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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Under Summer Skies

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Under Summer Skies

Under summer skies we played
fair and blue on Warrington Lake
we jumped in waters stained with clouds
swam through lily pads out to the raft
leaped into the cold and deep
muck sucking at our feet
while fish nibbled at our white skin
giggling and screaming all the while
of course, someone would always cry
later on forgetting why
for memories are always kind that way
when the family meets for summer play.

Hiking ’round the lake for fun
picking winterberries and wildflowers
while watching for bears
changing clothes with biting horseflies
lake perch that grandpa caught
with bread and fresh blueberries
this and more I do remember
wonderful times I’ll treasure forever
for memories are always kind that way
when the family meets for summer play.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

Thank you, everyone, for the summer skies and fun back then! Love always, Bekkie

Written for my family (you know who you are) in memory of my cousin Jay Banasyznski who passed away recently. I was happy to see him 2 years ago at the wedding after not seeing him for 40 plus years. When I think of him now I picture him as an always smiling big kid, like when I last saw him most.

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Jay really hasn’t changed much here. Jay (left) and Uncle Gene (right) at the wedding. I took the picture of Warrington Lake on this visit to Uncle Gene’s place. Love you.

Written for the prompt summer with my friends at Poets United.

Egg-cellent

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Egg-cellent

There’s a treat that egg-sists
that brings such happiness
egg-actly what kind
(cause I can read your mind.)
So please let me egg-plain
it’s egg-cellent for your brain
with tryptophan within
and protein for good skin
an egg will make you smile
egg-streamly worthwhile.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2018

I believe breakfast is the most important meal of the day for our bodies and keeps us going all morning. Eggs got a bad rap in the past but we now know that eggs should be a healthy part of our daily diets.

Writing a Quadrille this week for the prompt egg with dVerse~Poets Pub. The words with egg in them are counted as one word.

Grandparent’s Garden

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Grandparent’s Garden

Straight from the garden
carrots and peas
tomatoes and green beans
I eat as I please.

Berries and veggies
don’t make me frown
raw, sweet, and crisp
best food around.

Planted with love
straight from the vine
fresh from the soil
mine all mine!

grandma and grandpa
every spring a new garden
now sowing memories

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for dVerse~Poets Pub.

That would be my grandparent’s garden which us kids grazed from every summer. They always planted extra to compensate. I miss them very much.

Wonder Woman

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Wonder Woman

She can wash the clothes and hang ’em on the line
she can dress the children and make ’em shine
she feeds the pets and cares for you
yet he’s the one who wears the shoes.

She can look real pretty-she cleans up nice
you never have to ask her twice
her cooking wins at the country fair
yet he’s the one who drives her there.

She’s a real wonder woman she does it all
she does it all at his beck and call
empty inside, it pains me to say
this wonder woman has lost her way.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This picture reminds me of that song, “He brings home the bacon, she fries it up in a pan”, and then something about her man. A real balancing act, keep it up or fall!

My mother’s marriage (the 50’s) and her friends had husbands like this, talented women who gave it all up for marriage and kids. Even today women do it, I did this somewhat myself (the giving up of my career without the kids) and still have a little regret about it now. Today I am older, single and wiser; I like it that way.

Written with Saturdays Image Write and Poets United.

Fish Heads

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Fish Heads

Fish Head Sale-
there she was under glass
her large puckered mouth
begging to be kissed by lemons
tasting of brine salt
could dry up a man’s mouth
in mid-sentence.

She was cold as a fish
but lovelier than thou
in her scaly sequins
she looked tasty
but she would only be good
properly seasoned.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

A poem with 55 words exactly.

Written with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads and Saturday’s Image Write.

Life Is No Picnic

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Life Is No Picnic

Some people say
life is no picnic
I disagree.

You spread your blanket in a nice place
lay out the small feast
hope for good weather
look forward to the food.

A layer between you and the ground
the blanket is security
protection and comfort
hopefully, it doesn’t have any holes.

The weather can change
in just minutes
thunder clouds rolling in
complications arise
you are powerless to change it
can’t fight the elements.

Food is emotional and sexy
pleasurable and addictive
it feeds your most inner being
all before it enters your belly
sometimes it doesn’t agree with you.

Then the bugs come
they sting and bite
at the very least they attack your food
they crawl all over your picnic
quite uncomfortable
don’t bug me
isn’t enough.

Some people say
life is no picnic
I disagree.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2016

Written with Poets United and sharing with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.