The Murder

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The Murder

It was a murder
perfected and performed
flashes of black
diving after scurrying figures
nowhere to hide
the violence
silent and quick.

A high scream
pierced the autumn air
flesh torn from bone
blood gushing forth
eyes glazing
as the heart stops
extremities twitching.

When all is picked clean
the killers move on
some bodies are carried away
most are never found
all of it murder.

Some call it survival
the others-
nevermore.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I wrote this about my animated photo of crows taken on a bicycle ride.

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Morning Mostly

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Morning Mostly

Mostly mindless momentum
mirrored in myopic meanings
mediocrity maintained
making maelstrom moments
of a madcap morning.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Mornings can be fast and furious when getting out of the house for the day and I wanted to convey those feelings. For the artwork, I animated a photo of a cat yawning on a fence in front of a sunrise.

Situating Suburbia

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Surviving slippery slopes
swerving, sliding sideways
with speedometer spinning
substantial suspension stabilization
while shifting and signaling sanctimoniously
successfully situating suburbia-
sudden stop.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

This is a form I like to use called alliteration. It’s a challenge to write them so they make sense or tell a story. I’ve written a handful of them so far.

Alliteration occurs when a series of words in a row (or close to a row) have the same first consonant sound. For example, “She sells seashells down by the seashore” or “Peter Piper Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers” are both alliterative phrases. In the former, all the words start with the “s” sound, while in the later, the letter “p” takes precedence. Aside from tongue twisters, the alliteration is also used in poems, song lyrics, and even store or brand names.

My Bicycle

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My Bicycle

Everywhere I go
it goes too
it keeps me healthy
I’m never blue.

Two rubber wheels
they take me far
there’s no pollution
unlike a car.

It feels like flying
my spirit’s free
wind in my hair
the birds chase me.

It’s good for most everyone
young or gray
practice makes perfect
today’s the day!

My bicycle
can’t be outdone
it keeps me young
while having fun.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I took this selfie in a mirror window I pass by during my rides on the Bay Trail in the San Mateo, CA area. I bike 20-30 miles every other day taking photographs of nature it keeps me happy, healthy and young. If you’re interested in biking, my photos of the Bay Trail or health tips check out my website Bike With Bekkie.

Written with pleasure for my friends at Poets United. Thank you, Susan! Also linking to my friends at Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

Feeling Foolish

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A modern interpretation of the Tarot Fool card.

Feeling Foolish

A businessman balanced on the tip
took a look and then started to slip
he just couldn’t see
he was already free
if only he’d gotten a grip!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

A Limerick written for Saturdays Image Write and Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

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.