#322020

#322020

my package delivered
box of 20 masks
made in China

© Rebecca Sanchez 2020

What a conundrum!

Advertisement

Me And Me

Me And Me

With everyone I disagreed
I never helped a friend in need
I always had to have my way
I always had the final say.

Just me, and me, and me alone
with everyone, I’ve been disowned
and now the time has come to see
I really turned my back on me.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Published here for the first time in 2018. My artwork put through filters and animated.

The End Is (Near) Here

The End Is (Near) Here

Discovering new medicines
prolonging life and more
it wasn’t enough to save us
not many could afford.

Grocery shelves were empty
nuclear reactors failed
the planet overcrowded
the toxic air inhaled.

The dumping and the oil spills
went on with no relief
it all went in the water
to percolate beneath.

”The end is near,” the soothsayer wrote
his words died where he lay
no one was left to notice
the end was here today.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I couldn’t help but write a second poem for this prompt I had so many thoughts about it. Money isn’t the only evil, we are an imperfect people with more of us born on this earth every day. I believe there will be a day of reckoning and hope it goes better than this. Written for the prompt money with my friends at Poets United.

Money

Money

Money, pays the rent
but before the month is over
all your money’s spent.

Money, not the most important thing
but if you don’t make enough
you’ll be living on a shoestring.

Money, some have it all
they’re treated like royalty
while we worship their beck and call.

Money, with it you can be president
beware of false prophets
you’ll be wondering where your money went.

Money, it’s just fancy paper
you can’t even eat it
yet it’s a world shaper.

Money, it’s something we all need
but if you can’t get a job
you cannot succeed.

Money, it doesn’t seem fair
its exhausting making ends meet
living on hope and a prayer.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Not to be confused with the Pink Floyd song, Money. Image: Google search from The Jetsons. Written for the prompt money with my friends at Poets United.

Spurned

Spurned

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
given less
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.

Deactivated

Deactivated

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.

Broken

Broken

My heart breaks when I watch what’s happening in the world today
we have truly lost our minds in America letting ourselves be treated like cattle
being herded in whatever direction the political wind blows
we’ve given up, even if it leads us to the slaughterhouse
the invisible lines that separate us are turning into Trump-like walls
our history has taught us nothing as racial tensions separate us further respect for the people that protect us is gone, replaced by mistrust fueled by violence and ignorance
men are still in power pushing their sexual agendas on their victims
keeping women under their thumb as they get less pay for the same jobs
the house and senate don’t care about the people’s will, it’s all about their own agendas
our government is corrupt, greedy and we let them get away with it
cell phones have invaded the earth and people are transfixed by them
social interaction online has taken the place of real friendship
growing homeless camps are ignored and tolerated rather than helped
we think we’re paying taxes for a good cause then the money is spent elsewhere and we’re taxed for it again
although half of the people living now are 65, they can’t work because the jobs are given to younger people
they face higher costs for living every year while the retirement age goes up and benefits get cut
we pay a fortune for insurance many going without when other countries have health care for all
even with insurance many go without glasses, dental care and more
simple kindness and decency seem lost while our jails and prisons open their doors letting felons out for good behavior
we are losing touch with each other and we don’t know who to trust letting fear paralyze us
it’s difficult to know how to proceed when the psyche of countless people in our country are bruised and we’re bleeding out
I did as I’ve been told the system has let me down and I feel taken advantage of.

Some believe the soul is immortal, even so, our bodies are limited
we’re only here once and should be enjoying what this wonderful planet has to offer
instead, this is what we sow, this is how we spend this precious time
we vote and hope for a better life only to be fed fake news and tricked into submission
country against country, race against race, religion against religion-it never ends
right now, children are starving, being raped and abused, put into slavery, taught to shoot guns and carry bombs
my heart breaks when I watch what’s happening to the people of this world,
when do we say, how do we say,
777777777777777777AAAAAAAAAAAenough!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I’m a fan of brevity in poetry but this poem practically wrote itself and could have been longer. I don’t pretend to have the answers but I do know these things are going to take more than time to get better. History will show that’s usually through violence and war. We need to be strong and make ourselves heard through numbers.

Written with my friends at Poets United for the prompt psyche/soul. I animated the artwork.