Hitler’s Bathtub

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Hitler’s Bathtub

I dreamed I took a bath in Hitler’s bathtub
he told me it would be better than taking a shower
I got a fluffy towel instead of an unmarked grave.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

War correspondent Lee Miller taking a bath in Hitler’s own bathtub, inside his abandoned apartment. The photo was taken on the same day that Hitler committed suicide. Munich, Germany – April 30, 1945. I got this image from a Google image search wrote about and animated it.

Written for the prompt irony at dVerse~Poets Pub.

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Goodbye Bruce

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Goodbye Bruce

He had it all but was empty inside
accomplishing much but yet living a lie
an ongoing book that had pages to hide
now she’s the one in the public’s eye.

A handsome man and a top athlete
a public life filled with private grief
just ’cause you’re different it doesn’t delete
yourself intact-you look for relief.

Why do the Kardashians seem so surprised
the clothes and the clues were all there to see
no longer happy with gender disguised
Caitlyn begins her own history.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

I have seen and read all about Bruce Jenner’s recent change and magazine cover. Caitlyn at 65 looks marvelous but it’s just an illusion that I find sad when realized it’s just the work of some well-paid doctors. I’m more interested in what doesn’t meet the eye and wish Caitlyn well.

First published today and shared with Poets United for the prompt gender. Many people are confused about gender these days. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like as I’ve always known I am a woman.

Kaleidoscope Moments

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Kaleidoscope Moments

Perpetually fractured shapes
looping through calico consequences
rendering ordered frames of confusion
as they fall into prismatic bits
of psychedelic fodder.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This is my work, a special type of round kaleidoscope/mandala that I made up. Written for Saturdays Image Write. Thanks to all who wrote, there’s still time to join us! Shared on Tuesday with the Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

Get Your Groove On

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Get Your Groove On

Spinning the grooves to move
a shindig you can’t miss
shag carpeting pulled back
come on let’s do the Twist!

Don’t be a drip, come shake those hips
and get those feet to work
feel that booming bass entice
come on let’s do the Jerk!

Mini skirts and paisley shirts
new dances all the craze
when I get my groove on
it’s a Keep On Truckin’ day.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

I felt like something light and fun this week so I’m sharing an oldie of mine about the oldies from Magpie Tales written for that dancing prompt I animated. Shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub.

Vanishing Act

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Vanishing Act

She could never keep her feet on the ground
she preferred her head above the clouds
daydreams taking her far away
leaving the cruel world behind
to others, just an empty shell
but on the inside…

She could never understand her fate
born free only to become enslaved
told when and how to feel
how to act and what to do and say
a second class citizen with a womb
expected to be a selfless caretaker of others
as if one job that pays less than a man isn’t enough.

She could never find peace in vacations
everywhere she went was the same
people controlling and questioning
lines of strangers greedy and pushing
draining her money and energy
not that any amount could unshackle her.

She could never breakout of her prison
returning to a home that wasn’t hers
“things” that belonged more than she did
a life she couldn’t bear for another instant
the heavy weight of it took her breath away
her heart crushed like so much stardust.

She could never commit suicide
despite her unhappiness with it all
so enthralled by the heavens that night
she made a decision to travel once more
plucking the evening star to wear in her hair
she decorated her robe with the milky way
wearing the rings of Saturn as her crown
a sliver of moon topped her scepter
finally, all the universe was hers alone.

Daydreams taking her far away
never, never to return.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015/2017

An old poem reworked with my animation from Magpie Tales and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. This is about women and some of the thoughts we may share about being born a woman in a man’s world. Some of us may dream of vanishing but we all know that there’s more to life. Going crazy (or suicide) is not the answer but I feel for the women who can’t deal and hope they find the help they need.

Grandparent’s Garden

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Grandparent’s Garden

Straight from the garden
carrots and peas
tomatoes and green beans
I eat as I please.

Berries and veggies
don’t make me frown
raw, sweet, and crisp
best food around.

Planted with love
straight from the vine
fresh from the soil
mine all mine!

grandma and grandpa
every spring a new garden
now sowing memories

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for dVerse~Poets Pub.

That would be my grandparent’s garden which us kids grazed from every summer. They always planted extra to compensate. I miss them very much.

Painted Ladies

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Painted Ladies

Primary colors
bright painted places
all dressed to kill
with wooden faces.

Historic old homes
begging attention
just don’t ask their age
it’s a bone of contention.

Sitting so prettily
rows upon rows
ladies in waiting
in their best clothes.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photograph by Gary Lo a friend of mine on Google+. (To see more of his work click on his name.) Written for Saturdays Image Write #7. Please drop in and join me for an image write each Saturday. Also linked to Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads for the theme home.