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!

The Letter

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The Letter

Thrust into my hands
handwriting barely legible
every
last
word
and
lingering lie
delivered deliberately.

That tear stained letter
now
a sad memory
relished, relinquished,
then released.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

An old poem with my animation. This happened to me but not in letter form, it was face to face and never to be. I think we’ve all had our relationship disappointments in life but I hope you were spared. Love is complicated at the best of times.

It’s good to be back after taking an unscheduled break from writing. Sometimes life gets in the way. Tomorrow’s another birthday for me I’m turning 63. I use to avoid mentioning my age in the past but due to my bike riding and good health, I feel too good to be so silly.

Shared with my friends at Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

The Boom Boom Boom

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The Boom Boom Boom

I feel the bass
############EXPLODING
through my body
###############with the boom
#########boom
###############boom.

As the electric guitar
##################SCREAMS
#######over the notes
of the opening song.

The music SMELLS
#####like an alleyway
in San Francisco

####where you get a BUZZ
########just by passing by.

The people stand
#####in lines
############waiting
at the venue
and the music
#############SPILLS
#################outside
into the streets.

So
#####singular
and beautiful
############the notes

#####as they CASCADE

 

###############down.

Bouncing
#########off the buildings
with the bass
############EXPLODING
########with the boom
##boom
########boom.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Photography by Lorenzo Montezemolo. An old poem I wrote about a place I used to live and love shared with my friends at Poets United.

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.

Cake

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Cake

I was told there would be cake
a delicious flavor just for me
yet I grow tired of lingering
I’m crumbling into pieces
my life stale and tasteless.

I was told there would be cake
yet I find no sweet treat today
my kitchen sits spotless awaiting
the glorious gooey sticky mess.
Will I ever find that recipe again?

I was told there would be cake
as the years go by the craving grows
sitting alone at a table set for one
wondering if I’ll be left
holding an empty plate.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Picking a protest sign to write about linking with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. Divorced twice with no children I still dream of finding that special man to share the rest of my life with. That would take the cake and be sweet indeed.

April Crocus

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April Crocus

When it seems like old man winter
will never lose his icy grip
dainty goblet-shaped Crocus
push through the melting snow.

Yellow, white and purple flowers
putting on their Easter finest
a colorful revival and early arrival
that fills us with new hope
welcoming the coming spring.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Shared with Monday WRites for Holy Week and Poets United.

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.