Me And Me
With everyone I disagreed
I never helped a friend in need
I always 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.
![myphoto[3]](https://capriciouspoet.files.wordpress.com/2018/08/myphoto3.gif?w=863)
Candy Land
Soldiers waging war with flowers
bullets made of candy sours
everything one could devour
messing with their willpower.
All the men had taken vows
but had an urge for candy now-
they missed the posted sign somehow:
Eating Candy Is Not Allowed!
Licorice trees and sugar sand
it was more than they could stand
their bellies filled on enemy land
now, candy fell from useless hands.
The warning sign-a bitter pill
the candy took away free will.
Standing very,
############very,
##################STILL.
Gummy soldiers on the hill.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2014
I originally wrote about this image for Magpie Tales and animated it. Shared with my friends at Poets United on this quiet Sunday.
Last Goodbye
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.
“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.
The End Is (Near) Here
Discovering new medicines
prolonging life and more
it wasn’t enough to save us
not many could afford.
Grocery shelves were empty
nuclear reactors failed
the planet overcrowded
the toxic air inhaled.
The dumping and the oil spills
went on with no relief
it all went in the water
to percolate beneath.
”The end is near,” the soothsayer wrote
his words died where he lay
no one was left to notice
the end was here today.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
I couldn’t help but write a second poem for this prompt I had so many thoughts about it. Money isn’t the only evil, we are an imperfect people with more of us born on this earth every day. I believe there will be a day of reckoning and hope it goes better than this. Written for the prompt money with my friends at Poets United.
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.
![FRq26[8]](https://capriciouspoet.files.wordpress.com/2018/01/frq268.gif?w=863)
Deactivated
Returning from the war I locked away my gun
put away my uniform and that part of me
I was already damaged and not quite whole
thrown back into the world with bleak uncertainty
doubt funnels through my brain like a sieve
while I sit on a slab of ebbing confusing emotions
a large oscillating wave of self-doubt pressing against me
it never leaves me even when I pretend to sleep
I feel it’s weight upon me even now as I try to speak
a cell-block encasing my heart even though I try to break free
I ask my maker every day, what will become of me?
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
The prompt was weapon and I could have added it to the poem but this (fantasy) soldier is a weapon himself, taught to both use and become a weapon. Once home, our soldiers find it hard to turn off these learned behaviors and stop the bad memories from returning home with them.
Deactivate-remove from active duty in the military.
I used the animated GIF to write my poem and found it during a Google image search.
Written with my friends at Poets United.
Capricious Poet 