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.

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

In response to dVerse Soul gazing

my sun

My love affair with words and rhymes started when I was a kid. I used to win slogan making contests, I used to sing songs with rhyming lyrics. Then I came across William Wordsworth’s “Daffodils”— the first seed of poetry planted inside me. Though my writing heart like Wordsworth’s cloud, wandered far and long. Aside from love notes in rhyming stanzas, I don’t really know much about poems. Then in 2015, I stumbled upon WordPress Poetry 101. With skilled and experienced poets I felt like a child on her first day in kindergarten. Clueless. Intimidated. Yet, deep inside determined.

After a few tries with rhymes and forms, the first haiku, the first sonnet, the first tanka, and then more free verses, I found the rhythm of my pen. Slowly, I befriended the beating ink flowing inside me, ever since. I found my soul’s oxygen. I started breathing again.

Here comes summer rays,
parting the veil of winter.
Poetry, my sun.

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

In response to dVerse Haibun Monday: Who? What? Why?

bone and brain

Unbreakable bone
walled with
collagen and calcium,
ounce for ounce is
stronger than
a bar of steel.

Soft yet complex brain
tangled with
circuits of neurons
and nerves, byte per byte is
better than
a super computer.

Your anatomy is divine.
You’re not a super hero.
You’re a super human.

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

In response to dVerse Super me! (as in the verb)

f r o z e n f i r e

Himalayan mountains whisper
their almost zero degree

the choral of crickets
sings their nightly

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.

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

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

orange veil


Steps. More steps.

Pointed heels tap, tapping,
Hard soles clank, clanking,
against the tiled, abused floor.

The invading final rays
of the setting sun
again entered unwelcome,
between the squared gaps
of the rusting wired fence.

The outside world’s noise,
helped him in keeping me silent.
Even the orange veil connived
in hiding me beneath his body’s blanket.

Office hours again reached its end.
So as my fading breath.

Stab. More stabs.

©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo and edit via my dearest Shubhodeep Roy

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.

©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,

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

Happy Monday, everybody! 🙂

ANNOUNCEMENT: Between My Bleeding Lines (Extended Edition)

#BetweenMyBleedingLines #ExtendedEdition coming soon! . . Epic camera and video production by the brilliant @shubhodeeproy. Want something like this? Please don't hesitate to contact him (or me 😉). . . In case you don't know Shubhodeep yet, he is an amazing artist from India who creates professional and creative videos, takes breathtaking photos, and makes original, soulful songs. . . P. S. Thank you for this, dearest one. 😘 . . . . . #selflove #healing #writersofinstagram #poet #poetsofinstagram #poem #writingcommunity #poetrycommunity #poetry #instapoetry #writing #instapoet #creativewriting #poetess #bookstagram #writerslife #wordsmith #bymepoetry #bymepoetryasia #newbookalert #shubhodeeproy #artist #soulwork #bookstagram #movingon #loveyourself #heartbreak #bleedink

A post shared by R. C. Gonzales (@areadingwriter) on

Yes, you read that right. Between My Bleeding Lines Extended Edition will be up for pre-order soon. 🙂 YAY!

ending agony (WQW)


I’m participating (finally) for the first time to my dearie Jade‘s Writer’s Quote Wednesday (WQW) and my first quote is from the Still I Rise woman, Maya Angelou and her words that have been “the force” that pushed me to write this blog almost three years ago. (Woah! Time flies! :D)

In my first post, Agony published August 28, 2014, I quoted her and said:

“It has been eight years since I dreamed of having a blog. Something I can call my own. Honestly, I have fears of bashers and grammar Nazis. People who might critique my write-ups. People who might oppose my opinions. Yes, it took me those long years to have the courage to publish my thoughts, my views and my what-not’s. Now it will be all available for the viewing and reading netizens. I am now ready for either praises or rejections, for either wow! or boo!, for anything that this blogosphere has in store for A Reading Writer like me.”

I closed the first post with: “Now my agony has ended.”

Fast forward almost three years after pressing that publish button, I am clearly far from the blogger who I was before. I’m just a reader before. A book reviewer. A fangirl of Nicholas Sparks and Mitch Albom and Jason Mraz and Sara Bareilles.

Now, I am still a reader. Still a fangirl. Still a dreamer. But now, a poetess (or I assume I am :D), a self-published author of my first baby “Between My Bleeding Lines” (a struggling one for that matter), a writer by profession and by hobby.

Has the agony ended? In telling my story, not yet.

For each day opens up a new poem. A new story. A new blank page. A new clean slate. A new struggle. A new battle. A new courage. A refilled bottle of bravery.

To write.
To live.
To dream.
To breathe (words).

For there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

Let’s breathe some more, shall we?