Heya guys, hope you are all having a swell day. I am too, thanks for asking. And yes, you read the title right. Guess who has gotten another published work under her belt? Yup, me. It's Indie April now and I managed to publish the recent A Poem a Day challenge I put myself on… Continue reading Announcement: March Anthologies Available for Sale.
Hello guys and welcome to the month of April. Things spiraled a little bit out of control in March didn’t it? I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that March turned out to be quite the trip. But hey, we are alive and that is something to be thankful for. Keep fighting guys,… Continue reading Hi, April
The sky is apocalyptically grey. Trees shake like rubber band. The reporter recounts disaster With just the hint of excitement. In the chaos, I reflect. This unnatural peace Gobbles me as I contemplate. What all these really means. Is this the last day of my pain? The last time it will call my… Continue reading A Poem a Day #31 The End.
Behind a Hazmat suit hides a girl, scared Afraid that this will be her end. Years in training had not prepared her for this. Invisible and contagious, it could have latched on Her, oblivious of incubating in her cells while Doing her rounds, yesterday Around whooping patients. When this is all over, This war against… Continue reading A Poem a Day #30 Behind a Hazmat Suit
Leaves unfurl in March. Forgotten puddles breed the Mosquitoes that bite. Heat is a cocoon. The humidity stinks but The flowers blossom. Seasons aren't sincere. Partial to the flora but Depriving my sleep.
At dusk, this lonely Belle. Took strolls from cell to cell. With a rag and a pail Filled with water from a well She'd mop the inmates faces, And unload from stacked up cases Meals for the those in braces Who had been caged for ages And then using magic power She would… Continue reading A Poem a Day #28 Dungeon Princess
Face plastered on the glass, Peering through the glass panels, I catch a glimpse of the past Uncertain if the face I see Is my own reflection or A frolicking after-image from seven years. She had a flower in her hair. Her lips were painted bright red To mimic a sultry woman. But she… Continue reading A Poem A Day #27 Window Reflections