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

Until Noon

I can feel the distance, But my body craves you. I am howling at the moon, Hoping you love me until noon. It’s winter, and everyone is covering up, But I will drop every single layer for you. Will you make the bedpost creak? Like the way we break our Duolingo streak? Or will you be my Count, And leave your marks on my neck? Will you drink away my life force, Or give me your immortal kiss? Who would care about saving it for daylight? We are creatures of this starry night. Will you save me with your sword, Be my Guinevere’s Sir Lancelot ? These boys keep talking about getting high at the pub. Would you do me the honour of the Mile High Club? Will you track my curves like an F1 circuit? Or be like kids fighting over the gully cricket? Come get me, while the night is still young, And we erase the distance with our tongues.

Polished Sins

A suit and tie, that polished smile, Covering up sins stacked mile by mile. They flaunt “new love,” someone else’s child— A ready-made story, perfectly styled. They’ve “levelled up,” or so they preach, But on someone’s pain, they made their reach, With vows of loyalty, words so neat, While another’s screams lie beneath their feet. Oh, they “moved on” to brighter skies, Leaving someone broken, with silent cries. They mount new heights, they shout and boast— Scaling peaks on another's haunted ghost. So smile for the camera, flash your pride, Show off the life that you tried to hide. For we know the truth beneath your gleam— A hollow show, a self-made scheme.

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Cruising Alone

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