ABOVE THE LAKE IN MEMORIES

Pigeons flutter high above the north end of the lake.
It was reported that these birds put a rare smile on Mr. Kendall’s face.
This was the meeting place where his mate and he would come
to spend their days gazing at the reflected beauty of this aerial dance.
Now as he surveys the scene, he gets stuck in memories,
each coo and squeak reminded him of his wife’s soft voice.
It was a real treat to hear again; it made him laugh and he sure did need it.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

THE SUNDAY WHIRL – WORDLE #162

 

THE SUNDAY WHIRL
WORDLE #162

RANDOM THOUGHTS WHILE MOWING THE LAWN BETWEEN THE RAIN DROPS

Your sweetie as the apple of your eye may hold some truth, but who knows why a camel would want to pass through the eye of a needle? It would be a tight fit; it sends shivers down my spine to sit and think it. I figure it would be easier for it to sleep in the trees until dawn falls from the midnight sky (and you know how fragile a breaking dawn can be!) Living vicariously though beasts of burden is better than having resinous residue leaving stains on your clothing! Certainly not MY cup of tea! Speaking of tees, it would almost be like having your hope crushed after driving to within a foot of the 18th pin, only to quadruple bogie the hole! I’d be spewing dark words for sure! Instead, I’m left digging a ditch and loving it, knocking on the door like an opportunity worn thin, stirring from my idleness and I guess as long as I don’t foam at the mouth, it will have been a good day!

Thoughts that go askew
fill my mind in random ways.
It’s one of those days!

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik

RED WOLF POEMS – WORDLE #18

RED WOLF POEMS
WORDLE #18

THE BOXER

Billed as the Alabaster Disaster,
a fighter by his trade,
he made his bread
taking blows to the head
with such force that
of course, his thoughts
were in chaos. Graphic
violence does that to plastic
people; when he hit the height,
no one else reached his altitude.
But when he fell, it felt as if life
was a bottomless mine.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik -2014

THE SUNDAY WHIRL – WORDLE #161

BIKE TO NOWHERE

A man about town
can’t get around,
when he’s in a rut,
stuck in a groove
and his bicycle
is two tired to move.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

POET UNITED MIDWEEK MOTIF – BICYCLING

right place, write time

i’ve been mad for f*%##$! years,
words in arrears and fears they would never
be read before I’m dead. (Even after, I’m sure).
file cabinet full and spilling to the floor.

trolling the world wide waters I found this clever
invitation, luring my stagnation of words
into the radiant bright sunshine in rhyme.
the unexpected under-achiever, and what’s more

the guy who couldn’t get his words to fly
no matter how he tried. who’s to say a poem
a day was the way to have my words read let alone, heard?
but my word, it brought me to let my words soar.

did I plan to be a poet? ever?
If you had asked me then, I’d have said, “absurd!”

 

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

one son’s shine

a father’s pride and joy,
learned in woods, compliant in his words.
the skill witnessed in one; the other
missed, though blessed by the verses he wove.

the final exhale came at his death
and his name, the last bequeath to the boy
left to find his own way in that same name,
a glowing example of all that love

can do to nurture long connected souls.
his goal now to shine until his last breath
in homage to the Dad long passed,
seated in silent vigil from his lofty place above.

a sailor Father’s last ahoy,
sailing in one son’s shine, in love and faith.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

a mother missed and cherished

near your stone in the mourning mist,
whispers of a voice ne’er forgotten
still echo in wisdom, a generation
since we stood at Christmas on your frozen ground.

photos of you splayed in memory, kept
close to heart and the soul of you penetrates
all of us left to recall and to be kissed
by your love long after your passing. the sound

of your lost lullaby fills our sad eyes;
tears in torrents to drown our aching, wept
jointly as these visions we shared through you
dissipate over the course of years. Still the joy of you abounds.

a mother long held cherished,
in heart and mind and soul you have crept.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

A MOTHER LOST

I come to the grounds of your rest;
the best I can do to be with you today.
The sky is unsettled, and dreams long
since dreamed land clumsily shattering
like glass. I rub your stone; an image
of your name in charcoal remains,
stains of a heart broken, this small token
of the life you gave me. I listen and murmurs
blown though barren tree branches
whisper, waiting for the axe to fall.
And all at once it vanishes. Memories
of a mother departed still close to heart.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

THE SUNDAY WHIRL – WORDLE  #160

PARTY, KARAMU, FIESTA FOREVER

Every day,
and all night long
a raucous song rings
out loud, shouts and cheers,
frothy beers and what doesn’t
Tequila will only make you fall
flat on your face. This place
is crazy… a reason to celebrate
and be lazy. The only way –
a playful day full of fiesta.
Party and karamu, forever!

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

POETRY JAM – FESTIVALS

GIRLS AND BOYS AND GULLS

I sit along the shore, mesmerized
by waves in their cyclical samba
rolling and trolling on the lake
of hopeful dreams. Screams of children
playing in the surf, scattering –
chattering in an endless drone
screeches and squeals, peels
of raucous running and splashing,
flashing sunshine from their gleeful
eyes. Skies, blue and reflective
subjected to the whimsy of wide-eyed
wonder under the spell of tides.
There comes a lull, children
amassed like seagulls, charging &
retreating. Bleating like sea birds,
indistinguishable in their spirit.
You can hear it in the children’s joy.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

POETS UNITED – Midweek Motif – CHILDREN