POST MORTEM

You weren’t fixing on leaving,
you had other plans.
But, God laughed
and you were gone. A memory
written ad nauseum,
causing hearts to ache
at each re-telling. Eyes
swelling with tears
laced with fears of  folks forgetting.
It’s hitting home the more
distance passes and a trace of your face
flashes in my mind from time-to-time.
You are nine years in passing
and I keep amassing poems
well long after you’re gone.
And my life moves on.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2018

Poetic Bloomings – Prompt #211: And I Quote #1

 

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

 

OH, CAPTAIN!

ROBIN WILLIAMS 1951-2014
ROBIN WILLIAMS
1951-2014

Your journey has ended,
by your hand and much too soon.
You, the buffoon, the clown, the genius
bringing joy to the world.
But, for what it’s worth, who gave you mirth?
Your torment was an illness,
your illness was your privacy.
In the shadows of a mind so sharp,
that spark of madness run amok.
You had been stuck for a while
and the smile you wore tore your heart
to shreds. We laughed at your brand,
and demanded more of you
but, you had given enough.
It is tough that you didn’t save
some for yourself. We took you
seriously when your dramatics
gripped us. It ripped us as well,
your living hell of which you would tell,
of powders and pills and rivulets
of distilled potions, notions of answers
left un-questioned; too many to mention.
You’ve gone back to the egg.
You have been silenced like Ellen James.
Long did you stand as the grown-up Pan.
You have sucked the marrow out of this life.
There is no Doubt (the) fire has gone out.
It makes us want to shout,
Oh Captain, My Captain!
Thank you for your gift,
we’ve enjoyed it while it lasted.
And in our hearts you will live within a smile.
What dreams may come, you will greet us.
You will meet us with a joke in tow.
We know your journey has ended.
The Genie has been freed.
The Buffoon. The Clown.
The Genius indeed. Oh, Captain,
Bon Voyage!

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

THE VALEDICTORY OF AN AUBURN MUSE

(The Last Time I Held Her)

She was skin and bones, frail
as all skeletal remains become,
with every last breath of life
still sticking to her ribs. Every
exhale came with the burdened
anticipation of the next deep gasp.
Her eyes, a vacuous stare, looking
through me and seeing nothing but
a chance to finally go home to her rest.
Well past the need  for words; or the
ability to express the same. Her face
contorted with each painful smile,
pleads in silence for one last embrace.
Wrapping my arms under her absence,
closing around her distance; squeezing
through my need to feel something,
only to fail miserably. A flame, extinguished
well before the light in her eyes had dimmed.
And I stood in her darkness, clinging
to the shadow of her and any lasting
memory that she had left me.
The last time that I held her
was my last goodbye.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

Written for NaPoWriMo – Day 6 – Write a Valedictory