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@thepenwieldersblog
Modern Love
Modern love doesn’t do sappy letters or long walks in the park, he does you in the backseat of a car that smells like cigarettes and other girls.
Modern love doesn’t pull you closer to his chest, he pushes you down to your knees, Asks for a blowjob and tells you to go back home when you’re done.
Modern love tells you he loves you, but also tells you that you’d look better on his arm if you lost…
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I've never seen magic.
I’ve never seen magic.
But I’ve seen sparkling eyes, Under a tad bit less shiny stars. I’ve seen some feet dance flawlessly, To the rhythms of joy.
I’ve heard 2 a.m. chuckles of two sisters, Humming silently in the night. And the tunes of laughter on road trips of families on unknown routes.
I’ve smiled on their words for all my sleepless nights I’ve found happiness in someone who’s had my back from miles.
I fathomed…
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Dear you, Open Letter | Soumili Roy (@sohaa.struck) | SHUKRAN - Special Feature 4 | Winner- 3rd Position…
June
It was both, The heavy warmth of the afternoons and our love that people would frown upon that June.
That June was different and lovely and unfortunate, For we fell in love. The kind of love that sketched poems into the air, That the clouds would read out to the sky in a haste, Just before dusk stepped in and the sky would blush a beautiful hue of red.
The kind where the waves would jump higher and higher a…
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June
‘June’ It was both, The heavy warmth of the afternoons and our love that people would frown upon that June. That June was different and lovely and unfortunate, For we fell in love. The kind of love that sketched poems into the air, That the clouds would read out to the sky in a haste, Just before dusk stepped in and the sky would blush a beautiful hue of red. The kind…
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You On my body, your hands you lay, It seems love, you blissfully say. You pull me close, I sense harmony on your skin,
Freedom
“বাসতে বাসতে ভালো তোমারি দুহাতে গেছি মরে” (I kept on loving you while I died in your two arms) “Icarus, your wings are made of wax, don’t fly too close to the sun.” Daedalus must have said. But Icarus didn’t listen. Icarus was soaring high. Icarus tasted freedom. Icarus saw the ravishing beauty of the sun. Ravishing indeed. A numbing fall, plummeting like a comet fell Icarus through…
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Her
She, the tanned heart, In the plastered patch on a soft pink villa, The villa, where she sing lullaby for crying bruises.
Caramel was never her choice, she dipped waffles in dark black ink, She disguised words and never let them scream. She craves poetries beneath her skin.
Her wristwatch run backwards, And heart whines on each blink, Her veins are tiny tunnels where life is pouring numerous…
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Shukran Open Letter | Shweta Dubey (@_wordaddict) | SHUKRAN - Special Feature 3 |
Lullaby LULLABY- Over the years, we've taught our boys to talk with their fists so now
Cliché
She was walking through the streets, trees were decorated with green twigs and lustrous leaves. A few raindrops dancing on the surface, as if crystals. Her eyes on the ground, hands clutching thick books, eyes hidden behind black nerdy glasses and a vintage scarf wrapped around her neck, she kept strolling.
Like every regular day, she waited for the bus.
He was also there, his hair messy, his…
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Coping Mechanisms
And that’s the beauty of Living inside your own heart And giving away pieces Without letting it tear, until Nothing remains except what Holds it together and the small Chunks left, held together, that Cry out in the fear of falling into The same abyss the rest did- Despite knowing that they’re safe.
You learn to love the Heights that reach down deep Into the ground, despite your vertigo; You…
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Children’s Day Behind the curtains of the children's show, stands a row of children, always in a bow. They hold a set of broom in hand, ready to sweep the aftermath of happy confetti and bliss, standing at a distance from the crowd amidst.
Tragedies And An Exception That he could turn my cynic's mind into that of a hopeless romantic was the reason I told them that it's bound to be love or something a lot like it.
Pronounced Dead 'I have been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind.' I don't backspace my texts anymore.
Yours
Poem | Anuska Roy (@forever_stranger_to_you) | “Hands, hands getting cold, Losing feelings getting old, Was I made from a broken mould? Hurt, I can’t shake, We’ve made every mistake, Only you know the way that I break” The November moon shivered in its bed, the temperature dropped steadily as the night progressed, the moonlight descended on the pathway like a skylark’s song in the…
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Maybe Tomorrow
Poem | Ritika (@j_err.y_) |
We ponder over casual conversations between teenagers these days, The economy of the country slowly slipping down like clothes stripped off a woman about to be raped, But that requires a trigger warning, So we change the subject to books and movies but we are too miserable in our own skin, so we talk about death. . We talk about climate change and joke about how the…
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