Air-Conditioner

In a matter of several days, I lost touch with my own poetry challenge. It seems that I really have some time issue. Since I started my new editor job, I seem to have lost the habit to blog regularly. That coincided with the moment I started preparing for my thesis defense, too. I can’t decide which factor affected my blogging routine stronger. Of course, I graduated nearly a month ago, and the thesis was filed in for evaluation even earlier, so that factor at least stopped its interference. Let’s say I took some time to rest. And, surely, working with texts, articles and news all day, not having time to check my social profiles, has a bit negative effect on my. Summer evenings are hardly enough for all I miss during the day, and family is more important than Internet. I believe, though, I am gradually and steadily coming back and today I even took some time to see where next I could submit some work. I do a lot of reading, too. Free time is not abundant, though, when you work full-time and you have a kid, so I have to make some adjustments and do things by priority.

jom19-acTo cut it brief, the prompt for July 19th is Air-Conditioner. That is where the idea took me.

The door will open to the
coolness inside.
All sweat forgotten
as if it had never been there
The breeze gliding
through the upper room
Swipes my forehead
clean of thoughts
And missions failed
Or simply not too successful.

©2013, soulmary

(Of course, you never know which failure conceals success.)

Come With Me

Here is a new piece I wrote for a prompt at Carry On Tuesday, a site where I haven’t contributed for a long time. The other poems I have written after Keith’s prompts can be found here, here and here. Enjoy!
Carry On Tuesday #204
If you would like to read the original poem: Come With Me, I Said And No One Knew (VII) by Pablo Neruda, click here!

carry-on-tues

Come with me, I said,
as if to no one
The breeze alone would
whistle soft by me.

Come with me, I whispered
in detachment.
I’m going home, I thought
alone if that’s to be.

Alone, in that bright day
in sunny August
the afternoon of tall grass
and blue skies

That hushed wheat field endured
only
the hum of bumblebees and
orange tint of peace.

Come with me, as I stroll lonely
into a fairy tale
I saw through my closing lashes
before I let myself
into the heavy honey of
summer nap.

© 2013, Mariya Koleva