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.

Seven Years Of Bad Luck

myphoto (2)_thumb[4]

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.



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.




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.

Beauty And The Beast


Beauty And The Beast

Morning sunlight cuts through the night before
filters through bent and busted window blinds
as I lay watching
dust particles swirl through golden shafts of light
with one eye swollen shut
they flicker like fireflies
I used to catch and put in jars
I too, feel trapped
as I lay stunned and broken on the floor.

A beer bottle whizzes by
shattering my idyllic daydreams
glass shards glittering as they fly
cutting reminders of happier times
when I thought this beauty
had married a wonderful prince.

Blood stains and holes in the walls
the beast lurches out of the darkness
I tense and wait…

On days like this…
he tells me I never looked more beautiful.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

This is a photo prompt from the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and what it made me think of. The photo is Firefly by George Seeley (1907). I’m pleased to find a photo prompt at Toads and hope to see more in the future. I threw in the name of the photo in my dark poem just because.

Spoken Words


Spoken Words

Performed live for a hungry crowd || poetry spoken, read aloud
written words turned into sound || voices raised in prose astound
rhymes and stories rein sublime || my heart is beating overtime
I struggle to bring my muse alive || by spoken words that I provide.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

photograph/animation represents the spotlight on stage © Rebecca Sanchez, San Francisco Bay Trail

I wrote this about my experience reciting poems years ago at a short-lived medical marijuana club in San Francisco. It was a huge 3 story building on Market Street right downtown. The guy running the club was running for mayor at the time.

The bottom floor was for intake with a paraphernalia shop, the second edibles, and the top floor was for buying, lounging and smoking pot. Alcohol was not allowed or tolerated.

Anyone could perform on the stage. I was lucky to spend some time there soaking up the atmosphere with some friends and we all performed. Most-played music but I read a few of my poems. It was terrifying, I’m not fond of the sound of my voice.

Pot became legal here Jan, 1st and there’s talk of clubs opening in SF based on this historical pot club.

Written and shared in 2014 (hence, the prior comments) and reworked in 2018 to link with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub while using caesuras (||) in poetry. Hope I understood this prompt.

The reading is new at Bjorn’s invitation although I’m still unconfortable and out of practice. It took 3 tries just to get here. ~nervous laughter~