Still

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Still

Reasoning gone
I sit in my terror
crushing problems
suffocating me.

I sit still.

Too tired to try
I sit in this dump
it’s never enough
always my fault.

Still, I sit.

Everything ruined
I sit enraged
anger unhinged
I want to break it!

I sit still.

I’m so dumb
I sit in my filth
steeped in hate
deep in my dread-

still.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Even though I wrote this in 2013 it applies to today. This world is shocking us more every day as these historical times beat us down. It’s easy to feel there is nowhere to turn and no goodness left. With a president like Trump, the people are divided and fearful. To be fair, Trump didn’t start the problems we have but him getting elected just proved to me (once again) that our system doesn’t work. In my lifetime of voting, I have never been happy with the results. Even if the people I voted for got elected they never got anything done. Promises are always broken and I pay for more today than ever. Being a woman, I make less than men and am expected to ignore that fact and carry on. WTF!???  We are the only country that doesn’t have a healthcare system for everyone. People don’t get to keep their teeth or see clearly because these aren’t always covered under insurance. That is insane! We are overbuilding on land we shouldn’t be building on in the first place (maybe we wouldn’t have so many floods) and none of the new housing is for the middle-class or poor. Endangered animals can be killed because we need the land. Most of the problems we are having in this country are due to our horrible, greedy, rich government officials who get fatter pork bellies daily by screwing the majority of its citizens. Republicans have the majority and what has happened? Nothing! They don’t want to do their highly paid jobs. I think we should get rid of this system and the deadbeats in it and rebuild our government for the real good of the people. Get rid of them and we may have a chance to do some really great things in America.

Let’s stop pointing fingers and fighting each other. Aren’t we over color and race in 2017? Bullying other people and feeling superior to them? This petty shit has got to stop we are ALL getting screwed. We need to come together as Americans and protest TOGETHER. This is how they keep us knuckled under!! This is why the terrorists can get to us so easily. Of course, what do I know?

Written for the prompt “howl your poetry into my bones” with my friends at the Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads.

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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 on a Google image search author unknown.

The Reveal

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The Reveal

Don’t look now-

I’m invisible!

I know you can see me
but I have made myself very small
I’m hardly here at all.

Look at me now-

I only reveal what is there!

Whatever it is
it can’t affect me
you will see.

Don’t look now-

I’m a freak!

I can only hope to hide
I can’t conform
I will never be the norm.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

Shared with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. My artwork and a poem from the past.

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.

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.

The Twist

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The Twist

I took the bait
a twist of fate
there was too much
heaped on my plate
it’s now too late
to clean the slate
the twist it made
me turn to hate.
A real bad trait
I’m that low-rate
in a terrible state.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2016

Written with dVerse~Poets Pub.

Exposed

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Exposed

Losing face…exposed!
I once again compose this weak flesh
into something impenetrable
as I construct my new disguise.
Hammering smooth the offending lines
mouth set just so-
eyes placed to hoodwink
the thickness of my skin gauged.
Confident of the mask
feeling somewhat copasetic.

© Rebekka Sanchez 2015

Shared with Poets United.