season singing

traversing the same route five times a week presents me a repeating view again and again and yes, again. the sight of houses, from well-made to thatched huts, occasionally interrupted by massive spaces filled with wild grasses or field of rice stalks, and once with a huge mall. the neighborhood will then be replaced with the passing silhouettes of trees lined prim and proper along the edge of the paved, wide highways. then the homes and factories and taller buildings will wave hello as if to signal the end of the highway and the beginning of the honk-filed and jam-packed city road.

with every single day passing, only the heat of the sun and the cold raindrop dripping are the signals of the Philippines’ two seasons’ ending — wet and dry. (and most of the time, like now, they seem to be fond of overlapping. like summer for the day and thunder and lightning for the evening.) as much as i wish to witness the season’s undressing from winter, spring, summer, and fall, i am only blessed by the summer sun and the sometimes gentle sometimes harsh monsoon showers. 

yet still blessed, yes, for i am among the billions of soul experiencing the warmth of morning sun and the darkness of the velvet evening. to live and to be living, itself is a blessing.

the summer sun and
the monsoon rain take their turns.
my grateful heart sings.

09.05.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Devil_Jameson RAGE on Unsplash

In response to Haibun Monday: Komorebi by Toni of kanzensakura.
I would like you all to write a haibun about how you are affected by season changes, if you do any special activities, what you have done in the past or have planned for the future season between seasons
dverse

 

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Fading Photograph

i stumbled upon my five-year-old smile pasted on a fading photograph. it was just me and my sister. she was crying. i was clapping. (mean me?). my small mouth was wide open, wide enough to show the three blank, toothless-gaps. while my sister, a year younger, was red in her wailing feat.

looking at the once child me, i wonder when did my innocence fade? where did my child-like, pure bliss go? who snatched my genuine smile? is it the cruel world? or is it my own bitter words? but then the present mirror shows i may be tired, i may be sometimes sad, but i am braver. i am kinder. i am stronger. i am broken but better.

storm-battered sappling
turns into a dauntless tree.
breaking’s bravery.

05.24.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Haibun Monday #38, Kintsugi: The Art of Broken Pieces by Grace.
Our challenge is to write about finding beauty in the broken pieces or imperfection and/or the process of mending the broken pieces. You can write about a “broken” object, cityscape or landscape, or personal experience of mending and embracing imperfections. Please write 1 to 2 tight paragraphs of “prose”, followed by a nature-themed “haiku”.
Being that this is Haibun Monday, please write a haibun based on the prompt, ending with a seasonal haiku.   Don’t forget to visit and comment on others poetry, especially to those who have visited you.
dverse

Fog of Fear

inside a cage filled with fog of fear, she stays alone trying to heal the scars of the past of all that is done, the ache of the present she cannot share with anyone, the uncertainty of the future coming with each rising sun.

will i be able to stop looking back and leave the footsteps i have made? will i regret the decisions i have made? will i be able to see a better tomorrow or all that’s left is heart’s sorrow?

as morning rays slip through the tiny cracks of her cave, she cannot help but let hope grow inside. with the leftover, brittle faith she holds on to, she’s coming out. she’s coming out.

she finally choose
to sink not in fog of fear
but in sea of faith.

P.S. Yes, she is me.
P.P.S. Written with a tear-stained face and with ears listening to this song:
Your love so deep is washing over me
Your face is all I seek, you are my everything
Jesus Christ, You are my one desire
Lord, hear my only cry, to know you all my life
04.18.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse‘s Haibun Monday: The only thing we have to fear… by hayesspencer (Toni).

dverse

Free Feather

Feather freely floats
‘bove seas, below sky, ‘tween winds.
Be like that feather.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to dVerse‘s Come Fly with Me—dVerse Poetics by Victoria C. Slotto who wrote her very own Feather Art.

dverse

For today’s Poetics, I ask you to look at feathers. Perhaps you will write of a bird, whether humble or glorious in its array, or maybe you will zero in on an individual feather in its detail, writing along the line of imagist poets. How about feathers as a metaphor, or the function of these structures as they serve our avian friends? You may even choose to get a bit spicy, but what would I know about that? Can you hear feathers? Smell, taste or touch them? What do they mean in certain cultural or religious traditions such as those of Native Americans? There are so many possible ways to fly with this prompt.

Hiems: A Haiku

Haiku

Hiems: A Haiku
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Below zero temp
creates clear white stalactites
sparkling stalagmites.

Photo credit: F.T. Ledrew of Hook, Line and Inkwell
(Thank you, my friend! <3)


In response to Blogging from A to Z Challenge: H is for Haiku

Haiku

Haiku is:

  • syllabic (17 syllables or less)
  • an imagist poem (draws the emotion from the image). Concrete images are described. It is important in haiku to deemphasize the ego. The subject, not the poet is what focuses the haiku. “One of the most common characteristics of haiku,. . . . is silence.” Bruce Ross. The words silence or stillness can be used in haiku, but it is the concrete image as described that makes the reader respond to the feeling of silence.
  • written in the moment. The past can be referred to as long as it doesn’t overpower the present.
  • one of two forms “traditional” or “modern”
    • traditional requires a season be named and images and emotions be drawn from of nature.
    • modern can be images of relationship, personality, experience, etc
  • often a tristich, commonly written in 3 lines. BUT, it can be written in 1 or 2 lines. (if not broken into 3 lines, the haiku should still follow the pattern of 3 units, 2 images that either conflict or expand resulting in insight.) The common break down of syllables:
    • L1 5 syllables describes image (traditional name season)
    • L2 7 syllables, adds conflicting image or expands first image
    • L3 5 syllables provide insight (the ah ha! moment) through a juxtaposed image.

Missed a letter/poem? Read all Poetry from A-Z here.

WRITING 201: Purples and Whites

Your colours speak words

That’s so loud yet so silent

Now my soul’s quiet


In response to Writing 201 Day 1 assignment:

Day 1: Screen, Haiku, Alliteration

There’s a 100% chance that you’re currently looking at the comforting, addictive, inescapable glow of a screen. Screens are everywhere in our life, not in the least when we read and write (and blog).

Today, write a poem about/against/in homage to the screens in your life.


Note: The photo included is my office computer’s screen-saver. 🙂

Photo credit: 7-themes.com 

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

———

Phew!

I think twice in joining this course as I read the Day 1 task. I am overwhelmed by the terms that I have never tried writing before.

But after knowing that Fun Simplicity and Vijaya are in the same course, I am now taking another leap of courage! (But, mind you I am still nervous!)

Here’s to hoping I can finish this 2-week course!

~