getting there: a senryu for TLT

Dusting gun powders,
digging buried bomb shrapnels,
dark road of hate clears.

12.28.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Manu Sanchez via Unsplash

In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week 100!!! (Oh how I miss three-lining! 😀
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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.

Handmade Bridge

New Beginnings by Ally Saunders

Take my hand and theirs
regardless of religion or race.
We are all earth’s only heirs
with limited time and space.

Let’s make a burning bridge
made of united hands and hearts
to cross and conquer the sea of hate
killing humanity and love.

01.31.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Painting by Ally Saunders available at her website.

In response to dVerse‘s Poetics: Ally Saunders – A Closer Look by Mish.
Fellow dVerse Poets, your prompt today is to take a closer look at Alley’s collection featured within the post OR from her website. Look within yourself, find your own interpretation and write a poem. When using an image of Ally’s work, please remember to credit it properly with her name and a link to her website, allyart.ca

dverse

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‘.

Tattooed and Tattered

Rugged hands inked with brave symbols—
dark icons that make innocent heart trembles.
None knows they hide war’s one broken, tattered soul.

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

Photo credit: Alex Hockett


In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week Thirty-One.

If you want to join, here are the simple rules:

  • Write three lines inspired by the photo prompt.
  • Link back to this post.
  • Tag your post with 3LineTales (so we can find you in the Reader).
  • Read and comment on other TLT participants’ lines.
  • Have fun.

The Heart You Left

The Heart You Left

Our children, our great grandchildren, and our great great grand-kids wanted to have a big centenarian birthday bash for me. I refused. I am too old for a party. I can’t even do jiggly jives any more. All I want for my 100th birthday is to be with you. That’s why we’re all here.

While our children’s eyes admire the grandiose Dôme des Invalides’ ceiling, I slowly closed mine and let my soul feel the dead heart you left— interred inside the vaults of Les Invades.

Time was not able to take my pain away. I still long for your body, your probably-mutilated-body left undiscovered. Most of all, I still wish your heart is still beating with mine today.

Word count: 120

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

Photo credit: TJ Paris


NOTE: This is a work of fiction inspired by a non-fiction detail. There are real tombs and vaults in Les Invalides. While the most notable is Napoleon Bonaparte’s remain, there are French soldiers, now considered military heroes, whose only their hearts’ remains lie inside Les Invalides’ vaults.

In response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) May 24, 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 the breathtaking prompt, Priceless Joy! ❤ 

Read more short stories here:

Love-Sealed Letters

Love-Sealed Letters

War took you from my arms to battle field,
you remained through your letters kiss-and-love-sealed,
until they stopped arriving.

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

Photo credit: Kirsty TG 


In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week Sixteen.

If you want to join, here are the simple rules:

  • Write three lines inspired by the photo prompt.
  • Link back to this post.
  • Tag your post with 3LineTales (so we can find you in the Reader).
  • Read and comment on other TLT participants’ lines.
  • Have fun.

Final Photo

There’s something missing.

After a slow thorough scan of our almost-two-decade house—“Mom!!!”

The last photo dad has captured before he turned into unrecognisable pieces, is missing! I grew old admiring that heartfelt, solitary moment between the soldier and his dog. Now it’s missing!

“What happened!?”

“Dad’s final shot is missing, Mom!!!”

“No, son. It isn’t. I took it down.”

“What? Why? I tho—.”

I’m too confused to think and speak, while my ageing mom looks so close to tears.

“You’re only two when your dad left for the war. He snapped that photo seconds before the soldier and the dog was blown apart. He actually… survived.  But… he never came back. He looked for the soldier’s widow, found her, fall for her. He left us, to be with her.”

Word count: 130

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

Photo credit: Pixabay


In response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) March 15, 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 a beautiful prompt, Priceless Joy!

Read more short stories here:

Two Wives

Five decades after the war, I am now here to do your final request.

It was never your intention to release those bombs. Chief said no one will be killed. But a week after you did your first mission, you read more than a thousand lives were shattered.

It haunted you.

Just five months after you quit, you bombed your own brains.

On your behalf, I ask for forgiveness to the souls you killed. I hope you are now forgiven, dear.

***

It was a normal day when the big black balls came. Kaboom here, kaboom there. Blood here, cadavers there.

It signalled the start of the second world war.

Looking at these canyons responsible for my husband’s death, I searched for anger. Anger for the soldier who launched the bombs.

But after fifty years, I found none.

Whoever soldier killed my love and a thousand more lives, you are forgiven.

Word count: 150

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

Photo credit: Sunday Photo Fiction


In response to Sunday Photo Fiction for February 28, 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:

Plea to Mourn

Mourn.

For all souls lost.

Either shot or blown apart,

either criminal or civialian,

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 surely 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.

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

Photo credit: Christian Daily


This poem was inspired by Maria’s fictional story ‘The Vow‘ and Christopher poem ‘Microsmic Murder‘.

~