A few books. A lot of words. And an audience that spreads around the globe. Signing all of those collections would be a daunting task seeing that I have short arms, albeit with a mighty pen. Anyone who has acquired any one of these titles and would like them signed, let me know you’re interested and we’ll make arrangements. I have personalized book plates that I will sign and send to you. They are self-adhesive labels and would serve the cause nicely. Thanks for your interest.
I’ve finally made the move of compiling some of my work into my first full poetry collection. Drawing inspiration from the late Robin Williams’ film “The Dead Poet Society”, “DEAD POET… Once Removed” explores the different stages of a life lived fully and to the best of ones abilities. From embracing the mantle of living and seasoned by the love of life, we take on the understanding that life is truly a wonderful thing. Whether we find quiet moments to reflect on our world, or listen to the sounds and joys we experience daily we are inspired to make our marks in the lives of the people with which we surround ourselves. With my tribute poem to Williams at his passing and a Foreword by Dr. Pearl Ketover Prilik, “DEAD POET… Once Removed” is a work of which I am most proud. I hope you will find the time to acquire and enjoy my first full poetry collection. Available at Amazon.com, Amazon Europe, Create Space eStore and more outlets as they become listed.
Click on the book cover to link to more information concerning ‘DEAD POET… Once Removed”
Tarnished and dented; a bauble of a bygone day.
In a wooden cigar box; keepsakes both, with
little more function than that. The stem fused
to the casing, the workings have retired. But,
it has inspired me to find the link. The contents
of the box play like a road map; clues to unravel
the mystery that is my history. The key, worn and
encrusted with years of dirt and oils from feeble fingers.
It lingers in my hand for a moment, its uncertainty secured.
Papers, folded and bound with a frail rubber band
line the bottom of the box. A visa document,
possibly a first issue wrapped in a tissue to protect
what it meant to an old Polish immigrant determined
to become all that America had to offer. Naturalization
documents, meant to pronounce his acceptance
of a lifestyle long sought, and their acceptance of him
as one of the free and brave. The camera buried amongst
the treasures, bellows cracked and torn, a forlorn
instrument with which a part of his life had been preserved.
It all deserved a better fate, but it is too late to shed
a single tear from your eyes for its demise. The puzzle
is splayed before you, the detective of your past.
A torn swatch of a fabric, hues faded but shades
of blue and red and white pressed between pages.
Finally, one last piece remains. A photograph.
a dark and handsome young man; heavy jacket and
a fedora pulled down across the brow. Intermingled
with other similar folk unconcerned for their purpose.
But the subject stands tall. Proud. Posed to save
this moment in memory, and upon this daguerreotype
for long after. In the background, Lady Liberty stands strong.
In his hand an American flag clutched to his chest.
A chain from buttonhole to vest pockets and a key as a fob,
a cinch to keep his pride from bursting. It insinuates
the only part missing was the watch that sat tucked
close to his left hand. A trinket; a remembrance
of the father he had left behind in Igolomia, Poland
to claim his dream. It remains strong in your own heart
as the box that holds your Great-Grandfather’s declaration secure.
You are sure the timepiece marked his life as well as your own.
Presented at dVerse Poets Pub – OLN Week #104
Attracted by lingering memories,
or drawn by a heart felt compassion,
we come together to fashion our thoughts
into some semblance of conformity.
The enormity of that which we wish to convey
touches the hearts and souls of other such
thinkers planting their seeds to flourish;
in poetic bloom we are nourished.
One to another we join; all invited and welcomed.
A home for such ideas in the garden of thought.
A place of such communion does exist. The venue is called POETIC BLOOMINGS and it is a garden of poetic expression shared by many. All are welcomed and encouraged to write.
Open to all poets of every skill level and age. All that is required in the garden is to have fun and stop to smell the poetic roses!
This poem was written to the prompt: Community over at WE WRITE POEMS. Thanks to Marian Veverka for the inspiration.
|Conceptual cover art for “I Am Santa Claus”|
My latest project has taken a wonderful new turn, and a new collaboration is being forged. The chapbook, I AM SANTA CLAUS is under review by a good friend, Cathy Milosevich Crepeau with an eye on providing illustrations to enhance the poetic text. Cathy is a talented and progressive graphic artist and a friend since our days at Lackawanna High School. She had studied at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh and was owner of Downstairs Graphics. I am extremely thrilled and honored that Cathy has enthusiastically agreed to be a major contributor to this book. A publisher will be sought to undertake the newly enhanced material.
The text of I AM SANTA CLAUS will consist of poems I have written from the Santa Claus perspective. Release information has been delayed, but updates will be posted on these developments. Please watch this page for details.
I have the books bound and ready. But, I’ve needed to re-recorded three of the poems for the CD which will include two bonus tracks of works not found in the printed version. I have had an unsavory experience with Pay-Pal and am resistant to use this function for payment. A check or money order will satisfy all conditions. The books and CDs are $10 each. If both are purchased together, the cost is $15 for the pair. Payment can be sent to:
c/o Hesse-Reynolds Sales
3372 North Benzing Road
Orchard Park, New York 14127
Please restate which item(s) you requested and I’ll have them out ASAP. The CDs orders will not be delayed at all. Thank you for your interest and support.
After three years of intensive poem composing, I’ve finally found my nerve to compile my first collection of poems into the limited edition chapbook entitled, WOOD. The inspiration for WOOD was two-fold. Of the poems included, the majority is about my Father who was a very skilled carpenter. It is fitting that Dad worked his mastery of woods while I have developed a mastery of words. Along, with that connection, we lived at 76 Wood Street.
I had gotten a bit ambitious in offering 31 poems in this collection, but strung together, they actually tell the story of my relationship with my Father and that place near the Erie Tracks where we lived and grew up.
I will initially be releasing a limited run (76 copies) of the First Edition of WOOD. I plan on also issuing an audio CD of a reading of the book. The price of either will be $10. However, the combo will be made available together for a special $15 price. Further information will be posted soon. Anyone interested can submit their queries to Walt at firstname.lastname@example.org with the subject line “Interest in Your Chapbook”