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August 16, 2018
 

—¿Cuál es el propósito de escribir para quien no te lee?

—La posibilidad de no olvidar nada que me lleve a lo que ya no soy.

By Genus

CRYSTAL CLEAR
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August 15, 2018
 

PERFECTION

Those eyes, have i seen them?
Their shine, bright as a gem.
I ponder did they ever cry,
Raining tears like gloomy sky.
Your voice is melody so fine,
I wonder would it ever be mine?
The curves of your lips when you smile,
Is it pious or just guile??
Worth a fortune is your peek,
Only mirth and no bleak.
Will I ever be able to tell,
Is it  real or dream to dispell?
Such a perfection...
A truth or illusion?

THE KISS
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August 13, 2018
 

Es hilarante... Decepcionante y desesperanzador que solo escriba cuando mi corazón está en confusión sin saber que es lo que siente, amor,  odio,  tristeza o algo más... No entiendo el corazón y su ambición de manchar las hojas con su sangre... No entiendo ese vicio que tiene en dejar cada sentimiento inexplicable  plasmado en las frases que voy redactando... No entiendo que debe o necesito hacer...  Solo sé que debo escribir y empiezo mi hemorragia con este filo...
Migloz

LOVE IS ALL WE NEED
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July 29, 2018
 

Time flies and my scares are still open. Nothing seems to take the pain away. Here it is again sitting on my chest. By now the wind must have brought to your ears my biggest wish.

Oh God, why would you test me in such a way? Introducing me to a masterpiece so it can leave me in such a tragic way. An absolute curse disguised as a wonderful surprise.

I was perfectly fine by myself. He broke something in me and now I chasing his company in the dark. He is always on my clouded mind. I want to be where he is!

The closer I get and the further he is. My heart is writing words of peace using the blood of the stars. Nothing seems to be enough. He cannot be reached.

We were done before we even met....

AROUND AND AROUND
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August 13, 2018
 

                               CHANGE
Nothing is meant to last
Time is changing fast .
I'm still confused was it all meant to change or was that my fate ?
Emotions change ,
Promises fade ,
And we console ourselves thinking change is the only constant !
Pace with the change
Or else I won't be part of this game .

Since puberty we change
Still we usually don't find comfort in the  changes we face .
In our life time we encounter many new  stations!
But still it takes us a while to adjust the change but why ?

I am  I the only one who resist a change or it's the common pattern for the  human race !

TINY QUEEN
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August 11, 2018
 

Adventure in life is what keeps you going till the end!
@mits26 • Mitali Shah

ROOTING FOR YOUR FAVORITE
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August 11, 2018
 

I saw a movie and I think I ought to write about it.
There are a very few visual dramatics or theatrics that have stolen my heart away from me,
and this one has taken my all.
At times I felt like I was watching my own story or I could really play Juliet’s part.
Oh dear reader, she’s not the famous Shakespeare’s one,
But she’s the one that I thought she would be if she were real.
She was courageous and yet permission seeking,
She was a rebel but she held every bit of herself with poise.
She broke a man’s heart and she wrote books,
She was charming and inquisitive and religion didn’t suit her.
Writing of a script is a lot of things,
Writing, is a lot of things,
But first and foremost,
If it is ...

BE KIND
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August 10, 2018
Eugene, United States


Waiting...

So here we are
With time at a stand still
Waiting for words to be said,
That will never come.
Both of us hoping
The other has more courage
To speak those words aloud.

I'm waiting...

LIKE A BIRD
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August 11, 2018
Delhi, India

Toxic masculinity does not let him cry and compels him to divulge his emotions every night.
Considered phlegmatic and bright they also have a darker side.
Since childhood, he is asked to act like a man and conceal the inner child.
Social norms suppressed his actual side.
Little did they know he can also feel distressed like a woman and gather himself like a HUMAN!

TAIBA BILAL
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August 10, 2018
Ulhasnagar, India

She regretted not thanking the mysterious man in the shadows who had thrown open the door for her to escape the dungeons. A little light on the silhouetted figure would have revealed that her ‘rescuer’ was her kidnapper.

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ORIGINAL
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August 9, 2018
Epping, United States

       
      ~Interactions of the Divine Kind~

Him:
You may indeed so I might taste, touch, and smell you until you gasp, moan, whimper, scream, beg, demand, relinquish,  take, laugh, cry, tickle, whisper, push, pull, buck, ride, merge, smack, pinch, nibble, choke, twist, tongue, kiss, bite, lick, suck, fuck, cum, squirt, and finally lock your body to mine and force me to empty my balls so deep inside your wetness and repeat anytime you'd love. I'll dance with you for 3-7 hours no joke.

Me:
Ohhh so now you're talkin my language..
a willing participant..
I prefer a soul to squeeze and tease, please.
Just a sample will do, I just need a little taste and I promise I won't let one drop go t...

LUSTFUL
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August 9, 2018
 

#Poem

Teach me how to be unbothered
And pretend that it doesn't matter .

Teach me how to be happy without
Bothering about my own people.

But don't console me by saying that
After sometime it won't matter.

Because this time it's not about
The best friend or the lost lover.

Teach me how to unlove
All those people who matter.

Teach me all this quickly
Before my patience ends.

Make a wish , cast a spell
Teach me how to get out of this
Hell .        @GC

BE KIND
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August 9, 2018
Borsad, India

One day,
A person with high intelligence and higher education went to one place which was on the other side of the river.
He hire a boat man to reach over there. There wasn't any other options available to him.

As they approached, educated man ask the boat man, Do you know Physics ?
The boatman was illiterate person so he replied, I don't know anything about physics at all.
If you know physics you can optimise design of your boat according to aero dynamics so that you can drive your boat efficiently with lesser efforts. But as you don't know what is physics your 25% life is wasted.

After a while, he asked further,
Do you know mathematics ?

No sir, Replied the illiterate one.

...

WRITE YOUR OWN STORY
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August 9, 2018
Noida, India

So, she asked herself today,
“What kind of faith is needed to accept that the words you wrote,or ‘re writing, probably will write are reaching
not to deaf ears, But, are read, heard
Silently and felt deeply?”
It still remains unanswered
‘Cause she knew how to pose the question. Her faith wavered,  
she simply had no answer
Her eyes darted back to the words on paper she scribbled a while ago
May be those have something to respond
by jumbling themselves back in some manner...
No sound, not even a squeak could be heard.

©connecting_nicky

BE KIND
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August 7, 2018
 

You're the fire
burning
in my heart

- Anthony Desmond

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CHIRAYU 5
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August 7, 2018
 

I write..
I write to express my fears, my learning, my mischievous of the thoughts that comes tearing from my subtle subconscious mind...

Words they tell me to be kind ...
For knowledge demands it's practice

&
Rest the words ...
They Seem morelike the sounds created by consciousness to call the emotion cards out .. Yeah certainly on individual basis!

Thoughts can be the most loyal friend to the words...

#WIW

BE KIND
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August 7, 2018
 

Selling 10 popcorn packets could feed her ailing husband waiting for her at home. Miles away in London, her son had just bought 10 juice packets for his daughter - whom this popcorn selling grandma had helped bring up for the first six months.

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LITTLE ONE
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August 6, 2018
Faridabad, India

New Delhi, India
07:19 pm

Dear Unknown

"This was one of the most complex construct where reality was whatnot but an illusion, a simulation; just a digital program for fun until the day I accidentally introduced freewill to each and every existing byte of data, an escape plan to the real world, to my world"

Regards
Tushaar
IG : @xtushaarx
https://www.instagram.com/xtushaarx

SAY HELLO TO SUMMER
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August 5, 2018
Cagayan de Oro, Philippines

A POET’S CURSE

...is his gift to write—
to recess time and motion
by etching pauses,
on papers
or in the eyes
that were trained to read
lines between stanzas
and letters.
On those lines
would be images
of parentheses on each side of his lips
and yours;
the first cut;
the first pinch of salt on his open wound;
the first sight of himself
imprisoned willfully in your eyes;
the last drop that never
held upon his lashes
when he thought
of sleeping you away.
A poet’s curse
is his gift to write...
memories.
He will never forget,
but he shall get used to.

WRITE YOUR OWN STORY
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