Remember Rain (A Poem for Mich)

i remember you
when the rooftop laughs
once the raindrops
start their tickling
session,

i remember how
you write about
the monsoon’s
crystal kids.
how they made
your lines dance,
in love,
in grief,
in hope,
in faith.

i remember you
in drizzles of surprising
summer rains,
when the supposed
parched earth
was kissed by the
mysterious, impromptu
shower,
when you write about
your endless love
for your father.

i remember you,
when the heavy clouds
let go and cry,
i remember you,
a friend from afar,
i haven’t seen
through the eye,
but has touched
my heart,
my soul,
in ways no hands
can ever did.

i remember you,
and pray for you,
when it rains.
i hope this friendship
we have,
forever remains.

—

Happy happy happy happy birthday to my dear Mich of Poetry in Motion. May ou good good God continue to bless you and your beautiful family! Sending hugs to you! ❤

P.S. I hope to see you soon! (with Maria! :D)

—

06.23.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

 

 

 

Yes, I Am

he tried to give me
the kiss of eternity,
like a parched flower
he thought i need his shower,
but i don’t.

i felt my warm skin
against the cold wall,
as he pushed me deeper
to surrender my all,
but i don’t.

i sank, scratched my nails
against his back,
he tried to stop me
with a full-blown smack,
but i don’t.

before he gave
another strong blow,
i kicked hard
his tummy’s below,
yes, i do.

before my eardrums
cracked in his screams,
i pulled his gun’s trigger
and ended his dreams,
yes, i do.

for i am a woman
who doesn’t have a man,
but i won’t let anyone
to strip me to undone,
yes, i am.

now, ask me
if i am guilty,
of killing a monster
who could’ve killed me,
yes, i am.

—

06.14.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Public Domain Photo

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In response to Mugging for the Camera by lillian.

Choose one of these mug shots from the 20s that “speaks to you.” Let your imagination go a bit wild for this prompt. You can be the person, talking to us; or put the person into a poetic “Wanted” poster. Or tell us a tale in verse that “spins” around the mug shot you select. You are limited only by the far reaches of your creativity! The one requirement is that you post the mug shot you choose, in addition to your “mug shot poem.” Surprise me! I’m looking forward to meeting some real characters!!!

 

 

 

Naked

strip me slowly,
it’s fine, i’m ready,
for you.

in your lines, take me
mind, heart, soul, wholly,
not few.

for i’m the real me
when you, poetry
leaks through.

—

06.09.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

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In response to Lai It On! –dVerse MTB Victoria C. Slotto.

This is Victoria, today asking you to write a Lai. Yes, it’s pronounced “lay,” an old French poetry form that was used to tell tales of adventure and courage using octosyllabic lines.

Cloud of Pain

the thing about sadness is
it’s like a thick rain cloud
clogged inside your throat
blocking your breath,
your words,
even your screams.
you want to melt it,
get rid of it,
but it becomes bigger and bigger
choking you further and further.

but the thing about sadness is
when you finally surrender and bask
on its harsh downpour,
its painful drops
will help you grow,
will help you rise,
will help you heal, until
the suffocating cloud
finally bowed, finally bowed.

and the thing about sadness
being a dark rain cloud is it’s
living in a fading permanence.
it will pass.
it will fade.

but you, you are the sometimes defeated
yet always fighting sun.
you will rise again and again,
until no cloud of pain remains.
until no cloud of pain remains.

—

P.S. This is the poem I mentioned to you, Ameena. 🙂

—

05.06.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

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In response to Poetics: Poems that could save your life by kim881.

The challenge is to write a poem to save someone’s life on one of the following themes:

apologies  –  bad hair day  –  bereavement  –  big decision  –  birthday blues  –  career crisis  –  commitment problems  –  divorce  –  does my bottom look big in this?  –  don’t let the bastards get you down  –  first date  –  first wrinkle  –  friendship  –  getting married  – hangover  –  illness  –  insomnia  –  is this relationship going anywhere?  –  is this the real thing?  –  Monday morning  –  money worries  –  moving house  –  parenthood  –  playing away  –  retail therapy  –  rock bottom  –  stressed out  – successfully single  –  when your lover has gone

 

The Afters

notice how the
verdant blanket
look greener
after a stormy night,

notice how the
sun’s glorious rays
shine extra brighter
after a pitch black night,

notice how your
fragile, fearful heart
beats braver
after losing a fight.

for in failing,
in losing,
we grow.

—

06.06.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

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In response to Quadrille #34 by whimsygizmo.

Today, I want you to poem us up a perfect STORM.

 

 

Alarm

the noisy alarm dings,
like the starting bell of boxing,
another fight,
another day,
begins.

with the routine task
of waking,
eating,
commuting,
working,
eating,
working,
commuting,
eating,
sleeping,
repeat,
repeat,
repeat,

may I not lost
my value,
my worth,
my purpose,
my dreams,

under the haystack
of mundanes
in the world of
routines,

before my life’s
final alarm
rings.

—

I wanna go where the mountains are high enough to echo my song
I wanna go where the rivers run deep enough to drown my shame
I wanna go where the stars shine bright enough to show me the way
I wanna go where the wind calls my name

—

05.31.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

Flower and the Bee (Part 2)

sharing the second part of my duet with the bestie, Shubhodeep Roy.  i am the flower and he is the bee. the part 1 is here.

---

my bee, that kiss was sweeter than honey,
brimming with love, i’d choose it ceaselessly.
but after you let go, I saw the look in your eyes,
gazing at another pretty blue bathing in sunrise.

the wind remains warm, but I am freezing inside,
as you fly towards your next flower bride.
i have no choice but to let you go freely,
because I, however beautiful, will never be your only.

angry on me is my favorite flower,
she doesn’t know, how hungry i’m at this hour.
for survival, i might fly to another blue,
but for love, i will always come back to only you.

the queen bee was angry, for i brought only a little honey,
allow me to go to the flower brides, oh they are so many.
your nectar, though only a little, gives me life,
however you misunderstand me, you’ll be my only wife.

—

05.26.2017
©2017 Shubhodeep Roy | A Reading Writer.
All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Shubhodeep Roy

—

Shubhodeep Roy is a new addition to WordPress. 😉 And he tried dVerse Poetics Recently too. 🙂 Check him out here.

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In response to dVerse’s Open Link Night # 197!

One Heart at a Time

can an empty plate be a gift
to the young mouths
and empty stomachs
waiting for elusive food?

can a broken doll’s remaining head
pacify an orphan
after a destructive bomb
snatched her parents?

can an old, tattered blanket
warm up a homeless
sleeping naked
under the frozen rain?

can my hands and yours,
can my smile and yours,
be the calm,
be the balm,
of the wounds inflicted
by hate,
by war,
by injustices,
created by our co-humans?

maybe.
one heart at a time.

—

05.31.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

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In response to Wrap it in Ribbons Please! by lillian.

So today’s prompt: write a poem that includes the word “gift”….or is a reminiscence about a gift you received or gave to someone. Gift us with your words!

Fading Photograph

i stumbled upon my five-year-old smile pasted on a fading photograph. it was just me and my sister. she was crying. i was clapping. (mean me?). my small mouth was wide open, wide enough to show the three blank, toothless-gaps. while my sister, a year younger, was red in her wailing feat.

looking at the once child me, i wonder when did my innocence fade? where did my child-like, pure bliss go? who snatched my genuine smile? is it the cruel world? or is it my own bitter words? but then the present mirror shows i may be tired, i may be sometimes sad, but i am braver. i am kinder. i am stronger. i am broken but better.

storm-battered sappling
turns into a dauntless tree.
breaking’s bravery.

—

05.24.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

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In response to Haibun Monday #38, Kintsugi: The Art of Broken Pieces by Grace.

Our challenge is to write about finding beauty in the broken pieces or imperfection and/or the process of mending the broken pieces. You can write about a “broken” object, cityscape or landscape, or personal experience of mending and embracing imperfections. Please write 1 to 2 tight paragraphs of “prose”, followed by a nature-themed “haiku”.

Being that this is Haibun Monday, please write a haibun based on the prompt, ending with a seasonal haiku.   Don’t forget to visit and comment on others poetry, especially to those who have visited you.

Flower and the Bee (Part 1)

let me introduce you, my dear friends, to the amazing man i knew from Instagram. the epic photographer (go check his Instagram), a talented music producer and songwriter (go check his website), a budding amazing writer (yep. i am a fan and he is now on WordPress!), and my far away bestfriend, Shubhodeep Roy. 🙂 below is the lovely duet inspired by his photograph that we’re both delighted to share with you all. 😉

---

she was beautiful, a bright blue,
wearing a shiny coat of morning dew.
her sweet nectar was too much to resist,
so I dived into her and kissed.

the wind blew hard, we held on to each other,
she could have swayed and kicked me rather.
her delicate petals didn’t want to be free of me,
because i, however ugly, was her favorite bee.

he was the bubbly painted in yellow
buzzing loudly yet his inside is mellow.
his wings’ flaps are my kind of music,
as he nears i felt like i’m sea sick.

bathe in the warm morning rays, we kissed.
i hope my longing for him was unnoticed.
with him, i wish to have a time-stopping power,
for in warm dry or cold shower, i am his, flower.

—

05.23.2017
©2017 @Shubhodeeproy | @A Reading Writer.
All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Shubhodeep Roy

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how about a warm welcome for my dear friend? 🙂 Check him out here. ❤