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Romella Dasratt

@romelladasratt

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Verse and Vows: Volume One is a collection of my thoughts, truths, and quiet reckoning, written in verses when I couldn’t find the spoken words. These poems explore love, identity, motherhood, heartbreak, healing, and the silent promises we make to ourselves and others. Some pieces are soft prayers, others are bold declarations, but all of them come from a place of deep feeling and reflection. As a mom and former journalist, I’ve always found it easier to write than to speak. This book is my way of making sense of the world, one poem at a time. If you’ve ever overthought, overfelt, or simply needed a safe place to land, these pages are for you. Welcome to my heart. Now Live on Amazon: LINK IN THE BIO. by @romelladasratt
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a year ago
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Wilbur and Taita - The Eunuch Who Out-Smarted Kings - Part Two Romella: “Wilbur, your eunuch runs the royal show, While men with all their parts stand lined below. Was Taita’s loss the key to his command, Or did you want a mind outside the band?” Wilbur: “I wanted someone who could see the seams, The cracks beneath a kingdom’s polished dreams. A man denied the paths that others tread Might learn to read the games those paths have bred.” Romella: “Now let us talk of Intef and his reign, And Taita’s well-cultivated stock of pain. He hated that old lord with reason, sure, But did revenge become his private cure?” Taita: “Lord Intef dealt in cruelty and deceit; His pride made every lesser life expendable meat. I saw the damage hidden from the throne, And learned how rot can flourish, richly grown.” Romella: “Then Tanus enters, loyal to the core, A friend worth more than titles, gold, or war. You risked your neck to keep his future whole; Was friendship your conviction, or your role?” Taita: “Tanus possessed what rank could never buy, A heart that stood its ground when men would lie. The world may mock a king’s friendship as disgrace; A queen’s love, they call treason in its place.” Romella: “And there’s the rotten rule beneath the gold: A man’s affection shames, a queen’s makes her bold, Then brands her faithless for the love she chose, While men write laws and dictate how love goes.” Taita: “Such laws were chains upon the living soul; The crown demanded silence as its toll. I knew the truth could bring the house to flame, And every innocent would share the blame.” Romella: “So you raised a dead king from his royal bed, And made a nation follow ghosts instead. You dressed deception in the robes of love, Then claimed the gods had sent it from above.” Taita: “The priests could guard their doctrines, kings their pride; A naked truth would leave my friends exposed on every side. A tale of gods could turn suspicion wide, And keep the blade of scandal from their side.” Romella: “But why deceive the people by the score? Why make the whole land act out your folklore? Could priests not be persuaded, dealt with, swayed, Instead of making all of Egypt play?” Wilb by @romelladasratt
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11 hours ago
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Wilbur and Taita - The Eunuch Who Out-Smarted Kings - Part One Romella: “Wilbur, you gave us Egypt, blood, and gold, And Taita, whose accomplishments are told. He heals, invents, reads stars, and wins each fight; Did you leave any talent out of sight?” Taita: “By Nile and sun, my gifts are widely known; I shape the bow, heal flesh, and read the stone. My face, my wit, my hands all merit praise; It takes rare modesty to list my ways.” Romella: “Rare modesty? Your ego fills the room; Your mirror must require a palace tomb. You boast of every talent, every art, Yet somehow left humility out of your heart.” Wilbur Smith: “I built him larger than the ordinary man, With gifts and guile to execute a plan. I studied what I could, then let him soar; A tale must make you hungry for some more.” Romella: “Now, Taita, there’s a matter I must raise: You knew young Lostris through her childhood days. Then grown-up longing entered in the tale; Explain that shift, and spare me the grand veil.” Taita: “Lady, the heart is strange, the flesh is clay; The years can change what once seemed clear as day. I served her, guarded her through fear and flame; Yet service cannot cleanse desire’s name.” Romella: “That answer sounds too polished to be clean; You held the power while she was young and green. You knew her as a child; that fact remains, And calling it devotion changes none of the stains.” Wilbur Smith: “I gave him gifts, ambition, pride, and scars; He reads the body and can navigate the stars. But skill is not a moral alibi; A clever man must answer when we ask him why.” Taita: “In Pharaoh’s land, the rules were not your own; A servant’s heart can harden into stone. Yet if my power made her less than free, Then let that question turn its blade on me.” Romella: “Good. Now we’re getting somewhere, old and wise; I want the man behind the master’s guise. Wilbur, next we’ll ask what stories hide, And whether charm survives when morals are tried.” Romella Dasratt by @romelladasratt
0
a day ago
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Marx, Money & the Machinery of Power Romella: “Karl Marx, explain yourself; the poor still strive, While men who own the world decide who thrives. Your books are old, yet here we are today; Did capitalism simply learn a slicker way?” Karl Marx: “The names have changed; the structure still remains, The worker labours while the owner gains. You sell your hours, your strength, your very skill, While others own the product of your will.” Romella: “Now algorithms watch the worker’s every move, While billionaires explain how they improve. A driver serves an app that sets his rate; Who owns the future when the code decides his fate?” Karl Marx: “The platform owns the tools, the data, the door; The worker bears the risk and still must earn some more. The machinery grows richer as the wages lag; And freedom means little when your choices all feel drab.” Romella: “But people build their businesses and rise; Some start with nothing, earn their wealth, and thrive. Must every rich man be the worker’s foe? Or have you made class war the only way to grow?” Karl Marx: “I never claimed that talent must be chained, Or every private venture should be drained. Ask who owns the tools, who sets the price, And whether those who labour share the sacrifice.” Romella: “Then tell me why your promised systems failed, Why speech was crushed and dissenters jailed. When states took over, did the people rule, Or did new masters simply change the tool?” Karl Marx: “My name became a banner for regimes; Their deeds must face the evidence, not dreams. But ownership by states can still exclude, When power serves itself and calls control the common good.” Romella: “So what belongs to us in this modern age? Fair wages, unions, or a minimum wage? Can workers own a share and shape their fate, While private enterprise still earns its rate?” Karl Marx: “Let workers bargain, organise, and share; Let law protect them from a rigged affair. Try forms of ownership where workers share The risks, the gains, the say in what they bear.” Romella: “Your theory still raises questions worth the fight; Who owns the wealth, and who controls our plight? But if your cure gives rulers unchecked command, Who gua by @romelladasratt
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3 days ago
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Rumi and the Turning Heart Romella: “Rumi, I see your dervishes whirl and spin, As though the road to God runs round within. Tell me, does turning make the spirit wise, Or simply make a dizzy man feel he can rise?” Rumi: “The turning is a doorway, not the prize; The heart must wake beyond the body's cries. When self grows still and love becomes your guide, You meet the Truth no outward dance can hide.” Romella: “So all this talk of love, of God above, Could every fool excuse his lust as love? How do I tell divine desire from pride, When both can wear a holy mask outside?” Rumi: “Then watch what love produces in your soul; Does it make you kinder, or demand control? True love unfastens every selfish chain; It opens you to others' joy and pain.” Romella: “You speak of losing self as though it’s wise, Yet should I kill my mind to win the skies? If reason questions what the heart believes, Must I call doubt a thief whenever it grieves?” Rumi: “Keep your keen questions; let them dig below, For roots seek depths that flowers never know. The mind can guide you to the garden gate; Love walks you through, where words must learn to wait.” Romella: “And what of God? Must I dissolve to see A truth that lives beyond what makes me, me? If all is One, then tell me, wise old friend, Where does my soul begin, and where does it end?” Rumi: “The drop fears loss when called to join the sea, Yet finds a vastness greater than its plea. You lose the claim that you alone are whole, And find a wider country in the soul.” Romella: “Then why the ache, the longing, and the tears? Why does the soul keep wrestling with its fears? If love is home, why do we roam so far, And search for God beneath some distant star?” Rumi: “The reed sings grief because it left the reed bed; Its song recalls the home from which it fled. Let longing teach your heart to seek and see; The road to Love begins where you become free.” Romella Dasratt by @romelladasratt
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6 days ago
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Hug Me Twice Hug me as though I might depart, And leave your warmth around my heart; As though tomorrow might erase The chance to feel your sweet embrace. Hug me like the world might end, Like lover, family, soul, and friend; Let every breath your arms impart Remind me where I keep my heart. Hug me when the days are kind, When joy comes easy to the mind; For love expressed before despair Becomes a memory we can bear. Hug me when the words run dry, When neither one knows how to try; Let silence speak where tongues grow weak, And give the comfort words can't speak. Hug me today with all you are, As though I've journeyed from afar; Then hug me when tomorrow's here, As though you'd missed me for a year. Hug me while our pulses rhyme, While we still have the gift of time; For life can turn without a sign, And steal your tomorrow before it's mine. Hug me as though I'd gone away, Then hug me when I greet the day; Let love be something we renew, As though each dawn brings me back to you. Romella Dasratt by @romelladasratt
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7 days ago
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Dostoevsky And The Human Abyss Romella: “Fyodor, you searched where human angels fall, Where sinners build their pride into a wall. You gave us murderers who reasoned away their crime; Why does the mind defend what the soul condemns in time?” Dostoevsky: “Because the mind can build a splendid case, And dress our darkest motives up in grace. A man may prove his innocence all night, While something deep inside him knows he isn’t right.” Romella: “So guilt is more than fear of being caught? A private court where every lie is fought? And if we silence conscience, lock the door, Why does the soul keep asking us for more?” Dostoevsky: “Because the truth survives the cleverest disguise; We fool the world far better than our own eyes. The wound begins to heal when pride gives way, When we confess the truth we buried yesterday.” Romella: “You wrote of suffering as a road to grace, Yet pain can leave a crueler heart in place. Some break beneath the weight of what they bear; Must suffering make us wiser to be fair?” Dostoevsky: “Pain has no magic that makes goodness grow; Some hearts turn bitter underneath its blow. But suffering can strip the false self bare, And show us what we choose to do from there.” Romella: “Then freedom sounds a heavier thing than chains; We choose our sins, then blame the world for pains. We beg to rule our lives, to choose our way, Then curse the price our choices make us pay.” Dostoevsky: “Because true freedom asks what pride evades, To own the lives we shape, the debts we’ve made. A man may blame his God, his fate, his birth, Yet still must face the value of his worth.” Romella: “And what of faith when innocent children cry? What answer holds when all our reasons die? Can love redeem a world so steeped in pain, Or is our hope a beautiful refrain?” Dostoevsky: “I have no easy answer, neatly tied; I know how faith and doubt can share one side. But love must live in what our hands impart; The deepest truth is proved by how we treat a heart.” Romella Dasratt by @romelladasratt
0
8 days ago
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With All Your Might Whatever your hands are called to do, Let heart and purpose see it through; For every task, however small, Deserves the best you have to call. When songs of praise rise through the air, Let every note become a prayer; Sing as though your soul could soar, And give the heavens something more. When giving, let your motives show A kindness with no strings below; For gifts that carry hidden fees Are chains disguised as courtesies. When daily chores demand your care, Bring willing hands and spirit there; Let sweeping floors and meals prepared Reflect the pride with which you cared. When someone comes to you in pain, Be shelter from the pouring rain; Give time, attention, tenderness, And let your presence ease distress. For every deed contains a seed, That grows according to its creed; The hand may act, the lips may speak, Yet hearts reveal the strong or weak. So whatever your hands undertake, Give all your heart to what you make; Let purpose, passion, strength unite, And serve the world with all your might. Romella Dasratt by @romelladasratt
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8 days ago
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Diogenes And Cynicism Romella: “Diogenes, I hear you lived inside a jar, So tell me, was philosophy always this bizarre? You mocked the rich, slept rough, rejected their praise; Was that enlightenment or just attention for days?” Diogenes: “Girl, if comfort is wisdom, then your couch must be wise; You decorate cages and call them your lives. I owned very little, so little owned me; That is what freedom looks like when the mind can see.” Romella: “You carried a lamp in broad daylight, searching for a man; Was Athens really so short on them, or was that your plan? You claimed you sought one who lived honestly, free, I’m guessing the search took you centuries, did it, Di?” Diogenes: “I searched because crowds make a virtue look strange; Most people wear masks and call changing clothes change. I wanted a human who lived what he said; You’d be surprised how many have philosophers’ heads.” Romella: “Then Plato called man a featherless biped, so you came with a plucked chicken in hand. That was your rebuttal? Seriously, man? You brought him his definition and said, ‘Here is your prize’; Was that philosophy, or just trolling in disguise?” Diogenes: “Both, little troublemaker. Words need a test; A definition means nothing when reality laughs best. If your clever idea collapses when life walks in, Perhaps your idea was the joke, not my grin.” Romella: “Then Alexander came, offering anything you could name; Gold, land, protection, political fame. And all that you wanted was room for the sun? You could’ve owned the empire, Diogenes. You chose none?” Diogenes: “Alexander owned kingdoms and still wanted more; I owned my desires, so what would I need yours for? He conquered the world and remained its slave; I conquered my wanting. That made me brave.” Romella: “So your whole philosophy boils down to needing less? No fancy possessions, no status, no dress? You really think happiness grows when desire gets small?” Diogenes: “Desire is a leash when you worship it all. Train yourself hard and you become free; The less you require, the harder to rule you will be. Nature gives enough, yet convention demands more; People build golden cages, then complain about the door.” by @romelladasratt
0
9 days ago
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Marilyn And Norma, Seen and Unseen Romella: “Marilyn, tell me, how did you turn the room? How did a glance make every stranger assume That something had entered, something had changed, When all you had done was walk through the crowd unchanged?” Marilyn: “I learned that attention begins somewhere deep; You carry the woman the world gets to meet. Sometimes you invite every eye to your door, Sometimes you become the woman they saw before.” Romella: “So visibility starts with the way that we stand? With something inside giving shape to the land? Perhaps all those eyes were responding to you, To something you knew before they ever knew?” Marilyn: “Perhaps. But darling, being seen has a cost; Sometimes the woman they see is the woman you’ve lost. They loved Marilyn, the image, the glow, While Norma Jeane wondered where she was supposed to go.” Romella: “That’s the part that troubles me, sister, you see; A million eyes watching, yet nobody free. How can someone worship the face in the light And miss the woman breaking down out of sight?” Marilyn: “Because fame sees the surface and calls it the soul; Applause fills a room while the heart can feel cold. A woman can sparkle and still need a hand; The brightest display can conceal sinking sand.” Romella: “Then maybe awareness is more than being seen; It means knowing the woman who lives in between. The one who performs, and the one who goes home, The one who can sparkle, then ache all alone.” Marilyn: “Yes, darling. And please, when you polish your crown, Leave room for the woman who sometimes sits down. You needn't perform every breath of the day; Some parts of your heart deserve room to stay.” Romella: “I think I understand what you’re telling me; Attention is power, but awareness is free. Perhaps we don't need every eye to agree; We need one woman to see another, and me.” Romella Dasratt by @romelladasratt
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11 days ago
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Tupac, Thug Life And The Truth Romella: “Pac, sit down, I got questions for you; You made ‘Thug Life’ sound almost philosophical too. You talked about the struggle, then talked about the fame, So tell me, homie, which Pac gets the blame?” Tupac: “Cuz, both of ’em, you better understand the game; The poet and the fighter carried the same name. I spoke what I lived, every scar, every bruise, Some truths hit hard, so I gave ’em some blues.” Romella: “Okay, but homie, you had rage for days, Then wrote ‘Dear Mama’ in the sweetest of ways. One minute you’re dangerous, next minute you’re deep; Were you fighting the world or just begging for sleep?” Tupac: “Look, girl, pain got layers, that’s facts, that’s real; A man can throw punches and still know how to feel. I came from a people taught survival through pain, So I turned all that pressure into words on a page.” Romella: “You blamed the system, the cops and the street, But sometimes, Pac, your own choices brought heat. You wanted peace while your fists stayed prepared; You preached about love while revenge still lived there.” Tupac: “Cuz, contradiction is part of the human design; You can dream about peace while surviving the grind. I never claimed sainthood, so miss me with that; I told you what I was, every wound and every fact.” Romella: “And what about women? Come on, Pac, don’t duck; You could write tender, then act like a fuck. You praised strong women, gave mothers their due, Then sometimes your lyrics had explaining to do.” Tupac: “Fo’ sho’, I got flaws, and I carried ’em loud; I was young, I was angry, I was lost in the crowd. But growth ain’t pretending your past never came; Growth is looking that mess in the face with your name.” Romella: “So if you could talk to the young ones today, Would you still tell ’em, ‘Thug Life,’ or show them another way?” Tupac: “I’d say, ‘Keep your head up, but sharpen your mind; Love your people, cuz, and leave the hate behind. Use every scar as a reason to rise; The strongest revolution starts behind your eyes.’” Romella Dasratt by @romelladasratt
0
11 days ago
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Rasputin And The Trouble With Holiness Romella: So, Rasputin, let's begin with you; Which parts are legend, which are true? A holy man with a flair, Who somehow wound up everywhere. Rasputin: I came from Siberia, poor and plain, Then faith and visions called my name. I travelled far, I preached, I prayed, And somehow royal friends were made. Romella: Royal friends? That's quite a climb; Most people need a lifetime's time. You reached the Tsar and Empress too; Did charm come free with prayers from you? Rasputin: Their son was ill, his life was frail, And somehow prayer appeared to prevail. The Empress trusted what she'd seen, And suddenly I stood between. Romella: Between the throne and common sense? You had the court on your expense. They called you healer, sage and seer, While others wished you disappeared. Rasputin: When power fears a man they can't control, They dress his name in dirt and coal. A drink, a woman, one strange tale, Add “mad monk,” and truth grows pale. Romella: But surely, Grigori, here's the thing; You drank and chased women near the King. You had your fingers in affairs, And somehow still collected prayers? Rasputin: I never claimed that I was tame, But every rumour fed my fame. When men decide a man is strange, Each gossipped tale begins to change. Romella: And then they said you would not die, Poison, bullets, river, sky. You rose again and made them flee; Were you immortal, or just slippery? Rasputin: Ah, now you trust the tale too much; The truth was less dramatic by far. Three bullets ended what remained; The river merely bore the blame. Romella: So history made you twice as wild, A holy devil dressed and styled. You died, the monarchy soon fell, Tell me, did you predict that hell? Rasputin: I warned that Russia faced a storm, But men prefer a legend's form. They made me monster, mystic, fool, And forgot I was a man, not rule. Romella: Well, that's convenient, I'll confess; You blame the myths for your excess. But if you stirred the royal stew, Perhaps the rumours knew a thing or two. Rasputin: Perhaps I stirred it, perhaps I strayed, Perhaps some truths were overplayed. But history loves a wicked tale, And I, my de by @romelladasratt
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13 days ago
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