Grandparent’s Garden

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Grandparent’s Garden

Straight from the garden
carrots and peas
tomatoes and green beans
I eat as I please.

Berries and veggies
don’t make me frown
raw, sweet, and crisp
best food around.

Planted with love
straight from the vine
fresh from the soil
mine all mine!

grandma and grandpa
every spring a new garden
now sowing memories

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

A prose/haiku style haibun about the best meal I ever ate with a seasonal haiku at the end written for dVerse~Poets Pub.

That would be my grandparent’s garden which us kids grazed from every summer. They always planted extra to compensate. I miss them very much.

Truth

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Truth

Dust particles dance
within a shaft of sunlight
slowly crossing the room
traveling over my body
warm and comforting
like a lovers embrace
to the mirror where I stand
contemplating my mortality
the sun has become harsh
I raise a hand in denial.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

We are writing about mirrors this Wednesday at Poets United where I’ll link up then.

Forever In A Dollhouse

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Forever In A Dollhouse

I am lost in my childhood dollhouse
stuck in my dreams
forever waiting for my turn
I wanted a real dollhouse
made of wood with pretty wallpaper
but I got a metal dollhouse
with a plastic family and furniture.

The sky’s a sullen shade of cyan
over the stagnant water
of my metallic pool
the sun burns itself out trying
while rust slowly accumulates
smelling just like blood.

These empty, echoing rooms
scraping by against alloy walls
covered in fake pictures and plants
numb in toxic surroundings
while black mold climbs the stamped stairway
I can’t escape this sinking feeling.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I really did have a metal dollhouse almost just like this. My artwork and animation unnamed.

Written with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads for the theme home.

Impressions Of A View

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Impressions Of A View

A base of periwinkle blue
covered with thick strokes of indigo
with smudges of power blue,
a proposal.

I accept…
watching the colors
changing hues
as they run together
catching the last rays
of light at gloaming
swirling and glowing.

Ample spring green
splashed with light green
streaks of amber
applied on top
with banana yellow
layered in bitter lime
wet colors intermingling.

A base of bistre brown
covered in burlywood
with thick almond accents
dashes of citron here and there
along with dandelion yellow
covering the ground.

A few slate gray lines
with dark greens
hinting at boundaries
between tree and landscape
an impression soon washed out
by the black of night.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This is my animation (no name.)

We are to paint a poem like an impressionist. Written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub.

Amusement

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Amusement

Strapped in tight
slowly ratcheting uphill
violent accelerations
catapulted about
screaming laughter
G-force jerking
rickety wheels clattering
freefalling
arms flailing
pummeling winds
oscillating heart rates
wildly bobbing heads
sweaty fists grabbing
an emotional roller coaster
juddering…
to an end.

Amusement…
precise mechanical madness.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Writing about amusement parks with dVerse~Poets Pub. Nothing beats riding rides at a park and the emotions that bubble to the surface.

Yesterday

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Yesterday

We stayed in the playhouse
that my dad built me
in the backyard near the lilac bushes
that summer in Indiana
sleeping bags on camping cots
we huddled around cold popcorn
drinking Coca-cola
under flashlights in the dark
listening to Beatles 45’s
on the portable turntable
telling ghost stories
giggling through the night
me and my friends on our own
yet tethered to the real world
by an umbilical extension cord
running from the playhouse
up to the kitchen window.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

The subject of nostalgia made me think about being a child in Michigan City, Indiana. I loved having friends stay in my playhouse in the backyard. One extension cord plug would give us power for the turntable or a light. We didn’t have cell phones, video games or much of anything yet but we had music and friendship.

The artwork is an experiment of mine called Time Warp.

Written with Poets United and shared with dVerse~Poets Pub.

Loss

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Loss

Stark raving emptiness streams
into the screaming void
I used to recognize,

as me.

My heart’s locked up tight
while loss floods me
under a raging river of uncertainty.

I choke on mouthfuls of regret
gasping for air
while floundering in the inky darkness
my mind squirming like a toad.

Those left behind
prime a minefield of hate and lies
each one taking another limb
my memories are bleeding out.

I can find no closure
leaving me,

lost.

This is about the loss of a parent and what can happen with the siblings/others left behind and how it affects them. The artwork is mine.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written with dVerse~Poets Pub.