A Writer’s Life

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A Writer’s Life

A writer’s life for me
there’s nothing I’d rather be
playing with words is fun
reading out loud when I’m done
bringing my muse out to play
and writing this poem today.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Forever In A Dollhouse

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Forever In A Dollhouse

I am lost in my childhood dollhouse
stuck in my dreams
forever waiting for my turn
I wanted a real dollhouse
made of wood with pretty wallpaper
but I got a metal dollhouse
with a plastic family and furniture.

The sky’s a sullen shade of cyan
over the stagnant water
of my metallic pool
the sun burns itself out trying
while rust slowly accumulates
smelling just like blood.

These empty, echoing rooms
scraping by against alloy walls
covered in fake pictures and plants
numb in toxic surroundings
while black mold climbs the stamped stairway
I can’t escape this sinking feeling.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I really did have a metal dollhouse almost just like this. My artwork and animation unnamed.

Written with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads for the theme home.

Impressions Of A View

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Impressions Of A View

A base of periwinkle blue
covered with thick strokes of indigo
with smudges of power blue,
a proposal.

I accept…
watching the colors
changing hues
as they run together
catching the last rays
of light at gloaming
swirling and glowing.

Ample spring green
splashed with light green
streaks of amber
applied on top
with banana yellow
layered in bitter lime
wet colors intermingling.

A base of bistre brown
covered in burlywood
with thick almond accents
dashes of citron here and there
along with dandelion yellow
covering the ground.

A few slate gray lines
with dark greens
hinting at boundaries
between tree and landscape
an impression soon washed out
by the black of night.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This is my animation (no name.)

We are to paint a poem like an impressionist. Written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub.

The Harvest

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The Harvest

A lone figure was watching the scene unfold
as a young deer crossed the busy highway
it was a beautiful morning.

The truck swerved and disintegrated
sending shrapnel everywhere
sparks flew from scraping metal
the driver was killed instantly.

His truck slammed into a woman’s car
she barely saw it happen-too fast to react
her windshield breaking glass flying
it was the last thing she saw as she died.

Sticky warm blood leaks, drips, and pools
the smell of gasoline was strong
cooling metal making ticking sounds
dead muscles twitching.

The car was unrecognizable
tangled with the truck
the deer mutilated and decapitated
airbags were deployed but did no good
it seemed like forever sirens in the distance
the ambulance was first but the corner was called
firemen and police were busy trying to pick up the pieces.

Death was chuckling as he watched the spirits rise from the wreck
he swings his sickle wide
gathering up the dead his job done.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads giving an example of incongruity.

Amusement

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Amusement

Strapped in tight
slowly ratcheting uphill
violent accelerations
catapulted about
screaming laughter
G-force jerking
rickety wheels clattering
freefalling
arms flailing
pummeling winds
oscillating heart rates
wildly bobbing heads
sweaty fists grabbing
an emotional roller coaster
juddering…
to an end.

Amusement…
precise mechanical madness.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Writing about amusement parks with dVerse~Poets Pub. Nothing beats riding rides at a park and the emotions that bubble to the surface.

Haiku #31417

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haiku #31417

the kindness of strangers
the world relies on it-
we should not retreat

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I coded this artwork so it’s different than my usual work.

I wrote this for Gillena’s CKK Anniversary kukai 2017 (retreat), Poet’s United (the kindness of strangers), and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads (the Tuesday platform.)

Different As Night And Day

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Different As Night And Day

All the good and bad they weathered
night and daytime ruled together
then one day they had a fight
the moon got mad and shined too bright
it pushed the sun out of the way
and then decided to steal the day.

The jealous sun its anger bright
took back the daytime from the night
the Gods stepped in to end this fight
and straightened out this perilous plight
the moon felt sad the sun was lost
the sun felt bad that lines were crossed.

Now night and day ruled peacefully
while dusk and dawn meet frequently
the stars doth shine until the day
comes sauntering back to get its way
sun and moon now regulated
for all time they’re separated.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

A blast from the past shared with my friends at Poets United. I originally wrote this for a friend, Cat whom I’ve known online for over 10 years, she likes these kinds of fantasies.