You come and stay for hours,
amidst the psychedelic flowers
and impossible scenarios.
Running past streets and barrios
with Joses and Marios, looking
for solace in a nightful of frightful
turns and plot twists. You’ve wished you
can finish a complete thought,
but your REM cycle keeps running out of gas.
In the foggy distance, a wail. It never fails.
It seems just when you get
to the good part of your dreams you have to depart,
trying to restart every nine minutes for an hour
until your snooze alarm comes back to call.
Category: Red Wolf Poems
OUR ISLAND ALONE
In a clay bowl, a vessel shaped by love’s hands,
a flame burns brightly –
an eternal cycle glinting in the memory of grace.
A face in brilliance; this dalliance – incarnated
in the fervor of desire; a fire shared,
not fueled by wood but awakened by the moon.
This space, this island, this planet for two, dressed
like natives exposed to one another
making life so grand. Mother would frown upon us
if she looked down upon us. But I trust that
what she’s not around to see would usually be for the best.
Your soul follows my lead, a celebratory dance; a chance
to make magic by pushing two hearts
into the border of a single space the shape of one.
This place. Our island alone.
© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014
RANDOM THOUGHTS WHILE MOWING THE LAWN BETWEEN THE RAIN DROPS
Your sweetie as the apple of your eye may hold some truth, but who knows why a camel would want to pass through the eye of a needle? It would be a tight fit; it sends shivers down my spine to sit and think it. I figure it would be easier for it to sleep in the trees until dawn falls from the midnight sky (and you know how fragile a breaking dawn can be!) Living vicariously though beasts of burden is better than having resinous residue leaving stains on your clothing! Certainly not MY cup of tea! Speaking of tees, it would almost be like having your hope crushed after driving to within a foot of the 18th pin, only to quadruple bogie the hole! I’d be spewing dark words for sure! Instead, I’m left digging a ditch and loving it, knocking on the door like an opportunity worn thin, stirring from my idleness and I guess as long as I don’t foam at the mouth, it will have been a good day!
Thoughts that go askew
fill my mind in random ways.
It’s one of those days!
(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik
WORDLE #18
CRASH INTO ME
(Inspired by DMB)
Play me like a gramophone.
For you, my melody plays
upon your ears like droplets of scented
sweat, forsaking decency for ravenous lovemaking,
flesh upon flesh, a tantric dance with trumpets
in a torrent of pleasure.
Wave after wave, a cascade – our love is a river
ever-rolling. Currents and tides
do not quench desire’s fire.
They become the scenery, in all its
fine blue-greenery, a limpid pool
free of debris, veiled in camouflage
of willow fronds. Stones upon the pond
skip like mallards as they light on morning’s mists,
waters reflect and bend, refracting
and contracting. Closing fissure and ford,
the distance between dual hearts beating,
charging and retreating, repetitious,
a delicious rhythm. Blood boils,
caged animals unbridled. Sidled with
verse of symbolic stanzas, magic words;
incantations of faithless impermanence.
Textures mired in ink-like muck, a boggy
bowel, silt filled. Stroking
striped oars rowing homeward.
Like frantic marionette dolls unstrung,
it’s in the cards. Crash into me hard.
© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014
RED WOLF POEMS – WE WORDLE #17
THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART 