Milomi's world
Overflowing Ideas.
Tag: poems
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after a million firsts this week is going to be a beautiful bittersweet compilation of my last firsts.my last first day of school, my last school diary, my last first foyer assembly.it feels like yesterday i was burdened by an extra textbook i carried to school a a first grader,the biggest problem in my life…
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art is not a number. the sistine chapel covers at least 12,000 square feet,it is 134 feet long,44 feet wide,68 feet high,it took michelangelo 4 years to complete,it began to be made 517 years ago. the numbers make the art more brilliant and moreapparent,but the art is not a number. it is not how many…
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I found a piece of paper and coloured it blue. There. I held a small part of the sky. I told my friend that it was mine but it could be hers too; I would share.
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lost and found, in and out, love and i play hide and seek climax builds, subsides again- is she who i should really seek? i’ve emptied my cupboard and looked beneath the floor tiles, dismantled my life trying to earn this token i eagerly seek.
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To be so unfettered, almost disconnected from the world’s thoughts, Yet deeply rooted in emotions andRich in comfort and meaningIs beyond me.To make my own story without waiting for destiny to Painstakingly pen down a predictable arc,Terrifies me andTo still deny convention, defy odds, all in the span ofThree hours,Is wildly improbable.I cannot be a…
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Bright and blinding, I hold a Star in my hand. Bold and believing, I dare myself To peel layers of the star’s secrets.
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walk in a straight line, head tall, shoulders back, this is the last time you’ll march, make it count. an announcer’s words hung hazily in the air, claps and hoots and chitter-chatter faded into the background, and i could only hear
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it hangs there; it is hanging in there,a painted poem, just above our grey sofa. when i’m confused and find myself asking too manyquestions, and lacking as manyanswers, i find myself a bit toolost within the thick strokes of this canvas. it is not comforting. it doesn’t offer answers nor consolation nor guidance-i think it…
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today, i will be reciting a poem. it has no title. “i know that the poet cared about this piece a lot, so much so that she could not find a title she loved enough to part with and bestow upon this nameless child. ‘is art still art if it is untitled?’ she wondered. ‘is…
Milomi's world 