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Jun 2017 · 592
CREEPERS
moneysha Jun 2017
Creeper
Oh thou! on whom i creep,
                             thou giveth me space and thou lets me weep.
when i spread my palm in mid air
               thou provideth me space to creep
                    and then thou lets me grow and enter my sombre sleep.

i am a creeper but i was never taught to creep,
             there was a calling i heard as a bud
                     and i knew the echo ran deep,
                            the voices screamt,''creep,creep, creep´
but i could hear the other flowers and bushes calling me their black sheep.

I had seen no creepers (who ever taught me how to) creep,
      i was all alone in the vastness of the plant sheet
           but i had decided that i had to stand tall and creep
                   so when i felt the wall next to me,
                       i opened my palms so i could start the long march before i fell asleep.

I crept, crept, crept, day in and day out
        all around that wall, and,
           when i reached the top,
              yes the top!
                    i felt all lonely and lost.
But then came a bird bringing stories of other creepers who had followed their calling and who stretched and crept and crept, before they fell in to a deep sleep.
               The bird promised that he will bring flowers from different creepers
                     and seeds to sow of baby creepers
                                    who could learn to creep from me.
            
So the next few days, hours and months, there were all these tiny creepers who kept looking upto me
        and awaiting advices on how to creep.


(After i read what i had written, i felt the book SEAGULL in the background echoing itself)
BRAVERY, BLACK SHEEP
Oct 2016 · 233
Stranded
moneysha Oct 2016
Stranded I am by this self
Strolling down the shore with my two lone feet,
I count every detail that I see pass on the shore
As it is a companion I seek among every leaving wave.

I scan around me for a sign of friendship
In this crowded beach of families
I stare away from the embarrassment of sitting all alone and thinking aloud to the waves.

I speak to the clouds and
Every other dragonfly
The sticky hot air at the beach accompanies me
And asks me of my life and my dreams!

I wanted to be in this state of complete stillness
Of an unknown pleasure of having nothing to mend and no body to fend
I wanted to know whom I could meet as a prince charming while I was awaiting on a black horse

Awaiting the kindness and the warmth of a human touch
But wrath and pity knocks along.
Pleasing externals and so the internals can survive
Where I have no one to call but everything to hide
I sit under the blanket of the night longing for a night out
To a party or some gathering
but deep, deep, deep have I entered in this whirlpool of loneliness
where being me outside and being alone is gifted by some natural force
Where fear of attention combined with a knot of failure
where love cornered by being cheated upon is a fallacy of thought
where all the monsters are guardian of my heart
and where FAMILY is a feeling which I hear through some sounds in the empty DUST.
Loneliness has never touched me so deeply. After being in the most populated country and rebelling for a dream like life I feel I'm suddenly a single warrior who have lost all reasons why she ever started this FIGHT!
Sep 2016 · 247
Just sex
moneysha Sep 2016
We can just have *** and then go our ways, he said,
Just satisfy our BODY'S hunger for touch and kisses

We can just have *** and part our looks, he said,
Then I felt and I waited for his goodbyes from my window

We can just have some casual affair, he explained,
Where no one bothers about the others presence and touch

We can just kiss or SMOOCH each others lips, he desired,
With that energy and that attraction I could not resist

We could call each other ONLY once a day, I inquired,
And he nooded his cold nod of dismay

Could you touch me even if we had no *** that day, I questioned,
He just stared at me amused at my words and shame

Could you love me if I was not part of your *** game, I conspired,
To know where this desire was going to drive us

Could someone ever look at me with kindness and love
Where all I ever think of being the SUITABLE girl

Could one ever stop pretending to be liked and to be perfect I wondered,
And never blame someone else for all the blame game?

I step out and take awareness as my long term friend
Where ***, DESIRES, and COZINESS is my words for me to surrender in to,
So I stand here again in front of me, tall and glad,
That I chose ME before anything that could make me LONG- TERM SAD!
Just thoughts on life n relationships
moneysha Sep 2016
Creeper
Oh thou! on whom i creep,
                             thou giveth me space and thou lets me weep.
when i spread my palm in mid air
               thou provideth me space to creep
                    and then thou lets me grow and enter my sombre sleep.

i am a creeper but i was never taught to creep,
             there was a calling i heard as a bud
                     and i knew the echo ran deep,
                            the voices screamt,''creep,creep, creep´
but i could hear the other flowers and bushes calling me their black sheep.

I had seen no creepers (who ever taught me how to) creep,
      i was all alone in the vastness of the plant sheet
           but i had decided that i had to stand tall and creep
                   so when i felt the wall next to me,
                       i opened my palms so i could start the long march before i fell asleep.

I crept, crept, crept, day in and day out
        all around that wall, and,
           when i reached the top,
              yes the top!
                    i felt all lonely and lost.
But then came a bird bringing stories of other creepers who had followed their calling and who stretched and crept and crept, before they fell in to some sound sleep.
               The bird promised that he will bring flowers from different creepers
                     and seeds to sow of baby creepers
                                    who could learn from me about the trip.
            
So the next few days, hours and months, there were all these tiny creepers who kept looking up to me
       and felt all excited to start their journey on HOW TO CREEP.
inspired from THE SEAGULL
Sep 2016 · 211
Scream to me your love
moneysha Sep 2016
Yes I'm afraid that I will NEVER find a man as handsome and as suitable as him.
may be the bar for a suitable man is as limited as I feel.
If only he had the courage to accept me and if only he had faith in himself to do certain things. After almost many months of working on me, on forgiving and accepting the reality of the past and MOVING, I feel stuck on those memories.
Those memories have become thoughts, which have become dreams and those have become my wishes in my diaries. So, where have I really moved on?
I still feel the desire to go back to him.
I still feel he should be a man enough to burn some ***** and jump all the lines of love and limitations and let his heart scream for me. Let him come here and then melt his screams for me.
Let him tell me how he longs to be with me and how he would do anything to get another shot at this relationship as it is with me that he feels the sun is worth more than any gold or money,that it is with me he can be brave as I'm bold, that he is ready to be that GOD for me to believe in and that he thinks I'm the only and I will forever be his only 'QUEEN'.
Just hopes and dreams to undo the mistakes from the last relationship
Sep 2016 · 183
emotions in finding
moneysha Sep 2016
Sprained my neck,
the second he twisted my heart,
I froze in that moment,
while i recalled his words.

Of course, the space seems better when filled with a couple or Lovers,
But the heart seems better just by itself.

How can emotions, touch and kisses,
make someone excited, happy or even possessive.

Of course, I am better off being alone,
I don't want a second person to know how I feel deep within.

I don't want to depend on you,
my pool of emotions, is full of emptiness and anxiety,
the sudden downfall of my heart's graph reflects my unluckiness in meeting someone again,
but well, I 'm glad my life is coming back to my old static life.
No emotions, no love, no happiness ,no curse.
Me, people I meet sometimes, my thoughts, my ideas, my space, my life is Good,

So, Why do i ever need to add OUR / WE?

The last few days, my heart has been filled with some unknown emotions,
it felt beautiful, I never felt alone, my eyes twinkled(or so the people said)
and I wanted to become whole again.

The heavy breathing, the butterflies in my stomach, the melting feeling,
Everything performing at the same moment in my body,
i.e. The moment I see him.

We both hate talking about emotions,
we both want to break distant,
we are scared to trap each other
and we are scared to set each other free.

Life alone seems too long,
but life without a second emotion is hard to follow.

I want you in me,
stay there, longer than eternity,
don't leave me or better, never start this false reality.

Yesterday ,when people were teasing me,
I was blushing ,joyful, a teenager with rosy cheeks,
and felt myself being friendly and extremely funny.

I felt I was the queen and no one could every destroy or rule me.

Today,things seem like a mess,
everything is wrong,
people making fun of me,
me, i'm getting mad,
nothing makes sense and my body is screaming.

How, What, and Why? do all these things happen?
Better, forget about the last 4weekends,
better not look back in the past.

20...,open the doors and let me rejoice in life and the happiness of just being alive.
grateful for everything that i have lost and what i MIGHT find soon.
just some scribblings from the past.
Sep 2016 · 204
The others are the artist
moneysha Sep 2016
They are the others who make art,

    I? ME? No, how can i really be an artist?
             I am a teacher, may be a tailor,
                            may be if i try then i can even cook well,
                                      but no,
                           no way am I an artist.

                     They are the others who make art,

Those guys they look different,
            but look at me, I look the same but just with longer legs.
                       So, I cannot really be called an artist.

They are the others who make REAL art,

             I don't have things like them.
            But well, I think it is OK.
        May be, I might just be a different kind of an artist.
contemplating whether poetry can give you the confidence to call yourself an artist.

— The End —