Thursday, April 30, 2015

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

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

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




Friday, April 24, 2015

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)

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

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. 



Monday, April 20, 2015

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


Thursday, April 16, 2015

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


Wednesday, April 15, 2015

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

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

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

Monday, April 13, 2015

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

Thursday, April 9, 2015

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

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

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

Monday, April 6, 2015

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