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

 

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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

 

GOODBYES

We say our goodbyes
assuming this may be the final end.
And amidst our laughs and cries
we walk away as better friends.

Assuming this may be the final end,
we reminisce about adventures shared.
We walk away as better friends;
we realize how much we’ve cared.

We reminisce about adventures shared,
and know our hearts are sweetly blessed,
we realize how much we’ve cared
now until the day we rest.

Know our hearts are sweetly blessed
and our souls have been as well,
from now until life’s soft caress;
until death’s fatal knell.

Our souls have been as well
connected, and conjoined in heart and mind
until death’s fatal knell,
these are the ties that bind.

Connected and conjoined, in heart and mind
and amidst our laughs and cries,
these are the ties that bind,
and we sadly say our goodbyes.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

Poetic Asides Prompt #386: Good_____

 

GOODBYE, ALICE B. TOKLAS

Again I am left to my own devices,
it’s been nice (as nice can be), but I see
you fading in the distance. This chance
to be free and explore was more than an escape.
It has been a discovery of self and this passion.
I cannot fashion myself after just any blathering fool.
If I drool, it will be on me, my own doing; pursuing poetry
is where my heart always leads. It bleeds chapter and verse,
and I’m no worse for wear. But there in the thicket,
the shadow of solitude explodes across the landscape.
I am free to be me and write the words by which
I am known. Fully grown and sown upon fallow pages.
Your sage inspiration has been the station in which
I await the express train to take me home.
I love you, Alice B. Toklas.
But, It’s time for me to take off! Goodbye.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge – Day #27: “Take off”

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

CRITICAL CONDITION

The results from the lab were in, but they could not detect any regret in my voice. It had been my choice to stand by you; friends together, a second chance for us to right what so often had gone  wrong, one last time. Taking note of your fragility and your need for constant rest, the best I could do was to care for you and be true to our connection for your protection and my own. My conscience would not allow me to make that same mistake, where I took leave of my senses and you. Translated: your illness made me sick.

The SUNDAY WHIRL -  Wordle #117
The SUNDAY WHIRL –
Wordle #117

Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik 2013

Written for THE SUNDAY WHIRL – Wordle #117

Offered at POETS UNITED – Poetry Pantry #158

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