of bushes and spilt seeds

and so we thought we are just writing a silly tale of the blue bloom and the honey-hungry bee and so we I mean I wrote with sprinkled dusts of jealousy while you vowed to love me the flower only and so we let the days fall like leaves of autumn so bloody until December… Continue reading of bushes and spilt seeds

army of elements

Naked eyes’re powerless for they are invisible, smaller than dust, no less. Creepy crawlers, void of tiny legs, bursting from vein to vein inside a mortal, muscled-keg. A minuscule army of Platinum, Fluorine, Arsenic, Boron haunting for the invading “C”. With a fatal glow, ‘nother option is the clear-cut missile of Cobalt-60 and Nickel-60. Both… Continue reading army of elements

earth’s striptease: a haiku

asphalt road in white, absent leaves, abandoned twigs, fresh year undresses. — 12.16.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash — For Frank's #Haikai Challenge #117 (12/14/19): Midwinter (mafuyu)/Midsummer (manastu) #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga My upcoming book, Poems for S is up for pre-order. See it here: https://amzn.to/2CSrGAU .

the echoes you left

bed without bodies pillows without tresses, doors only for exit piano void of music, new bulb void of light, lenses with no sight, heart without art, lifetime without life, emp---ty emp---ty emp---ty emp---ty emp---ty the song of me after our we. — 12.12.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash — For… Continue reading the echoes you left

questions for soles who crave to walk on eggshells: a quadrille

cr-cr-cr-crack one corner after another, tip-tip-toe carefully, on top of crumbling eggshells. is it, is it a triumph to walk his crushed carpet of survival? w-w-why do we choose to create home inside crevices so fragile? is it called saving? or is it suicidal? — 11.19.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via… Continue reading questions for soles who crave to walk on eggshells: a quadrille

evening snake

Where is my home? Outside, the evening snake is lit, on right it's filled with patches of white, on left it's a strawberry jam of red. Wait, perhaps, it's not a snake, it is but, a curved paved skin of earth, where tiny, tiny, earthlings who think they own the world, are scrambling inside their… Continue reading evening snake

last leaf

cheers for choked up tears, cries without list'ning ears. cheers for wistful dreams caught or lost in raging streams. cheers for days of cavalier where lone strength perseveres, cheers for named fears fin'lly found courage sears, cheers for 'nother year, lost hope grows, reappears. — 12.04.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via… Continue reading last leaf

holy flair

Once upon a blue blood moon the mighty Kanchenjunga said hello, too soon. Over 7,000 feet above the earth's conquering sea, before the final farewell of 2018's only January, the midnight sky made way to let the snow-clothed peak take a silent peek to two pairs of eyes waiting, freezing in almost zero air, yet… Continue reading holy flair

fogged up

While the roof sings to the tune of the monsoon keys, the leaves outside dance with the storm's cold breeze, with a warm, fresh cup of coffee, my eyes stare blankly at the road void of wheels and feet— empty— wishing I can say the same with my mind. The antonym of empty is full… Continue reading fogged up

s a n c t u a r y

Clothed pair of soles dressed in faux leather top and synthetic rubber pants, clanking, clanking, against the cobbled, sometimes cemented concrete jungle paths, dreams to be bare and naked against the foliage of the fallen petals of Autumn trees, ready and brave to be pricked with the crisp and thin sun-dried twigs, for the slave… Continue reading s a n c t u a r y