These Moments I Hold Dear
It’s these moments I hold dear
the warm sunshine on my skin
rolling away the passing years.
On my face you’ll find a grin
as nature heals my many ills
I find a wonderful peace within.
I will never have my fill
of watching wetlands as I glide
up and down the bayside hills.
My vintage bicycle as my guide
in the saddle time does fly
but I grow younger as I ride.
Rolling away the passing years
it’s these moments I hold dear.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
The photo was taken on a bike ride and I put it through an art filter.
Wrote a terza rima for the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Linking up with my friends at Poets United. A few days late (although I had the poem done on time) but am finally linking it today after getting over my bad sinus infection. Gave me a chance to link with both groups!
Yes, the world
run by men
hasn’t been kind to me.
If I want something
like equal pay
fair work practices
or unbiased treatment in general
I get shrugged off
like a second,
or third thought.
I’m allowed to live with them
vote and pay taxes with them
have children with them
told I’m one of them
but behind closed doors
in secret meetings
and the White House…
Heck, right to my face
it never changes
my rights are spurned
taken away, ignored
I’m told what to do with my body
when so much is expected of me.
It’s like I don’t have the right sticker
to enter their nightclub
no amount of money
or the right designer labels
will ever do
I’m one of the people who
won’t get in.
I have always been
under someone’s thumb
sometimes I don’t even know them
they watch what I have
and take what they want.
And here I come
running like an ignoramus
clutching my last rights to my chest
better have the correct documents
out of breath and limping…
I keep what little is left
I make the best of it
I don’t have to like it.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
I animated this artwork found through a Google image search. The search only brings up Standford University and no artist. As a woman, this is the only way I know.
Written and shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub for open link night.
Standing at the graveside I smell loss
the warm Autumn day turned damp
as the fog danced and swirled about
like ghosts of the past encircling
grieving relatives rend their garments
weeping openly while the children
huddle at their feet.
The rain fell harder
tapping on my shoulders
each drop reminding me
he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2013
This poem was written about this picture prompt.
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.
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.
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~
Can you read my Tshirt?
Hello, my friends!
I’ve been riding my bicycle daily while taking photographs of my surroundings on the San Francisco Bay. I use my photos for my art and writing. The bike riding has been so nice the past few months it just began to get cold here in California. It feels a lot like Christmas today and I’m preparing to go on a Christmas Day ride with my long-time friend and roommate James.
I’ve missed you all and will be back next year to write. If anything, I am coming back rejuvenated and ready for the new year. I’m lucky enough to enjoy my biking year round and it keeps me fit and happy.
Merry Christmas my friends! My many “looks” as I do enjoy dressing for the ride. You can see how the weather has changed my looks.
I want to say Merry Christmas to my friends at Poets United, Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, and dVerse~Poets Pub I hope it was enjoyable. Merry Xmas to Haiku Horizons and the other places I drop into sometimes!
Thanks, dVerse~Poets Pub for including me in your analogy I hope to afford to buy one soon! I can’t wait to read more of the free version. My very first time in a book. It makes it real, you know?
Some of you I’ve known since Magpie Tales which was the beginning of linking with groups for me. Tess was a fun person and every week her boyfriend would read her poem for us. Tess had some “events” at her mansion and it was a memorable time. Tess Kincaid is doing well and living out a fairy tale ending in the UK with her “English Man.”
While writing in that group, people spread out to the above-mentioned groups and beyond. It’s nice to know we’re all as close as WordPress and Blogger moving in the same circles. We’re an impressive international group of writers I’m proud to be part of.
Merry Christmas friends! Enjoy it, the new year cometh and changes are afoot!