Self Love Poem

I wrote this while pondering the subject of self-love, I decided to write a love poem to myself based on some experiences I’ve had the past 7 years, here is the results:

I Love Me

I walk through the forest called life as
Daisies blossom against obsidian skies
Feet bare,
and grounded into dirt.

A flame ablaze in the distance,
Heart becomes a reflection.

Darkness fades and lunar energy
Lights the path in front of me.

Do I trust the gods and walk forward?

Or, pivot my flesh to walk back into the night?

The glow brings my eyes to a stupor,

I am spellbound.


I am one with the night and
Dance with the deities.


I am ready for
the shaman’s blessing.


It is time to drift from fright
And fall into the universe’s embrace.


Great Spirit cradles me in a celestial blanket;
As the dusk arrives,
So does the love of the divine.


Another day, another opportunity
For a joyous stroll.

~E.R. Buendia

Advertisements

The Hummingbird Dance

A couple of months ago, I wrote this poem after feeling frustrated with my experiences on Tinder and OkCupid. Yes, I have tried online dating apps for years; much to my dismay, each time with negative consequences and it has taken me awhile to learn how to love and respect myself first…here’s a poem about one of my most recent online dating experiences, you can find it in the Bards Against Hunger poetry anthology on Amazon, link at the bottom of this post. Namaste!

The Hummingbird Dance by E.R. Buendia

Your summer kissed skin glows in the sunlight

As the faint breeze sweeps the sweat off your brow

Hummingbirds fly touching upon tangerine flowers

As though the nectar is a gift from the heavens

The flutter of the hummingbird’s wings

Sounds as sweet as an evening lullaby

On this perfect summer day, with harmony standing nearby
Waiting to send love darts to promising lovers

With your eyes closed, you imagine these darts beaming upon the birds

And fill your heart with hopes of an epic love story

Hope that was lost in the reckless abandon of heartbreak purgatory

Is this hummingbird a blessing?

Is it a sign of divine love?

Is this your soulmate?

Or, are you drifting into the

abyss of hopeless romanticism?

Tragedies of Keats,

of every Romantic poet,

who hoped the same

Is this a love doomed or

an epic love that would last for lifetimes?

So you hope for a happy ending this time.

Pray for an ideal to come to fruition,

And get drunk on the fragrance of infatuation.

Copyright of: E.R.Buendia

To purchase the anthology click here. All proceeds go to food banks across the nation, help us end homelessness and famine in our country 🙂

Alchemy/NaNo Update

alchemy symbols
Image found on Google 

Alchemy has always been a fascinating part of science to me. In the Pagan beliefs, we have the Pentagram which symbolizes the five elements of: Spirit, Earth, Air, Water, and, Fire. Now imagine a world that has a whole caste system where there are individuals who use Alchemy as a form of science, which used to be combined with the use of magic. Now imagine that the magic has been banned so the Alchemists rely solely on the power of science. This is a huge part of my novel.

It’s been a journey writing this novel. I am learning a lot more about myself. I’m learning more about conveying emotions in my readers, and, how to write appropriately in an Active tone as well as an first person POV. Writing a novel has been not only challenging but also extremely rewarding. I look forward to sharing excerpts of the novel once its more polished but for now it’s a very ROUGH draft, it’s okay. That’s where proof-editing comes in!

Anyway here’s a little micro fiction for you, told in the perspective of Prince Sebastien:

The ball was on the horizon, only seven days away and the prince did not want to squander around the castle. He told his closest confidant that he wanted to spend the day as a peasant so he grabbed a nightshade cloak and wrapped it around his collarbones. As he glided down the steps of the proud kingdom, he noticed his father wrapped up in conversation with the leader of the Knights. 

His feet propelled him forward and into the streets of the kingdom. The market was busy this afternoon, filled with hopeful dames, which wanted so desperately to become Nobles. As his cloak continued to fly behind him with his quick movements, the prince carried himself toward the crowd. Through the crevice of a tight alleyway, he squeezed his body through, being careful not to drop the hood of the cloak, so he could not be recognized. 

Square pieces of black parchment paper floated around the sweaty palms of romantic ladies, fantasizing about marrying the prince. He scowled. Unfavorable of his fate, wishing he could be either an Alchemist or a Knight. He craved adventure, danger, and, mostly to be left alone. He was tired of having to please all the Nobles. If only, he could just runaway into the depths of the mountains or into the lands of the djinn. 

He got through the edge of the alley and stumbled into the bottom of a path leading up to the market. And as he slid out, a beautiful girl with laced up boots, olive skin, auburn curled hair and eyes that faded between violet and hues of honey-brown walked in front of him. She was struggling with the weight of the cart that she carried in back of her. Hunched over, doing her best to get it up each stair.

The prince watched as she dropped the cart and it came flying toward him. He lunged in front of it, catching it with his forearms, nearly toppling backward as he caught it. The weight of the cart wasn’t as bad as it looked. And, he smiled up at the girl, looking down on him with rose colored cheeks. He carried the wagon up toward her, despite her protests. He carried the weight of the boxy framed wooden wagon up towards the sky. 

And, he lost sight of her…but hoped that he would see her again…

-Work of: Celena StarVela (E.R. Buendia)

 

The Strange Day

My Halloween gift to all of you (I will be posting microfiction/flash fiction horror pieces all weekend):

The sunlight slanting in through the window, lingered on a bowl of fruit as the day came to a close. This was the last of light which became a treasure to the people, who were frightened, as the end was near. She scurried grabbing her rifle from the shed outside, as the grumbling sounds of the walking dead could be heard in the distance. What started as a peaceful day, ended being the last harmony to be felt to the remaining survivors of the zombie outbreak. The Aztecs prophesied this day would come, that the skeleton people would be the end of human civilization and today was that day.

The kitchen was still sanctimonious, a sacred space, and, Himalayan salt was no longer going to work against these monstrosities. The only hope was this shotgun she had purchased hesitantly months prior. She thought of gratitude for preparing herself by taking shooting lessons. She was not going to become a meal to those flesh eaters. A hideous sound came from the front door, and, she sprinted to the mahogany archway, trying to remember if it was locked.

The sound of bones slamming against the doorway was sonic, and echoed throughout the house. With the rifle in her hand, the young woman opened the door. In front of her was a rotting corpse with hemoglobin parchments drooling off of his chin. She raised her shotgun, and said “not today” as she pulled the trigger releasing a blast through the skull of the dead man.

~Celena StarVela

RePOST from Brave and Reckless..You Were Meant to Know the Night

As the moon dances across the lake Fairies fall into slumber Poppies shine brightly against the darkness Lovers begin laughing into the wind As they prepare for their midnight rendezvous The humidity of the summer winds Bring sweat to the brows of children The lonely ones feel melancholy, While filling their hearts with hope And […]

via You Were Meant to Know the Night Writing Prompt Challenge: ER Buendia — Brave and Reckless

Frightful Night

It is Halloween season, the merriest one of them all, and as a result, I have been working on a short horror zine (a compilation of flash fiction and poetry pieces) dedicated to my favorite time of year!

Here is a snippet of one of the flash pieces I plan on submitting to SciFi and Fantasy Poetry Association and including in the zine (which I will be selling later on):

The black horse rides through the flames risen from the earth

Samhain is here, the veil is thin,

Children scream and cry… frightened of the headless man

*thump, thump, thump*

The hooves get heavier and draw closer to the town

Screams pierce the dreary night

Fire engulfs the hay as the headless man draws closer

The autumn winds are defeated by the flames

But the horseman does not stop

The only hope is daybreak

But it is too late and the villagers drown in the flames

Destined to haunt on the next Hallow’s Eve

 

The black horse rides through the flames risen from the earth

Samhain is here, the veil is thin,

Children scream and cry… frightened of the headless man

*thump, thump, thump*

The hooves get heavier and draw closer to the town

Screams pierce the dreary night

Fire engulfs the hay as the headless man draws closer

The autumn winds are defeated by the flames

But the horseman does not stop

The only hope is daybreak

But it is too late and the villagers drown in the flames

Destined to haunt on the next Hallow’s Eve

~Celena StarVela (E.R. Buendia)

Note: Pen name is now Celena StarVela for any magical or horror stories I write.

I am excited to continue sharing my work with you all and I plan on submitting some more stuff this month. Finishing up a couple folklore, horror, and poems which have to do with goddesses, witches, and, also prepping for NaNoWriMo! Delving into the steampunk realm this year 🙂

Love and Light

~ Celena Star Vela ~

Mabon Poem

The time is here for autumn. The air is getting crisper, leaves are changing colors and the equinox is here. Its time to embrace the darkness. Here’s a poem of light and dark, its connection to Mabon….

Mabon has arrived and with it

People feast on grains and vegetables alike

The darkness starts to rise from the Underworld

Light takes a slumber as dark skies reign

Feel the crisp air against your skin

Let the moon be your guide

It’s okay to become a part of the night 

Chants are heard throughout the land

Harvest arrives with plenty of food

For the bellies of creatures 

Hibernation around the corner

Persephone. Hades. Animal spirits.

They have come to reign.

Light burning a flame within

Divine light guides those lost back to  their lovely abodes 

-E.R. Buendia

Why I Write…


Why did I start writing and why do I write?While developing an 8 week lesson plan for a Creative Writing workshop that I’m starting at my work, I realized that there was a question that I haven’t answered on my blog and now is the time to answer it!

           My story starts when I was eight years old. I went to a Spanish immersion school that offered a lot of opportunity for creative expression; my creativity was encouraged from a young age. I am grateful that my parents put me in the schools they did so that I could connect with my inner artist and discover my talent. The first piece I wrote was a poem and it was part of a project that we were supposed to do in class to create a mother’s day card for our mothers. I wrote a poem about the colors that my mom wore, specifically her red lipstick, and my mom kept it after I gave it to her and still has it today!

           I always felt out of place with my peers and writing became an escape for me besides reading, it was therapeutic and it was a way for me to connect with my imagination. Some people had imaginative friends, I had my own imagination and creative pursuits. As I got older and continued to enjoy the creative projects that my teachers would assign us, my mom ended up creating a space in the garage where she would post all the art projects on this wall by where we kept our shoes. I cherish that memory as a muse for me to continue to create works of art whether it’s  writing, painting, photography, doodling, dancing, any form of expression.

           When middle school came and I had this inspiring Spanish language teacher, I continued to write. At this point, I was blogging and I had created different websites that I would use to post short stories, poetry, and, journal. Each morning during the week, we would be asked to free write for the first 10 minutes or so of class. And every Friday, my teacher would pick a winner for best writer of the class. I won on a consistent basis and I used this as motivation to continue writing.

           When I got to high school, I was diagnosed with depression at the age of sixteen years old and I started to see an art therapist for a little while. Once again, writing became a form of healing for me. In high school, I continued to keep a poetry journal and would sometimes write short stories. I had a LiveJournal that I would share my work on or I would just vent on there sometimes. In 11th grade, when my depression was getting worse, I decided to submit my poetry to a national contest and I won one of the prizes. I just needed a teacher to sign a recommendation for me but I never followed through. I no longer believed in my talent and my creative spirit started to fade away.

           In my junior year of high school, I wrote half of a romance novel but after my computer crashed and I lost the draft, I gave up on writing altogether and the next few years were filled with different experiences that are now inspiration for me to write. I have always used writing as a medium for healing and expression. At times when I felt like I did not have a voice, I found that voice through poetry or through the characters of the stories that I was telling. I always felt like I could relate to characters that faced oppression, discrimination, or, some kind of bullying. And as an avid reader, it has just added more fuel to my passion for writing.

           At a creative workshop I attended with Juliette Sobanet, she asked us to think about why we wanted to tell our story, the novels or stories we are working on. I guess the true reason is to inspire others and maybe they will be able to find strength with my characters as they read along. The message I want to convey in the novels I write is for young teenage girls all over, to not give up on yourself and to embrace your weirdness…it’s okay to be unique. It’s okay to be creative and pursue your artistic dreams. Everyone goes through some type of darkness, and although some stay, there are others who fight to reach the light. I write to help, heal, and, to inspire. 

Halloween Zine 

I am excited about a short book project I am finishing up with prose and flash fiction pieces combined with original photography. It’s going to be a short horror anthology for Halloween. Making a zine is not as difficult as I thought it would be and it’ll be a cool way to share my work locally. Purpose is to get my work out and read!

Morgana outline is slow going,  been distracted by yoga teaching and important deadlines for school. Writing is my way to unwind and relax. Its been keeping me balanced.

Here’s my story for today, it’ll be up in the zine….

Swipe, Swipe, Swipe, 

Left and Right, Left and Right

The young woman moved her index finger back and forth

Hoping to get matched with the latest handsome stranger

Little did she know, she was in for danger

As she continued to swipe, 

a heart formed on the screen of her iPhone

A MATCH, finally, she let out a sinister giggle

“Let’s meet up tonight” 

wrote the interested fool

“Meet me at the corner bar on K Street” she replied, excitedly, knowing she’s in for a night of free booze and food, a relief to her penniless bank account


After an hour, the night grew tiresome as the man had forgotten his wallet and she was stuck with the bill


Feeling agitated, due to the plan not working, she got up to leave


The man glared at her with an apathetic gaze filled with mischievous desire


Thinking that she was in for a midnight rendezvous,


the woman let the mystery man follow her home

As the streets grew darker and the clicking of the woman’s heels got heavier


the man followed closely, breathing deeply onto her neck


In the shadow of the street light, the woman spied the outline of a knife


Raised high in the air, above the outline of her own head


A shriek formed inside of the woman’s mouth, “ahhhhhhhhhh”


As the blade came down into her right shoulder


Searing pain rain through her body, trying to run,


The man followed her, striking once more,


And, the woman kept running, approaching her door


As her bloody hand reached to open the door, she caught her reflection


And blew herself a kiss, as she fainted onto a puddle of rainwater face first 

-E.R. BUENDIA

The light fades…

So for this piece I decided to delve into some world building for a trilogy scifi idea I have, which takes place in another planet beyond the sun’s reach…the land is dying because its desperate for light…here’s a narrative on my protagonist’s childhood memory:

The sunsets were dazzling as the sun prepared to go into its slumber. Hues of mustard and tangerine blended together into a beautiful spread across the sky surrounding the kingdom of Gaela. The young girl cupped her hand pretending to lift the colors of the sunset out of celestial sphere that reflected off the lakes. A smile formed upon her face, as she closed her eyes and felt the last rays of sunlight seeping through her skin. Light was a luxury in Gaela and any moment that the people could get with the sun was sacred. The sun was a god to the people and the moon was as well, any source of light.

    Eighteen hours per day the land was filled with terror and darkness. Creatures beyond the fray awaited the moments the moonlight dissipated into the abyss of the universe so they could prey on the weak. The kingdom lived in a state between waking and sleeping, in a constant fear of the night. They were forced to become one with the night as the sun’s rotation grew further away from their planet. Circadian rhythms were out of sync, causing a mental disorientation amongst everyone and this young girl managed to maintain balance through all of the chaos. There was something special about her. She had the ability to manipulate the four of the five elements: water, air, earth, and, fire.

    With this power, she had to hold onto the secret because if anyone were to know what she was capable of, she could be drained from her energy. She knew the cost of her special ability could lead to her demise so she never spoke of it. She tried her best not to let her powers show in each activity she had with other children her age. She knew it was wrong yet the curiosity gnawed at her insides of how much further she could take it. How powerful could she become?

~ ER Buendia

~