Sloth Personified

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“Sloth makes man powerless and dries out the nerves until man is good for nothing.” The Personification Of Sloth (shown, as a badly-dressed woman resting on an ass.)

Sloth features an assortment of fantastic creatures and a confused arrangement of hybrid structures reminiscent of Bosch’s work.

I like to think my poem is about how Sloth lives.

Sloth Personified

Dirty wrinkled sheets on an empty bed
the room an overflowing ashtray
reading materials litter the floor
along with containers of putrefied food
I’m used to the smell.

Hallways haphazardly cluttered
walking on top of the shifting heap
windows and doors long blocked
bathroom flooded in feces and filth
fly’s going through their life cycle in the kitchen.

Resting my weight on stacks of old magazines
lit up by the blue light of the phone screen
wine gives everything a rosy glow
trolling Instagram and nibbling on canned peaches
wondering where the cat went.

Come to think of it, I had 2 cats!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

About the artwork: Representing the vice of sloth, this image belongs to a series of prints of the Seven Deadly Sins, engraved by Pieter van der Heyden after drawings by Pieter Bruegel the Elder. The personification of sloth, a shabbily dressed woman, demonstratively sleeps away the time in the central foreground, resting her weight on the back of an ass. The various examples of lazy or slothful behavior, in evidence in the surrounding landscape, colorfully demonstrate the message of the inscription. (Seen with photo above.)

Written for the prompt virture or vice at the Imanginary Garden With Real Toads. I picked sloth.

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Unique

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Unique

I like you cause you’re funny
intelligent and kind
good looking and hardworking
so distinctive, so refined.

I like you cause you’re honest
irreplaceable and rare
an exceptional type of person
the one who always cares.

I like you cause you’re different
it’s part of your mystique
you are just one of those people
so refreshingly unique.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Today is open link night at dVerse~Poets Pub and I’m sharing an older poem that could well be a greeting card for a friend. The image is an animation from a Google search.

Tanaga #31018

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Tanaga #31018

Let’s have some fun with a pun
laugh like a son-of-a-gun
make with an oxymoron
depends on the trip your-on.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

This was great fun to write! The artwork is mine called The Calm.

Writing a Tanaga with the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub Saturday.

Lines And Wrinkles

Lines And Wrinkles

I found a photograph
taken on my behalf
it was a moment seized
for which I’m unappeased
showing off my age
it sent me in a rage!

My eyes to me looked glazed
my wrinkled skin amazed
I hold to this belief
age causes most my grief.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written for the prompt reflecting on mirrors with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. When I think of mirrors I can’t help but think of aging.

Spurned

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Spurned

Yes, the world
run by men
hasn’t been kind to me.

If I want something
like equal pay
fair work practices
or unbiased treatment in general
I get shrugged off
like a second,
or third thought.

I’m allowed to live with them
vote and pay taxes with them
have children with them
told I’m one of them
but behind closed doors
in secret meetings
and the White House…

Heck, right to my face
it never changes
my rights are spurned
taken away, ignored
I’m told what to do with my body
given less
when so much is expected of me.

It’s like I don’t have the right sticker
to enter their nightclub
no amount of money
or the right designer labels
will ever do
I’m one of the people who
won’t get in.

I have always been
under someone’s thumb
sometimes I don’t even know them
they watch what I have
and take what they want.

And here I come
running like an ignoramus
clutching my last rights to my chest
better have the correct documents
out of breath and limping…

I keep what little is left
I make the best of it
I don’t have to like it.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I animated this artwork found through a Google image search. The search only brings up Standford University and no artist. As a woman, this is the only way I know.

Written and shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub for open link night.

Keep It Complicated

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Keep It Complicated

A complicated man keeps it complicated
a silver-tongued devil come to play
crafts his stories to keep them guessing
won’t let words get in his way.

A complicated man likes his chaos
always up for something new
waging war on those who question
the exciting things he wants to do.

A complicated man will have it his way
charming them, so they can’t tell
doesn’t care whose lives he’s changing
smiling as he drops his bombshells.

A complicated man keeps it confusing
you’ll never know what’s on his mind
keeping it simple is simply boring
sometimes the blind, does lead the blind.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. The prompt was to pick a poem and answer it with a new poem in the same style. Say Something Simple is the poem I picked and Keep It Complicated is my answer.

Say Something Simple

A simple man keeps things simple
starts with a letter makes a word
extends a sentence to a paragraph
makes one fly off like a bird

A simple man likes to be at peace
always at ease collective and calm
not letting anyone ruffle him
turning it all to be a healing balm

A simple man is a real economiser
making sure nothing is a waste
so everything is used to the full
adding a flavour to make it taste

A simple man likes not to elaborate
for some people just can’t understand
so keeping it simple is always safe
for many heads get stuck in the sand!

Copyright © Gordon McConnell | Year Posted 2018
From Poetry Soup

Words

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Words

Words were spoken
that can’t be taken back
that day of discovery.
Collapsing under pride
they tumbled right out
along with hard feelings
splashing into pools of deceit.

I crumble under pressure
as I struggle
for the right words.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Published here for the first time from Picturesque Words. The quote was found in a Google image search author unknown.