Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul



The Sky is Blue, Always Is


I read hundreds were dead today. Another airstrike was launched; another bomb exploded. Another life on death row; another AIDS victim. Tears were shed as blood smeared the earth yet the sky is blue. Even with the hovering depression, frustration and obliteration, it remains blue. No matter how many times it witnessed death and conflict, heard cries of anguish and utter distress, the horizon is a never-ending blue. It never faded into gray. Why is that? I looked at the cerulean sky and found the glorious sun smiling at me. The sun shined brightly as if saying that all these were just passing clouds—they come and they go. On most days clouds peppered the sky, on some days they filled it. But it never lasted, none of the clouds did. And in the curtain call, as the day faded into night, I succumbed to gloom. I looked up, anticipating the darkness that mirrored this world, only to find a star speckled night sky. The moon winked and said, “Have a little faith, child.”

Weary— my eyes closed
I woke up to a blue sky
Smiling, faith revived

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

In response to dVerse’s Tuesday Poetics: Breathing in Blue

Tending the bar for Poet’s Pub today is De who’s back fresh from Lake Tahoe. Check out her gorgeous piece, A thousand shards of cobalt glass.😉

P.S. I guess I’m on a haibun rampage this week for dVerse. Will try to flex  my fingers for some lines and rhymes next time. 😉

Head over here to join the fun:


Windswept Adieu

A Syrian man holds the body of his child after it was taken from under the rubble of destroyed buildings following a reported air strike on the rebel-held neighborhood of al-Marjah in the northern city of Aleppo, on July 24, 2016. Ameer Alhalbi/AFP

Windswept Adieu

A hopeful heart
Of dreams that soar
A dearth of chance
Life bestows

A father’s tears
On daughter’s wake
Throughout the years
A heart that breaks

A silent scream
To the skies
Who is to blame?
A mouthful curse

A soft whisper
A gentle kiss,
The breeze sends
A windswept adieu

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

Image via  Rappler

Today’s Filipino word prompt is “pahimakas” which means “last farewell”.

My heart breaks for the people of Aleppo after the series of airstrikes that befall them. These needless wars and deaths are draining the last faith in humanity that remains in me. We, human beings, must stop killing each other and use our religious faith as an excuse to do so. Because truth is, TERRORISM HAS NO RELIGION. It never did and it never will. 😥

Come on! Write a poem or a fiction
Snap a photo under the sun
A six-word tale or a long post, perhaps?
Let’s all get word-high this July!

Want to join the fun? Find the prompt words HERE! Don’t forget to pingback & use the tag WordHighJuly. Mazel tov! 😉


Twilight Prayers


When I reach the twilight of my days, I pray
That I have written enough of unicorns and moonbeams
That I have never missed to marvel the beauty of sunrise
Of sunsets, rainbows and verdant greens
That I could smile at my sorrow, anguish and pain
That my poetry and prose screamed enough of my joys
My tears, ups and downs

I pray that when I reach the twilight of my days
I have slit my rib cage open enough for you to see
That amidst the world’s series of charade, I was real—
Unmasked and untamed
So you could write me a lovely eulogy
Make me chuckle at my epitaph
When I lay, in peace, six feet beneath the ground

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

Photography by Christa Taylor

Today’s Filipino word prompt is “habilin” which refers to “anything given to  somebody for safekeeping”.

Come on!
Write a poem or a fiction
Snap a photo under the sun
A six-word tale or a long post, perhaps?
Let’s all get word-high this July!

Want to join the fun? Find the prompt words HERE! Don’t forget to pingback & use the tag WordHighJuly. Mazel tov! 😉


A Scent of Peace


A Scent of Peace
A Dizain

Must we walk along blood speckled street?
Hearts drumming, teeming with fears.
Must we cower in silence on our defeat?
Watch men die, cry a river of tears.
Fighting battles with bombs and spears
Have we had enough of this death and uproar?
We must put an end, to you I implore—
This pointless game of kill and destroy.
For isn’t the scent of peace sweeter than war
And tears more priceless when of joy?

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

Graffiti by Banksy via Tree of Life

In response to dVerse’s Tuesday Poetics: Empire of Scents

Poet’s Pub today is hosted by Grace with her scents of childhood. Our poetry challenge is to dive into the world of scents. Drizzle your verses with spices, if you are a lover of food.   Make us happy or sad, even lusty and sensual, to evoke memories. Fill our plate with your scented words, and fill our nostrils with emotions.

*My heart bleeds for the lives lost at Istabul and it scorches with rage towards the pointless reasons behind these crimes. Sigh. The image above is a graffiti by Bansky entitled, “Rage, Flower Thrower”. This artwork is reminiscent of 1960’s campus and street riots. The colorful flowers are in exchange for a grenade is a bid for peace and the end to all massacres in the name of war.

Behind Closed Doors


Behind Closed Doors

A little girl who counts to three
An old man on a rocking chair
A man, a woman, a family
Tears and laughter; a heartfelt prayer

In a flash, all these were gone
In a blast, ceased the rising sun
An endless ruin behind closed door
Of misery, the ruins roar

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

In response to dVerse’s Tuesday Poetics: Open a new door with me

Poet’s Pub today is hosted by Lillian who took us to an Alice-adventure with her poem. Looking forward to sharing more cups of coffee with you, too! 🙂

P. S. The photo above is an artwork by a British graffiti artist named Banksy who found a canvas in  the war-scarred ruins of Gaza after the 50-day battle between Israel and Hamas last 2015. Banksy was able to depict the misery and distress of the people in his satirical murals. This image of a weeping goddess that he had spray-painted on the iron door of a destroyed home, for instance, has stirred myriad of emotions around the world.


The Day

© Roger Bultot

The Day
Satirical Fiction

I stared out the window, little birds are clustered on live wires across the empty street. The world outside was ominously still— no cars and not a hint of soul.

Where is everyone? I wondered.

Then I realized, today is the day. The defining moment wherein a new governing body will be established. A new head of the state. A new ruler. A new legacy.

I wonder who’ll win the election. Whose dirty tricks worked? Whose sugar-coated words thrived?

A deafening firing disrupted my reverie but none of the birds came spiraling down.

Then I realized, today is the day.

Word Count: 100

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

In response to this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. Friday Fictioneers is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a hundred-word piece of fiction. Thank you!

PH is three days away from its national election and the country is in clamor. This game of thrones has led families and friends fight among each other, insisting and brawling that one candidate is better than the other. I found this series, Imagined President, from Rappler interesting and thought-provoking. But who really is the lesser evil? I wish I knew.

There is just one thing I hope on May 9. I hope it won’t be a bloody end.

Enjoy more stories here:



We were trained to hit, not just shoot. It sounds cruel, but we’re taught to kill seamlessly in a shot without feeling the slightest guilt. Whichever side a soldier is on- America, Russia, China, or Syria- we always believed we’re on the right side. We have to. And by the time we stepped behind our enemy’s line, we’re bound to kill or be killed.

So there we were, moving stealthily along empty houses where our foes, reportedly, hide. It only took one noise before the firing started. It lasted for only thirty-three minutes but it felt like a lifetime. Dead men lay sprawled out and crooked in the mud. Victory was on our side.

Or so we thought.

Amidst the mutilated corpses, stood a howling dog; its cry was haunting. I drew nearer to find it licking a dead woman’s face. There were children in there, too.

I walked as far away from that killing ground. The dog, to my surprise, followed my scent. Filled with guilt, I kneeled to meet its eyes, “Forgive me.”

Word Count: 175

Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. I’ve known from the moment I saw the photo prompt from pixabay that it would probably entail a heartbreaking story from most of us. So here I am, joining the band.

Enjoy more stories here:

The Hourglass

PHOTO PROMPT - © Sandra Crook


Bill Ortega, the world’s wealthiest man with a net worth of $143.7 billion, sat weak and powerless on the bedside. For sixty years, he lived life as a race, never stopping to take a break. But how he wished he did.

Lying on deathbed was his wife Ligaya, her body a shrunken leaf. He couldn’t help but let out a sob. “Honey?” she asked, her face lined with pain.

“I should have slowed my life down.” he lamented, “I don’t want to lose-

“You’re not, you never will.” she differed, “Remember your favorite hourglass? I tilted it.”

Confused, he asked why.

“To slow my time down.”

Then Ligaya gave him her sweetest smile.

Word Count: 113

Here’s for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. The photo prompt is a courtesy of Sandra Crook which reminds me three things, 1) to seize the day, 2) live life to the fullest, and 3) to savor every moment. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Friday Fictioneers s a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a hundred-word piece of fiction.

Enjoy more stories here. 🙂

Baby’s breath

Written for Mind and Life Matters’ Limerick Challenge Week 7: Aspire

Headlines are filled with war, tension, and death

Humanity blurred with pride, greed, and meth

She yearned for peace to settle

Save life’s remaining petal

Hear the children laugh; smell a baby’s breath

Photo Credits: Arkibo ng Bayan

I read a terrifying and saddening news in Rappler about some extremist groups here in the Philippines pledging allegiance to ISIS. While we are stuck amidst the height of political feud, religious bigotries, health issues, and extreme poverty, some of our little brothers and sisters in Mindanao are either breathing with fear or trained to fight a war they have not started. Gone are their laughter; gone are their smiles. What ever happened to “The Children of Tomorrow”? 😦

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