Starfall || A collection of poems
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- Chapitres 19
A collection of poems I wrote with random thoughts or not :)
Written by @i_yeeted_cheese
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#705
romanization
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RIVULETS OF THOUGHTS - Cascading emotions
I am a Poet, surfing the rainbows... Squandering the few surviving winks in my dreamy eyes. I, a well accompanied loner, saunter amidst the fireflies. Like a wandering dream, my restless mind meanders, "Will the same butterflies return to the flower?" It wonders. I am the thief who thieved the fire, to set the ideas ablaze, I stole the rains too, I had to flood the despondent deserts. But Metaphors I'd just borrow, they would never be mine. Metaphors can't be tamed, they belong to poetry, not poets. I roam unescorted and unaccompanied. I'm just exploring. Whilst, really there is nothing to find. "Sshh!" There is everything to find... Yet I roam... As a Poet. I roam. The wilderness, of the mind, the canyons of consciousness. -Harish Vaid harishvaid1986@gmail.com A collection of Poems, of the unusual sort. Read along for poems ranging from Love to Life, General to Abstract, Random to Insane. Intended to be an ongoing series. "Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen." -Leonardo Da Vinci Love all... Love you all. "Amor Vincent Omnia"Terminé![Introverted By My Thoughts [✓]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/146397416-256-k856747.jpg)
Introverted By My Thoughts [✓]
A Poetic series. . With Every passing breath, I sink even deeper into a pool of my own darkness. . *Whispers* "Not your usual poetry"Terminé
Madness
Mind is a wonderful thing.. it's something that makes us-humans, different from one another. We all have a nose,a mouth, two hands, two feet, two eyes, one head-it's the mind inside that head that makes a difference. It's the mind that decides our character, it decides our actions, it defines our life,it's our mind that makes us love or hate something or someone. People aren't all bad or all good.. they have a touch of both but it's the mind that tricks us into loving or hating a person. Most of the times we don't actually love a person, we love the image of the person that our mind creates based on our memories with that person & same goes for the hate as well, we have bad memories with a person, we have a bad image of the person which leads to us hating that particular individual. We don't see people for who they actually are, we don't see the world for what it actually is, we merely see the image of it that our mind has created, the world for us is nothing more than an illusion. Our own personal illusion.. What's funny is that no one's ever going to know your illusion-your world as it is for you.. Despite all of the brilliant illusions that our mind creates, mind itself is the greatest creation of the mother nature. Without mind-this great tool, there would've been no cell phones, no television, no books, no music, no love, no hate, no life. nothing! But in reality, the mind is but a twisted yarn of madness. Yet every mind is great in itself. And didn't they say..? "No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness" -with love, Harika
paracosm-delusional nightmares
{poetry : completed} "𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞." in a tiny corner of the world, but in the vast corner of my imagination, this is my paracosmic delusion, something that i've created out of indignant, dejected and euphoric emotions. each word in this book constitutes my delusional nightmares, the ones that i know aren't really there yet i write about them anyway. this is me, my barest and deepest feelings, and my monstrous thoughts. ✦✦✦ [all rights reserved | ©2021 ] [ cover designed by me ] [ peace \/ ]Terminé
Beneath The Light of a Dying Star
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Thoughts Of Me, Sorry.
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I am a Poet, surfing the rainbows... Squandering the few surviving winks in my dreamy eyes. I, a well accompanied loner, saunter amidst the fireflies. Like a wandering dream, my restless mind meanders, "Will the same butterflies return to the flower?" It wonders. I am the thief who thieved the fire, to set the ideas ablaze, I stole the rains too, I had to flood the despondent deserts. But Metaphors I'd just borrow, they would never be mine. Metaphors can't be tamed, they belong to poetry, not poets. I roam unescorted and unaccompanied. I'm just exploring. Whilst, really there is nothing to find. "Sshh!" There is everything to find... Yet I roam... As a Poet. I roam. The wilderness, of the mind, the canyons of consciousness. -Harish Vaid harishvaid1986@gmail.com A collection of Poems, of the unusual sort. Read along for poems ranging from Love to Life, General to Abstract, Random to Insane. Intended to be an ongoing series. "Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen." -Leonardo Da Vinci Love all... Love you all. "Amor Vincent Omnia"
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