Tanka #41215 (The Fishwife)

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tanka #41215 (The Fishwife)

feeling queasy now
butterflies-out of the way
it’s not so easy
I have a belly of fish
that never stop swimming

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

Linking up an old poem with dVerse~Poets Pub that I wrote for this prompt which I animated.

Background: I had a very interesting word trip when I started this poem and I had to share it with you. When seeing this picture prompt I thought, I’ll write a poem about a woman with fish in her belly or fishbelly. Then I looked it up.

Besides the Jonah in the belly of the whale story, the white skin under a bathing suit line and normal fish bellies, I found this urban definition (2006), fishbelly: a bad name for a white caucasian person. Then I asked for other words and it gave me 20 related to fishbelly.

Honky, bad, caucasian, clit, clitoris, cracka, cracker, craka, fish, fish belly, fishbelly pussy, girl, puberty, pubic, twat, vag vagina, white, whitey, wonderbread. Wow!

If you caught the date, this word was re-defined in 2006. Now fast forward to now with Trump as president. Meanings like this aren’t going anywhere soon.

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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.

Many mysteries remain unseen
constantly changing our tiny 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 Little Things

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The Little Things

I came upon a pristine stream
clean and lined with rocks beneath
I smelled the fertile earth around
it brought to me a deep relief.

I sat a spell to ruminate
so hypnotized by water such
I spied a butterfly amused
by something it was trying to touch.

Noticing a dazzling light
a trace of colors seemed to mock
a crystal necklace beckoned me
the leather strap caught on a rock.

Chasing down that tiny sun
I wondered how it came to be
my fingers on the surface brushed
I then had an epiphany.

Memories intact I left it there
for other creatures wandering
a secret between them and me
for life’s made up of little things.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I wrote this for the prompt at Toads and at the same time, about this image. Please join me in writing for an image every Saturday starting this weekend (the 4th). You can find the prompt here at the Saturday’s Image Write link or go directly to the Blogger site where it’s being hosted. Saturday’s Image Write.

Written for Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. Sometimes you must look beyond the obvious to see the whole picture.

A Very Good Year

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A Very Good Year

The month of December has come to a close
the weather has brought a new blanket of snow
Christmas has faded from Rudolph’s red nose
looks like it’s time for the new year.

To the party we go with our friends in tow
faces aglow and dressed in our best
jollification where ever we go
looks like it’s time for the New Year.

Champagne is flowing as midnight draws near
resolutions are made as we watch the ball drop
we raise up our glasses to toast to good cheer
that this New Year, be a very good year!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2011

Here’s to wishing you, and yours, a very good year from the bottom of my heart!

The poem was published on Bekkie In Wonderland in 2011, and now again, in 2016. The cards are copies of vintage New Year cards/postcards from the Victorian Era.

Shared with Poets UnitedImaginary Garden Of Real Toads and all friends I’ve written with over the years!

About “Time-Balls”

The actual notion of a ball “dropping” to signal the passage of time dates back long before New Year’s Eve was ever celebrated in Times Square. The first “time-ball” was installed atop England’s Royal Observatory at Greenwich in 1833. This ball would drop at one o’clock every afternoon, allowing the captains of nearby ships to precisely set their chronometers (a vital navigational instrument).

Around 150 public time-balls are believed to have been installed around the world after the success at Greenwich, though few survive and still work. The tradition is carried on today in places like the United States Naval Observatory in Washington, DC, where a time-ball descends from a flagpole at noon each day – and of course, once a year in Times Square, where it marks the stroke of midnight not for a few ships’ captains, but for over one billion people watching worldwide.

About time-balls is from a Google search.

Rebirth

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Rebirth

Surfing the breeze
on a new bloom
wings drying
in the sweet sunshine
a spent chrysalis nearby
as life emerges.

Better to be
like the butterfly
spreading your wings
to a new existence
leaving behind
the old.

Becoming more.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2016

Written with Poets United. Photography by Rika Inami, animation by me.