CAMERAS (#8 "a thing")

Remember when we had cameras?
I know, I'm showing my age
But the kind with film and flash bulbs
Before cell phones became the rage.

We would take the pictures carefully
If we were lucky, perhaps we'd have some
Good enough that we'd want to share
In a frame or a great big album.

But one day we all went digital
You could see the shots right then, how neat!
Keep all the ones that turned out well
And the others, hey, just delete!

And now there's external hard drives to store them!
Thousands of pictures can fit
Until somehow your drive gets corrupted
And as you're watching it crash, you cry...poop!

So call me old if you want to
But I'm printing up all of the best
So my grandchildren's photos might be safer
And not lost like a lot of the rest.


Caren E. Salas

THE WORLD SPINS ON....

The world spins on
     People love and laugh
Oblivious to the pain we feel
I try and make it make some sense
But still, it doesn't seem quite real.

And the world spins on
     People rush around
Busy with their lives, and yet
Forgetting the things that really count
That someday they might just regret.

And the world spins on
     People trample dreams
Discouraged with the life they lead
Wanting more, but doing less
They break a heart to see it bleed.

And the world spins on...


Caren E. Salas



Photo by Bill Salas

HANG ON

His eyes cry out, but no words
Come from his lips. I refuse
To listen. It hurts, I know.
Don't give up, she wouldn't want
You to say good-bye just yet.
Hang on just a while longer.

I try to tell him without
Speaking. Things will get better
You have a new great grandson
On the way that you should meet
And all of us who love you.
Hang on just a while longer.


Caren E. Salas

THE FLOWERS

The grounds keeper said we might as well take
The flowers; he'd be throwing them away.
So we did. Every bloom and bud we could
That wasn't crushed, spent, damaged or broken.
We gathered them gently into our arms
And took them home where we put them in jars,
Vases, bottles arranging them as well
As we could. The flowers brought color back
Into what had been a very gray week
And a bit of light into our dark times.

Now, as each day passes, more flowers fade;

Petals dropping silently, leaves drooping.

Maybe we can dry the roses, maybe

We can press some of them into a book. 

If we lay them in the garden, might seeds

Take root and in the Spring grow back again? 

Anything to keep these flowers alive,

To make them last a little bit longer. 

Because while I still have the flowers here,

I won't really have to tell her good-bye.

 

Caren E. Salas

.

THE WORDS HAVE LEFT ME

The words have left me, so it seems

Packed their bags with broken dreams

They used to stay with me all night

Make sense of things, and hold me tight

But now they're gone, just not around

I'm open-mouthed, without a sound

I've seen the face of love in pain

And a light that's drowning, in ceaseless rain

I'm left with an empty and aching heart

Seeing those I love, now torn apart

The words have left me high and dry

I try to speak but only cry.

Caren E. Salas

MY DANCIN' SHOES (#23 - a poem about shoes)

I never knew 

What the years would do

To my shoes

Hidden, stored away

Melancholy memories repressed

I had all but given in

To ever wearing them again

But then...

A second chance

A brand new song

To dance to

But time had been a bit unfair

To my old shoes

And now it's clear

I'm gonna' need a new pair.

Caren E. Salas

Photo: Poshmark

THE "COOL" KIDS (#19 Cool or Uncool)

The cool kids tease and call her names

Trip her walking down the hall

Knock over books, pull her hair

Laugh at her should she fall.

The cool kids talk behind her back

Spreading rumors around the school

I think these kids really need to learn

A better definition of  "cool".

Caren E. Salas

Photo: Huffington Post - Getty Images.

SOMETHING WRONG (#11 a "defensive poem")

There's something very wrong here
Something not quite right

When a bullied child in self defense
Is rebuked for "joining" the fight;

When a victim's life is opened wide
And instead of comforted, shamed,
Insulted atop the injury
Belittled, mocked and blamed.

How do we alter hundreds of years
Of Survival of the Cruel?
It's time to change some attitudes.
It's time to break some rules.

Apparently it's easy to say
"Toughen up, you'll be fine"
Rather than taking action,
To eliminate the crime.

There's something very wrong here;
Something so absurd.
But being a girl myself, it seems
I likely won't be heard.


Caren E. Salas




Photo: http://bullyingpreventionnow.com/bullying-assemblies/high-school-bullying-assemblies/
Also, check this out! http://www.pennlive.com/news/2016/06/high_school_valedictorian_skip.html

SQUIGGLES (#8 be inspired by a doodle)

A line

A wiggle

Just thoughtless squiggles

Like inside of my mind

A jumble

unrefined

In different directions

It's all

For my own protection.

If no one can figure me out, then

I don't have to show

Who I really am.

Caren E. Salas

ROOTS (#6 an Ekphrastic poem)

Grounded

Stable, stong

Doing, feeling, striving

Roots, home, prison, restraint

Reaching, fearing, disparing

Imprisoned, tortured

Bound.

Caren E. Salas

Painting:  "Roots" by Frida Kahlo

IN BETWEEN (#4 Distance)

Distance can be measured

Not in miles, 

But by smiles and tears;

Not on a street map, 

But through years: the days and nights

And the difference

In between.

A warm embrace remembered,

Makes separation abate,

But the cold chill of a friendship lost

Reaches right into the heart:

A reminder 

Of a much greater divide

.

You haven't moved, or traveled 

To parts unknown and yet 

The distance

In between us

...has grown.

Caren E. Salas

Fade to Black - #2 He said/she said

Good night

Is all she said

Turned off the light

And went to bed.

I love you

He whispered back

Closed his eyes

Fade to black.

Caren E Salas

A Day Late and a Poem Short

Somehow, I completely lost track of April. Yes, pretty much the entire month has disappeared from memory. I did go on a cruise the first week of the month, but after that...it's all a blur. I sort of remember unpacking, and trying to catch up on the bills and housework, but other than that....things get fuzzy..And now, here it is: the end of May.

So unfortunately I missed Robert Lee Brewer's Poem a Day Challenge for National Poetry Month which was almost two months ago. At first I thought "Awe, man! I blew it!" But then I realized, that I can still look up Mr. Brewer's prompts and I can still write a poem every day for a month. Well, I can try anyway. So here I go. Hopefully you will join me for the ride. I'll try and keep up.

The first prompt was to write a "Foolish Poem". There's something about that word that sort of bothers me. I don't mind the occasional surprise that makes you jump, or a silly rubber spider in your cereal, but for a person to purposely set another person up to make them feel stupid, seems hurtful, and alienating.  So...here's my post for a "Foolish" poem:

THE FOOL

No one wants to play the fool

The butt of jokes, the target

In a dart game, the bullseye

Talked and laughed about by all

Who need to put down others

In order to raise themselves.

Caren E. Salas

All Too Familiar

Appointments

Procedures

It all seems

Familiar

But this time

It's not me

I wish though

It could be

I don't want 

To see her

...in pain.

More blood work

The needles

The waiting

For hours

The meds and

The diets

Won't know 'til

We try it

I don't want 

Her going

...insane.

It's all

Inconclusive

Frustrating

Confusing

More doctors

Re-testing

It's hard just

Digesting

The answers

Seem so hard

...to find.

So we go

On waiting

What seems like

Forever

I hope that

She makes it

I hope I 

Can take it

I feel like 

I'm losing

....my mind.

Caren E. Salas

Runaway Train

                               My eyes are wide open, my hair is a mess,                                 

My blankets are tangled; can't escape from my bed.  

But the worst part is knowing despite my distress,

And I can't stop the runaway train in my head.

I'm feeling hung over, but had nothing to drink.

I expect to find shrapnel of my brains all around,

Left behind when due to unexpected ignition

My head just exploded, without making a sound.

Still the train keeps on coming, increasing in speed.

Filled with freight cars heavy with worries and fears;

And I'm tied to the tracks like the Perils of Me

Damn Pauline didn't show up, yet the audience cheers.

Was it something I said, or forgot to include?

Did I remember to lock the front door late last night?

There's the long list of things I still have to do.

Did I mess something up? Can I still make it right?

My thoughts are as tangled as the blankets and sheets

That are holding me hostage, twisted up in my bed.

The whistle is blowing; with no rescue in sight

And I can't stop the runaway train in my head.

Caren E. Salas

Photo: "Little Phil and the Nightshadows" Perils of Pauline  youtube.com

Erased

I'm still here

But you can't see me

Closed your eyes

So I'll go away.

I'm still here

But you won't hear me

Turned your back

To what I say.

I'm still here

Though I'm deleted

Marked and cut

Without a paste.

I'm still here

But I don't exist

Because to you

I've been erased.

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

The Battle

The sand in the hourglass

Flows like a mighty waterfall.

It flips over and over, until it's spinning

Like a pinwheel in a hurricane.

I watch hopelessly without the strength 

To hold even a few grains of it's sand 

As they slip through my fingers like rain.

I scream. I cry in the night, clinching my fists;

Losing the battle against the relentless passing of time.

The darkness and cold embrace me;

No way to stoke the fire inside

That might save me. Sometimes I barely feel 

The glow of it's embers, as my will 

To struggle increasingly wanes. I'm falling,

Too intensely worn, to continue a battle

That I will not win.

I scream. I cry in the night, clinching my fists.

Losing the battle against impending eternal night.

But...I fight, yes fight I must,

Because the war isn't over just yet

I continue steadfast

And though the time flies, and life fades to black

I still dream. I will dream.

And I scream, and cry in the night, clinching my fists

Maybe losing the battle, but never surrendering to the war.

Caren E. Salas

photo: http://wall.alphacoders.com

Not the Same #26

When I'm down for the count, please don't try and claim

That you know how I feel, that you've played the game.

I know that you're trying, and I'm not placing blame

But it's just not the same, it's just not the same.

Sometimes we all have a need to complain

And everyone has their own level of pain

But your constant one-upping just makes me insane

And there's nothing to gain, there's nothing to gain.

Caren E. Salas

Prompt # 26 Something that is or isn't the "same". This isn't aimed at anyone in particular (my disclaimer, lol) Just a common complaint from those of us with chronic illnesses.

I'll Never Know #20

I'll never know how good of friends
We could have one day been
I'll never know the dreams you had
Or see your smiling face again.
I'll never know if you'd have liked
The story that I penned,
Yet just from my description
You swore you'd recommend.
You left too soon, so suddenly
No time for me to try
To let you know how much you meant
Or even say good-bye.


Caren E. Salas




Prompt #20 "I'll never..." This poem is for my friend Lori Eget. We met on a vacation and were instant friends. She seemed to have that effect on people. You met her and just felt like you'd known her forever.  Then one day I found out she had passed away. Her family didn't know me well enough to notify me, so I missed whatever service there might have been. I think about her all the time and wonder how our friendship might have grown, but I'll never know...