Vanishing Act

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Vanishing Act

She could never keep her feet on the ground
she preferred her head above the clouds
daydreams taking her far away
leaving the cruel world behind
to others, just an empty shell
but on the inside…

She could never understand her fate
born free only to become enslaved
told when and how to feel
how to act and what to do and say
a second class citizen with a womb
expected to be a selfless caretaker of others
as if one job that pays less than a man isn’t enough.

She could never find peace in vacations
everywhere she went was the same
people controlling and questioning
lines of strangers greedy and pushing
draining her money and energy
not that any amount could unshackle her.

She could never breakout of her prison
returning to a home that wasn’t hers
“things” that belonged more than she did
a life she couldn’t bear for another instant
the heavy weight of it took her breath away
her heart crushed like so much stardust.

She could never commit suicide
despite her unhappiness with it all
so enthralled by the heavens that night
she made a decision to travel once more
plucking the evening star to wear in her hair
she decorated her robe with the milky way
wearing the rings of Saturn as her crown
a sliver of moon topped her scepter
finally, all the universe was hers alone.

Daydreams taking her far away
never, never to return.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015/2017

An old poem reworked with my animation from Magpie Tales and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. This is about women and some of the thoughts we may share about being born a woman in a man’s world. Some of us may dream of vanishing but we all know that there’s more to life. Going crazy (or suicide) is not the answer but I feel for the women who can’t deal and hope they find the help they need.

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.

Reasons

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Reasons

There are reasons for our seasons
as we watch for yearly clues
in the summer we have flowers
multicolored meadows viewed.

Then the trees turn glorious colors
dying leaves fall to the ground
before the burning bonfires end
winter’s come without a sound.

When the Crocuses start blooming
and I heed the robin’s call
spring will bring her wondrous renewal.
Good reasons for us all.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

I wanted to write a poem about the seasons while naming them within the poem. There were a few versions of this before I finally got the words the way I wanted them and I’m happy with the way it turned out.

A past musing shared with my friends at Poets United.

Pharmaceuticals

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Pharmaceuticals

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a magic potion just for me
once a day to make me chill
I take my tablets happily.

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a capsule for my aches and pains
my doctor has a special pill
for every sickness that I feign.

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a gel cap for my troubled brain
pills that rob me of my will
but next week I will still complain.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Our society has a pill for almost everything we can think of and a horrible problem with addiction. Sometimes the drug is worse than the illness and fills an emotional need rather than physical. Addiction hurts not only you but the people around you and impacts your life in a negative way. Just because they are easy to get doesn’t mean it’s ok to take them. Be strong!

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.

The Harvest

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The Harvest

A lone figure was watching the scene unfold
as a young deer crossed the busy highway
it was a beautiful morning.

The truck swerved and disintegrated
sending shrapnel everywhere
sparks flew from scraping metal
the driver was killed instantly.

His truck slammed into a woman’s car
she barely saw it happen-too fast to react
her windshield breaking glass flying
it was the last thing she saw as she died.

Sticky warm blood leaks, drips, and pools
the smell of gasoline was strong
cooling metal making ticking sounds
dead muscles twitching.

The car was unrecognizable
tangled with the truck
the deer mutilated and decapitated
airbags were deployed but did no good
it seemed like forever sirens in the distance
the ambulance was first but the corner was called
firemen and police were busy trying to pick up the pieces.

Death was chuckling as he watched the spirits rise from the wreck
he swings his sickle wide
gathering up the dead his job done.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads giving an example of incongruity.