love in the time of coronavirus

Our love in the time of coronavirus is thousands of miles away, my tourist visa got cancelled before it sees the light of another Indian day, his feet are planted, prohibited to fly to Malaysia’s sky, because it is safer that way, in the end, perhaps, nation gates are needed to be locked to keep […]

counting poems before and after him

thousand poems have i written ‘fore fate allowed me to meet him, oh, how in hush heart- beats, low key hums, dearness draws near me towards him, oh, how my shy muse sings hymns, so sweetly since i knew him, oh, how rhymes roll off in rivulets, thousands and more poems now for him. — […]

sareureuk

I heard the hushed melting of the last flake of winter on the drying road bathed with the first infant rays of spring, I felt the spinning earth waited a bit, I saw a second lasted more than a minute, when you smiled at me for the first time. r. c. gonzales – roy | […]

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 […]

t w o w o r l d s

Find me in silent corners where the horizon’s mouth swallows another burning ball, licks the cool sky in pastel blush in front of all. Find me in soft, tender nighttime blanket, sipping a the third cup of my daily coffee haul. Find me inside the chosen shell of solitude where thoughts are slowly eaten, gingerly […]

postal code stamps

Our tongues are dancing muscles sprinkled with the magic dust of languages, as if before birth we’re treated on a buffet of diverse dialects and accents where we select how our mouths will circle and arch to utter each twisted word’s lyrical march, but pause and place your vein-hand in the middle of your breasts, […]

e x c h a n g e g i f t

Words are the gifts I have always wanted for myself. They are my bars of chocolates, my calorie-free slices of cheesecake. My words is the gift I can give to the world. Carefully wrapped in thin papers of prayer — stamped with a wish that they reach the soul who needed them the most even […]

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 […]

a c r o n y m

Watch her arch her burdened back, Open her bruised arms, far and wide, Murmur tearful yet grateful chants, As she inhales hate and breathe out Nothing, oh nothing, but love. — 03.08.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash For dVerse OpenLinkNight #238  

A Look Back to Move Forward

It’s almost two in the morning, I am supposed to be sleeping, probably paddling through the river of dreams this night has to offer. My eyes are sleepy, my body at less than 5% of mortal battery, still I get up, still I write. The soul would never let this wee hours — when the […]