weightless (a haiku)

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:
  1. syllabic (17 syllables or less)
  2. 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.
  3. written in the moment. The past can be referred to as long as it doesn’t overpower the present.
  4. 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
  5. 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.

images.jpeg

again (an aubade)

My clingy heart
has never been fond
of the dawn’s pending fog
everyday sitting
outside our window,
drinking its daily
sunrays-made tea
as it waits
for the official ending
of our last night’s
nectar-sweet tryst.

Another day,
another sun,
I have to wait
for another moon
to inhale your scent

again.

03.23.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Blogging from A to Z Challenge: A is for Aubade and NaPoWriMo 2018.
Alba or Aubade are:
  1. a love poem, most often mourning the parting of lovers while extolling the coming day.
  2. constructed at the discretion of the poet, length, stanzaic form, meter and or rhyme. although often a smattering of rhyme is present without any particular rhyme scheme.
  3. dramatic since it is often dialogue between the parting lovers or coming from a cuckold husband or a watchman’ warning. Sometimes dialogue is silent, expressed in images.

images.jpeg

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

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
dverse

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
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

 

Endings and Beginnings (2017 Edition)

Oh, what a rollercoaster you have been, 2017?

The leaves of this year’s calendar is all but gone. With Sara Bareilles “December” playing on my background, with the lyrics:

Distill a whole year down into a day
Act like we all start over with a pristine slate
But to get yourself a new life you’ve got to give the other one away
And I’m starting to believe in the power of a name
‘Cause it can’t be a mistake if I just call it change

let me try to write about this crazy year and what I hope for the next.

The text cursor keeps on blinking, my mind keeps on trying to find the beginning of this post. Where should I start?

So… January 2017 I turned 25 (which I kind of talked about in this poem). It is like 1/3-life-crisis as I remember asking myself, “What have you done? What have you finished? What have you created that you should be proud of?”

It’s a crazy state of asking questions no one can actually answer. So in the end of it all, I let it be. (I’ve been so good at letting things be this year. Not sure if that is good or bad though.)

After the milestone birthday, blog world has been silent while I pour all my energy on Instagram. The camaraderie of the poets there reminded me of how it was here on WordPress, when I was just getting acquainted with my poet-self. I remember being around the awesome group of poets who grew and learned with me. Until one by one they left.

Come May, I released my first poetry collection, Between My Bleeding Lines

BLEEDING LINES

It was exciting to see your words printed and published with a lovely cover by my dear Sarah Doughty. I have honestly no high hopes for this one, and true to “what you think will happen, happens”, it did not soar. Does it matter?

It will be a hypocrite answer to say, “No, book sales doesn’t matter.” Because it does. Who wouldn’t want to hit it big in the first try? Who wouldn’t want to be like Lang Leav and Rupi Kaur? Of course, I do. But I’ve got no expectations and maybe has so little faith. And it showed. It doesn’t make the journey of birthing a book a little less exciting and fulfilling, though. 🙂

Publishing is an uncharted sea I was able to try this year. While the reward isn’t as fruitful, the lessons I learned and the people that made the baby book possible are enough rewards for now. 🙂

In between the hullaballoo of the release and the consistent posting on Instagram, are work tasks which eventually lead me to another “first” of the year which happened last October! My first airplane ride, my first beach experience, and my first out-of-the-country travel trip! (Thailand! :D)

20171012_112933

And 2017 won’t let itself end without a bang as after I went to Thailand for a client’s event, a new job was waiting for me. I was accepted. Considering the family and not myself, I have to accept. Here we go. I have to dive into another uncharted sea.

In between these milestones, I have loved and I have lost. I have given a second chance, and right now, I think that battle is another war that I’ve lost. I want to believe that I’m a brave and not a coward soldier, who knows when to give up. ‘Cause I’m laying down my sword and my armour, it’s time to let people go.

Apologies for such a melancholic post, but believe me, I have a tired heart filled with hope. Like a badly wounded soldier, I’m dusting off my knees and cleaning my wounds.

I am ready for 2018 and the amazing ride it will bring. I am ready to swim the strange sea. I am ready to love and be loved again. I am ready to write and try and try again. I am not at my best position right now, but it doesn’t mean it won’t get better.

It is far better to start the year on bended knee, for that’s the best time to call to the mighty He. I know He will be with me.


HAPPY NEW YEAR, everybody!

getting there: a senryu for TLT

Dusting gun powders,
digging buried bomb shrapnels,
dark road of hate clears.

12.28.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Manu Sanchez via Unsplash

In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week 100!!! (Oh how I miss three-lining! 😀

maybe mismatch

Maybe it was the noise
of the honking fears inside me,
or maybe it was the clink and clanks
of the battling mind and heart inside you.

Maybe I was ready to be brave,
just in time when you surrendered to be afraid,
and these maybes were too loud
enough to create a strong storm out of

our mismatch love.

11.23.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Claire Nolan on Unsplash