Tanaga #31018


Tanaga #31018

Let’s have some fun with a pun
laugh like a son-of-a-gun
make with an oxymoron
depends on the trip your-on.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

This was great fun to write! The artwork is mine called The Calm.

Writing a Tanaga with the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub Saturday.


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.

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.

A Few Choice Words


A Few Choice Words

Dreaming of finished work
and waking up to a blank page
the wordsmith wonders
can she do them justice?

Stanzas fueled by nicotine
crafting syllables into emotions
evoking unfamiliar feelings
while discovering new words.

Coffee rings on the desk
making a daisy chain of sorts…
Finishing a particularly nice couplet
a literary work of rhymes.

Or not.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I animated this image from Google search.

Written with my friends at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. I, like Magaly, like to write more than poetry. On Postcard Fiction I write flash fiction (short stories that use the reader’s imagination) and on Bike With Bekkie, I write regular blog stories about health and such. Then I have 2 more sites (one private) where I write occasionally. Words and bicycles are my main pursuits these days.

This prompt spoke to me because I love words and the satisfaction they bring me whether read or written. Yet I think we all wish we could write a few choice words from time to time.

Words are so cathartic, cleansing, entertaining, and yes, healing.

Too Many Thoughts


Too Many Thoughts

Slumbering in my bed
when suddenly I’m awake
I want to go to sleep
but now it’s just too late.

I hate when I can’t sleep
the things that cross my mind
the creeping thoughts intrude
I need an interlude.

Once my mind wakes up
the body has to follow
so here I sit alone
trying to write this poem.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Writing about insomnia with my friends at Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. I used to have insomnia but I learned how to sleep better. This poem tells of a time when I used to get up and try to do something constructive when I couldn’t sleep. I read about how to sleep last year and found out it was something I had to work at like anything else worth doing in my life. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Tuesday Lost


Tuesday Lost

I woke up this Tuesday
it was foggy and gray
local news was boring
my cat was snoring
nobody around
there was not a sound
so I looked outside
as I tried to decide
just what I could do
on a day so blue.

Coffee broke my fast
but that didn’t last
fatigued to doom
I retired to my room
I picked up a book
to take a look,
“Beware,” it read,
“this will go to your head.”

I woke up this Tuesday
instead, it was Wednesday
just around dawn
as time had crept on
a most tedious day
literally slept away.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

Sharing this poem from the past with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads on a Tuesday much like the one I wrote about in 2015. Photography of San Francisco under the weather by Gary Lo.

I want to ride my bike but the weather has been foggy and very windy for days on end. I anxiously wait for the wind to calm down in the mornings so I can enjoy my rides. Biking on the San Francisco Bay trails is a real downer when riding for miles into the wind.




We’re different it’s plain to see
if you say why I say I don’t know
I say it’s you, you say it’s me
if I say stay then you just go.

If I see you and say hello
you look at me and say goodbye
if I say high, then you say low
all I can ask is why, oh why?

I tell you yes, you say oh no
why must it always be this way?
When I say fast then you go slow
I say good-night you say good-day.

I don’t know why you say goodbye
our conversations make me cry.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Writing an English pop sonnet based on a popular song from my past with dVerse~Poets Pub. This band was very popular in the 60’s and I’d like you to guess but the answer is here. The artwork is one of my animations untitled.