MAKING ROOM FOR WHAT MATTERS

A house full of one time dreams
and all the minutia gathered over the years
of cheer, fears and heartfelt tears,
becomes a nearly empty nest at best.
And deep in my chest all the “memories”
assigned and attached to each book or toy
are now being packaged for a new girl
or boy. Photographs serve to preserve
all the moments in cascade,
a parade of smiles tinged with sadness.
Another box taped and secured,
carried to the car, for the recycle bin,
for reuse or (for trash); no cash
value for one man’s trash
(once held as treasures)
no pleasure in fixing what has needed “repair”
It is there where reality resides,
it hides in every pang and tug
on a b-flat heart string,
it brings me to this: once I dispose
of these bins full of slightly worn clothes,
I’ll know the girls are truly gone,
dispatched to hatch memory preserves
of their own making, taking a small seed
to nurture future purging like this.
The realization says this place is becoming
too big for just two. It is true you can’t go home
again. But would it kill you to visit a bit more?

A ROUND OF REIKIKU

Pain and suffering
leaves one wondering,
does buffering
spell relief?

**

Oh, my aching back!
A rear end attack.
Can I have mine
realigned?

**

Two hearts drift apart,
further from their start.
Can you rewind
ties that bind?

**

Hear the child cry,
needing to be heard.
Comfort comes through,
mother’s love.

**

Clouds like smoky plumes
traverse the gray skies.
As they part ways,
the sun comes.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT

I walk along the shoreline. Evening has lowered her veil showing her sumptuous soft features laced by her endearing charms. Darkness sweeps the horizon as if her arms had become heavy and fall slowly to her side. I slide my hand into hers when she would allow it and we steal soft whispers and the most delicious tender kisses, a bliss unknown to us so far. And as the stars find their spaces,
our faces are graced by a glow so bright it can be seen for miles and miles of smiles of a summer night!

waves washing away
the harshness of  summer days
as the night smiles

© Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun #40: Summer

REIKIKU (A POETIC FORM)

I had received a reiki treatment recently for some various aches and ailments I have been experiencing. Reiki is a therapy often described as palm healing or hands-on-body healing in which a practitioner places hands lightly on or over a patient’s body to facilitate the patient’s process of healing. Reiki combines the Japanese and Chinese word-characters of “rei” (spiritual or supernatural) and “ki” (vital energy). A basic idea held by those who practice Reiki is that this vital energy can be channeled to support the body’s natural ability to heal itself. However, there is no scientific support to these claims that this so-called vital energy actually exists, or that there is conclusive evidence Reiki is useful for any health-related purpose. That doesn’t mean it’s a harmful practice.

As Ann Baldwin, (a professor of physiology at the University of Arizona and a trained Reiki master, or practitioner) states “Reiki can do no harm — the worst thing it can do is nothing.”

In spite of all that, I felt better after my treatment. Relaxed. I felt no stress and no anxiety so for me, that “nothing” was something.

***

Reiki as a poetic form? In homage to the haiku, I envision the Reikiku in that vein – a seventeen syllable channeling of energy or spirit to ease one’s heart, stress anxiety or emotion. Untitled,  is written in four lines with a 5,5,4,3-syllable count. Any rhyme incorporated is purely discretionary. It begins with the trouble you look to ease and works toward that end.

My example of Reikiku:

Weariness of heart
Finds its peace through love
Within oneself
Peace will come.

© Walter J. Wojtanik

PASSING ON LOVE

As the dense smoke of ill decision lifts,
it becomes clear that a heavy heart is cumbersome.
Where once it danced lightly and entranced,

it now serves to be too clumsy and immense,
it pelts the senses like a wet sack of cement.
Heartbeats are reduced to a murmur,

they are reluctant to answer love’s call.
You can guess that all stray thoughts travel
to hell and back without a GPS.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides – Prompt #395: Snap Decision

 

LOVE IN THE PULL OF TIDES

The crash of waves hypnotizes,
repetitive and refreshing,
a resounding greeting,
in the shadow of its lunar engine.
A cyclical flow of an ebbing heart;
the give and take of passion’s thunder,
going under for the third time, a surrender
unending, unconditional and unfettered.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Quadrille #33: Sound

PRELUDE TO PROMISES

She embraced him with gentle caresses,
limbs surrounding hearts so cautiously
that their steps failed to leave prints.
Cheeks tinted with the flush of true love
seasoned by the prelude to promises.


His words flow in waves, drifts of foamy spray
offering vivid reminders that rest on the tip
of their tongues, where “I love you” repairs them,
echoing, never sounding tinny or hollow. Following

hearts that take their lead in the prelude to promises.

Eye to eye they fix their gaze;
in the nick of time they are mended.
Insidious intrusions of love’s determined dart
splitting hearts to be rejoined again as one,
heartbeats of passion in the prelude to promises.

© Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides Prompt #394: Repair

THE FIX IS IN

Let me fix you up with some coffee
good and hot to jump start your heart .

Let me fix you some juice
freshly squeezed just to please.

Let me fix you an English muffin
or if you rather, toasted bread and jam instead.

Let me fix you some bacon,
(you always love when I’m makin’ bacon!)

Let me fix you some eggs,
sunny-side up or scrambled, and when you get up

Let me fix you up for a lifetime
of many more pleasing breakfasts such as these

Let me fix the bed and you
can rest your head beside mine.

We’ll be fine. Let me fix you.

 

© Walter J. Wojtanik