It's all so confusing trying to make heads or tails of all the nonsense going on in the world. It makes my eyes hurt and my toe curl. Just when I think I've gotten it all figured out, it does a turn about and puts me back to where I had started half-hearted. Trying to make sense out of that which makes no sense at all, takes all my energy. It's a tragedy of heart and mind. I find it all so confusing, but I'm refusing to give up trying. It makes sense now, when there was no sense at all! (C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022 *Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 5 - (Sense/No Sense)
Trees rustle and sway
and make a day of it.
Leaves, cut by the winds of change
rearrange, only to rediscover
home again. Nestled and rested,
the best place to recline.
But I find it annoying,
a noise toying with me.
It is there, somewhere
near the patch of saplings,
rapping an echo as of rabid canines.
It’s fine, but it hearkens to me,
this bark of the dogwood trees
unleashed. Their bite’s not so bad!
© Walter J Wojtanik – 2018
Here lies a man who always knew
what to say when it was needed,
never needing to define his words;
always wishing his words defined him.
Forever hoping to be read,
but eternally silent now.
He’s dead. ~ Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012 (My epitath!)
It was a slow and painful demise.
It would have been wise to go with the flow
and show I was more than an aromatic alligator
bag full of words. Even a herd of buffalo
would know it would hurt if allowed
to blurt out poetic words. It’s absurd!
Never thought I would swoon on the third
day of a 1974 June. My vision gone too soon.
But you may have guessed, I lied!
I don’t own an alligator bag!
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017