I write because I read. I read because I write.
For some reasons, a year ending has never made me reflective. I always feel like my heart is sprinkled with pastel joy from December until the first few days of January. It is the time of rest, no, not really. It is the time of doing and travelling a lot, but not for salary, but… Continue reading find me inside this hodgepodge: a haibun
asphalt road in white, absent leaves, abandoned twigs, fresh year undresses. — 12.16.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash — For Frank's #Haikai Challenge #117 (12/14/19): Midwinter (mafuyu)/Midsummer (manastu) #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga My upcoming book, Poems for S is up for pre-order. See it here: https://amzn.to/2CSrGAU .
Man-made machines flying will not satiate humans' dreaming from the clouds to the moon, even Mars is under planning. A brave moth hunting for the fire that can burn its metal wings. — 07.21.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by David Dibert on Unsplash In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales, Week 181 If you want to… Continue reading on Mars and moth
One year ago I dived into another job, left the comfort of the four corners of a white room filled with the smell of fresh news and sweet scent of deadline sweats. With closed fists and shut eyes, I took a leap away from comfort to embrace the unknown new. Now here we go again.… Continue reading calendar leaves
Elevated eyes can see the throngs of the wheeled machines this morning. Like row of soldiers, though not marching nor moving under the 9 a.m. sun burning. Feet need not to tiptoe to see the jeepneys, cars, and buses, wearing the colors of the vibrant Philippines, yet tainted with the grey blanket of Manila's dust… Continue reading m y c a r r i e r
No apologies, no regrets, not a single sorry, from the old mouth of the last man standing from the crew who ended the second world war. Japan started the conflict, that was how the US closed it— with two exploding periods. Periods that bent the knees of the Land of the Rising Sun. Periods that… Continue reading Fading Periods
Autumn window smiles as weightless leaves start falling. Yes, you can let go. — 03.23.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash In response to Blogging from A to Z Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2018. H is for Haiku. Haiku are: syllabic (17 syllables or less) an imagist poem (draws the emotion from the image). Concrete images are… Continue reading weightless (a haiku)
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… Continue reading W i n t e r G r e y
His touch holds the warmth of a dawning summer sun, a dozed heart wakes up. — 02.15.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash
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… Continue reading season singing
A Reading Writer 