Windows

Windows

Watching me
watching you
pupils dilate-
peekaboo!

Eyes that judge
fill with tears
smiling eyes
eyes that fear.

Expressive eyes
when words may fail
kiss with a look
they tell the tale.

Showing the world
how we feel
windows to the soul
secrets revealed.

Body language
has nothing on eyes
what you see inside
can’t be denied.

© Rebecca Sanchez 372020

Written with my friends at The Sunday Muse #98 for this image prompt. While writing this I had to fight the urge to Dr. Seuss out. To be fair, I also had the David Bowie song Eyes Without A Face in my head so I’m lucky I came up with this. Lol!

 

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The Capture

The Capture

An ice crystal begins
high in the clouds
a freezing water droplet
attaching to a dust particle
as it falls back to earth
water vapor freezes
building the six arms of the snowflake
no two are alike
as they plummet
towards my open mouth
where the new snowflake
the color of water
melts on my tongue
tasting of ozone and triumph.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Source of photo: Alexey Kljatov, animation by me.

This is a “found poem” where I took a part of something I found and used it in a new poem. Yesterday was the first day of spring but some aren’t feeling it yet as the snow sticks around. Written for the prompt color with my friends at Poets United.

The Lost Masterpiece

The Lost Masterpiece

An artist surveys the picturesque scene below
picking up his brush he hesitates;

The night sky above was glorious
he’d never seen so many colors of blue
dotted with light billowy clouds
covered by a never-ending Milky Way.

A sleepy town lay in the valley
nestled between mountain peaks
joined by meadows of yellow flowers
a small sliver of moon watching over all.

The bell in the church steeple rang out
when all was quiet, an owl asked; “Who? Who?”
The artist didn’t know
his canvas as blank as his mind.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

This poem was written for a Magpie photo prompt in 2014. Shared here for the first time from Picturesque Words and linked with my friends at Poets United.

Pale Roses

Pale Roses 

Pale roses fill the air with fragrance
as I bend to make a wish in the fountain
my coin is received with a golden splash.

Brass lion heads dispense water with a roar
in this serene quintessential garden
I lay myself down in a soft bed of grass.

My breathing slows as my thoughts follow
into a meditative reverie
thoughts pass floccinaucinihilipilification.

Leisurely plucking a nearby rose for my hair
a thorn sinks deep into soft flesh
blood trickles a bright red.

Jamming my finger in my mouth
I stand and gather my wits about me
bare feet heading for the back door.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

This was originally a Magpie Tale write. I reworked the art and wrote this poem about it. I imagined myself in this garden making a wish as described above. I enjoyed having a surprise ending here, a kind of “wake up and smell the roses” (or something like that.)

Spare The Air

Spare The Air

It’s lunch hour in San Francisco on a foggy day. The sun tries to shed some light on the subject burning through the layers of car exhaust and jet streams from the nearby airport. The rush hour is in full force as drivers slowly move in lines like ants on the various freeways trying to free themselves of their cars. The local news station warns residents that it’s a Spare The Air Day.

Seated on a park bench near the bay munching on a sandwich the view is amazing. The yellow, orange and crimson streaks of color in the sky are beautiful. The sun is weaving in and out of the cloud layer making the afternoon light look magical. Without some pollution, the colors would never be quite like that. I am reminded of how a little smog can still be admired and enjoyed.

noon sun shimmers
a bayside Kodachrome moment
spare the air lunch hour

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photography by +Woojin Yu follow his work on Google+.

A haibun written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. In California, a Spare The Air Day is when the air is still and polluted to the point that making fires in fireplaces, burning garbage and other things that could add to the problem are prohibited until further notice. This is because we have very strict pollution laws. Although this picture looks like total pollution it’s mostly fog which we have a lot here. Despite my words, California has some of the best air in the US because most of our pollution goes down to the central valley.

April Crocus

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.

Kaleidoscope Moments

Kaleidoscope Moments

Perpetually fractured shapes
looping through calico consequences
rendering ordered frames of confusion
as they fall into prismatic bits
of psychedelic fodder.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This is my work, a special type of round kaleidoscope/mandala that I made up. Written for Saturdays Image Write. Thanks to all who wrote, there’s still time to join us! Shared on Tuesday with the Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.