A Lullaby

A Lullaby

Composed with the music of yellows and blues

He painted a lullaby of soft swirling stars

A concert of brushstrokes, melodious hues

Composed with the music of yellows and blues.

The sky's inspiration, a heavenly muse

Like a universe of fireflies spinning in jars

Composed with the music of yellows and blues

He painted a lullaby of soft swirling stars. 

Caren E. Salas

A ekphastic triolet inspired by Vincent Van Gogh's  "Starry Night" 

photo: smithsonianmag.com

With One Kiss

With One Kiss

She awoke in his arms, still

And waiting for consciousness

To determine what is real, 

Or whether she is dreaming.

The warmth of his body, his

Steady breathing assures her.

She lies, quietly hoping

That her senses aren't playing

Tricks on her already bruised

Heart. He turns to look at her 

And kisses her. With one kiss

She knows, this dream is for real.

Caren E. Salas

Robert Lee Brewer's Wednesday Poetry Prompt - an ekphrastic poem (one inspired by a work of art).

http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poetry-prompts/wednesday-poetry-prompts-169-ekphrastic-poetry

In Bed The Kiss, by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

File Source

http://www.the-athenaeum.org/art/by_artist.php?Artist_ID=382

The Race

Step up on the block. Deep breath;

Toes curled over the edge. Look

Straight ahead. Flags eye level;

Water below. Concentrate.

"On your marks!" Hands grab the block;

Eyes on the finish. BANG!      

Fly.

Caren E. Salas

Photo:  swimming.about.com

Robert Lee Brewer's Wednesday Prompt today was "Preparation" and for some reason I was reminded of a time many years ago when I used to swim competitively. That moment right before the start when you have to be 100% ready to fly off the block and into the water.  The rush was amazing. 

They Told Me

They told me things could get bad.

They told me I might not be 

Able to handle it, not 

Be able to hold her once

She was born. I'd be too weak.

I decided to risk it.

They told me that I'd need help

But who wouldn't, I asked and 

Continued on knowing all 

Would be all right in the end

And it was, four times in fact.

It was a risk worth taking.

Caren E. Salas

Robert Lee Brewer's Wednesday Poetry Prompt: a "Risk" poem. Dedicated to my beautiful children. I'd risk  it all again.

What the Moon Thinks

What the Moon Thinks

Shining down on a dark and lonely world

I seek the lovers and children below

Dreamers who reach up to capture my glow

Will find only empty night in their grasp

I light up the path home, guiding the lost

Secrets are hidden in shadows I cast

Even the tides must obey my command

In my honor, the mermaids sing sweet songs

Some think there's a man in me, you can know

When my love, the sun, reflects on my face.

Caren E. Salas

photo by Eugene Ireland

Wednesday Poetry Prompt by Robert Lee Brewer

The End

No moving forward

No going back, or U-turns

No changing my mind

No right or left, up or down

No help in sight, just the dark.

Nothing but silence

No spark of inspiration

No questions allowed

No dreams left, within my reach.

No more options, a dead end.

Caren E. Salas

Photo: roadtrafficsigns.com


Robert Lee Brewer's Wednesday Poetry Prompt: a dead end poem   

The Last Page

The last blank page of my journal seemed so
Naked inside a book filled with scribbles
And stickers, magazine pictures pasted
Next to fortunes from cookies, random quotes,
A hospital bracelet, thrift store price tags,
A magic playing card: the King of Spades,
Stolen from my magician friend, my love,
Thoughts, frustrations, secrets, memories, words,
Mistakes made, dreams yet to be realized,
But with this poem...my journal's complete.

Caren E. Salas

Photo: http://uncomfortablemoments.blogspot.com/2011/01/dear-diary.html

The "Lawn"

I'm okay, holding it in

Keeping myself together

Distracted by surroundings

A breeze blowing in the trees

Clouds in the sky, a bright sun

The green grass beneath my feet.

But then I see the faces

People I love, family

Friends, the tears, the memories

Start to flood into my mind

Finding escape through my eyes

Until I can cry no more.

Caren E. Salas

photo by  http://laist.com 

This Glass of Wine

This glass of wine can't erase
The day I've had.  It only
Makes my head a bit fuzzy
And my eyelids heavier.
This glass of wine can't make it
All go away or keep me

Together when I'm falling
To pieces. I sit alone
Feeling like life committed
A hit and run, leaving me
Hurt, bleeding, with nothing but
This half empty glass of wine.

This glass of wine can't erase
The day I've had.

Caren E. Salas


photo by http://inbalancemagazine.com/2011/05/

Unstoppable

I'm a little behind in my posting. Last week was my birthday, I was out of time for a bit and then I caught a really lovely cold which has made me a little..fuzzy in the head. (oh, I know, what else is new, huh?) Anyway, last weeks prompt from Robert Lee Brewer was to write a poem about an unstoppable force. At first I thought of all the things in my life that seem to get me down, things that stop me...but then I thought: Really? I'm still here. Despite my desease, my crazy life, the drama of having teenagers, several literary rejections etc, etc. I'm still here. I'm unstoppable. Faltering is not stopping, as long as I keep trying, right? There's a great line in the movie "Soul Surfer": "I don't need easy, I need possible."


Unstoppable


Some things are unstoppable:
Time passing, growing older,
My desease taking over,
Taxes adding, always more,
Friends passing, life goes on.
Life goes on, and I'm still here.
Maybe I'm...unstoppable.


Caren E. Salas

Old Tricks

Robert Lee Brewer's latest Wednesday prompt was to write a "new start" poem, and as I thought about the new year, my thoughts were drawn to the fact that "New Years' Resolutions" are really pretty futile. About the only thing I can hope for is to just close my eyes, take a deep breath, pray...and leap.

Old Tricks

I feel like the proverbial "old dog":

The one who can't learn a new trick, looking

At the new year expecting to find hope

And excitement, having no idea

How to actually make that happen.

My old tricks have proven unsuccessful,

And I scoff at the new philosophies

Designed to make me believe in myself,

When that's not the problem. I can believe

All I want, but my world has other plans.

I take a step forward, but I stumble,

I'm tripped, distracted, or derailed, often

All at the same time. My ambition aims

Higher than my energy lasts; my will

Constantly beaten down by a desease

Both exhausting and unpredictable.

So every day I start over, every

Year I dive in, not knowing if the pool

Is filled. Will I splash or crash?  "Cannonball!"

I cry, an old trick, but still my best one.

Caren E. Salas

If Anything

Day 30: The final challenge!! Write an "against all odds" poem.


If Anything

If I had said no,
If I hadn't been feeling
As well as I did
Had anything been different
I never would have met you.

Caren E. Salas

My Brother

Day 29: Another 2 for Tuesday. Challenge for today: a day time or an evening poem. In my case, it's kind of both.

My Brother

My brother lives an ocean away
Measured in time, sixteen hours ahead
When I'm saying good night, he's starting his day
My brother lives an ocean away
He went to visit, but decided to stay
He had fallen in love, that's what he said
My brother lives an ocean away
Measured in time, sixteen hours ahead.

Caren E. Salas

A Moonlit Story

Day 28: A _____ Story. Write a poem with this as the title. (ie: A Toy Story, A Love Story etc.)


A Moonlit Story

Starry night
You and I gazing
At the moon
Dreaming dreams
Sharing hopes for tomorrow
Praying love will last.

Caren E. Salas

Teddy

Day 27: a Tribute poem. I couldn't really think of anyone I wanted to write a "tribute" about, not that I don't know some awesome people, but many of their stories are not easy to put into words, There was one..(okay, not really a "person")  who meant a lot. So here is a fibonacci about a special bear.

Teddy

Her

Bear

Teddy

Everywhere

She went, he went too

Until she got the puppy.

Brown 

Fur

Matted

Over years

Of hugs and kisses

Now cold and in the closet.

Caren E. Salas