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 ūüôā

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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 ‚Äúnot today‚ÄĚ 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 ‚ÄĒ Brave and Reckless

The Old Man’s Doll Emporium

Hi everyone!

Great news…you can find a sound clip of the story in my previous post up on the Sci-Fi and Fantasy Poetry Association’s Halloween Poetry Reading page this month and I will be featured on the Brave and Reckless blog tomorrow at 3pm ūüôā

NaNoWriMo prep is going great and I have an exciting novel planned to write which I believe some of you will love!

Here is another creepy flash fiction piece I came up with during the Story A Day Challenge, enjoy:

   The doll store was conveniently in the middle of two stores which had gone out of business in what seemed to be a ghost town. The owner of the store, Mr. Styles, lived above the store in an apartment and continued to build his dolls. One day, Billy wandered into The Styles Emporium and was astounded by what he saw. Each doll was made of a light porcelain paint, and brown ringlets with sun kissed highlights embraced her blushing cheeks. Each doll with bright blue eyes and ruby red lips which extended in a smirk. The curious part of it all was that all of the dolls had the same face. 
As I looked toward the countertop, Billy saw there an old man, looking out into the sea of dolls, his mind obviously somewhere else. Billy wanted to ask him the question that the rest of the town wanted to know. Why did the dolls all have the same face? For decades, little boys and girls would wander through the Emporium, wondering the same thing. No one feeling courageous enough to pose the question which was haunting the town.
Billy decided this was the day he would break the tradition and find out the¬†longest kept secret. Billy walked closely to the counter, noticing the man had a bald spot¬†on the top of his hair, his gray hair frizzed out as though he had not combed it in weeks. Perched upon the bridge of his nose were clear framed glasses with attached clear beads. As Billy approached the¬†man, his eyes darted up toward Billy and asked, in a grumpy tone, “Yes? What can I do for you, boy?”
“Uh…why do all of the dolls have the same face,” asked Billy,¬†suddenly feeling flushed and wondering why he had done this.¬†
“Boy, it is a long story. The face of the doll is the face of a daughter that I lost long ago to a tragedy. Her image has been engrained in my mind, unable to forget her,¬†I decided long ago that I would create dolls that looked like her. To this day, I will always love her and never forget my baby girl. A doll creates and maintains an image of a person for eternity. They are sometimes seen as supernatural objects. I did it thinking I could resurrect her memory. But, she remains gone.”¬†
Feeling melancholic for the old man,  Billy thanked the old man for explaining his story and decided to purchase a doll.
Scrounging up the remains of his allowance, Billy dropped his change on the counter.¬†Mr. Styles said “thank you, come back at anytime, Billy”¬†and winked.
Billy ran out of the store with his doll and a grin on his face. He now knew the answer to the town riddle. 
~E.R. Buendia/Celena StarVela