won’t blurt out things
I wouldn’t put up to it
My duties fulfilled
There I am done
Now I know
Pretence
For the simple reason - how they make you feel
Too lost
To find
Words, far behind

Bridges everywhere
No destination
Destined

Spaces built
Indoors empty
Felt

Don’t look deep
The end‘s nowhere
To find
Written on 24th January 2025
Next page