Not Playing Small

I have been told, I often write sad and depressing poems and maybe a little complicated poems that are difficult to understand and grasp. So, here is a fun little poem that I wrote while in a preppy mood.

Esperando Que Les Guste..

I am tired of playing small.

I would rather have a ball

Stretch my wings and fly

No longer want to crawl and cry

Maybe have a little chat

On a talk show with Chris Pratt

Or maybe go on a tour

With likes of Mandy Moore

Well there is so much to do

Could star in a movie too

Shoutout to Sam Raimi and Jon Favreau

Can I be part of Spider-Man and woo you two

Lend my voice to a Disney character

Or get roasted by Simon Cowell on X-Factor

Create my own little Jannat

Be a party guest at Mannat

I am cool with making memories

Hang out with family and friends wearing fun accessories

Added the lines to sound well-rounded

Otherwise may get hounded

Have all my dreams come alive

And let myself thrive

So let me heal and heal tonight

Climb and fall but still reach new heights

I would rather take hundreds of falls

But no longer playing it small

~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Comments

The Spotted Cucumber

One fine day, tired of "always my way," I reached for comfort, or maybe just a craving. Picked up a spotted cucumber— Seemed harmless enough, so why not? But the moment I touched it, it pricked. Unwanted timber in my hands, Yet I let it be—what else could I do? Hunger led me to peel its layers, Only to find the filth it hid underneath. Worms writhing where freshness should be, Rot, disguised as something nourishing. I thought it was doing me a favor, But all it did was make me sick. Never knew comfort could leave such a taste— Bitter enough to spill my guts out. Next time, I’d rather reach for something rich, Something warm, indulgent, and worth my time. A smooth, chocolaty éclair— Rather than ever go for such a comfortable, unhealthy affair.

Us Two

As the hands struck two… Can you feel my hands on you? The power of the universe with just us two I am so into you. Who’s counting the minutes? Only we know what we brew. Even if the world fades to dark, We shine brighter in our spark. Your lips brush my nape, Undoing the shyness of my drapes. As your fingertips trace me, I melt like that slice of brie.

Temptress

I wanna be your temptress, Get you down on my mattress. You be the king, I'll be your empress. I already have a clear purpose, You can trace every curve and surface. I've got one mission for you— Are you built for the secret service? Let me take a bite of that apple, Can you make me pray without taking me to the chapel? They call me a wolf, but I will bear your saddle, Make me howl like the moon's lone disciple. Either play this like a boring game of Scrabble, Or get your armor on and be ready for a passionate battle.

Cruising Alone

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