Spaceless

Writing starts in your heart, proceeds in your mind and ends in your hands. – rosemawrites


A writer without a laptop
will still be able to write.
As long as there are words
that can either bite or delight.

Whenever, wherever
no one can block.
A heart, mind and hand
with ideas that can’t be stocked.

Because no space is needed
once ideas are seeded.
And no clutter will matter
to a true-blue writer.

09.14.2015
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit: Unsplash

Seconds by Sheridan Johnson: A Reblog

NOTE: Seconds was ORIGINALLY written by Sheridan Johnson and originally posted in her wonderful blog Journey with the Johnsons last December 09, 2015. All copyright belongs to her.

Close your eyes and imagine

how many seconds are in 24 hours.

How many seconds that you have,

each and every given day.

What if I told you that you have

exactly 86,400 seconds, in one day?

Would that somehow change your perspective?

Or make you somehow question yourself

as to why you have wasted so much of it?

So many of us are always wanting more time.

More time to spend with our loved ones,

more time to spend at the gym,

or just simply wanting more time

in the morning to get ready for work.

Now open your eyes.

If you could spend 86,400 seconds

doing whatever you wanted to do,

how would you spend it?


DAY 9 of 50 Days of Gratefulness

Today I am grateful for the wonderful responses for my ‘Seconds’ prompt for Writing 101’s Day 04.

I have read a lot of wonderful poems, kudos classmates, but this one’s my favorite.

It is because my main goal for the prompt is for me, for us, to realize how important seconds are. And I believe Sheridan conveyed it wonderfully and powerfully. 🙂

~

Bullied

They say I’m fat,

oh, I don’t do weight’s math.

Yes, I don’t care!

They say my nose’s flat,

oh, and I have bulky butt!

Hell, I don’t care!

They say my face’s ugly,

oh, yes I’m not pretty.

Hell, I don’t care!

Reading these words,

of fake and fallacy,

I cried.

Yes, I do care.

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Journey into the Spectrum


Day 6: Fallacy By @jdoublep

Unsound arguments. Failures of reason.

Today, let’s write poems that are wholly illogical.
Let’s see how miserably we can get reason to fail; both our reason and the reason that guides our readers.

P.S.

I am not sure if I got this one, right?

Would love to hear your thoughts, Jason.

Thanks!

~

Seasons: Epilogue

Note: This is the ‘not-planned’ fourth and last (promise) part of my short fiction series “Seasons”. Please do read the first, second and third parts for better reading experience. 🙂

This epilogue is also inspired by ‘Breathe Again’ a song by Sara Bareilles. You can listen to it here.

Warm wind’s blowing. Loud silence’s piercing. With blank mind and an about-to-burst heart, I remained still as I look at your grave.

Our story ended, more than five years ago. On that fateful autumn, when I waited for you. But you never waited for me.

I admit. I am in denial, for five years. I never visited that bench, I never stepped my feet on that park, not until…

I almost died.

And you came to fetch me, or my soul, or whatever I am on that moment.

I almost said yes. Yes, I want to die then and there with you. I want to be with you. I want to feel your lips again. I want to badly feel your love again.

With broken ribs, fractured arm, and almost cracked skull, who would know I will not die?

It’s a miracle, some says. But for me, my miracle happened six months after I was back to life.

It happened when I cannot move. It happened when I can’t even eat. It happened when I can’t even do anything. It happened when I realized that this is how it feels to die.

It happened when I realized that I want to live again.

Live as in live, not live like a breathing zombie that I was for so many years.

I still… miss you… my love.

I still… want to… be with you.

But I guess…

it’s now time…

for me…

to breathe,

again.

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Unsplash


 

DAY 7 of 50 Days of Gratefulness

Today I am grateful for the entire Blogging University’s WRITING 101 team especially Cheri and Ben.

Like what I have said before, A Reading Writer has been a way better blog since I joined Writing 101 and Writing 201. My creative juices are now free flowing because of the prompts that you have shared to me and the rest of my classmates. 🙂

So thank you!

P.S.

Tagging some of my awesome classmates turned friends who might love to read this:

Of course your first, Fun Simplicity. 😀 Then my dear Annie, Jacq, Arpita, Book Lover Circumspect, Arianna, Nadine and Kathy.

~

 

Free Flow

Creative juices

flowing

outpouring

unceasing

unyielding.

I want to ask

how

why

what

when and

where.

But I stop.

‘Cause I

don’t

even

care.

So,

go flow

go show

don’t slow.

——

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Superb Wallpapers


Day 5: Freedom by Impossiblebebong

Freedom is a fundamental need. It is so powerful that nations go to war for it. People engage in both despicable and heroic deeds to gain it. In the name of freedom we suffer, make sacrifices, and attempt to perform miracles. For freedom we are willing to lose everything and risk our lives, since no life really is one without freedom.

What freedom means is open to interpretation, which is why it’s been a recurring subject in art. In today’s poem, share your take on freedom. While you’re at it, be fearless with your thoughts. Don’t hold back. Unleash your emotions and be honest with yourself. Uncensored writing coming from the heart often produces the most amazing read.

P.S.

Thank you for a thought provoking prompt, @impossiblebebong.

Knowing you in W101 course has been a delight!

~

Hidden Seconds

Sitting still

in a steel stool,

she begs, weeps

for one more second.

Endearing,

exquisite enchanter,

ends first cry on

her life’s first second.

Captured candid

cheesy charade,

changed by sudden

death in a second.

Old oak observes

ordeals, orbits of

earth’s occupants’

every second’s beat.

Nervous nerves

never needed,

not in a stage

she owns for one second.

Dream desired

delivers disappointment

deserves encouragement

for just one more second.

Sorry, seconds could

not be stolen, saved so

snag, snap, smack

sing, spin, swing,

stay…

every single second.

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Magic4walls


In response to Writing 101:

Day 4: Seconds by @rosemawrites 

(Yep that’s me! :D)

A new life sees the world for the first time. Simultaneously, another life takes its final breath.

A passenger that was supposed to board a plane was one second late. Hours later, the plane went missing, the passenger saved.

Unimportant as it may seem, a split second can change our lives in ways we can never imagine. So today, write about the basic unit of time, seconds. Reflect on those few seconds when a loved one was in a life-and-death situation. Relive the few seconds when you held your eldest child for the first time. Recount those seconds when you were waiting for big news that was about to change your life.

~

Falling: Writing 101, Day 3

I-Was-Falling-High

slowly drifting

silently sinking

gradually calming

million cells shouting

welcoming blackness

embracing blankness

letting mind rest

leaving world’s mess

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Link


In response to Writing 101:

Day 3: Sleep by Rohit Pandey

Sleep: a world where our thoughts rule.

A place where reality is overshadowed by dreams.

A time when we transport our soul from the real world to the virtual.

For some, the hours we spend asleep, alone and in peace, are the best of the entire day; for others, whether haunted by nightmares or unable to fall asleep in the first place, not so much.

It’s time to think deeply about sleep. Dive into the pool of night and let whatever it is you find there take poetic form.

P.S.

Hey @rohitofficial!

This prompt calmed me! Yay!

Thank you!

~

Reflected Answer: Writing 101, Day 2

Photography Wallpaper New Collection

Have I made the right decision

to quit my former job?

When articles, tasks, welcomed me like a mob.

Have I made the right choice

to become a writer?

When my brain cells sometimes falter?

Have I made the right turn

to pursue my dreams?

When the reality is not always what it seems.

Seeing myself against

the black desktop screen

With eyes and brain all tensed

but a heart full of preen.

Yes, I guess,

the answer is seen.

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Rayuna


In response to Writing 101:

Day 2: Reflections by @mkucsera

On water, in puddles, in glass, in mirrors – reflections can clarify, blur reality, or fracture it altogether. They can serve up surreal images or a perspective that’s unexpected. Whether it’s street light-reflected raindrops or the sky distorted in a half-melted patch of ice, reflections are nature’s funhouse mirrors.

Reflections are not limited to non-living objects. Our bodies reflect our internal health and our clothes reflect our lifestyle. We also reflect internally upon our world, our physical state, or on ideas bouncing around inside our skulls.

Clear or distorted, in your poem today tell us something about the reflections you see — in the world or in yourself.

P.S.

Hey, Mel! Thank you so much for a very thought provoking prompt, 🙂

You made me reflect about the biggest decision that I made this year, and you made me realize that I, indeed, made the right decision.

Thank you!

~

Classic Magic: Writing 101, Day 1

When your happy

with a job that isn’t worthy

It’s magic.

When your content

with a life without your consent

It’s magic.

When you wake up

and each morning’s a triumph

It’s magic.

When you love

and you’re loved back

It’s magic.

Yes, I guess,

every day’s a magic,

of the greatest magician, that’s classic.

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Bargain Moose


In response to Writing 101:

Day 1: Magic by @laduchessederat

It’s the end of the year. Nature is already entering its revolution phase: hibernation in the Northern Hemisphere, burning heat in the Southern. It’s the magic of life. Like Mother Nature, you too can give your life a new beginning. What magic have you accomplished in the past year? Be it small or grand, it’s worth celebrating in a poem!

P.S.

This is a great opener, Laduchessederat!

I hope I give your awesome prompt justice! ❤

Mirror: Vignettes for Writing 101

I’m an audience for decades now and no one knows I’m watching.

1945

“Ssshhh,” I whispered to myself.

Hiding behind my wooden closet across my huge mirror, trembling with fear, I am finding it hard to breathe.

“Please, Lord, don’t let them see me, please, oh please.”

 

2015

“You’re such a beautiful lass,” I giddily tell myself as I stand in front of my antique mirror.

I’m finding it hard to apply my eyeliner. Argh! Why can’t I control my nerves?

Yep. I’m too excited, for him to see me.

 

1945

Blood. My toe is surely bleeding now.

I tried to go out quick and get a bandage.

I am almost near across the mirror, when I heard loud footsteps. They’re coming.

 

2015

One hour. That’s how long, or maybe how short, our first date was.

I can’t remember the details but it was great! Because I invited him here at my room!

As I sneak a look at his handsome face reflected in my mirror, I know my decision is right.

 

1945

I tried to be as small as I can be. I tried to stop any noise from me, even my own ragged breathing.

But I can hear the soldiers’ voices, in foreign language, go louder as they come near me.

I want to take a peek at the mirror again. But I stopped myself.

 

2015

I know it’s too late now to be such a conservative lady.

It’s already 2015, so it’s no big deal. This is love at first sight, indeed.

How did I know? Well, he just wrote ‘I love you’ in my mirror!

 

1945

I almost jumped when someone grabbed me.

Now he’s dragging me towards my bed as his two comrades cheer him up.

I screamed, to no avail.

I look at myself in the mirror, as he lay me down on my own bed.

I am seeing myself, for the last time.

 

2015

I know I almost planned for this but I am still somehow surprised when he started kissing me.

His lips are now invading mine, I like it at first but… I’m feeling a bit uneasy now.

I tried to push him away as he tries to lay me down.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said as I try to stop him. “No!” he shouted.

My eyes went wide, as through my mirror I see him pull out a pocket knife.

—-

©2015 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Tumblr


In response to Writing 101:

Day 18: Compose a series of anecdotes

Today, tell a story through a series of anecdotes (also called vignettes): short, episodic scenes or moments that together read as variations on the same theme. They can each be as short or long as you see fit — they don’t have to be the same length — but they need a common feature to tie them together, whether it’s a repeated phrase, a similar setting, a literary device, or the appearance of the same person.