‘Tween legs without hanging, cloning tube, hands tied inside kingdom of plates, forks, knives, fittingly. Rugged palms even at birth, first cry should be the last, plow land, tear not. Masculinity. Fingernails painted in red welcomes thin sheets of cloth be stripped, cream breasts bared, unwillingly. Broad chest cracks in silence, no one wants, your […]
Tag Archives: dVerse
A quadrille for my Rodnoy, my king of sonnets
A peaceful Sunday, watching queen sun’s everyday bowing, with a shaken call, soul-stirring words, i learned of your sudden passing, premature, it is, a thief of sonnets I did not see coming, with a holed heart I ache for your pen’s rash drying. — A poem I wish I never had to write for my […]
so we think we’re smarter than God: a haibun
Once I have read the stars are becoming less visible more than ever. With human knowledge soaring higher and higher (I hope we will not find our specie crashing soon), our mortal hands (tainted with scarlet juice of many wars) have made our earth-based stars, letting our eyes and minds awake round the clock. Last […]
variations of the word uprooting
as a toddler these chubby set of tiny toes were buried in brown cake of forest’s earth, as the plump fingers reach out for blood-red wild berries, as a student these leather-covered soles wandered through cemented schools, universities, as the mind gulps data after data, oh so, committedly, as a two-decade lady these desperate feet […]
open your eyes, see how the world undresses: a quadrille
(revolving earth undresses, each season unravels) spring, peeler of silent blue winter, blush in pastel young blooms, will then succumb to laughing rays of golden sun, salted seas curdle to scarlet red as autumn conquers the rusting lawns, (revolving earth undresses, each season unravels) — 02.25.2020 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash […]
thank you winter, for letting the spring in: a haibun
When I was young there was this Koreanovela titled Winter Sonata, a part of a series titled Endless Love. I was nine or maybe 10, innocent and clueless, but that was my first encounter with you— season of snowflakes and magic. It has been more or less three decades and you remain a dream to […]
counting poems before and after him
thousand poems have i written ‘fore fate allowed me to meet him, oh, how in hush heart- beats, low key hums, dearness draws near me towards him, oh, how my shy muse sings hymns, so sweetly since i knew him, oh, how rhymes roll off in rivulets, thousands and more poems now for him. — […]
soft arms and midnight crumbs
soft arms of dawn sneaks in between half-closed bedroom blinds, (wake up, wake up) infant sunshine sweeps leftover crumbs of late stars’ snack, (come back, come back) i sat, unmoving, inside the swaying boat of an ended dream, (wishing, wishing) our sheet isn’t empty of you. — 01.29.2020 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. […]
of bushes and spilt seeds
and so we thought we are just writing a silly tale of the blue bloom and the honey-hungry bee and so we I mean I wrote with sprinkled dusts of jealousy while you vowed to love me the flower only and so we let the days fall like leaves of autumn so bloody until December […]
army of elements
Naked eyes’re powerless for they are invisible, smaller than dust, no less. Creepy crawlers, void of tiny legs, bursting from vein to vein inside a mortal, muscled-keg. A minuscule army of Platinum, Fluorine, Arsenic, Boron haunting for the invading “C”. With a fatal glow, ‘nother option is the clear-cut missile of Cobalt-60 and Nickel-60. Both […]
