Crossing Continents

we agreed to
dig and dig,
down under where
the worms and seeds
sleep and sleep.

for at the middle
of this continental-crossing
tunnel,
we promise to
fin’lly meet.

let’s say pardon
to the roots our
shovels will
step on.

let’s say bye
to the above earth
we’ll forget as we
move on.

for we will meet
underground,
beyond borders
of the map.

for we will live
underground
away from hate,
yes, towards love.

05.24.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Underground by paul scribbles.
Bring me a poem from your underground travels and haul it back to the surface for us all to read. Happy writing.
dverse

Forest Orchestra

the sweet tweets of the birds,
the crisp cracks of dried twigs,
the whispered whistles of the wind,
the sounds of the forest orchestra.
oh, surreal and soothing
flora and fauna.

yet they can’t calm me like
how your heartbeats’
thump,
thump,
thump
can.

05.23.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Sound Off! dVerse Quadrille #33 by Victoria C. Slotto.
I have a sound (adjective) reason for sharing this with you today and ask you now to use the word SOUND in a poem, following the very fun Quadrille form, a poem that soundly (adverb) embraces exactly 44 words, excluding the title. Check out the dictionary. I found a plethora of ways to sound-off. Maybe you will even want to play with assonance, consonance or one of the many ways that sound adds beauty, texture or feeling to a poem.
dverse

BLEEDING LINES

My debut book Between My Bleeding Lines is now available on Amazon and Createspace! Please see the following links:

Thank you! ❤

 

 

Buried Deep

her feet buried
in a deep, deep soil of grief
and self-doubt.

a larva cocooned so long,
afraid to break free,
to break out.

until the wind of change
made her shell dance,
wiggle, wriggle,
jiggle, wobble,
shake, bounce.

life’s gonna hurt
but it’s meant to be felt.
come out now,
free yourself,
be brave.

P.S. Another piece inspired by India Arie. This time it’s her song Break the Shell.
Child its time to break the shell
Life’s gonna hurt but its meant to be felt
You cannot touch the sky from inside yourself
You cannot fly until you break the shell
05.10.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Soil poetics by Björn Rudberg (brudberg).
May is here and at least in Sweden it’s when we finally have spring. This is when all the strength of soil and seed spring forth. Every day is just another shade of green.
Today I want you to write poetry about soil. To me soil is both the source of life, and destiny for death. Soil is where we come from and soil you’ll be.
dverse

Between My Bleeding Lines’ Readers: Mandibelle

Peripheral Madness

Sight I think is amazing for what could,

We see without vision, eyes to perceive?

The world around us is intricate, complex,

So our eyes make sense of the colours, shade —

Tints, tones, complementary colours, those —

In the same family, yet inside were sightless.

Gazing beyond sight, gazing within, without. 

——-

It’s fascinating to think how each of —

Us sees the same thing differently; by —

Sight and experience — the image changes.

All see such varied pictures notice where,

The colours blur, wind; how they can deceive us.

How red, green, purple, blue, orange and yellow,

Mix together, painterly dragons fly.

Optical illusions nearly missed disguised.

Gazing beyond sight, gazing within, without. 

——-

Blended carefully the animals come —

To life; birds, unicorns, oxen, and some,

Mythical creatures, pale faces turned down.

See not only within the painting see —

Inside your heart, for the truth sits there,

Ignore the blindness, learn to fathom more.

Gazing beyond sight, gazing within, without. 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.


Mandi writes flawlessly. Her words flow with eloquence and meaning. You can also learn tough and intricate poetic forms through her writings and she can make it appear easy.

When i shared to him my book, it is heart warming how she willingly gave her feedback and suggestions which helped me a lot.

(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.)

Last Echo

she got the final note
on her last day
on earth.
she went out
with a book on hand
and let the last echo
of her heart
lead her between
the mountain, the sky
where her song is heard,
where her name is whispered.

P.S. Written with India Arie’s India Song playing. ❤
I wanna go where the mountains are high enough to echo my song
I wanna go where the rivers run deep enough to drown my shame
I wanna go where the stars shine bright enough to show me the way
I wanna go where the wind calls my name

05.09.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Quadrille #32 by whimsygizmo
Let’s dance with some shadows today, my poetical peeps. This is De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo, and it’s Quadrille Monday here at the bar – when we write a poem of exactly 44 words (not including title), and include one given word.
Today, I want you to play with the word: echo.
dverse

Between My Bleeding Lines’ Readers: NJ

Dear Bravery

Dear Bravery,

Why do you hide? Do not be afraid of me. Me being around is not necessarily a bad thing. I am good at times and needed too. But if you hide and disappear and vanish into the darkness, the humans we reside in will see no light. They will forever be a friend of the darkness. You need to show up with your friend courage and help the humans move forward. Take them through it all slowly and help them in times of their need. You see, I am not permanent. But I could be, if the humans allow me to. Do not let them. Do not let them make me a permanent home in their beings. If I do, then I will live in them forever and that’s not good. They need you more than they need me. So, please, do not hide.

Love,
Fear.

©NJ


NJ is the epitome of so much in so few and there is nothing more beautiful than raw. She writes poetry with brevity and depth. But when she writes long poems, you cannot help but be lost on how her words cascade. (please do check her out). Her feedback on my book means so much to me as she is one of my fave writers too. 🌹
Thank you for the looove, sweetie. ❤

(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.)

Between My Bleeding Lines’ Readers: Jade M. Wong

An Elegy For Them

thomas-griesbeck-149034

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.)

Between My Bleeding Lines’ Readers: Maria of Doodles and Scribbles

I Surrounded Myself With Emptiness

empty-reylia-1200

I surround myself with emptiness:
an empty jar that was once
filled with the sweetest jam
an hourglass whose sands
of time were blown by the wind
a light bulb— unable to shine
with its filaments gone
a wine glass that I sleep with
till my waking days

Call this madness or a hint of desperation
Curse this bed of despair from which I lie
But I surround myself with emptiness
So I can simply forget about mine

© 2017 Maria. All Rights Reserved.
Photograph is Reylia Slaby’s latest work entitled, I Surround Myself With Emptiness.


MEET BETWEEN MY BLEEDING LINES’ BETA-READERS: @mariawenttotown15 of @doodlescribbles | Doodles & Scribbles

My dearie Maria have seen the most raw version of my book and she gave me a lot of helpful insights. As a fellow Filipina, I cannot say enough how amazing she is.
Please do check her out.

(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.)

Bus and Break

the rushing wind kisses my cheeks as i keep the bus’ window open. we are zigzagging and zooming because 6 in the morning is synonymous to a free-flowing highway. no traffic. no accidents (yet). as my eyes stare at the birthing of yet another sun, my ears is swimming on a familiar tune. a tune the heart needs as morning booster and as a balm to yesterday’s hurt. feet tap tap. fingers tap tap. you’re not breaking me.

a summer-like song
for a winter-frozen heart.
i will beat again.

P.S.
So the song I was talking about in this piece is Unbreakable Smile by Tori Kelly.
La da da da dee, you’re not breaking me
La de da da da, ain’t got time for ya, singing
La da da da dee, you won’t shatter me
La de da da da, got an unbreakable smile
P.P.S. And because I don’t drive I realistically describe a day on a bus. 🙂
05.03.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse‘s Haibun Monday: Tramps like us were born to survive… by kanzensakura.
Today, I’d like you to write about singing along with your music and driving.  Off on a trip, off on vacation, soothing yourself and just driving at night, driving out your anger or your grief, shared a few songs with a friend?
dverse

Come In

more often than not,
i find myself tucked
in between
crumpled sheets
of bed
and book
inside a well-lit
room,
with a cuppa
black and hot
coffee
on the side,
paired with a blank
page
waiting, expecting
for the sudden flow of
ink,
as i breathe in
and out
words.

come in,
join my community
of letters,
commas,
periods,
lines,
and rhymes.

with words, we are never alone.

04.26.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse‘s Community by paul scribbles.
Today, write us a postcard poem.
Hello everyone, this is Paul welcoming you to the bar on my first night as an ‘official’ member of the team.
Thank You All for affording me such a warm invitation into this community of poets.
I am honored and humbled in equal measure.
So it is with no surprise then that my first official bar prompt for this Tuesday Poetics night is to be ‘Community.’

dverse