if we were trees

Skyscrapers wishing they were trees, their long fingers reaching for the skies. Glass windows reflecting sunrises and sunsets peeking from behind the horizon, dancing with ripples of the river meandering from the core of the island, slowly finding their way to the arms of the ocean.

A little drive and they may land on the beach where music is louder at night; cooler breeze can be found closer to the hills, though it is not hard to miss the latter—if you’re really quiet you’ll hear the hills sigh for they wish they were taller than the trees.

skyline so sterile
dirt untouched will become clean
‘tis pretentious place


For NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo, Day 12 – a haibun that takes in the landscape of a place.

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved


the darkness holds a secret

scarlet horizon
fading into smears of black
secrets in the dark

The foggy night saw him standing still on the bridge once again. He could have passed as a random stranger to anyone else, but not to her. Even from afar she could make out the tired lines on his face. She wished she could peel his gaze off of the river, get him to notice her shadow at the window, instead of staring at the quiet ripples of the water.

She never knew where he came from, except that he always waltzed into view from behind the old building with rusty fences at the corner. He looked like he could be working at one of the bars lining the street just a block away.

She knew his routine by heart. From here he would slowly walk to the other end of the bridge, farther away from her, where the dying cassia tree patiently waited. He’d take out a cigarette from the box in his shirt pocket, lean one foot on the umber bough, and light up. She hated people who smoked, but for him, she’d make an exception.

Midnight was inching closer. He flicked the cigarette stub to the ground and crushed it under his foot. She thought he would disappear into the night as he always did, but this time he pulled out a gun from behind his back. He looked up, straight at her, as though he knew where she had been standing. She heard a bang and saw crimson where his head was, then a big splash as his body hit the water.


Happy Halloween!

A haibun for #OctPoWriMo Day 31.

I’m not participating in #NaNoWriMo, but in honor of it I will (try to) post a short story a day in the month of November.

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved

how I got here

Taken more than a few wrong turns back there at some crossroads. Stumbled and fell and crashed and burned more times than I could count. Found myself at the right place at the wrong time and the other way around. I look down time and again to make sure I can still feel my roots buried firmly in the ground, while stretching, reaching, stretching my branches to reach the sky, well, at least to let the sky know I am reaching for it, still reaching for my dream.

lessons from the past
like beacon in the darkness
leading me to light


a haibun for #OctPoWriMo Day 1, ‘how did I get here’

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved

the ghost and me

I can’t remember when I was here last. Funny how things can be different yet stay the same all at once. The tapestry is still looking pretty on the wall, but the corner table is now decorated with a lonesome vintage ashtray. There’s something familiar in the air – scent of tuberose? Where is it coming from? It takes me a while till I realize it’s my mind trying to make me feel at home.

empty front porch
full of sunset memories
crimson on windows

Somebody turns on the tap in the kitchen. The trees’ long shadows tell me it’s time for tea. Conversations, more like murmurs, waft into the room where I’m standing, looking out to rolling hills. Who’s here with me? How did they know I was here? Slowly I discover that they are echoes of who I used to be.

ghost of yesterday
occupying inner space
refusing to leave

Night falls and brings with it a sense of melancholy. I forget how dark it was in some corners, though strangely comforting. I breathe in the twilight breeze and remember why I loved it here. Safely hidden yet incredibly freeing, a place that seemed to be created for love to be born and grow and give birth to more love. Until someone comes along to say that the place belongs to someone else.

gray shadows dancing
in dark forbidden corners
an ode to the night

I sit quietly at the edge of silence, with a resolve to leave at first light. I hear voices and feel the touch, and know I’m not alone. When the moon appears I will ask her how long this beautiful space has been abandoned since I parted with the past.


© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved

name me beautiful

(a haibun)

He was a lover of beauty, surrounded by charm spread in four corners. Tucked in the warmth of his comfortable nook, he bathed in a spectra of colours poured in by queens and goddesses. Every word carried hidden meaning, special strings of stanza woven just for each one, lines making up a song he sang beneath the moonlight ~ an allure no heart could ever deny.

lady seduction
waltzed into his chambers with
air of arrogance

In her he saw determination to claim her possession. In her he saw the need to show off her strength to get the world down on its knees. In her he saw beauty, shamelessly raw and open, unlike any he had ever seen before her. Fire so fierce he was willing to feel the burn all over his body, to reduce his being down to charcoal, ceasing to exist if only to be held in her warm hands as ashes. Passion so strong he was yearning to melt, to become a puddle of nothing, mushy at her feet. A love pretending to be pure and perfect it was poisonous and blinding, as he missed out on a heart now scattered on wilting grass.

passionate princess
hid behind a wall of black
admitting defeat

Dawn broke and with it came a revelation that he wanted every piece of beauty he could get his hands on in his realm, but there was space for only one next to his throne. As he offered his hand she took it with pride, a smile of victory on her face. He was her reward, a recognition for the beauty nobody else possessed. Proudly wearing her crown she walked toward her king, for the happily ever after, or so she thought, to begin.

little did he know
thousand dances he missed for


written for maypoeticwings 3/31, “cassiopeia”

maypoeticwings is a Twitter poetry challenge hosted by @PoetessBecca and @BelezaAngel

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved

yellow cloud

what a long day ~ has it really been fourteen hours since she left the house? where did time go ~ how dare he zoom by, leaving trail of smoke in his wake. now the sun has set and the moon is perched high up in the sky, at the edge of a yellow cloud ~ she did not even have the chance to say good night.

walking through the crowd
wondering to herself what
tomorrow may bring


(c) annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved