BLOOD-STAINED (Day 26 - use a word invented by Shakespeare)

The zombie hunters traveled

In groups, each carrying guns

And weapons of all sizes

Big, small, sharp, blunt; and wearing

Blood-stained clothes. Some blood is theirs,

The rest is from their victims.

Caren E. Salas

Photo:  http://storiesbywilliams.com/2013/08/04/zombie-hunters/

MAYBE (Day 25 - Across the Sea)

Maybe, just maybe

Somebody has an answer;

In another land

Across the great blue ocean

Someone has it figured out.

Caren E. Salas

OVER (Day 24 - "a moment")

Just
One
Moment
Changed it all
Nothing was the same
Life as we knew it was over.


Caren E. Salas

FUTURE HISTORY (Day 23 - Historical)

In the year two thousand seventy three
A virus has broken out all over me
They say that I'm dead, I say they're crazy
How can I be? How can I be?

In the year two thousand seventy four
I keep eating brains but still I want more
I've never had such a craving before
It's hard to ignore, it's hard to ignore.

In the year two thousand seventy five
I've come to accept I'm no longer alive
But if being a zombie helps me survive
Give me a high five! Give me a high five!


Caren E. Salas


Photo: theguardian.com

BEFORE... (Day 22 - Nature)

Before the bombs and before the machines

Before the pollution poisoned the air

The sky was blue and the grass was green

The children played without a care

Before the pollution poisoned the air

Before every day was a fight to survive

The children played without a care

We never appreciated just being alive

Before every day was a fight to survive

There were no zombies wandering around

We never appreciated just being alive

When life was more than just holding your ground

There were no zombies wandering around

Before the bombs and before the machines

When life was more than just holding your ground

The sky was blue and the grass was green

Caren E. Salas

EXTINCT (Day 21 - Who I am/Who I am not)

I am endangered
Still living but moving toward
Extinction, fighting
Everyday against all odds
In a world filled with horror.

Each day the number
Of undead is increasing
My chances are slim
And my hopes of survival
Fade into the toxic air.


Caren E. Salas

MY BEST FRIEND, THE ZOMBIE (Day 20 - My___, the ___)

You used to be more fun, back

When you had a pulse. We'd grown

Close, but then you died, sort of.

Now it's all the time: "Brains! Brains!"

And the moaning and groaning

Is annoying! And the smell!

Honey, a little perfume

Wouldn't kill you! Actually

Nothing would kill you, you're dead!

Sort of. Maybe you should try

To exfoliate. Your skin

Keeps falling off everywhere.

By the way, gray and decay 

Are not the new black. Really.

And green, is definitely

Not a good color for you.

You know I'll always love you,

But some things have got to change.

Caren E. Salas

Photo: zombiegirl321.deviantart.com

DO AS THEY SAY (Day 19 - Authority)

Listen to authority
And you must do as they say
But not necessarily as they do
Silence is golden
Especially when the laws and rules
Do not apply to you
Follow orders to the letter
Because when it's all over
They will need someone to blame
Who is "they" you may ask?
It's whoever is in authority
And you must do as they say.


Caren E. Salas



Disclaimer: This poem is written in light of the theme I am working on: the Apocalypse, and a world I imagined with machines, zombies and corrupt officials. It is not aimed at all authority figures. Just wanted to put that out there.... :)

Photo: commons.wikimedia.org (Lenin)

ALL EATEN (Day 18 - Pick 2 vowels)

Apples, peaches, grapes

Bananas, a strawberry

All eaten by me

Caren E. Salas

The prompt today was a challenge: I could pick 2 vowels, and then write a poem using only those vowels. I chose A and E. I figured I'd better stick with a shorter form so I wrote a haiku.  It's off my "theme", but what the heck, it was this or zombie moans and groans; and there are too many different vowels in the words zombie, and undead. 

EMPTY (Day 17 - swing)

There are no children to swing

On the swing-set; it just swings

In the wind. Ching...ching...the links

Ring as they sway, no more kids

Remain to play on the slide

Or ride on the red horses

Mounted on enormous springs.

Ching...ching...the links ring and sway

In the wind like strange music

Echoing in the empty

Playground where once the sweet sound

Of children's laughter was heard.

Caren E. Salas

LIFE (Day 16 - Science)

there are those who believe in science

what they can prove and what they can see

and those who believe in miracles

in visions or signs or faith in God

i'm not sure nor am i arrogant

enough to presume i have a clue

about whether one or the other 

has the answers to it all or not

i have experiences and dreams

and being a poet would rather

rely on faith rather than science

caren e salas

LONELY (Day 15 - pick an adjective and make it the title.)

All of us have lost someone

Some of us have lost all

Together we journey

We're the walking wounded

The lost and lonely ones.

Caren E. Salas

LIES (Day 14 - honesty/dishonesty)

Were you infected?
No, she said, and shook her head.
I knew she had lied.



Caren E.Salas






photo:  http://timesofsandiego.com/arts/2014/07/26/zombies-zany-bunch-walking-dead-descend-gaslamp/

WOULD I HEAR? (Day 13 - Confession)

I think about their dying

Breath, whether they felt remorse

Or whether they didn't care

At all that they had condemned 

The rest of us to this hell.

How did they get a free pass?

I think about what I'd do

If I met someone who'd built

The machines that took over

And destroyed all that we loved.

Would I hear their confession,

Or their regrets? Sorry....no.

Caren E. Salas


photo: hdwallpapersfit.com

SHELL (Day 12 - Damage)

On the surface, everything 

Seems normal, copacetic.

At first glance, you'd never know

The destruction, the decay,

Eating away the insides

And leaving behind...a shell.

Caren E. Salas

photo: pinterest.com (could not narrow down specifics)

THE COLD (Day 11 - a seasonal poem)

The cold stings, and burns
The ground feels like it's covered
With thousands of upturned barbs
Penetrating my already swollen feet.
Clouds loom, but produce no moisture
Save humidity, making the air thick
And hard to breathe.
The trees reach out with bony-fingered branches
Shivering without foliage to keep warm.
I cling to my sweater: tattered, buttons missing,
Mere threads giving it shape.
No flutter of wings breaks the frigid silence
No rustling leaves or scurrying creatures
To alter the empty isolation.
All are gone: starved, eaten or frozen.
Only the cold remains...
And the cold stings and burns.


Caren E. Salas

HOW TO SURVIVE (Day 10 - "How---")

Always carry a weapon
You can use on the undead.
Always be on the lookout
For sustenance and water.
Someone needs to stay awake
For safety and protection.

We vote to stay, or to go;
Always pray for shorter nights.
If you're ever left behind
We'll come back, if we're able;
Better, you stay with the group
We're stronger when united.


Caren E. Salas

photo: thezombieapocalypse.com

A JOB THAT I HATED (Day 9 - Work)

Long ago, before

The beginning of the end

Every day I'd go

To a job that I hated

Waiting for the week to end.

Now each day I fight

Struggling just to stay alive

And I miss my life

And that job that I hated

Waiting for the world to end.

Caren E. Salas

TRUTH OR DARE (Day 8 - Dare)

Truth or dare
A child's game of chance
Reveal yourself, or take a risk
Does anybody really win?
Tell me, are you,
Afraid of the dark?
Do you fear tomorrow
And what lies ahead?
Do you remember how to dream?
Do you remember how to cry?
Have you anything to hide?

I dare you:
Go outside.


Caren E. Salas

AND THEY CALLED IT ZOMBIE LO-O-O-OVE.. (Day 7 - love/anti-love)

The two of us were only recently undead

Still we knew that what we felt, was not just in our heads

We didn't even mind when people screamed at us and fled

Love was a special journey...

We didn't fear to tread; we didn't fear to tread.

He said he hardly noticed the flesh melting off my face

Or my occasional extremities dropping all over the place

And when I lost my left eyeball, he kissed the empty space

Some say it cannot last...

We know that's not the case; we know that's not the case. 

We're going to love each other until the very end

Until we have no legs to stand or elbows we can bend

Whatever time we have on earth, forever I will spend

Every loving moment...

With my zom-boyfriend, With my zom-boyfriend.

Caren E. Salas

photo: zombieresearchsociety.com

THE WHITE CITY (Day 6 - "things are not as they appear...")

From a distance, the city

Glowed and shone in the sunlight;

Silver towers touched the sky

Like a glimpse of Paradise.

Not until you reached the gates

Did you notice it was hell.

A thick film of grayish white

Smothered everything. Ashes

Left behind from disaster;

Windows shattered, doors blown out

Empty automobile shells

Littered the once bustling streets.

An eerie silence haunting

Do the lost souls still remain

In the clouds of dust that linger?

Do we walk on sacred ground?

So many prayers unanswered

Only suffocating death.

Caren E, Salas

Sadly this poem was inspired in part by the events on 9/11. The photo is one I took of Los Angeles, which could have just as easily been a target of destruction. Although this is meant to be an Apocalyptic themed poem, I realized that at the time the thought had crossed my mind as well as (i'm guessing) many others'. Is this the beginning of the end?

THE UNTENDED GARDEN (Day 5 - Vegetable)

An overgrowth of weeds
Like a crowd of out of control sports fans
Nearly obstructed the bright green leaves
And plump Brandywine tomatoes
Red as Santa's Christmas Eve suit
And indeed a gift: succulent flesh
Close to bursting through the delicate epidermis
Oddly out of place in the abandoned plot
No one there to protest it's removal
Or to protect the slender green beans
From indiscriminate picking
And although the corn stalks towered high
Above the troublesome flora
Which seemed determined to overtake it,
The cobs promised sweet kernals.
A tempting cornucopia of sustenance
Were it not for the enormous worms
Oozing out of the radioactive soil.


Caren E. Salas



photo:  realneo.us

DEARLY DEPARTED (Day 4 - departure)

If only death were the final end

With the hope of heaven around the bend
Instead of this horror we can't comprehend
When the nightmare begins, when the nightmare begins.

Our dearly departed are not gone at all
They've started decaying but still walk and crawl
You must aim for the head, or they never will fall
No matter how tall, no matter how small.


Caren E. Salas



(Sorry, but you knew there had to be zombies, right?)

Mask by Inferno Effects
 https://www.facebook.com/pages/Inferno-Effects/239408609599919?fref=ts

THE MISTAKE (Day 3 - a machine poem)

The mistake...

Teaching them to think

Has proven

Our demise

And there is no going back

Or hope for us now.

The machines

Designed to help us

Having learned

Now conquer

We can only run and hide

As lesser species.

Caren E. Salas

"HAL" from 2001: A Space Odyssey

Photo: hdwallpapersbase.com

THEY (Day 2 - Secret)

We met in secret.
Somehow connecting online
On the street, in bars.
There are so few of us left;
We held tight to each other.

It was dangerous.
Looking over our shoulders;
The necessity
Had become a way of life,
Never knowing if they knew.


Caren E, Salas

GONE (Day 1 - Resistance)

The resistance had put up

A good fight, but in the end

There was no escape. Our world, 

Our home, belonged to them now:

Faceless, emotionless thugs.

The scourge of the universe.

Caren E. Salas

Sketch: Christian Salas
WNDRland Inc.
https://www.facebook.com/WndrlandincScreenPrinting

It's April!!

In case you were unaware, the month of April is national poetry month. Every year I go to Robert Lee Brewer's website, "Poetic Asides" where he posts a prompt for his annual "Poem a Day Challenge". Every year I try my best to keep up. So, I know what you are thinking...it's already April 6, Caren. Do not despair! I have been writing the poems, but this is the first day I've had a chance to post them. Hopefully I'll be able to post 2 every day until I catch up, but no promises.  I will be doing something a little different this year, following a suggestion he made on his "pre-challenge" post. I don't know why I never thought of it myself. He said we could try using a theme. Hmmm, an interesting thought, but what sort of theme? His first prompt was "resistance" as in resisting an idea, a chore etc. All I could think of was "The Resistance" like from the Terminator movies. John Connor: Leader of The Resistance. (I thought Christian Bale was a nice choice for that part... just sayin'.) My train of thought went from there, and ended on this: The Apocalypse. Cool, huh? Leaves things wide open for some really cool stuff I think.
The reason I'm explaining all of this is that I anticipate some dark, possibly depressing, doomsday, no-hope types of poetry, and I don't want anyone worried that I have some underlying meaning related to myself.  So here's my disclaimer: I'm fine. My inspirations will more likely be coming from zombie movies and my demented imagination (or possibly my 15 year old daughter's, because trust me, she is more demented than I am.) Well, buckle your seat-belts, my friends. Hopefully it will be an remarkable ride.


Caren E. Salas


photo: William Salas