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.

—

03.20.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

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

City’s Chaos

My ears hate the scandalous honking cars and buses. My eyes are hurt by the sight of children sleeping beside roads and under bridges. My nose are irate with the stinky smell of cigarette and engine smoke. My tongue can taste the bitterness this city’s chaos spoke. Yet my skin can feel the powerful tingle of my dream-burning bones.

Hellish oh surely,
for dreamers it’s heavenly.
Work hard, play harder.

—

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

Photo credit: Unsplash

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In response to dVerse‘s Haibun Monday #23 – contemporary cityscape by Björn Rudberg (brudberg) who wrote Cityscape Anatomy.

The Colours of the Flag

Surrounded by bright almost blinding camera flashes, carpet as red as fresh human blood, bodies in ensemble more expensive than my house, I felt overwhelmed and lost at the same time.

I am an indie actress with a promising film nominated in Cannes Film Festival. This is big. Bigger than my dreams as a kid.

As the world waits for the show to start, my eyes widely surveys the festive scene. Then I saw the blue, the yellow and the red drinks— the colours of my country’s flag.

They took me home. Away from the limelight and shimmering cinematic sight. Near my beloved yet almost hungry-all-the-time children. 

If only my eyes can swallow all they see, I will take them all and free my children from the prison called poverty.

—

Word count: 130

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

Photo credit: Sunday Photo Fiction

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NOTE: The three wine glasses have the colours of my country’s flag. 🙂

In response to Sunday Photo Fiction for May 22, 2016.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

Enjoy more awesome stories here:

The Predator

Like a predator waiting for a prey, I let myself be lost in this dark and mute cloak-like hole behind the thick brick wall.

She’s coming, soon.

With eyes focused in my treasured black bag, which has been ‘mine’ since I was twelve, I tried to silence my growling stomach. My heartbeat races, my mouth’s juice leaks as I sniff her scent –  grilled seafood, maybe fish, (this is new) and the usual bitter coffee breath.

She’s near.

My sharp ears excitedly anticipates the usual crumpling noise followed by slingshot-like wind whip.

Shoot!

Her restaurant aroma fades.

My dinner is served.

—

Word count: 100 words

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

Photo credit: Emmy L. Gant

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In response to Friday Fictioneers prompt for 11 March 2016.

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly writing challenge hosted by the generous Fairy Blog-Mother Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction.

Read more great 100-word short stories here: