I write because I read. I read because I write.
Bombs, blasting or inhaled. Lives, culprits or innocent. Leaders, liars or prophets. World, what happened? — 03.23.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash In response to Blogging from A to Z Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2018. N is for Naani. The Naani is a stanzaic form found at Shadow Poetry and is most often an observation of human relations… Continue reading what happened? (a naani)
More shots fired, bang! bang! Another mug overflowed with blood, blood. Blood from veins of the innocents. Veins pulsing, asking, why oh why, again? Till when, oh please, till when? Who turned on the faucet of this intoxicating hate? How many pills of love, should the orphaned earth take to end this bloody hangover? —… Continue reading B l o o d y H a n g o v e r
splat! goes the blood and some threads of bleeding muscles from his back to the waiting concrete wall. bang! goes the bullet as cold as the heart who pulled the trigger to put the 17-year-old to his final, breathless sleep. no more! goes some mouths to condemn the brutal purging and killing and planting of… Continue reading foggy borders
boom! crumbles the church the city prayed. bang! rings the house of an old friend. boom! explodes a truck, bodies sprayed. bang! runs peace, hope, in a rushed parade. between the booms, bangs i plead above let this bad dream be cursed and damned. — This is a fictional poem inspired by the still unending… Continue reading booms and bangs
Mourn. For all souls lost. Either shot or blown apart, either criminal or civilian, either innocent or terrorist, 'cause they’re all humans. Mourn. For all lives altered by war. Children who grow old without parents. Parents who buried their own child. Fiancee who was not able to say ‘I do’. Soldiers who were not able… Continue reading Plea to Mourn
We are the game birds. Violence are our hunters. Guns and armaments, deliver brute, bloody deaths. Men love killing each other. — ©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. In response to Elsie of Ramblings of a Writer's Weekly Tanka Prompt Challenge – Week 11 – Game Birds. If you want to join, here are the simple rules: Take… Continue reading Game Birds’ Hunters
I cannot let him reach me. I cannot. So I ran, ran as if my life depends on it. Oh yes, my life depends on how fast my legs are. Climbing every step away from him. My legs ached. My feet hurt. But I didn’t stop. Run. Run. Run. Faster. Suddenly I bumped into a… Continue reading Deadly Fall
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