MORE KISSES ON THE BOTTOM

Dear Walter,

I’ve noticed you’ve been gone too long.
So I decided to sit right down to write this.
I miss your smile. And it has been a while
since we truly shared some quality time.
I’m staying busy. It has truly been
a dizzying spring.
And here’s the thing,
it’s bummer that we disconnected.
I suspect you’ve been dejected,
but I promise we’ll find yourself in time,
and hopefully soon.
It’s just that I noticed that you are less
active than usual. Your casual attitude
perplexes me, really vexes me.
Was it something in your head?
I can understand that a man of words
can get this absurd frustration that
his conversation skills have faltered;
that such words would go unheard,
sometimes sour like bad curd.
They can be for the birds,
as you so clearly have demonstrated
time and time again!
You can’t please everyone
if you can’t please yourself.
Go back to basics;
you write what you like, like back in the day.
Find what it is you have to say. You’ll always
have a way with words. Use them judiciously.
Suspiciously view the words of others.
Those who love you, will feed on your muse
and choose to peruse you.
They will choose YOU. Let loose.
Write when time and life allows.
And always follow your heart. Start by writing
a letter to yourself. Give yourself  permission
to place your words of wit on notice.
Have a wonderful time. Wish you were here!

Signed, Walter

XXX

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

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MONTY, MONTY, MONTY

You stand out in the crowd,
a turnip waiting for your turn
to earn the largess of life.
You start out with a good wife,
extraordinary daughters,
and a position you’d love the chance
to trade for what’s behind
door number two.
It’s you and the wheeler dealer.

You have one shot at this,
so make your choices wisely.
Things sail along smoothly,
but then one morning
you are rudely interrupted
with an abrupt life alteration.
Your station is untenable,
it renders you a lesser version
in this life’s excursion.

So here’s the offer.
You can have money in your pocket
and keep your current life
with all your issues
or you can exchange it for more
than what you’re able to bargain.
It’s selling your soul for
a Cuisinart and a new car.
You realized you’re better off by far.

Life is no game show,
and not a reality show.
There is no show at all,
just reality. And with all its banality,
it is the best prize
one can strive to acquire.
Just keep what you have and be glad.
This is the best you will feel.
Let’s not make a deal.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Challenge – Day 10 – Deal/No Deal

CASE FILE: X-52

My rocket propels me;
speed of light excursions
into the darkness of deep space.
It is silent, serene and no one
can hear me scream.
My days blur into each other
and it effects my equilibrium.
A floating trash compactor
in the expanse of endless nothingness.
Major Tom has found his way home,
and ground control has shut down
leaving me to be the clown staying
weightless in a prolonged environment!
In spite of my woes: Case Closed!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge – Day 4: CASE _____

 

A CASE OF ESCAPING JOY

Distant hearts do not grow fond of distance,
and our ability to embrace that joy
seems to slip from your hands as if those charms
become like road markers in your distorted side view
mirrors. Trying to milk human kindness
from the swollen teat of reality gets harder
as the lactate begins to dry up.
Joy seems so overrated in that moment
of ill-decision. Removing yourself
does not render a solution, yet
you walk away anyway. Maybe someday
you will come to know joy and rejoice,
even if it doesn’t smack you upside the head.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge – Day 4: CASE______

THE CASE OF RELATIVE INSUFFICIENCY

The family is getting smaller, our numbers decrease.
Some because some had become deceased,
due to old age or other unrelated disease.
The kids have moved away and they stay in touch
but their absence is telling. It has me dwelling
on memories that bring a smile and a tear
and I sit here wondering when they had gotten older.
It gets a bit colder when I think about it.
I doubt it will ever be that warm again.
But then again, nothing lasts forever
except for unfortunate grudges that nudge at
your sensibilities. Neither side budges
and the chasm grows wider. Inside you
there’s a little bit of everyone who had gone
before us. It was for us that they existed
and persisted until Brother Death came to call.
We all fall down that abyss but sustain
that bit of brain that keep the family close.
A heavy dose of reality tells me we are all fated
to be ‘late-greated”, but until we are, I keep
the family that remains from getting very far.
It all starts in the heart.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

Poetic Asides April Poem-a-Day Challenge – Day 4: Case______

TWIGLET #66 – LIKE AN AVALANCHE

A twiglet is a short phrase. Or a word. Its aim is to “prompt” a flow. A thought. A memory. If something comes to mind, write. A polished piece isn’t the goal; creativity is. Leave a link, if you’d like your work read, but comments should not be expected. Twiglets are posted on Tuesdays.

Words rumble like an avalanche of thought. Warn the villagers!

WJW – 2018

SEPIA: THE COLOR OF MEMORY

Left behind.
After all that have gone before.
A box.
No one left to claim the contents,
so it becomes mine.

Scraps and relics of foregone places,
tug on my mind for the slightest traces
of remembrance.
Remnants of vaguely familiar people
who caused me to be.
Reminders of the way
things came about in my history.

The past revisited
in fond recollection.
I study the faces
and strain for a mention
of a name. Many are unknown
and will remain so.
But, in the myriad of this photographic
patchwork I find a common thread,
which binds this present
to those long agos.

Sepia.
This sepia tone
is the trigger that fires these synaptic
glimpses at who I have become
and of the people who “brought” me to this place.

Sepia is the color of memory.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2017

Poetic Asides – 2017 November Chapbook Challenge – Day 30: Back in the Day

FATHER OF THE BRIDE

The days dwindle down,
and this half smile/half frown
has been lacing my face of late.
It is great that I get to escort my girl
down the aisle to change her world
and that of her chosen mister.
Her sister stands as matron of honor,
and on her sleeve she wears the heart
of her mother where no other can reside.
Me and the bride, side by side for a brief while
longer. The emotions get stronger and the frown
is internal, this infernal feeling that she is stealing away
to play wife to the joy of her life. But that smile
takes over as I hand her over knowing her young man
made the right choice and the voice in my head
says what I need it to say. “She’s on her way!”
Way to go, Dad!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2017

Poetic Asides – 2017 November Chapbook Challenge – Day 27: _____ OF _____

BUILDING FAMILIAL BONDS

There’s a wedding soon and we’re excited,
all the required functions are in place.
A daughter bride, I find it hard to hide
the pride I have for her. For sure she will
grace the life of her fine young man.
A lad of a Canadian clan and his tartan
is true. We view him as a wonderful addition
to our crew. By year’s end we will have
made familial friends across the Provinces,
from Ontario to Alberta, the Great White North
and her glories, our stories will compliment
each other. New found sisters and brothers
joined for a cause to much applause.
We can’t wait. It’ll be great. And so it goes.
The family grows.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2017

Poetic Asides – 2017 November Chapbook Challenge – Day 21: Construction/Deconstruction