If you haven’t watched / listened to Sarah Kay’s Spoken word poem, A Love Letter from a ToothBrush to a Bicycle Tire, you should:
This is not a poem. I write some here and here I’m scared of a prospective listener, because they might be online, and the fact that most probably I would never meet them, is all the more, scary, like a dream where you’re doing what you want but you wake up either to an alarm […]
Previously I wrote an ode to socks on a prompt. It highlighted the fact that I reuse socks after they stop stinking about a week or so later, and ultimately throw them out. Here have a read: #socks #yopowrimo #ode #funny My brother and I are going to sing this and share soon 😉 AN […]
A week ago, I wrote When Family Becomes A Distant Memory. Khawaja Musadiq, a wonderful wonderful poet turned it into a poem, thousand times more beautiful. Although he doesn’t know the context and details I wrote the blog post in, nonetheless he wrote so beautifully. surviving on a bleak glimmer of h o p e , […]
Poems, Penises, Babies, Hard Work, Deadlines, Exams
This is LOL 🤣, Weekly List of Lit issue #13! You can know about what this curation is and why I started it, here. If You want to read the previous curations Want to get notified when the next week’s curation of good literary/arty links is up, in your email inbox, you can follow LOL: Weekly List of Lit Medium Publication. Also! The exciting part […]
It’s a viscous loop isn’t it? Experiences create tendencies, and tendencies in turn create experiences. Where’s the source? I watched a video lately. A friend suggested it to me. I still have this and other playlists to watch, and even more. Yoga Vashishtha for starters. But the question, where is the source? Source is in […]
An internal journey through happiness, pain, sorrow... and countless emotions
- Madhura Banerjee -
POET & WRITER
bottled sunshine and bits of tofu
Prose infiltrating the ranks of poetry.
from dark woods to open sky.
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to the big girls with small voices
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THE PLACE WHERE STORIES COME TO BE WOVEN OUT OF SUBURBAN AIR
We are all senile in here
Done being told how to behave, where to go, and why to exist.
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Threw a loose net over a sea of words, caught a few fresh flippery tales. Some slipped off my memory, a colourful few stayed.
Hiding a crippling need for approval.
What Are You Speaking Today?
Any old world uncovered by new writing
Arpita Pramanick ~ Author & Blogger
Art in the Everyday | Poetry | Writing
~The Modern Musings of LaRonda Moore~
"Of this I am certain: The moment you said, "You are..." I no longer recognized myself. I am more than the woman you see. "
Software and other dark arts, by Nolan Lawson