Seven Years Of Bad Luck

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Seven Years Of Bad Luck

Seven years of bad luck
I broke the mirror
and now I’m stuck
seven years of misery
a devastating history
if I could make it up I would
but now it’s done
won’t do no good
I broke the mirror
and though it sucks
it’s seven years of bad luck.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for the prompt reflecting on mirrors with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. Breaking a mirror can be a problem if that’s what you believe.

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Lines And Wrinkles

Lines And Wrinkles

I found a photograph
taken on my behalf
it was a moment seized
for which I’m unappeased
showing off my age
it sent me in a rage!

My eyes to me looked glazed
my wrinkled skin amazed
I hold to this belief
age causes most my grief.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for the prompt reflecting on mirrors with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. When I think of mirrors I can’t help but think of aging.

Super Duper Blue

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Super Duper Blue

The moon plays tricks
with a lunar eclipse
eyes to the skies
the full moon comes soon
twice this month is nice
number two is blue
tipping and slipping
under the earth’s umbra
invitingly in syzygy
this blood moon makes us swoon.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

A Blue Moon is when two full moons happen in the same calendar month; lunar eclipses occur when the moon passes into Earth’s shadow; and supermoons happen when the moon’s perigee — its closest approach to Earth in a single orbit — coincides with a full moon. In this case, the supermoon also happens to be the day of the lunar eclipse.

The second full moon and the lunar eclipse will occur on the night of Jan. 30 or the morning of the 31st. And the supermoon will take place on the night of Jan. 30, which is technically one day before the moon reaches peak fullness, but even NASA is willing to call the event a supermoon nonetheless.

I watched it last night on my patio it was awesome! My picture isn’t great, but it’s the only camera I had. This was when the moon was fully eclipsed and blood orange.

Written with my friends at Poets United for the prompt moon. Also, shared with my friends at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.

A Few Choice Words

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A Few Choice Words

Dreaming of finished work
and waking up to a blank page
the wordsmith wonders
can she do them justice?

Stanzas fueled by nicotine
crafting syllables into emotions
evoking unfamiliar feelings
while discovering new words.

Coffee rings on the desk
making a daisy chain of sorts…
Finishing a particularly nice couplet
a literary work of rhymes.

Or not.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I animated this image from Google search.

Written with my friends at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. I, like Magaly, like to write more than poetry. On Postcard Fiction I write flash fiction (short stories that use the reader’s imagination) and on Bike With Bekkie, I write regular blog stories about health and such. Then I have 2 more sites (one private) where I write occasionally. Words and bicycles are my main pursuits these days.

This prompt spoke to me because I love words and the satisfaction they bring me whether read or written. Yet I think we all wish we could write a few choice words from time to time.

Words are so cathartic, cleansing, entertaining, and yes, healing.

Spurned

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Spurned

Yes, the world
run by men
hasn’t been kind to me.

If I want something
like equal pay
fair work practices
or unbiased treatment in general
I get shrugged off
like a second,
or third thought.

I’m allowed to live with them
vote and pay taxes with them
have children with them
told I’m one of them
but behind closed doors
in secret meetings
and the White House…

Heck, right to my face
it never changes
my rights are spurned
taken away, ignored
I’m told what to do with my body
given less
when so much is expected of me.

It’s like I don’t have the right sticker
to enter their nightclub
no amount of money
or the right designer labels
will ever do
I’m one of the people who
won’t get in.

I have always been
under someone’s thumb
sometimes I don’t even know them
they watch what I have
and take what they want.

And here I come
running like an ignoramus
clutching my last rights to my chest
better have the correct documents
out of breath and limping…

I keep what little is left
I make the best of it
I don’t have to like it.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I animated this artwork found through a Google image search. The search only brings up Standford University and no artist. As a woman, this is the only way I know.

Written and shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub for open link night.

Empty

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Empty

Standing at the graveside I smell loss
the warm Autumn day turned damp
as the fog danced and swirled about
like ghosts of the past encircling
grieving relatives rend their garments
weeping openly while the children
huddle at their feet.

The rain fell harder
tapping on my shoulders
each drop reminding me
he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

This poem was written about this picture prompt.

As One

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As One

two trees grow as one
lovers fused in an embrace
my eyes drink it in
dark brown bark turns into skin
green leaves into tousled hair

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Today at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads we celebrate National Handwriting Day with a handwritten poem. I share an old tanka and am afraid my handwriting has become sloppy through the years. This is the first thing I’ve written in quite a while.