Five decades of wandering, in every step perhaps your heels planted seedlings of words, of love, of wisdom, of life. So much of your history remains a hidden story. We’re you a slave, a samurai, a cook, a poet, or everything and more? We can read scrolls after scrolls but never can we know. AContinue reading “the garden of 17 syllables: a haibun for Basho”
Tag Archives: poetry month
spring reeks with laughter of birds
April air reeks of unperfumed killer floating with spring, bobbing as daffodils sing, there goes selfish whims ransacking shelves of kindness, in a bid to survive hunger for toilet paper arrived, common sense of supposed “high- er beings” flushed, hummingbirds, sparrows, laugh at us. — 04.21.2020 ©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo viaContinue reading “spring reeks with laughter of birds”
if only my blanket can speak
rarely do i dream, or perhaps remember my private drama series playing under the consciousness i can not deliberately reach, though when i was able to grasp some bits of pieces of an already fading mid- night memory it will always involve a plane crash- ing (with full hollywood exaggerated effects of giant smoke andContinue reading “if only my blanket can speak”
e x c h a n g e g i f t
Words are the gifts I have always wanted for myself. They are my bars of chocolates, my calorie-free slices of cheesecake. My words is the gift I can give to the world. Carefully wrapped in thin papers of prayer — stamped with a wish that they reach the soul who needed them the most evenContinue reading “e x c h a n g e g i f t”
