on borders and tea

Processed with VSCOcam with a6 preset

brown, a burnt one, is the colour
of this table with edges as perfect
as the borders of some nations
with OCD in geometry, atop there are

tea, two types, the calming chamomile
i take during those days of the month
because it helps relieve the cruel

clenching of my ovary, and there is
green tea to cheer up my gut—
digest, digest, digest, faster,
faster, faster. i remember, my feet
as pink as a newborn mouse, a sign

of its tiredness carrying the excess
number on the weighing scale.
since fourth grade. i learned
that fat and beautiful is never
used in one sentence.

i think i need a cup of chamomile now.

©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For dVerse MTB: Stream of Consciousness Writing
Briefly: In stream-of-consciousness writing, the poet or novelist turns to the flow of ideas, observations and emotions that invade our consciousness, many times hovering just below the surface. Novelist Virginia Woolf described this process as “an incessant shower of innumerable atoms.”


praying nets


mix mud and heavy raindrops,
a murky puddle void of
the skill to mirror even
the slightest silhouette,

pour some more, pour some
more, until it overpours into
a snake-shaped waterway
flowing gently in May,
in a rugged rush on
monsoon days,

either way, on it, lays
the floating wood and
men with paddle arms
away from their thatched
huts they sail, and sail,
and sail, before even the
first breaking of  day,

throwing their nets with
their lean, chocolate arms,
add a whisper, begging
the god of fishes for
a good harvest,

to let this day fill
the chipped, cold plates
waiting back home.

©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For dVerse Come sail
The prompt today made me remember the days in my childhood town where the river is within arms reach, where my grandpa was a fisherman among the many men of our town.

little girls with chocolate cake feet

A two-minute quick sprint
out of a wooden house
with wiggling eight-step stairs
(“our” because we live there,
but is not really ours at all)

and I and my two sisters
are out of reach of our mom’s
arms carrying the fourth
young mouth of the family.

Under a soft-roast summer noon,
bare feet and little town mud
turns into a chocolate cake licking
our tiny toes — mushy and tickling.

Dressed in all white sando and thin
cotton shorts, we dance with the
pair of green blades and the
tender tropic wind, as if we will not

get our asses smacked with
tiny stick from a fallen twig
once our mom, done with
dinner chores, call us back,

“Time to go home.
Time to go home.”

I still wish to have
the soles of my legs free

of leather, or cover,
of whatever the magazines
say it need be,

I am still the little girl
running away, though clumsy.

Well, distance cannot,
will not erase identity.

When can I go home?

©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Catrin Welz-Stein
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For NaPoWriMo 2020: Day Two .

The Bloodiest Leaf

My friends love either spring or summer with the shining bright soleil. I am the odd fan of fall. The only kid who loves to see trees go skeletal. Little do they know the leaf-less twigs also scared me. But I still love fall because of my granny!

She lives in a brick red house with a bold blue door. When Ber-month starts, autumn’s scarlet leaves begin to crawl and cover her brick wall. It’s the signal: let the games begin!

Whoever points the bloodiest leaf, among me and my cousins, will get the biggest chunk of world’s chocolatiest cake!

Word count: 100

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Pixabay

In response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) April 06, 2016.


  • a flash fiction challenge (stories in 100-175 words or less)
  • each story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end
  • no serial (continuation) stories
  • include a pingback to the challenge post

Thank you for the lovely fall-inspired prompt, Priceless Joy! ❤

Read more short stories here:


Bus Girl

Stealthy as she has always been, I almost jumped when she wrapped her delicate arms around me. Age has made it more difficult to stand in an almost jam-packed bus, but the whiff of her freshly bathe scent distracted me the most.

Oh, how time flies.


It was my first day in a new school in a new place caused by a new dad. If only I could sneak some cash I’ll just go away, live on my own. I don’t like my new home, neither my newborn sister, neither this cranky old school bus, neither those dozens of wide judging eyes staring at me as I walked towards the back of the bus.

Throwing myself to the seat as the bus moved, I heard a soft yet hurt ‘ouch’.

Holy cow!

The almost-ghost girl looked up, I was silenced, stunned.

I guess I have something, someone, to like now.

Word count: 150

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Sunday Photo Fiction

In response to Sunday Photo Fiction for March 27, 2016.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

Childhood Treasures

Look at the world with the child’s eye – it is very beautiful. – Kailash Satyarthi

I am a millennial.

I am one of those billions born during the 90’s. Titanic was a hit during that time. Pixar’s first animated movie, Toy Story was shown, technology becomes revolutionary, Philippines was hit by a strong earthquake and so on.

As the world creates it’s own memories, my infant-self was painting mine, too. And here’s a list that will give you, guys, some short of my childhood overview.

1. Printed jumpers is my major fashion statement. (Thanks, mom!)

(L-R) My cousin Jen, Joby and me!

That’s my second sister Hannah and me!

2. Picking ‘sampinit’, a local wild berry here in the Philippines, are our gang’s hobby!

These thorny plants bear red tiny fruits that are mostly sour but tastes great with sugar and powdered milk!

We manage to pose while we’re looking for sampinits! Yes, that girl with a cap is me! (facepalm)

3. School supplies should always be colorful, yes, colorful!

4. Hair clips should be moving!

This craze was started by a Filipina artist/actress named Jolina Magdangal. My mom and granny bought me a lot. I think they like it! 😀

5. Desserts are cheap, and colorful!

Haw Haw Flakes

iced gem biscuits

White Rabbit Candies

5. A day won’t be complete without Filipino-dubbed Japanese animes! 😀

Voltes V

Ghost Fighter

Fushigi Yuugi! (This one’s my favorite! :D)

6. Toys are simple, and of course colorful!

I think this is the very first toy that I can remember! 😀 Though, I enjoyed paper dolls, too!

Photo credit: FavimChoose Philippines, Spot.ph, www.fanpop.com and myanimelist.net

I could list more but I have to stop now!

You made me nostalgic, Laduchessederat!

This post is part of my dear friend’s awesome blog event: The Great Book List!

And for this week, we are asked to list our Treasures for Childhood!

Want to join?

Hop on!



DAY Twenty


Here’s the question for Day 20 of 30-Day Book Challenge.

20. Favorite childhood book.

In all honesty, I did not grow old with many books around me. My mom and dad isn’t readers so you can expect why.

But that does not mean that I have no favorite childhood book.

Before I became a Content Writer, I was once a teacher for children ages 3-12 years old. For almost two years, I taught English and Math to my little learners. During my stint as a teacher, I discovered this awesome book for kids. This is… The Hungry Caterpillar.

What do I like about this book? I admire its popped-up pages, the colorful drawings, and the simple plot of the story. This is surely a book that will be loved by all kids.