Secrets From The Soil
rest in beautifully decorated sarcophagus
some inlaid with gold and gemstones
bodies prepared with spices and care
organs put into decorated clay pots
sealed for thousands of years
until found and studied by museums
spilling secrets from the soil
causes of death and life revealed
visualizing every feature and amulet
some mummies stand naked in groups
some are left as they were found
we see the faces, foods, and belongings
of these ancient people from our past
teaching us about life while celebrating death
while death teaches us about life.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2017
Written for dVerse~Poets Pub hoping I’m not too late since it’s Wednesday! I’ve been very busy not meaning to take off weeks of writing but I’m back. Life has a way of just happening while time flies. This is my animation of an image I found for the poem. Soil brings us so many things!
Kiss Of Death
So beautiful and rare
in death a kiss so fair
it makes the corpses jealous
their eyeless sockets stare.
An eternity in your arms
my angel wings boned bare.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2015
Another blast from the past (something a little different) shared with Poets Untied. This is a wallpaper meant to be shared and had no artist information like most wallpapers found to share online.
Oh sin eater, come today
come to where my loved one lay
he was easily led astray
help him cast these stains away.
Bread and wine upon the breast
of my darling laid to rest
half a shilling paid to thee
eat this meal and set him free.
Ameliorate this funeral feast
take on the sins of my deceased
allowing them to be released
so that my love may rest in peace.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2016
Written with Magpie Tales and Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.
death waits for no one-
afterwards it’s slow going
© Rebecca Sanchez 2016
Written with Haiku Horizons and Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.
Plant Of Joy
An international symbol
of those who die in war
a symbol of peace.
So what do we fight them for?
War is the poppy of mankind
it’s a drug we can’t live without
the flower the color of blood
in empty battlefields they sprout.
We crave war’s victories
and the freedoms we think it brings
but one side has to lose
one side has to die
and it’s not the side that’s right
or the side that’s wrong
it’s the side that kills
and the side that’s strong.
No matter how long peace reins
there are always men dreaming of war
no matter how many people die
no matter what is being fought for.
War is an ungodly practice
so often done in the name of God.
Magpie Tales 293
Putrefied remains lie on shelves
a mausoleum of words and ideas
overcome by the scent of old glue
stained pages of yellowed nostalgia
displayed like teeth in a death grin.
Dog-eared threadbare hardbacks
every one of them a tiny coffin
rotting patiently for generations
silently stalking to be discovered.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2013
Shared with dVerse~Poets Pub.