We all hide behind masks
cowering from our vulnerabilities
steeped in our inabilities.
If someone catches a white lie
or a small truth
another mask is born.
When we want to look our best
with wrinkles and imperfections gone
hiding from the realities of it all
another kind of mask comes into play.
When we love someone deeply
effortlessly we slip the mask
so sweetly we part the sheets
together we discover the divine truth.
But the moment it’s revealed
we retreat back to what we know best
the mask firmly back in place.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2015
We wear many masks during our lifetimes. How many people can you say know the real you? We don’t mean to hide but life can be very trying to say the least. Love does not guarantee that you see beneath the mask.
Me And Me
With everyone I disagreed
I never helped a friend in need
a man that had to have my way
I always had the final say.
Just me, and me, and me alone
with everyone, I’ve been disowned
and now the time has come to see
I really turned my back on me.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2014
Published here for the first time in 2018. My artwork put through filters and animated.
Every single cell in me
can identify what I lack…
the only man I ever loved.
(Now I can’t win you back!)
A lover like no other
you turned out to be
my extraordinary man…
who saw something, in me.
But now you love her!
I don’t know how I lost…
please forgive me my sins
and this line I have crossed.
Now you’re dead where you lay-
the crime fits like a glove.
But I feel so much better,
“Goodbye now, my love.”
© Rebecca Sanchez 2013
I took an older poem that had punctuation to link with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. I took some time off from writing and am slowly dipping my toes back into the poetry river. I believe in using punctuation and use it in my poems something I started a long time ago when a friend convinced me.
Forever is a long time
tomorrow never comes
yesterday is so far away
I waste my time
and that’s a crime.
Destiny goes unfulfilled
the shape of things to come
the lottery is never won
fate knows the score
My lifeline tells me nota
my fortune can’t be rushed
good things take time
so an enigma I’ll remain.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
nota=slang for nothing
My life remains a puzzle slowly coming together with pieces bent and missing that may be lost for good. How would I know?
Sharing a poem of choice with my friends at Poets United.
“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.
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.
is like a coffin
my body lies dead
in wait for my demise.
near the windowpane
into the room
over my face
in a death mask.
with random thoughts
cobwebs of dreams
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
Sleep is so much like death, I often think about it.
The artwork, A Matter Of Life And Death by Fay Collins is the prompt for today at dVerse~Poets Pub.
a way out.
New translucent wings
skillfully added to my back
aids my imaginative escape off of this page.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2015/2018
A Fibonacci written in the past for Magpie Tales, animated by me.