s a n c t u a r y

Clothed pair of soles
dressed in faux leather top
and synthetic rubber pants,

clanking, clanking,
against the cobbled,
sometimes cemented
concrete jungle paths,

dreams to be
bare and naked
against the foliage
of the fallen petals
of Autumn trees,

ready and brave
to be pricked with
the crisp and thin
sun-dried twigs,

for the slave feet of the city
yearns to be the lost queen
of the wild—

the sanctuary
of the soul’s respite.

05.02.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Let’s Get Wild!
Advertisements

scintillate

Under the bleeding sky
welcoming dawn dressed
in scintillating virgin
rays of the sun fresh from
its nightlong slumber,

breathe in, breathe out.

Feel your beating chest,
smell your flowing breath,
cherish this moment with
no one but yourself.

02.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Soul gazing

f r o z e n f i r e

Himalayan mountains whisper
their almost zero degree
breeze,

the choral of crickets
sings their nightly
lullaby,

the rare blue blood moon
leaks its silent yet
shining beams,

under layers of thick fabric,
behind the speechless,
wooden door,

we set the frozen world
on fire.

03.13.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Quadrille #52 Let’s Fire it Up
dverse

T o M y D e m o n s

As I grew older I learned
to stop hating you,
and start loving you.

For your ruthlessness
is the lamp showing me
to keep my heart kind.

For your darkness
is the night teaching me to find
my own light,

no matter how hard.

02.28.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

O v e r f l o w

In Psychology they say,
the glass will be half empty
or half full based on
how you see it,

on my way home
late last night,
I paused a minute
to look up
to the hundreds
of the stars I can see,
and the thousands more
I cannot see.

For some reasons
they reminded me
of the many things that stains
my heart with melancholy,
and the much more things
unknown to me
that should paint me happy.

So I choose
to start my journey
to discovering
each unchartered joys
life has hidden for me.

I’m sure the glass
will not only be full,
it
will
overflow.

02.25.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Yeshi Kangrang on Unsplash

Happy Monday, everybody! 🙂

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.
dverse

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!
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?
dverse

 

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.
dverse