Romantic Keys

Romantic Keys

Going solo is never easy
he didn’t have time to orchestrate
their meeting impromptu
the right keys were struck
their lovemaking an improvisation
his technique professional-
yet expressive.

She called him a virtuoso
it was like a fantasy
he felt it was reminiscent of a song
delicate nuances were there
but he was unprepared for romance
he preferred to play solo.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2/29/2020

I looked up Frédéric Chopin (because it was on the music sheet) and seeing the beautiful woman by the piano decided to use the words I found about him and his music for a “found poem.”

Written for The Sunday Muse #97 for this image.

The Understanding

The Understanding

I know you…
that form
your many moods
how you make me feel.

I know you…
your sense of humor
your timing
your rhyme and reason.

I know you…
because our understanding
runs deep
poetry lives in me.

Poetry lives in us.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for the prompt of poems with my friends at Poets United. The image is from the Pink Floyd album Tree Of Half Life by Storm Thorgerson.

Props To dVerse Poets

Props To dVerse Poets

Mirror, mirror on the wall
who’s the fairest poet of all?
Every week we write our takes
shaping words with few mistakes
critiquing poetry with our friends
here’s to hopes it never ends.

At dVerse a prompt we share
makes me pick my words with care
busy finding vowels to play
cooking up a word buffet
tempting us to hone our muse
hungry poets on the loose.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Cheers! So happy to write with such talented people on a daily basis. I’m not sure I understood this fully but I had fun with it.

Dissecting the art of poetry with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub called  Ars Poetica form.

Word

Word

Whether poetry or stories
words are such a treasure
vintage, slang, or common use
they give me so much pleasure.

When I feel the urge to purge
the words become my voice
they come pouring out of me
sometimes I have no choice.

But I’m pleased that I’m a writer
I enjoy the undertaking
cause every writer knows
it’s not for the moneymaking.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

The image on the cube (my animation) is called “River Of Poetry” but the artist is unknown to me.

Written for the prompt treasure with my friends at Poets United.

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.

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~

Pale Roses

Pale Roses 

Pale roses fill the air with fragrance
as I bend to make a wish in the fountain
my coin is received with a golden splash.

Brass lion heads dispense water with a roar
in this serene quintessential garden
I lay myself down in a soft bed of grass.

My breathing slows as my thoughts follow
into a meditative reverie
thoughts pass floccinaucinihilipilification.

Leisurely plucking a nearby rose for my hair
a thorn sinks deep into soft flesh
blood trickles a bright red.

Jamming my finger in my mouth
I stand and gather my wits about me
bare feet heading for the back door.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

This was originally a Magpie Tale write. I reworked the art and wrote this poem about it. I imagined myself in this garden making a wish as described above. I enjoyed having a surprise ending here, a kind of “wake up and smell the roses” (or something like that.)