cr-cr-cr-crack one corner after another, tip-tip-toe carefully, on top of crumbling eggshells. is it, is it a triumph to walk his crushed carpet of survival? w-w-why do we choose to create home inside crevices so fragile? is it called saving? or is it suicidal? — 11.19.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via […]
Tag Archives: dVerse
blanket and shame (a dizain*)
Still wrapped in blanket of soft innocence, like a butterfly fresh from its cocoon, a young breath given too short existence by evil desire of a maniac goon. A lifeless, cold shell wimps a wordless croon. An animal act, perhaps it is not, for mammals, reptiles, these kingdoms just ought to kill to survive. But […]
the definition of home
He walks ahead of me with his old rucksack and a carton box he asked from a store owner politely. A couple, giggling in front of him, stopped laughing to cross the road, perhaps afraid of his dirt-filled skin. I trace his steps under the faint moonglow not to say a shy hello, but to murmur […]
postal code stamps
Our tongues are dancing muscles sprinkled with the magic dust of languages, as if before birth we’re treated on a buffet of diverse dialects and accents where we select how our mouths will circle and arch to utter each twisted word’s lyrical march, but pause and place your vein-hand in the middle of your breasts, […]
words’ way
Perhaps, there is, maybe, a biological malfunction in me, instead of a mouth singing to the tune of bell-voiced hymns the language of my soul speaks not with dust-tongued shrieks but with the dancing lettered-runes under a smiling owl-light moon, tiptoeing from my scarlet muscle-cave flowing, twirling with each brainwave until they reach the tip of […]
fading murmurs (a villanelle)
Soft murmurs say the end is near, this earth will crumble, disappear. Will you let your story end here? Mouths gurgling aged, frozen beer, choosing to leave peace’s hemisphere. Soft murmurs say the end is near, tired earth sinks under cloud of fear, birds choke with vows so insincere, will you let your story end […]
f l u i d f a i t h
Feeble waves made of infant dusk’s soft wind, liquid mirror glows with sunset’s pastel rind. Fallen plumeria floats, decaying but still blooming, faith, be fluid like water — rippling, shape-shifting, unending. 04.10.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by Chelsea Audibert on Unsplash Inspired by dVerse Poetics: Water, Water Everywhere .
v i r t u o s o
virtuoso, oh no, i am no ace of (many) no’s, i am not numb (yet) against spades of (vicious) no’s, but I’ve my shield of self-belief, just enough to help me swallow (sharp) eyes menacing, (brute) words piercing, (twisted) life unveiling, on my own. 03.18.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by Cristina Gottardi on Unsplash […]
b o t t o m l e s s (a pantoum)
Sip those sunsets, time isn’t bottomless. Let that cold wind kiss your deep dark tresses, while your soul sinks with ‘nother day’s eggress. Sshh, be still, as evening sky undresses. Let that cold wind kiss your deep dark tresses. Tired feet, be bare, let dusts be your toes guests. Shh, be still, as evening sky […]
a c r o n y m
Watch her arch her burdened back, Open her bruised arms, far and wide, Murmur tearful yet grateful chants, As she inhales hate and breathe out Nothing, oh nothing, but love. — 03.08.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash For dVerse OpenLinkNight #238
