That Glass Is Half ____

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That Glass Is Half ____

When I see it, I want to say the water glass is half full
then I think about why I feel that way-
I don’t have a good answer…

I know it’s healthy to be optimistic
it’s less stressful and we live longer
I read it’s something that can be learned.

I know the answer lies deep within,
that unmeasurable amount of water mocking me
a need to please, even if it kills me.

I practice being grateful and positive
with the hopes of feeling optimistic
next time I’m presented with a glass of water.

I want to say the water glass is half full-
even when it holds spent Hydrangea blooms.
I don’t have a good answer…

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

“The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds, and the pessimist fears this is true.” ― James Branch Cabell

The image is: Still Life by Adolph de Meyer (1908)

Written with my friends at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. I animated the image with glitter.

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They

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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.

The Dark Path

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The Dark Path

The unknown
a new way beckons
just one step
phantoms cling
they follow and won’t let go
the dark path takes me.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Artwork from a Google image search.

Today the prompt at dVerse~Poets Pub is to write a shadorma, a poem with one stanza or more, each stanza containing 6 lines with a 3-5-3-3-7-5 syllable count.

I Scream

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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

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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.

Seven Years Of Bad Luck

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Seven Years Of Bad Luck

Seven years of bad luck
I broke the mirror
and now I’m stuck
seven years of misery
a devastating history
if I could make it up I would
but now it’s done
won’t do no good
I broke the mirror
and though it sucks
it’s seven years of bad luck.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for the prompt reflecting on mirrors with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. Breaking a mirror can be a problem if that’s what you believe.

Deactivated

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Deactivated

Returning from the war I locked away my gun
put away my uniform and that part of me
I was already damaged and not quite whole
thrown back into the world with bleak uncertainty
doubt funnels through my brain like a sieve
while I sit on a slab of ebbing confusing emotions
a large oscillating wave of self-doubt pressing against me
it never leaves me even when I pretend to sleep
I feel it’s weight upon me even now as I try to speak
a cell-block encasing my heart even though I try to break free
I ask my maker every day, what will become of me?

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

The prompt was weapon and I could have added it to the poem but this (fantasy) soldier is a weapon himself, taught to both use and become a weapon. Once home, our soldiers find it hard to turn off these learned behaviors and stop the bad memories from returning home with them.

Deactivate-remove from active duty in the military.

I used the animated GIF to write my poem and found it during a Google image search.

Written with my friends at Poets United.