World Under My Wheels

World Under My Wheels

The world runs under my wheels
I watch it go by from my saddle
north, south, east, west
I ride whichever way I feel.

My peddling is rhythmic and even
like meditation, it moves me
from here to there I fly
I concentrate on my breathing.

My bicycle makes me feel blest
it doesn’t pollute or damage
people smile as they watch me pass
and I smile back refreshed.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2020

Written for my friends at earthweal open link weekend #11. I decided on an upbeat new poem about something that always cheers me up.

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Senryu #242020

The news is filled with stories about disappearing species. As species die and people crowd to see the last ones, we end up wiping out the rest of them and their habitats along with other species who happen to be in the way.  How can we be so arrogant to not consider this or anything else we do as a race to this planet? We are the creatures with the most developed brains but what do we do? We want what we want and to hell with whatever gets in our way.

big brains
bigger footprints
biggest ego

© Rebecca Sanchez 2020

A person photographing the stars also shows the movement of fireflies on a summer night. From Giphy.

I wrote this after reading about Fireflies and their habitats disappearing due to light pollution and encroachment.

Masks

Masks

We all hide behind masks
cowering from our vulnerabilities
steeped in our inabilities.
If someone catches a white lie
or a small truth
another mask is born.

When we want to look our best
with wrinkles and imperfections gone
hiding from the realities of it all
another kind of mask comes into play.

When we love someone deeply
effortlessly we slip the mask
so sweetly we part the sheets
together we discover the divine truth.

But the moment it’s revealed
we retreat back to what we know best
the mask firmly back in place.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

We wear many masks during our lifetimes. How many people can you say know the real you? We don’t mean to hide but life can be very trying to say the least. Love does not guarantee that you see beneath the mask.

Great Escape

Great Escape

Squat
down
searching…
a way out.
New translucent wings
skillfully added to my back
aids my imaginative escape off of this page.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015/2018

A Fibonacci written in the past for Magpie Tales, animated by me.

The Town Of Yore

The Town Of Yore

Brown brick buildings
lining the lane between
the path overbear
by feet too many to count.

It’s gloaming time
the walkways forlorn
encompassing the town
empty but for a toss-pot.

The town of yore waits
for dark to hearken it’s history
echoes of remembrance lurking in stone
if only we could hear them.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I animated this image from Google search of the town of Yore in the UK. A toss-pot is a drunk, and gloaming is another word for twilight.

Written with dVerse~Poets Pub for the prompt urban renewal. This is a place I just picked, I’ve never been. It’s a very old town with lots of history. One day I would love to visit the UK or just get to go overseas.

The Dark Path

The Dark Path

The unknown
a new way beckons
just one step
phantoms cling
they follow and won’t let go
the dark path takes me.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Artwork from a Google image search.

Today the prompt at dVerse~Poets Pub is to write a shadorma, a poem with one stanza or more, each stanza containing 6 lines with a 3-5-3-3-7-5 syllable count.

These Moments I Hold Dear

These Moments I Hold Dear

Rolling away the passing years
it’s these moments I hold dear.

I will never have my fill
of watching wetlands as I glide
up and down the bayside hills.

My vintage bicycle as my guide
in the saddle time does fly
but I grow younger as I ride.

On my face you’ll find a grin
as nature heals my many ills
I find a wonderful peace within.

I feel renewed, I feel revived
all negativity left behind
I feel so good to be alive.

Rolling away the passing years
it’s these moments I hold dear.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

The photo was taken on a bike ride and I put it through an art filter.

Wrote a terza rima with the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Linking up with my friends at Poets United.