कविताएँ अभिश्रपित है उनके पथ पर जो समझ ना सके भावार्थ की शूल दिग्भ्रम अहिंसक है साथी चारों दिशा डाले है फूट शीर्ष पर रखिये आकलन को मन माया से दूर ऐसा ना हो मूल से वंचित रह जाए सागर निर्मूल गहराई मे डूब ©चाँदनी #writing

#writing #Poetry

संदीप

(1)नफ़रतों के शहर में नफ़रतों के इस शहर में हम, प्रेम के दीप जलाने आए हैं। नफ़रत से प्रेम बढ़ता नहीं, आज यही बताने आए हैं। (2)यारों शहर बना शमशान यारों शहर बना शमशान, किस बात का करते हो गुमान। एक दिन तुझको जाना होगा, तो मत कर यूँ तू अभियान। (3)झूठ बोलना पाप है जहाँ हो झूठ,वहांँ पश्चाताप है। जहांँ पश्चाताप,हरि वहीं आप हैं। गर झूठ बोलना पाप है तो फिर, सचको छुपाना उससे भी बड़ा पाप है (4)जब तक जिंदा हूँ लिखता रहूँगा जब तक जिंदा हूँ लिखता रहूँगा, जिंदा होने का प्रमाण देता रहूँगा, साहित्य-नगरी को हरा-भरा कर, अपनी कलम से सींचता रहूँगा। संदीप कुमार'विश्वास' ©संदीप #pen

#pen #कविता

Prince Martin

Book quotes My Pen In the quiet of night, I held my pen, feeling its smooth texture beneath my fingertips. With each stroke, it brought to life all those stories in my mind, shaping the characters and worlds with each carefully crafted word. The weight of its significance was palpable, a reminder of the power I held to connect the hearts and minds through the simple act of writing. In moments of solitude, my pen became a companion, guiding me through the maze of my thoughts and emotions. It's not just a simple pen filled with ink, it's a tool of self-expression, a conduit through which I could release the depths of my soul to fill the page. Each time I put my thoughts into a paper, I felt a sense of liberation, as though I was freeing a part of myself that had long been yearning to be heard. Through the ink that flowed from my pen, I found solace in the oceans of life, anchoring myself in the familiar rhythm of writing. It was a constant source of inspiration, whispering to me the stories that begged to be told. With my pen in hand, I am a storyteller, weaving tales that dance between reality and fictions/imagination. ©Prince Martin #pen #story #Love

#pen #story Love

Book quotes My Pen

In the quiet of night, I held my pen, feeling its smooth texture beneath my fingertips. With each stroke, it brought to life all those stories in my mind, shaping the characters and worlds with each carefully crafted word. The weight of its significance was palpable, a reminder of the power I held to connect the hearts and minds through the simple act of writing.

In moments of solitude, my pen became a companion, guiding me through the maze of my thoughts and emotions. It's not just a simple pen filled with ink, it's a tool of self-expression, a conduit through which I could release the depths of my soul to fill the page. Each time I put my thoughts into a paper, I felt a sense of liberation, as though I was freeing a part of myself that had long been yearning to be heard.

Through the ink that flowed from my pen, I found solace in the oceans of life, anchoring myself in the familiar rhythm of writing. It was a constant source of inspiration, whispering to me the stories that begged to be told. With my pen in hand, I am a storyteller, weaving tales that dance between reality and fictions/imagination.

©Prince Martin #pen #story #Love

HintsOfHeart.

उसकी क़लम के भीतर एक दिल था और निब की नस में एक ज़ख़्म! ©HintsOfHeart. #A wounded pen.

#a wounded pen. #लव

मनीष कुमार पाटीदार

कवि लौट आता है फिर वहीं जहॉं उसका दिल लगता है। वह कहीं नहीं जाता... और जाता भी है तो ठोकरें मिलती है। और जब वापस आता है तो खिलखिलाती कविताएं मिलती है। ©मनीष कुमार पाटीदार #writing