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?

Author’s Note: The prompt today was about “drinking”. And because I don’t drink (alcoholic drinks, or even wines, never had, never will :D), these lines leaked just like that.

For the lives ended by war, violence, depression, hate, this is my futile attempt to write an elegy for you.

Guns don’t kill people. People kill people. It’s one sad truth we witness every single day.

02.21.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse This one’s on me.
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W i n t e r G r e y

Dressed in winter grey, the fading evening slowly makes way for the still sleepy, Himalayan sun. Rising to kiss the sneaking peaks of Mt. Kanchenjunga and Mt. Kabru, the first morning rays gently open my eyelids to show the gem beside me.

He wears a thick jacket, buried under our comforting, shared blanket. His arms wrapped on mine. His heartbeat with his rhythmic breaths create my early love song. My heart, listens, sighs, smiles.

Two frozen peaks wait
outside the grey-painted room,
he wears summer’s warmth.

02.20.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse The beauty and the misery of grey – Haibun Monday
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P e d e s t r i a n ( A Tanka )

Is it to the right,
or is it to the near left?
Should I cross the bridge
or should I retreat before
the inevitable fall?

02.16.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse MTB — Brevity
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I m p r i n t

catrin-welz-stein-german-surrealist-graphic-designer-tuttart-24

You carry

a bloodline
that has survived years
of hunger and hate,

a mutating gene
that has conquered
thousands of decaying dates,

the sturdy roots
of forefathers who had lived
for your beginning,

the dauntless bones
and bricks of humans
who valued breathing.

Survivor is long imprinted
in your veins.

You are born to break
limiting chains.

02.14.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Image by artist Catrin Welz-Stein.

In response to dVerse Inspired by Art!
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M o u n t a i n F a b r i c

imgpsh_fullsize

As the battered
wheels climb thousands
more feet above
the unending sea,
my mummed heart
undresses slowly.

My nakedness
embraces the
soft mountain fabric
made by murmurs of
the wind and leaves
of the giant
green guardians of
the endless Himalayas.

I am home.

02.13.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via my dearest Shubhodeep Roy

In response to dVerse Quadrille #50 using the word “murmur”. This is inspired by my recent trip in India which touched my soul in a different level. 🙂 You can read more about it here.
dverse

neurotic grooves

Neurons and synapses
used to grooving 
fast and relentless
then comes the
sudden screech,
stop, brake.

The drum’s
beating groove
surrendered to
the piano’s gentle
melancholy,
a shift in melody,
slowed down
the catastrophe,

for the first time
the neurons learned
how to pause
and take a break.

P.S. The change in job is giving my mind a bittersweet feeling. I am used to having a lot of tasks to do, resulting to a stressed out mind. Now I have less work to do, inching to almost boring. But then, change is as constant as breathing. So there. 🙂

12.13.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Tadas Mikuckis@tadasmikuckis

In response to dVerse Poetics: How Are You Feeling Today?
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butterfly heart

how many days will
it take for a crawling pupa
to hide her legs and
grow her own soft cage
where she will
further evolve into
a winged butterfly?

how much pain will
she survive to transform
from a leaf-beggar to
a fragile air glider who
can freely fly?

how many tiny cells
hidden from the naked eye will
she have to break and birth
to create and be created?

i wonder, likewise
how much loss can
a human heart endure
before one learns to hear
and accept the
goodbyes left unsaid.

11.23.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo Jian Xhin@lyianko

In response to dVerse Poetics: ‘The Heavy Bear Who Goes With Me’.
dverse

 

dust and breaths

seasons inevitably change.
a tree transforms from
a yellow green bud-baby to
a daring, scarlet lady to
a bare and naked oldie.

humans will inevitably fade.
a mortal body from its
innocent infancy
grows bones after bones,
endures scars after scars,
wrinkles skin after skin,
expires cell after cell.

fleeting cloud of dusts and
fading bag of breaths,
oh, humans and seasons,
inside the complex cosmos
forever beyond anyone’s
comprehension.

11.08.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via  ESA/Hubble;  European Space AgencyNASA, and J. Hester (Arizona State University)

In response to dVerse Lookin’ Up! by lillian.
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for your information

kick me out
of your life
yes, you can.

kick me out
of my own love,
oh, you just can’t.

i am locked,
chained, tethered,
inside the cave
of my self-sufficient
heart.

it’ll beat
with a thump,
with a thump,
with you
or without.

11.07.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Quadrille#44 by whimsygizmo.
dverse

when rain reigns

while i try
to rein on my
stubborn and elusive
sense of worth,

the rain reigns
against the sun rays
with its freed droplets
of crystals
kissing the waiting,
parched earth.

may i find
the purpose of my
birth, with the petrichor’s
coming mirth.

09.14.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Liv Bruce on Unsplash

In response to Quadrille #40 by whimsygizmo and Rein ’em in! lillian! (i hope i am not too late! :D)
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