GORD DOWNIE (1964-2017)

Gord Downie was Hip.
Tragically, he is now gone.
His music lives on.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

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I BELIEVE. YOU?

I believe that rain will fill the clouds
and will fall to make everything look new.
I believe that flowers will grow
because that rain came to nourish their thirst,
I believe in the promise of every new day
and the way my heart starts with the sunrise.
I believe in the darkest night and the brilliant
show of a candle’s warm glow,
I believe in everyone who becomes lost
will find their own right way someday.
I believe in the power of lighting,
it is not so frightening if you respect it.
and it is reflected in the power of love.
I believe in the strength of a baby’s laugh
and it is true I believe you and in you.
I believe in the magnitude of the smallest prayer
and that it is heard somewhere out there,
I believe that He who always was and will be
will see and hear it through a thought, or a sigh,
or a whisper of sheer hopelessness.
I guess I believe in everything
there is to believe in for that’s where I begin.
I believe. You?

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

Poetic Asides – Prompt #415 – I BelieveYou

Offered at dVerse Poets Pub – OLN #206

 

MY KNEES “R” SHOT

I come and go,
refusing to go Moe Slowly
as opposed to Miz Quickly (or dead).
I’ll opt instead to wax poetic,
wax my moustache
(no Brazilian bikini wax for me)
and return when this briar patch
reopens for word play. To this day
it’s one of the few I’ll return to,
to celebrate you with the folded
ears and wondrous wit.
If this is it, it was fun.
If it’s not done, it was still a blast
and I pledge to come back every last
reincarnation of Quickly nation
wherever in tarnation that might be
(I believe it’s somewhere in Tennessee)
I’d be relieved if you’d drop a line
(or a word here or there)
to say all is okay and when ready
to resume, presume I’ll be there!

© Walter J. Wojtanik

Quickly – Take A Knee

 

APPLE CIDER

Aromatic and sweet,
Purely a treat when
Pumpkins are prevalent.
Liquid love in abundance
Every sip makes taste buds dance.

Crushed and filtered,
In quarts or gallons,
Doughnuts come in tandem
Even apple pies will suffice,
Respite ripe for the pickin’.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

dVerse Poets Pub – Tuesday Poetics: The Smell of Chrysanthemums

LYRIC WATER REJOICES AT SEASIDE

The happy dead are in its voice, majestic poet! Might I be as full of song. Melodies of seafarers past haunt each true and measured step.
Lilting, ever-lifting; an offering from the weary mariner to Neptune’s ear. Accompanied in breath and beat repeats the symphonic sound of a lunar baton. Maestro of the night, unwavering. Building to crescendo, euphonious. Tympani, cacophonous crash; an introduction to the score so written. And hidden within languishes water’s rhythmic cadence, lyrical expressions of heart and soul, left to wash away traces of the moment. Never ending refrain, sing again!

crash of waves resound
long after sun seeks her rest
water quells her thirst

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

**Inspired by “On Seeing A Train Start For the Seaside” by English poet, Norman Rowland Gale

dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday: Water

DEAR JOHN (YOU’RE NO LONGER WANTED)

You’ve been dispatched,
snatched from the jaws of romantic victory.
But you could see the writing on the wall,
you’ve taken a fall most precarious,
and she was serious with her missive.
You’ve been dismissed,
given the big kiss-off. You scoff
but know your indignation was born
of your stagnation. You floundered,
rounded third and were thrown out at home.
You saw it coming, it had been drumming
on your nerves and that curve ball blew past you.
You’re finished. You’re through. She’s moved on,
so should you! Send packing, lacking any reason.
Her love’s been recanted, dear John.
You’re no longer wanted.
Hit the road, Jack!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

Quickly – Make it easy on yourself

Based on:

POEM STARTING WITH A LINE BY ROD McKUEN

thank you
for kissing me in the elevator last night.

two strangers passing as ships
      different floors…
           different mores…

over your shoulder
reaching to press

         your scent: fragrant

lips vagrantly brushing
      eyes searching
           cheeks flushing/blushing

lips meeting fully
     no greeting exchanged.

i didn’t even catch your name!

© Walter J Wojtanik

– The first line was taken from Rod McKuen’s poem, “Another Thank You”
from his collection “Twelve Years of Christmas”

Poetic Asides – Prompt #414: Connection

POETRY KEEPS ME ALIVE

I love the rhyme of words and it’s
as if I’m hearing them for the first time,
The artistry of me trying to express
keeps my chest thumping; a heart
pumping to all extremities and lingers
in my fingers and toes (and the tip
of my nose). And if I choose to say
what that heart feels, it becomes as real
as life itself. Keeping me engaged,
rightfully enraged with being.
Seeing it any other way, I’d be a dead man.
Poetry makes me thrive; keeps me alive.
And for that, I find cause to celebrate.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

 

BLACK BANANAS

The fruit fly population grows.
It knows the bananas are going bad.
It’s sad that this source of potassium
and carbohydrates suffers such a fate.
The skins are slimy and necromantic,
it is usually automatic they are trash.
But, too much cash goes into their
procurement. And those damn flies
are lured to their fragrance.
A microscopic happy dance.
JOY, JOY, HAPPY, HAPPY, JOY…
Oh boy. I think that blast of banana
has gone to my head. I dread…
Hey, wait a minute. That’s half-baked.
There’s bread where those buggers breed.
From mush to batter to bread.
A trifle better instead! Blackened bananas
make me grin. It’s a sin to let them waste.
They’d be much, much better around my waist!

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2017

Quickly – Whoop-ti-do

AND HE FORGETS

When he loves, he begins to forget.
~ from “A Man In His Life” by Yehuda Amichai

All his life he tried to please her
and he sees her now in misted memory.
A lost love in the span of years.
He hears her tender voice;
it has been her choice to remain
as his brain languishes in lost thought.
From the moment he met her,
he swore he’d never forget her, but
his mind paid little heed to such promises.
He loves her with all his heart,
from the start of their first moments
together, until his disease let her
slip from his grasp. He no longer
expresses what she has known for years
and amidst her heartache and tears,
she fears he has bid her farewell
without a proper goodbye. No matter
how hard she’ll try, she will cry
until dawns early light; all through the night.
He has loved her for a long time,
but now when he loves, he begins to forget.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2017

Poetic Asides – Prompt #413 – Recognition