lulled death (a go vat)

Inside silence, a flower blooms, Lifting petals, leaking perfume. Lull can also be beautiful. Microscopic lens slowly zooms, locates a dead leaf ‘s many rooms. Death can also be beautiful. — 03.23.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash In response to Blogging from A to Z Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2018. G is for Go Vat. […]

Book Review: When Breath Becomes Air

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi Rating: ❤❤❤❤❤ What is it about: At the age of thirty-six, on the verge of completing a decade’s worth of training as a neurosurgeon, Paul Kalanithi was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. One day he was a doctor treating the dying, and the next he was a patient struggling to live. […]

orange veil

Steps. More steps. Pointed heels tap, tapping, Hard soles clank, clanking, against the tiled, abused floor. The invading final rays of the setting sun again entered unwelcome, between the squared gaps of the rusting wired fence. The outside world’s noise, helped him in keeping me silent. Even the orange veil connived in hiding me beneath […]

B l o o d y H a n g o v e r

More shots fired, bang! bang! Another mug overflowed with blood, blood. Blood from veins of the innocents. Veins pulsing, asking, why oh why, again? Till when, oh please, till when? Who turned on the faucet of this intoxicating hate? How many pills of love, should the orphaned earth take to end this bloody hangover? — […]

The Picnic

after more than a decade of virtual hugs and late night chats, the four girlfriends have finally met again for a summer picnic. two married, one engaged, one still single, they’ve bonded because of one common denominator: a guy they played love with. a nerd from college who’s known for his ragged blue jeans and an old-day-smelling shirt. under the hot sun with […]

Our River

the gentle whispers of the trees’ breeze. the tender murmur of river’s flow. the playful tweets of the little birds. these sweet sensual delights are the reasons why we used to visit this river. the river we called ours. today i clutch unto you, unto your vessel. your vessel made of cold porcelain, a stark contrast […]

Spring Bud

I smell how the supposed sweet, summer aroma turned into a chilling winter scent as I watch how her soft, smooth skin turns from blushed pink to lifeless violet. I listen to her frail heartbeats, silently begging, pleading, helpless against her quite incoming death. With a tear-stained face, my mouth utters its own prayer as […]

Four Bullets

One. Two. Three. Four. His seven-decade-old hands hold tight on the rusting rails of his lightless room’s window. His darkened eyes stare at the now fallen tree and then to the triumphant men who successfully defeated the lush pine. The lush pine planted and reared by his wife. His wife who died last month. He […]

Red: A Rondelet

Dripping red blood from her pale wrist she cut deeply. Dripping red blood screams her pain she kept hidden, locked. She relish the pain silently, her final seconds end slowly— dripping red blood. — Photo credit: Unsplash In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 25. — The Rondelet is a relatively short poem using the entire opening […]

Nature’s Calling: A Naani

If grief’s a black smoke we’ll all be blind now. Killings, murders, hate are they nature’s calling? Or we’re just all fan of dying? — Photo credit: Unsplash In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 21. — The Naani is a stanzaic form found at Shadow Poetry and is most often an observation of human relations or […]