I have chased rainbows a lot of times, After the rain when the sun shines, I ran across fields soaked and muddy, But these are rainbows, It is what makes me happy! I chased rainbows a hundred times more…
Clock is ticking incessantlyThe world seems asleepWhile here I amLying supineBeneath the naked realm of sky. I found myselfIndulging the wordsthat overflowthrough my mindAs I whisper my secretsto the zephyr that passes by. The clouds…
We’ve been allured andbecame blinded by the colorful realities of life.Because wenever learn the art of using the white crayon.
I loathed the flowers thatI’ve planted on the backyard. I did water on it every single day. I’ve cultivated it as soon as its roots sprouted. But why? Why did you bloom for someone else?
Some arts aren’t meant to be understood.Sometimes, it is only meant to be expressed by an artist.
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.
If let me re-introduce myself was a poem. https://www.instagram.com/nyokabispoetry/
#mentalhealth This is for you, I see you.
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.
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.
the stillness that captures its impermanence
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?”
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.
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.
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.
