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.

Pale Roses

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Pale Roses 

Pale roses fill the air with fragrance
as I bend to make a wish in the fountain
my coin is received with a golden splash.

Brass lion heads dispense water with a roar
in this serene quintessential garden
I lay myself down in a soft bed of grass.

My breathing slows as my thoughts follow
into a meditative reverie
thoughts pass floccinaucinihilipilification.

Leisurely plucking a nearby rose for my hair
a thorn sinks deep into soft flesh
blood trickles a bright red.

Jamming my finger in my mouth
I stand and gather my wits about me
bare feet heading for the back door.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

This was originally a Magpie Tale write. I reworked the art and wrote this poem about it. I imagined myself in this garden making a wish as described above. I enjoyed having a surprise ending here, a kind of “wake up and smell the roses” (or something like that.)

Time To Fly

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Time To Fly

The sun watches all from high in the sky
caterpillar to butterfly, miracles so small
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

Everything smells wonderful and clean
flowers and grasses grow so tall
the sun watches all from high in the sky.

In the warmth, my mood is serene
outside the sunlight touches all
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

There is magic in the color green
and music plays in nature’s call
the sun watches all from high in the sky.

The spirit renews in life’s routines
slow and steady the protocol
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

Many mysteries remain unseen
constantly changing our tiny blue ball
the sun watches all from high in the sky
when wings become dry it’s time to fly.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

This is my first Villanelle and I hope it’s written correctly. Written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. Shared with my friends at Poets United.

Almost

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Almost

It was about time
relatively close
approximately there
around the last minute
practically here
essentially finished
virtually in effect
close enough to smell
as good as done
all but answered
within an inch
 666666666666666666almost….

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for the Peninsula Poetry Corner tonight in Menlo Park (found through the MeetUp app.) Prompt is “almost.”

Nuns And Sunflowers

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Nuns And Sunflowers
(My tribute to Fellini.)

A long afternoon spent
in a field of ripe sunflowers
my faded picnic blanket
a magic carpet.

The ultraviolet rays
sing my body a warm lullaby
my hands stop worrying
at the worn threads of my mind
as goldenrod heads gently nod
in blissful agreement above me
nature doing Fellini proud
(or is it just me?)

As the day settles into the heat
the visions start to fade
but before the spell is broken
I see myself surrounded
by nun’s in old habits
collecting seeds and planting sunflowers
(I am not alone.)

My last thought of course
like a hummingbird’s sweet kiss
settles on you.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Written for my friends at Poets United seeking the extraordinary from the ordinary and my tribute to Fellini. Also shared for open link at dVerse~Poets Pub. Artwork animated by me.

Spare The Air

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Spare The Air

It’s lunch hour in San Francisco on a foggy day. The sun tries to shed some light on the subject burning through the layers of car exhaust and jet streams from the nearby airport. The rush hour is in full force as drivers slowly move in lines like ants on the various freeways trying to free themselves of their cars. The local news station warns residents that it’s a Spare The Air Day.

Seated on a park bench near the bay munching on a sandwich the view is amazing. The yellow, orange and crimson streaks of color in the sky are beautiful. The sun is weaving in and out of the cloud layer making the afternoon light look magical. Without some pollution, the colors would never be quite like that. I am reminded of how a little smog can still be admired and enjoyed.

noon sun shimmers
a bayside Kodachrome moment
spare the air lunch hour

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photography by +Woojin Yu follow his work on Google+.

A haibun written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. In California, a Spare The Air Day is when the air is still and polluted to the point that making fires in fireplaces, burning garbage and other things that could add to the problem are prohibited until further notice. This is because we have very strict pollution laws. Although this picture looks like total pollution it’s mostly fog which we have a lot here. Despite my words, California has some of the best air in the US because most of our pollution goes down to the central valley.

Tuesday Lost

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Tuesday Lost

I woke up this Tuesday
it was foggy and gray
local news was boring
my cat was snoring
nobody around
there was not a sound
so I looked outside
as I tried to decide
just what I could do
on a day so blue.

Coffee broke my fast
but that didn’t last
fatigued to doom
I retired to my room
I picked up a book
to take a look,
“Beware,” it read,
“this will go to your head.”

I woke up this Tuesday
instead, it was Wednesday
just around dawn
as time had crept on
a most tedious day
literally slept away.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2015

Sharing this poem from the past with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads on a Tuesday much like the one I wrote about in 2015. Photography of San Francisco under the weather by Gary Lo.

I want to ride my bike but the weather has been foggy and very windy for days on end. I anxiously wait for the wind to calm down in the mornings so I can enjoy my rides. Biking on the San Francisco Bay trails is a real downer when riding for miles into the wind.