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

A prose/haiku style haibun about the best meal I ever ate with a seasonal haiku at the end 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.

Truth

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Truth

Dust particles dance
within a shaft of sunlight
slowly crossing the room
traveling over my body
warm and comforting
like a lovers embrace
to the mirror where I stand
contemplating my mortality
the sun has become harsh
I raise a hand in denial.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

We are writing about mirrors this Wednesday at Poets United where I’ll link up then.

Reasons

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Reasons

There are reasons for our seasons
as we watch for yearly clues
in the summer we have flowers
multicolored meadows viewed.

Then the trees turn glorious colors
dying leaves fall to the ground
before the burning bonfires end
winter’s come without a sound.

When the Crocuses start blooming
and I heed the robin’s call
spring will bring her wondrous renewal.
Good reasons for us all.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

I wanted to write a poem about the seasons while naming them within the poem. There were a few versions of this before I finally got the words the way I wanted them and I’m happy with the way it turned out.

A past musing shared with my friends at Poets United.

Pharmaceuticals

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Pharmaceuticals

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a magic potion just for me
once a day to make me chill
I take my tablets happily.

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a capsule for my aches and pains
my doctor has a special pill
for every sickness that I feign.

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a gel cap for my troubled brain
pills that rob me of my will
but next week I will still complain.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Our society has a pill for almost everything we can think of and a horrible problem with addiction. Sometimes the drug is worse than the illness and fills an emotional need rather than physical. Addiction hurts not only you but the people around you and impacts your life in a negative way. Just because they are easy to get doesn’t mean it’s ok to take them. Be strong!