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 feet of the city
yearns to be the lost queen
of the wild—

the sanctuary
of the soul’s respite.

05.02.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Let’s Get Wild!
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bosom (a conachlonn)

Pain swells in the bosom of a song.
Long before the first note of refrain,
restrains fail to cease tears from falling.
Losing you, I wish will be my gain.

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.
C is for Conachlonn.
The Conachlonn is simply the Irish version of chained verse, examples found at Celtia.
The elements of the Conachlonn are:
  1. written in any number of lines.
  2. syllabic at the poet’s discretion, often 8 or 9 syllable lines
  3. assonant chained rhymed, meaning the vowel sound of the last syllable of the line is repeated at the beginning of the next line.
  4. written with dunadh, the beginning syllable ends the poem.

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tick tock (a butterfly cinquain)

It takes
many tick tocks
before your wings open,
to taste its first lick of earth’s wind
before
your lightweight feathers kiss earth’s breeze
While the clock is singing
learn patience in
waiting.

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.
B is for Butterfly Cinquain.
Butterfly Cinquain isn’t a cinquain at all:it is a nonostich (9 lines)and uses the syllable count of the Crapsey Cinquain and then reverses it, therefore the misnomer.  The elements of the Butterfly Cinquain are:
  1. 9 line poem.
  2. syllabic, 2-4-6-8-2-8-6-4-2 syllables per line.
  3. unrhymed.

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hatch

egg out of
your hard-outside,
fragile-inside,
self-made
shell of hate,

hardened by
society’s caging
cruel words
of unbelief.
crack the

calcium carbonate
crystal, with
each drumming of
your tired yet

unrelenting heart,
create a freeing hole
of hope. welcome
the sunrays of faith.

hatch.

03.27.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Quadrille #53 – Egg

#NaPoWriMo and #AtoZChallenge

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Happy Monday, everyone! I’m thrilled to announce that I just registered to NaPoWriMo 2018 via http://www.napowrimo.net/ ! 😀

I did NaPoWriMo successfully last 2016 and I’m excited for this year because… I’m doing #NaPoWriMo with Blogging from A to Z Challenge (I did this first last 2016, too!)!

 

So what do I mean? I’ll have 26 poetry form, one form per letter. (For example, A is for Aubade, B is for Bop…)

And I’ll be more than happy if you’ll come and join me! 😀

I’ll be posting the forms soonest! 😉

Cheers for a poetry-filled April, poets and friends!

my sun

My love affair with words and rhymes started when I was a kid. I used to win slogan making contests, I used to sing songs with rhyming lyrics. Then I came across William Wordsworth’s “Daffodils”— the first seed of poetry planted inside me. Though my writing heart like Wordsworth’s cloud, wandered far and long. Aside from love notes in rhyming stanzas, I don’t really know much about poems. Then in 2015, I stumbled upon WordPress Poetry 101. With skilled and experienced poets I felt like a child on her first day in kindergarten. Clueless. Intimidated. Yet, deep inside determined.

After a few tries with rhymes and forms, the first haiku, the first sonnet, the first tanka, and then more free verses, I found the rhythm of my pen. Slowly, I befriended the beating ink flowing inside me, ever since. I found my soul’s oxygen. I started breathing again.

Here comes summer rays,
parting the veil of winter.
Poetry, my sun.

03.20.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Haibun Monday: Who? What? Why?

bone and brain

Unbreakable bone
walled with
collagen and calcium,
ounce for ounce is
stronger than
a bar of steel.

Soft yet complex brain
tangled with
circuits of neurons
and nerves, byte per byte is
better than
a super computer.

Your anatomy is divine.
You’re not a super hero.
You’re a super human.

03.14.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Super me! (as in the verb)

P a s s a g e

The fading light, this old day done,
the endless sea swallows yet another sun.
As moon rises high over waters calm –
calling out stars hiding in the velvet night’s arms –
morning’s close by with a brand new dawn.

01.18.2017
F.T. Ledrew x R. C. Gonzales

(Thank you for the second collab, Thomas! ;))

All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

 

Endings and Beginnings (2017 Edition)

Oh, what a rollercoaster you have been, 2017?

The leaves of this year’s calendar is all but gone. With Sara Bareilles “December” playing on my background, with the lyrics:

Distill a whole year down into a day
Act like we all start over with a pristine slate
But to get yourself a new life you’ve got to give the other one away
And I’m starting to believe in the power of a name
‘Cause it can’t be a mistake if I just call it change

let me try to write about this crazy year and what I hope for the next.

The text cursor keeps on blinking, my mind keeps on trying to find the beginning of this post. Where should I start?

So… January 2017 I turned 25 (which I kind of talked about in this poem). It is like 1/3-life-crisis as I remember asking myself, “What have you done? What have you finished? What have you created that you should be proud of?”

It’s a crazy state of asking questions no one can actually answer. So in the end of it all, I let it be. (I’ve been so good at letting things be this year. Not sure if that is good or bad though.)

After the milestone birthday, blog world has been silent while I pour all my energy on Instagram. The camaraderie of the poets there reminded me of how it was here on WordPress, when I was just getting acquainted with my poet-self. I remember being around the awesome group of poets who grew and learned with me. Until one by one they left.

Come May, I released my first poetry collection, Between My Bleeding Lines

BLEEDING LINES

It was exciting to see your words printed and published with a lovely cover by my dear Sarah Doughty. I have honestly no high hopes for this one, and true to “what you think will happen, happens”, it did not soar. Does it matter?

It will be a hypocrite answer to say, “No, book sales doesn’t matter.” Because it does. Who wouldn’t want to hit it big in the first try? Who wouldn’t want to be like Lang Leav and Rupi Kaur? Of course, I do. But I’ve got no expectations and maybe has so little faith. And it showed. It doesn’t make the journey of birthing a book a little less exciting and fulfilling, though. 🙂

Publishing is an uncharted sea I was able to try this year. While the reward isn’t as fruitful, the lessons I learned and the people that made the baby book possible are enough rewards for now. 🙂

In between the hullaballoo of the release and the consistent posting on Instagram, are work tasks which eventually lead me to another “first” of the year which happened last October! My first airplane ride, my first beach experience, and my first out-of-the-country travel trip! (Thailand! :D)

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And 2017 won’t let itself end without a bang as after I went to Thailand for a client’s event, a new job was waiting for me. I was accepted. Considering the family and not myself, I have to accept. Here we go. I have to dive into another uncharted sea.

In between these milestones, I have loved and I have lost. I have given a second chance, and right now, I think that battle is another war that I’ve lost. I want to believe that I’m a brave and not a coward soldier, who knows when to give up. ‘Cause I’m laying down my sword and my armour, it’s time to let people go.

Apologies for such a melancholic post, but believe me, I have a tired heart filled with hope. Like a badly wounded soldier, I’m dusting off my knees and cleaning my wounds.

I am ready for 2018 and the amazing ride it will bring. I am ready to swim the strange sea. I am ready to love and be loved again. I am ready to write and try and try again. I am not at my best position right now, but it doesn’t mean it won’t get better.

It is far better to start the year on bended knee, for that’s the best time to call to the mighty He. I know He will be with me.


HAPPY NEW YEAR, everybody!

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! 😀