River Revival
Rest your troubles by the water
when your whole world goes astray
just enjoy the trip down river
as your troubles wash away.
Dragonflies dance on the surface
as the fish bob up to feed
watch the ripples moving outward
and forget about your needs.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2013
Artist unknown.
Trying to join in writing and sharing poetry again with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub for open link day. Took some time off and trying to get back into it with a share from the past.
Synaptic Self
I am my synaptic self
my synapses are me
they have the nerve
they make the connections
they are the “who” in me.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2013
“You are your synapses. They are who you are.” Joseph LeDoux
This was a found poem written about our synapses and what this guy (who studied them) said about them. I just found it interesting that this chemical reaction makes us who we are.
Day Of Discovery
that day of discovery
waiting in line to change-
back into myself
© Rebecca Sanchez 2015
Not really a senryu, meant to be micro-poetry, hence the title. I animated the artwork I wrote it about for fun.
For anyone reading this Past Musing (thank you, BTW,) I took a long break from writing recently. Either you know this because I used to write with you or you don’t because you’re just visiting. I’m going to ease back into writing real soon but first I have some old work to clean up and transfer here from a site I’m shutting down. Chances are you have never seen the work I’m transferring so check it out. New (fresh) work coming soon. Hugs all around!
Enigmatic Me
Forever is a long time
tomorrow never comes
yesterday is so far away
I waste my time
and that’s a crime.
Destiny goes unfulfilled
the shape of things to come
the lottery is never won
fate knows the score
forevermore.
My lifeline tells me nota
my fortune can’t be rushed
good things take time
to ascertain
so an enigma I’ll remain.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
nota=slang for nothing
My life remains a puzzle slowly coming together with pieces bent and missing that may be lost for good. How would I know?
Sharing a poem of choice with my friends at Poets United.
“Sloth makes man powerless and dries out the nerves until man is good for nothing.” The Personification Of Sloth (shown, as a badly-dressed woman resting on an ass.)
Sloth features an assortment of fantastic creatures and a confused arrangement of hybrid structures reminiscent of Bosch’s work.
I like to think my poem is about how Sloth lives.
Sloth Personified
Dirty wrinkled sheets on an empty bed
the room an overflowing ashtray
reading materials litter the floor
along with containers of putrefied food
I’m used to the smell.
Hallways haphazardly cluttered
walking on top of the shifting heap
windows and doors long blocked
bathroom flooded in feces and filth
fly’s going through their life cycle in the kitchen.
Resting my weight on stacks of old magazines
lit up by the blue light of the phone screen
wine gives everything a rosy glow
trolling Instagram and nibbling on canned peaches
wondering where the cat went.
Come to think of it, I had 2 cats!
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
About the artwork: Representing the vice of sloth, this image belongs to a series of prints of the Seven Deadly Sins, engraved by Pieter van der Heyden after drawings by Pieter Bruegel the Elder. The personification of sloth, a shabbily dressed woman, demonstratively sleeps away the time in the central foreground, resting her weight on the back of an ass. The various examples of lazy or slothful behavior, in evidence in the surrounding landscape, colorfully demonstrate the message of the inscription. (Seen with photo above.)
Written for the prompt virture or vice at the Imanginary Garden With Real Toads. I picked sloth.
They
They || always have the last say
they || said so
they || are experts in every field
they || have it better than you
they || have what you want
they || know it all
they || know when you are sleeping
they || know when you’re awake
they || have it all figured out
they || always know the right words
they || always win
they || told me to do it
they || make the rules
they || are reading this now.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
It’s always about “they” but who, or what are they?
Written for open link at dVerse~Poets Pub.
Dead Asleep
Every night
my bed
is like a coffin
my body lies dead
asleep
in wait for my demise.
Daylight puddles
near the windowpane
spilling
into the room
splashing
over my face
caught
in a death mask.
Seconds pass
my face
softens
awareness returns
with random thoughts
cobwebs of dreams
swept clean
my eyes
open.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
Sleep is so much like death, I often think about it.
The artwork, A Matter Of Life And Death by Fay Collins is the prompt for today at dVerse~Poets Pub.
Capricious Poet 