I Scream


I Scream

Darkness led me into sin
cause I invited Darkness in
my loneliness drove me astray
and I had thought it child’s play.

Wrapped inside his macabre wings
I heard the Darkness whispering,
”You’ll never be away from me,
with me for all eternity.”

The Darkness knew me like a glove
replacing hate where once was love
chuckling as it emptied me
drinking deep with empathy.

If I had lived the way I should
if I had stronger will I could
but Darkness won and reigns supreme
and I? I scream a mouthless scream!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Artwork from a Google search.

Written for the prompt scream with my friends at Poets United.


The End Is (Near) Here


The End Is (Near) Here

Discovering new medicines
prolonging life and more
it wasn’t enough to save us
not many could afford.

Grocery shelves were empty
nuclear reactors failed
the planet overcrowded
the toxic air inhaled.

The dumping and the oil spills
went on with no relief
it all went in the water
to percolate beneath.

”The end is near,” the soothsayer wrote
his words died where he lay
no one was left to notice
the end was here today.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I couldn’t help but write a second poem for this prompt I had so many thoughts about it. Money isn’t the only evil, we are an imperfect people with more of us born on this earth every day. I believe there will be a day of reckoning and hope it goes better than this. Written for the prompt money with my friends at Poets United.

The Creamy Center In You Melts My Hard Candy Shell


The Creamy Center In You Melts My Hard Candy Shell

I have a digital urge
saved only for you
I press the on button
zeros and ones flow
following circuit board traces
passing through logic chips
capacitors charging and discharging.

I see your face in the screens light
and there you are in High Definition
receiving you sharp and clear
streaming over Wi-Fi
your sound surrounds me fully
animated emotions run unchecked
flashing through my preferred player
initiating a protocol saved only for you.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for, and shared with my friends at Poets United. Love can take many forms, just like poetry.

Lines And Wrinkles

Lines And Wrinkles

I found a photograph
taken on my behalf
it was a moment seized
for which I’m unappeased
showing off my age
it sent me in a rage!

My eyes to me looked glazed
my wrinkled skin amazed
I hold to this belief
age causes most my grief.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for the prompt reflecting on mirrors with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. When I think of mirrors I can’t help but think of aging.




My heart breaks when I watch what’s happening in the world today
we have truly lost our minds in America letting ourselves be treated like cattle
being herded in whatever direction the political wind blows
we’ve given up, even if it leads us to the slaughterhouse
the invisible lines that separate us are turning into Trump-like walls
our history has taught us nothing as racial tensions separate us further respect for the people that protect us is gone, replaced by mistrust fueled by violence and ignorance
men are still in power pushing their sexual agendas on their victims
keeping women under their thumb as they get less pay for the same jobs
the house and senate don’t care about the people’s will, it’s all about their own agendas
our government is corrupt, greedy and we let them get away with it
cell phones have invaded the earth and people are transfixed by them
social interaction online has taken the place of real friendship
growing homeless camps are ignored and tolerated rather than helped
we think we’re paying taxes for a good cause then the money is spent elsewhere and we’re taxed for it again
although half of the people living now are 65, they can’t work because the jobs are given to younger people
they face higher costs for living every year while the retirement age goes up and benefits get cut
we pay a fortune for insurance many going without when other countries have health care for all
even with insurance many go without glasses, dental care and more
simple kindness and decency seem lost while our jails and prisons open their doors letting felons out for good behavior
we are losing touch with each other and we don’t know who to trust letting fear paralyze us
it’s difficult to know how to proceed when the psyche of countless people in our country are bruised and we’re bleeding out
I did as I’ve been told the system has let me down and I feel taken advantage of.

Some believe the soul is immortal, even so, our bodies are limited
we’re only here once and should be enjoying what this wonderful planet has to offer
instead, this is what we sow, this is how we spend this precious time
we vote and hope for a better life only to be fed fake news and tricked into submission
country against country, race against race, religion against religion-it never ends
right now, children are starving, being raped and abused, put into slavery, taught to shoot guns and carry bombs
my heart breaks when I watch what’s happening to the people of this world,
when do we say, how do we say,

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I’m a fan of brevity in poetry but this poem practically wrote itself and could have been longer. I don’t pretend to have the answers but I do know these things are going to take more than time to get better. History will show that’s usually through violence and war. We need to be strong and make ourselves heard through numbers.

Written with my friends at Poets United for the prompt psyche/soul. I animated the artwork.

Haiku #1518 and Tanka


Tanka…Nobe Okuri 野辺送り

a neighbor’s
funeral in new year week
fluffy snow flowers
from heaven
falling on his coffin…

©2018Rika Inami稲美里佳

My answer:

haiku #1518

snowflakes from heaven
a winter coat of sadness
covers his coffin

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Rika Inami is a well-known tanka poet who writes in her language and English. She takes walks in her native Japan taking photos and composing tanka about them. She’s also a friend of mine and a very sweet lady.

She posts her work daily on Google Plus and if you answer her work she’ll post it on her blog. This was my answer to her photo (above) and tanka.

Walking Through Doors


Walking Through Doors

The doorway arrived in the nick of time
at the stroke of midnight before the first fireworks
wide open, brightly illuminated and full of promise
on the brink, I took my departure.

New doors open to us throughout life
some require keys before opening
some demand a pound or two of flesh
a lesson learned, an entrance earned.

Sometimes we balk at the opening
without realizing we’re on a new threshold
like not recognizing the dawn of a new day
letting that door slam shut in our faces.

Cooling our heals in the vestibule
aware and anxious to make our emergence
an unmarked exit opens to the unknown
that first step can be a real bitch!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

So many doorways so little time. Written with my friends at Poets United for the prompt doorway(s).