The Door

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The Door

It was only a door
so why did I feel
such foreboding?
Surely I’ve approached
one hundred doors like it
in my lifetime.
The knocker looked heavy
and lions guarded it
with somber faces.
The door looked at me
the mail slot
a tense mouth.
A camera eyed me
blankly remote.
Was someone
already watching?

© Rebecca Sanchez 2020

Written with my friends at The Sunday Muse #100 for the photo prompt. I usually think of what the picture is and how it makes me feel. In this case, I was thinking about how the door perceived me without human contact.

Black Apple

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Black Apple

The exotic woman extended her hand
in it was a black apple
the black apple was a rarity
he had never seen one
the temptation to take it was powerful.
She took out a bejeweled knife
quickly slicing the fruit open
removing one perfect slice.
He winced as he watched the juices run
the whiteness inside the cut was erotic
it caused a strong stirring in his loins.
In an instant, he was upon her
but it wasn’t her body he dominated.
She lay dead as he examined his treasure
already the vulnerable white flesh
bruised and tasting sour.
His melancholy was ripe
as he fled defeated an utter failure.
In his passion and haste, he never found out
where to find the black apple.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2020

I used some dream meanings I found for black and apple. Written with my friends at The Sunday Muse #99 for this image prompt.

Also linking up with dVerse~Poets Pub for Meet the bar and listen to lists. I often do this for my poetry. For this image, I used a list of words from my search of dream meanings for this poem and everything dropped into place. Now I have a lot of reading to catch up with!

Romantic Keys

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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.

Masks

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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.

The Understanding

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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.

Midnight Kata 

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Midnight Kata 

It is midnight at the Dojo
and a lone figure is spotted
he moves as if on invisible strings
worked by a celestial puppeteer-
such fastidious movement.

Slowly circling, ever vigilant
as he spares with the shadows
a Praying Mantis on a leaf
watches with great concern-
in a rustle of silk, he is gone.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. The prompt is Unseen Things. My figure (who could be a Ninja) was only seen by a bug in the garden. This is my artwork I animated.

That Glass Is Half ____

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That Glass Is Half ____

When I see it, I want to say the water glass is half full
then I think about why I feel that way-
I don’t have a good answer…

I know it’s healthy to be optimistic
it’s less stressful and we live longer
I read it’s something that can be learned.

I know the answer lies deep within,
that unmeasurable amount of water mocking me
a need to please, even if it kills me.

I practice being grateful and positive
with the hopes of feeling optimistic
next time I’m presented with a glass of water.

I want to say the water glass is half full-
even when it holds spent Hydrangea blooms.
I don’t have a good answer…

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

“The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds, and the pessimist fears this is true.” ― James Branch Cabell

The image is: Still Life by Adolph de Meyer (1908)

Written with my friends at the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. I animated the image with glitter.