Tag: Memory
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The Room Where All Meet #poetry
You were never just one person. You were possibility. You were the metaphor that never needed explanation. And we—me, her, him, they, you— we became the unfinished sentence you whispered into our ribs.
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Ephemeral People in the Subway of the Mind #poetry
Sometimes, all it takes is a single moment — a glance, a line of Neruda, a napkin prophecy — for someone to etch themselves into your soul forever. In this poem, fleeting strangers become eternal companions in the mind’s subway.
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No One Taught the Moon How to Wait, But She Did Anyway #poetry
A poetic tapestry exploring the small, quiet acts of love and sacrifice woven by a family member. Told through shifting perspectives—it captures how grace often hides in the simplest gestures, and how those moments echo across time in unexpected ways.
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Juxtaposition: My High School Lexicon Unfurling #BlogchatterA2Z #poetry
This very long poem explores the profound lesson of “Juxtaposition” learned during my high school. It captures the constant interplay of my contrasting experiences and evolving perspectives that shaped my understanding of the world. The poem revolves around the central “Juxtaposition” word, revealing its enduring significance in personal growth and memory.
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Grains of Time: The Erosion of Love and Habit #BlogchatterA2Z #poetry
The clock ticks, not in seconds but in the slow erosion of stone, each moment wearing away the sharp edges of a life lived in familiarity. A steady, persistent rhythm of routine, arguments, and silences, where love lingers not with passion but with quiet endurance—a constant reminder of presence, even in absence.
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The Bench of Whispers #MonologuePoem #PoeticMonologue
In a quiet corner of Delhi, Elara sits on a familiar park bench, speaking softly to her late husband, Rohan. Through memories, reflections, and subtle grief, she weaves a poignant monologue that captures love, loss, and the delicate act of holding on—even when one must eventually let go.
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Driftwood Echoes #poetry #BlogchatterA2Z
The echoes linger. The silence persists. And yet, the heart beats on—scarred, but wiser. A story concludes not with forgetting, but with the grace of remembering, and the courage to begin again.
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Broken Harmonies: An Elegy for the Absurd #BlogchatterA2Z #poetry
your fingers are matchsticks— you strike them against my spine, watching me burn for the sport of it, a pyromaniac of the soul, igniting my vulnerabilities. the embers glowed with a dangerous beauty, a fleeting warmth that always turned to ash. you said love was a song, but we only knew the screams, a discordant…
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I Remember You for Every Good Reason #poetry
You are the ink that refuses to fade, the laughter that echoes longer than the joke itself. You are the flicker of a candle that never dies, a beacon through fog, unwavering and true.
