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I Measure Every Grief I meet |Poem by Emily Dickinson

This is an extremely sad poem, much like the life of Emily Dickinson. A poem about her appraisal of the sadness and grief that she meets, and I bet she meets many. This poem just keeps getting sad until the last couple of paragraphs, where she reveals that other’s grief gives her comfort. It is others too, who have suffered. And some of the pains are like hers.

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What’s in Love?-Everything

Dear Poets/Poem lovers I welcome you all to my first ever poetry Blog. The WordGrace is collection of my own penned poems. I consider myself a budding poet and hence I will appreciate and welcome any criticism on any of my poem.The topic which I have chosen highlights Love,intensity of love and definition of love according to me. I am ardent lover of poems,short stories and this leading to my very first ever poetry Blog.I devote this poem to each and every person with whom I shared this heavenly feeling so-called love. My love for writing aspired me to write such poems. Thank you!!

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Holding time still

#Nationalpoetrymonth #updivine #poetry

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Colour-echo of Almighty, by J. W. Cassandra

Colour-echo of Almighty, by J. W. Cassandra, my newest poem. This time I share the poem only in English. I share with you my poem for my friends in the USA without any kind of distinction. I feel for all of my friends, who suffer. I wish you all, my friends, with entire my heart to live in peace and in love again. Every lives matter ever.

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Natural Death

If let me re-introduce myself was a poem. https://www.instagram.com/nyokabispoetry/

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Parts of me

#mentalhealth

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We are a legion

#mentalhealth This is for you, I see you.

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Dear Black Man

No words are enough to describe how powerful you are, black man. I cried writing this, because mine are inadequate. What can I do, to stop their fear of you from taking you from us? They see your power, innate and beautiful and they panic. Black man, you are everything. I love you.

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Journey

They plucked my petals, And called it love. Caged me in a vessel, And called it care. Cherished me rotting, And called it vintage. So I grew thorns and Became cactus. The one they couldn’t…

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Temporary

the stillness that captures its impermanence

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Etiquettes Redefined

ask not to the homeless, “where do you live?” ask not to the atheist, “In which god do you believe?” ask not to the fireman, “does fire burn?” ask not to the beggar, “how much do you earn?”

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Knowing you

It is quite scary, isn’t it? How much I know about you, All the quirks and habits. I wish you at least tried one bit To get to know me too. You have no time for me. No patience left in you to know me. So I am going to allow my intuition To guide me to a decision.

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Mother

The beauty of motherhood, The best of love ever understood. The one who gives us our first home, Brings us to life after carrying us for so long As we slowly grow in the comfort of a womb, Protected, nurtured, raised and loved like we belong. But apart from the mother-daughter And the mother-son relationship, There are relations of many others That we forget are not always of kinship.

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MASK

2 good friends are meeting after a long time.

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Jiyunga kisi din. APNE LIYE!

Saansein toh tham chuki hain, Phir dil dhadak raha hai kiske liye? Shayad ek umeed saans le rahi hai mujhme, Jiyunga kisi din apne liye.

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