what happened? (a naani)

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 or current events although it can be open to any subject. Naani means “an expression of one and all”. The stanza form was introduced by Dr. N. Gopi an administrator at the Teluga University.
The Naani are:
  1. stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains.
  2. syllabic, with a total syllable count of between 20 and 25 syllables.

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B l o o d y H a n g o v e r

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?

Author’s Note: The prompt today was about “drinking”. And because I don’t drink (alcoholic drinks, or even wines, never had, never will :D), these lines leaked just like that.

For the lives ended by war, violence, depression, hate, this is my futile attempt to write an elegy for you.

Guns don’t kill people. People kill people. It’s one sad truth we witness every single day.

02.21.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse This one’s on me.
dverse

foggy borders

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
fired-guns and drugs
to the hands
none can know if
innocent or not.

i now wonder
where is the
foggy border
between justice
and injustice,
instant law and
due process?

maybe the
monsoon shower
will soon wash away
the kiss of blood
on that cold wall,
maybe our minds
are also fogged
by the mist of
hazy judgments
as we silently ask:
“can these killings
save us all?”

Some thoughts after another brutal killing, part of the Philippine government’s war on drugs. Sigh. Sigh.
08.23.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Neven Krcmarek on Unsplash

In response to Poetics: Border by Grace
My prompt today is about border, that line separating two political or geographical areas, especially countries, or the outer part or edge. More than the physcial boundaries, there are borders which are invisible, such as an imaginary, social or mental borders. These kind of borders are more challening to overcome, don’t you agree?
dverse

booms and bangs

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 war in Marawi, the only Islamic city in the Philippines. I can never fathom the reasons of these groups in killing not just lives but the hopes, the future of the children left clueless and helpless in the middle of this war. May peace blossom again in this corner of my country.

08.15.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to Quadrille #38 by whimsygizmo.

Today, I want us to DREAM together.

Plea to Mourn

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 to know what’s true.

Mourn.

Because mourning makes you care,
because mourning makes you realize,
that peace is really a must.

Mourn.

Because war is not a problem
solved by guns and bombs.
Because peace can only be achieved,
by no one else, but us.

Please, mourn.

01.28.2016
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit:Unsplash
Inspired by Maria’s fictional story ‘The Vow‘ and Christopher poem ‘Microsmic Murder‘.

Game Birds’ Hunters

640px-common_pheasant_hybride

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 the two words “Game Birds” and write a Tanka Poem.

  • Tanka consists of five units, usually with the following pattern of    5-7-5-7-7 which is syllables.

Deadly Fall

5

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 solid dark mass. I fell hard against the wooden floor then the low light revealed him, the man with a lustful grin.  I slowly, slowly crawled away while he carefully walk towards me.

No. I have no choice left.

One swift pained move, I stood, run fast, then  jumped into a deadly fall.  Face first, I fell not on hell but on my bed’s edge. He’s long gone but he still haunts me every dawn.

Word count: 130
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Joy Pixley

In response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) September 20, 2016.

Rules:

  • a flash fiction challenge (stories in 100-175 words or less)
  • each story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end
  • no serial (continuation) stories
  • include a pingback to the challenge post

Thank you for hosting this awesome prompt, Priceless Joy! ❤ 

Read more short stories here: