Time To Fly

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Time To Fly

The sun watches all from high in the sky
caterpillar to butterfly, miracles so small
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

Everything smells wonderful and clean
flowers and grasses grow so tall
the sun watches all from high in the sky.

In the warmth, my mood is serene
outside the sunlight touches all
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

There is magic in the color green
and music plays in nature’s call
the sun watches all from high in the sky.

The spirit renews in life’s routines
slow and steady the protocol
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

So many mysteries remain unseen
constantly changing our big blue ball
the sun watches all from high in the sky
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This is my first Villanelle and I hope it’s written correctly. Written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. Shared with my friends at Poets United.

The Reveal

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The Reveal

Don’t look now-

I’m invisible!

I know you can see me
but I have made myself very small
I’m hardly here at all.

Look at me now-

I only reveal what is there!

Whatever it is
it can’t affect me
you will see.

Don’t look now-

I’m a freak!

I can only hope to hide
I can’t conform
I will never be the norm.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

Shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. My artwork and a poem from the past.

Spare The Air

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Spare The Air

It’s lunch hour in San Francisco on a foggy day. The sun tries to shed some light on the subject burning through the layers of car exhaust and jet streams from the nearby airport. The rush hour is in full force as drivers slowly move in lines like ants on the various freeways trying to free themselves of their cars. The local news station warns residents that it’s a Spare The Air Day.

Seated on a park bench near the bay munching on a sandwich the view is amazing. The yellow, orange and crimson streaks of color in the sky are beautiful. The sun is weaving in and out of the cloud layer making the afternoon light look magical. Without some pollution, the colors would never be quite like that. I am reminded of how a little smog can still be admired and enjoyed.

noon sun shimmers
a bayside Kodachrome moment
spare the air lunch hour

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photography by +Woojin Yu follow his work on Google+.

A haibun written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. In California, a Spare The Air Day is when the air is still and polluted to the point that making fires in fireplaces, burning garbage and other things that could add to the problem are prohibited until further notice. This is because we have very strict pollution laws. Although this picture looks like total pollution it’s mostly fog which we have a lot here. Despite my words, California has some of the best air in the US because most of our pollution goes down to the central valley.

Secrets From The Soil

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Secrets From The Soil

Egyptian mummies
rest in beautifully decorated sarcophagus
some inlaid with gold and gemstones
bodies prepared with spices and care
organs put into decorated clay pots
sealed for thousands of years
until found and studied by museums
spilling secrets from the soil
causes of death and life revealed
visualizing every feature and amulet
some mummies stand naked in groups
some are left as they were found
we see the faces, foods, and belongings
of these ancient people from our past
teaching us about life while celebrating death
while death teaches us about life.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for dVerse~Poets Pub hoping I’m not too late since it’s Wednesday! I’ve been very busy not meaning to take off weeks of writing but I’m back. Life has a way of just happening while time flies. This is my animation of an image I found for the poem. Soil brings us so many things!

Nothing Personal

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Nothing Personal

I amble down
a road less traveled
a path is discerned
almost telepathically
I inch my way along
somewhat cautiously.

Mossy growth glistening
marching through the woods
mounting an invasion
against the trees.

The damp smell of death
permeating my senses
life mirrors nature
nature’s way is survival
nothing personal.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

A poem from my past posted for Earth Day. Also a nod to Robert Frost. Linked in the nick of time with dVerse~Poets Pub.

Different

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Different

We’re different it’s plain to see
if you say why I say I don’t know
I say it’s you, you say it’s me
if I say stay then you just go.

If I see you and say hello
you look at me and say goodbye
if I say high, then you say low
all I can ask is why, oh why?

I tell you yes, you say oh no
why must it always be this way?
When I say fast then you go slow
I say good-night you say good-day.

I don’t know why you say goodbye
our conversations make me cry.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Writing an English pop sonnet based on a popular song from my past with dVerse~Poets Pub. This band was very popular in the 60’s and I’d like you to guess but the answer is here. The artwork is one of my animations untitled.

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.