getting there: a senryu for TLT

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

©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! 😀

Between My Bleeding Lines’ Readers: Jade M. Wong

An Elegy For Them


This poem…

Is for the child
Sprinting through the crimson streets
Tripping over the last breaths
Of her father

For the mother
Protecting her babies’ ears
From the piercing shrieks that echo
Long after the ashes settle

For the thousands of eyes
That look to the sky
Through acid and smoke
And never look back down.

© Jade M. Wong 2017

Meet BETWEEN MY BLEEDING LINES’ beta-readers: @jademwong.

A dear friend for over 2 years now, Jade is a writer who can break, melt or enchant your heart all at the same time. Her gift in weaving words (plus yummy food photos and intereting trinkets) are on her amazing gallery (and you got to check her out). 😁

It is my delight to have her as one of the first eyes to read my debut book. Jade suggested major changes on the sequence of the poem and it really made an awesome difference.

So dearie, thank you for your expert eyes and of course, for the super going strong frienship! Much love.

(As the release of my BETWEEN MY BLEEDING LINES nears (this month!), I would like to feature the amazing writers who guided me (technically and morally) all through out this nine-month journey. I am blessed to have them.)

Beam Bath

Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, and Before Midnight were not able to satiate the need to relax my heart and my mind. Instead, they made me think more about the intangible concept we try hard to grasp and understand. Yes. Love.

Around 8 at night, I stepped out and let my skin be bathed by moon’s beam and stars’ light. The chilled air welcomed me with a band of singing night-shift crickets and swaying leaves and twigs. Looking up, I let out a much-needed sigh and let the knocking tears fall. Inside my soul whispers, “you will be fine”.

Celestial forest
hangs and undresses daily.
You’re never alone.

Notes: Before Sunrise, Before Sunset and Before Midnight is a movie series about love. 🙂 I watched it last Sunday and yes, this entire haibun happened last Sunday. Past week was tough, mentally, physically and emotionally.
It is really comforting to be one with nature when life has kicked you bad. 🙂 I am so glad to be back, loves. ❤

©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to dVerse‘s Haibun Monday – Taking a Forest Bath – Say What???? from De of kanzensakura.
Today, I would like you all to write a haibun (one – three tight paragraphs) ending with a haiku (seasonal and cutting words used to denote the season and to distinguish between the two parts of a haiku).  I would like you all to write about the last time you totally immersed yourself in nature. 


Sunday Songs: For Your Glory

For Your glory
I will do anything
Just to see You
To behold You as my King

I wanna be where You are
I gotta be where You are
I wanna be where You are
I gotta be where You are

When life is hard, when your mind and heart is tired, it is comforting to know that there is someone GREAT who loves us more than most. And HIS presence is enough to calm me down. Shed my tears. Brush off the wounds. And stand again. ❤

P.S. This is also the song I picked because I will be singing here in our church this Sunday. 🙂

Have a blessed Sunday, everyone!
This is my second Sunday Songs with my dearest sister Stella.❤ Join us? 🙂
Video courtesy of Youtube.🙂

Sea Shells: A Senryu

Silence of sea shells
against the roaring blue waves,
peace amid chaos.

Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 28.


So if you are wondering if a 3 line, 17 syllable poem is Haiku or Senryu, you can pretty much place the serious poem in the Haiku column and the more human, humorous poems as the Senryu. (but there are humorous Haiku and serious Senryu, go figure..)

The Senryu is:

  • a poem in 3 lines or less.
  • syllabic, 17 syllables or less.
  • commonly written in 3 lines but can be written in 2 lines and can be written with fewer syllables, never more.
    • L1 5 syllables describes image.
    • L2 7 syllables, adds conflicting image or expands first image
    • L3 5 syllables provides insight (the ah ha! moment)through a juxtaposed image.
  • written as a natural human experience in language that is simple, humorous, sometimes bawdy or vulgar.
  • presented with an energy or liveliness in the focus and choice of words
  • often humorous
  • written in the moment.
  • an imagist poem (draws the humor from the image)
  • untitled but can be #ed.


slowly drifting,
silently sinking,
gradually calming,
million cells shouting.

welcoming blackness,
embracing blankness,
letting mind rest,
leaving world’s mess.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit: Link
Originally written for Blogging University’s WRITING 101: Intro to Poetry Day 3 Assignment.



Melancholy: A Musette*

I’ve tried
I died.

You gave
me bliss for free,
I’m saved.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit:

Word Inspiration: Sarah Doughty of Heartstring Eulogies (Thank you, Sarah!)

*The Musette is an invented verse form that presents the challenge of writing in very short lines. This form was introduced by Emily Romano and found only at Shadow Poetry. The Musette is:

  • stanzaic, written in any number of tercets.
  • syllabic, 2-4-2 2-4-2 2-4-2 syllables per line.
  • rhymed axa bxb cxc etc. x being unrhymed.



Resurrection: A Rispetto*

I am a dried weightless leaf flying.
I am a hole with no signs of life.
I am a stone no one’s noticing.
I am a deep sea no man can dive.

You are the twig that rescues dead leaf.
You are the air that fills holes too swift.
You are the ocean that hugs cold stones.
You are the brave man who saved my bones.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit:

Word Inspiration: Sarah Doughty of Heartstring Eulogies (Thank you, Sarah!)


*Rispetto is a 15th century Italian verse form still popular today. It is usually a love poem, hence the name “respect” for a loved one. It is thought to be a descendant of the Tuscan Strombotto.

The Rispetto is:

  • a poem in 8 lines, an octave, made up of 2 quatrains.
  • in English most often written in iambic tetrameter or it can be syllabic with lines between 8 and 12 syllables from its Italian roots.
  • rhymed ababccdd or abababcc or abab cddc.



Departure: A Diamante*

noisy, disturb,
screeching, moving, screaming,
tired, worn out, peaceful, silent
calming, sparkling, appeasing,
steady, laden,

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit:

Word Inspiration: Sarah Doughty of Heartstring Eulogies (Thank you, Sarah!)

*Diamante or Diamond Poem

The Diamante or Diamond Poem is:

  • a heptastich, (7 lines).
  • often a shape poem, the poem when centered on the page creates the outline of a diamond.
  • unmetered. The measure of the line is the words used.
    L1 – a noun which is the opposite of the noun used in L7
    L2 – 2 adjectives that describe L1
    L3 – 3 verbs (present participle) that describe what L1 does
    L4 – 4 nouns that are related to both L1 and L7 or nouns that both have in common
    L5 – 3 verbs (present participle) that describe what L7 does
    L6 – 2 adjectives that describe L7
    L7 – a noun which is the opposite (antonym) of the noun used in L1

Clothed in Space and Grace

2 Corinthians 12:9 by jaime

I am just reading an empowering post about Space and Grace when its lovely author Bikurgirl asked me to share my thoughts… then I read my dear friend Mel is also asking for space and grace’s meaning. 

Coincidentally, The Script’s It’s Not Right For You started playing on my ears and the lyrics that tugged my heart goes like this:

“It’s hard enough trying to live your life. But not following your dreams made you dead inside.”

So voila.. I am now writing about my own Space and Grace… and that should begin with multiple of confessions.

  1. I am a perfectionist,  purist (as darling Dajena and I discussed:)). I am hard on myself. I want to do things right, always right. I blame myself for my mistakes that can be traced back so many years ago.  Thus, I worry about failing. I can’t forgive other’s mistake, much more mine.
  2. I have OCD tendencies, in all aspect of my life. I plan my blog posts. I plan my work-tasks. I plan my mid-month budget. I plan everything that I can plan ahead of time.
  3. I am sensitive to what people think. Hence, A Reading Writer is a SECRET  to the people who knows me in real life. Hence, my blog is NOT linked to my Facebook account, which is mostly where the ‘physical’ me resides. I am too afraid to know what my physical friends think of my poems and fictions. Too afraid of all the negative things that may happen when I open my blog to the people who know the real me.
  4. I am hurt when people who I read and comment doesn’t do the same with me. I know people are busy, real-life is happening but there are just some bloggers who I tried to visit for a few times to test if we can be friends or somehow a mutual-reader but they are not kind enough to even take a look on what I have to offer. The worst part is that I see their comments around, so they have time to comment, but NOT on me. That hurts me personally.
  5. I have my demons. Sometimes I can silent them, sometimes I cannot. Most of the time, the loudest is named ENVY. 
  6. I put myself last, in everything. My family’s my first priority. I gave them all until the only thing that left’s in me are crumbs that I can barely it. And I realized that somehow it made me tired.

I am now naked in front you so it’s time to clothe myself with space and grace.

Space and grace
oh, I’m in dazed.
Can you clothed
my naked mind’s maze?

Yes, oh yes
you answered.
I am a choice
you can still make.

Here’s your dress
named freedom.
The freedom
to embrace the real you.
The freedom
to choose what’s right and true.

Here’s your shoes
named courage.
The courage to accept
you’re far from perfect.
The courage to bleed
when you’re smashed and wrecked.

Here’s your crown
named grace.
The grace to pick
your broken shards.
The grace to not just breathe
but live your life.

Space and grace
oh, I’m amazed.
Please remain within
my mind’s clothed maze.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Indulgy