Almost

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Almost

It was about time
relatively close
approximately there
around the last minute
practically here
essentially finished
virtually in effect
close enough to smell
as good as done
all but answered
within an inch
 666666666666666666almost….

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for the Peninsula Poetry Corner tonight in Menlo Park (found through the MeetUp app.) Prompt is “almost.”

Too Many Thoughts

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Too Many Thoughts

Slumbering in my bed
when suddenly I’m awake
I want to go to sleep
but now it’s just too late.

I hate when I can’t sleep
the things that cross my mind
the creeping thoughts intrude
I need an interlude.

Once my mind wakes up
the body has to follow
so here I sit alone
trying to write this poem.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Writing about insomnia with my friends at Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. I used to have insomnia but I learned how to sleep better. This poem tells of a time when I used to get up and try to do something constructive when I couldn’t sleep. I read about how to sleep last year and found out it was something I had to work at like anything else worth doing in my life. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Tuesday Lost

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Tuesday Lost

I woke up this Tuesday
it was foggy and gray
local news was boring
my cat was snoring
nobody around
there was not a sound
so I looked outside
as I tried to decide
just what I could do
on a day so blue.

Coffee broke my fast
but that didn’t last
fatigued to doom
I retired to my room
I picked up a book
to take a look,
“Beware,” it read,
“this will go to your head.”

I woke up this Tuesday
instead, it was Wednesday
just around dawn
as time had crept on
a most tedious day
literally slept away.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

Sharing this poem from the past with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads on a Tuesday much like the one I wrote about in 2015. Photography of San Francisco under the weather by Gary Lo.

I want to ride my bike but the weather has been foggy and very windy for days on end. I anxiously wait for the wind to calm down in the mornings so I can enjoy my rides. Biking on the San Francisco Bay trails is a real downer when riding for miles into the wind.

Cake

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Cake

I was told there would be cake
a delicious flavor just for me
yet I grow tired of lingering
I’m crumbling into pieces
my life stale and tasteless.

I was told there would be cake
yet I find no sweet treat today
my kitchen sits spotless awaiting
the glorious gooey sticky mess.
Will I ever find that recipe again?

I was told there would be cake
as the years go by the craving grows
sitting alone at a table set for one
wondering if I’ll be left
holding an empty plate.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Picking a protest sign to write about linking with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads. Divorced twice with no children I still dream of finding that special man to share the rest of my life with. That would take the cake and be sweet indeed.

Old Library Book

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Old Library Book

Words in binding
fact reminding
maybe rhyming
perfect timing
plot defining
how-to guiding
new word finding
worlds unwinding
masterminding.

The End-I’m smiling!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

My first experience with books was in the library at my grade school. I think I read every book they had about horses. Of course in class, it was Fun With Dick And Jane. Libraries have changed through the years but they still hold countless stories, art, poetry, history, and more. All you need is a library card and it’s yours for the taking. Don’t forget to return your book!

The artwork is Storybook by Schnette on Deviantart. Linked with Poets United.

Hitler’s Bathtub

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Hitler’s Bathtub

I dreamed I took a bath in Hitler’s bathtub
he told me it would be better than taking a shower
I got a fluffy towel instead of an unmarked grave.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

War correspondent Lee Miller taking a bath in Hitler’s own bathtub, inside his abandoned apartment. The photo was taken on the same day that Hitler committed suicide. Munich, Germany – April 30, 1945. I got this image from a Google image search wrote about and animated it.

Written for the prompt irony at dVerse~Poets Pub.

Silver Dollar Moon

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Silver Dollar Moon

Like a silver dollar
******************hanging low in the sky
the full moon tetters
*******************on the brink
balancing
*********on the waters edge
in moments
***********it will fall and sink.

 

One last thought
****************heavy it did weigh
if only to be a balloon
*********************gently floating away.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

A 44-word Quadrille written for dVerse~Poets Pub using the word balloon. Thank you to WHIMSYGIZMO who helped me space this poem. Big hug!