Lust/Love Sonnet

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Lust/Love Sonnet

I still love you after the fevered flesh has cooled
after the earth-shattering build to the summit
I’m oblivious to all else when in my frenzy
but the two of us, between sheets sublime.

I love the delirious delicious decadence of our intimacy
goosebumps on my skin when you touch me
I am certain no one will ever love me this much
then I watch my lover leave a stranger.

I love you like a dog loves to get scratched where it can’t reach
tongue exposed, slobbering and exposing myself
whimpering for more when you stop.

We never talk about our lives outside of the hotel room
rose-colored glasses are what I choose to wear
living in an altered sense of consciousness as lovers, not friends.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

The artwork is mine from a photograph taken while riding my bike put through a filter and animated.

For dVerse~Poets Pub, we were told to write a free verse sonnet. I am used to rhyming so I hope this will do. This is about a man I once thought I’d spend some time with but great sex does not a relationship, make.

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.

Pharmaceuticals

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Pharmaceuticals

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a magic potion just for me
once a day to make me chill
I take my tablets happily.

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a capsule for my aches and pains
my doctor has a special pill
for every sickness that I feign.

A pill a pill to kill my ills
a gel cap for my troubled brain
pills that rob me of my will
but next week I will still complain.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Our society has a pill for almost everything we can think of and a horrible problem with addiction. Sometimes the drug is worse than the illness and fills an emotional need rather than physical. Addiction hurts not only you but the people around you and impacts your life in a negative way. Just because they are easy to get doesn’t mean it’s ok to take them. Be strong!

Flying

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Flying

Flying
where am I?

I am traveling by your side
the sun acting as our guide
my emotions burning bright
like a scarlet sunset might
I felt lost behind this face
’till we leaped into this space
the clouds parted ways for me
now my vision’s clear, I see.

Flying
where am I?

Together
now we fly.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written with Saturdays Image Write.

The Poet’s Dilemma

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The Poet’s Dilemma

Days and nights spent crafting words to perfection
fueled by cheap whiskey and non-filtered cigarettes
cut off from the very world he writes about.

His prose clever and filled with profound images
the darling of society
everyone wanted his company
designers gave him the finest garments
he lived in a stone mansion with a beautiful wife;
but on the inside…

The poet’s soul is tinted with the blackest black
he has no words left
his muse left him with no note
empty with no more to give.

He sits in his library at his big ornate desk
the glow of the candles outlining his frown
considering the writer’s block that has silenced him
feeling lost.

He inhales, his cigarette glowing red in the dark
he opens his desk drawer to get more whiskey
his handgun next to the bottle.

He pours himself a drink
as he has done so many times before
it burns as it travels down his throat
the loss of words was killing him
destroying him!

He put the handgun to his head and pulled the trigger.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Shared with Poets United.

Safe Within

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Safe Within

I see no evil.

I keep my eyes cast down
invisible blinders moderating
every new madness broadcast,
“Watch this, you must see this, don’t miss this!”
Better not to look at all.

I speak no evil.

I have nothing more to say
staying quiet is best
one word always leads to more,
“I want, I need, I think.”
Better not to talk at all.

I hear no evil.

Mental earplugs firmly in place
blind, mute and now deaf
the only way is staying safe within.
“Why don’t you wake up and join the human race?”
I can’t hear you!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Sometimes inner voices are pushed away with the best of intentions.

Written with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads and Poets United.

The Woebegone Man

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The Woebegone Man

The woebegone man
just sits and sighs
wringing his hands
avoiding all eyes.

Too numb to feel
escaping instead
too hard to deal
rocks in his head.

A man who says yes
although he means no
yet no one would guess
’cause he doesn’t know.

Tragically depicted
he’s pale as the dead
chronically addicted
chain smoking dread.

He will never know why
depressed with no plans
no pretty blue skies
for the woebegone man.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2016

Written for dVerse~Poets Pub.