LOST WORDS: POETS IN PASSING

I’ve spent a lot of time getting lost in words.
My words; the words of others. The sisters
and brothers of poetic thought who ought to be
feted. I am elated to have known you all.
Words find a way to fall onto the page,
sometimes on deaf ears and it is here
I have come to know them. I consider it
verbal violence when words are silenced.

Andrea Heiberg, your voice was a choice
I made an effort to hear, for it was here
I came to know you. Our paths crossed,
once in vile vitriol, but I had come to know
the soul that you had nurtured, a cultured
reach to beseech me to listen to every
glistening word, some of the best I had heard.
I think of you often, and I miss your words.

Vivienne Blake, you found a way to make
poetry seem like a beautiful waltz, a dance
that would entrance and soothe, with each
glorious word you’d use as a testimony of life
lived well & to the fullest. You were the best
at encouraging words to flow and allow us
to know the courage of your own words.
I think of you often, and I miss your words.

Dyson McIllwain, you verbose Scot,
you were not a flash in the pan.
Your words still stand as a testament,
meant to grace our hearts and souls.
Poetic thoughts united us, it invited us
to share the beauty of words with the
world and this world of words with others.
I think of you often, and I miss your words.

Today, I find Salvatore Buttaci has joined
his Father and Mother all in the embrace
of the Father who loved him, as Salvatore
loved his Blessed Father. His words expressed
in complete reverence, words of love
for his beloved Sharon, his cherished family,
his students of life who held to his wisdom.
I think of him now, and I miss his words.

I am at a loss. A loss of kindred hearts,
a loss of conjoined souls. You have all left
many holes that can never fully be filled.
I have been thrilled to have held you dear.
My words fail of late and the fate of them
hangs in the balance. This valance of life
hangs as well. My eyes swell with tears.
I miss you all. I am at a loss for words.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

 

SLIVERS WITHOUT SOUNDS

Garfunkel drops a chord
and it bandies about until shards
slice the air like a muted whisper.
Old friends like darkness, shroud.
No crowds, no crying out louds,
no opinions voiced or foisted upon us.
I take a scrap for a souvenir,
and use it to inspire my next tirade.
Visions softly weeping in
their vacuumed void seem annoyed.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

Quickly – Dumpster Dive

My “scrap” line used: Silence falls and breaks

COMMUNICATING LOVE

Small hand pressed against mother’s lips,
feeling vibrations of a sound not heard.
A sensation undisturbed. Leaning forward
to feel those same lips against a forehead.
A kiss to send a message of love.
Tiny lips against a worried cheek
mimic, “Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm…
His hearty giggle; her silent tear.
Mother and son as one! Love is understood.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: Sensory Play

BILL NO LONGER VISITS

I notice Bill no longer visits.
His bench sits in solitude.
Frank shuffles alone.
His “partner in crime” has met his time.
A daily trek beckons to unhearing ears.
“Hey Frank, how are you doing?”
“Haven’t seen Bill in a while.”
Frank sadly smiles and shakes his head.
“Well, you take care of yourself!”
Frank waves and shuffles along as
the winds blow loose leaves
where no one’s toes have trod.
The gulls screech a cacophony,
no conductor for their raucous symphony.
And me? I usually watch for signs,
but this empty bench reminds me.
Bill will visit no longer.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

QKJ #4

WHEN LIGHT FADES

I hold you tonight,
soft caresses when light fades.
No lustful touches,
only the comforting hand
to soothe you when darkness befalls you.

I welcome you here,
needing your touch and caress.
Relaxed by your tender words
my eyes are closed and we are.
No matter how far, love comes.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge – Day 23: WHEN_____

 

BROKEN MAN

Here he stands, a broken man,
a victim of his failure.
The surface presents a deep well,
a font of love and emotion.
But a broken man is a fissure,
 eventually exposing his
inadequacies and incompetence,
in any circumstance he enters.
A heart renter, not a giving soul,
(don’t tell a living soul he has flaws)
Where others stand in awe,
one hides in the shadow
of his mangled and miserable life.
She, a friend, who offered all,
a lover who gave all,
a holder of secrets kept
to the breakage of all hearts.
It starts with a seductive word,
it ends in despair with the truth
being heard and hurting, skirting
the root cause of his flaws.
Her beauty not-withstanding,
no glue can fix a broken man.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge – Day 20: Popular Saying

LIFELINES

Heartstrings and tethers stretch
across the moments and hours.
And days spent wondering if
the last time we met would remain
as such. Much time expressed
in admiration and attention paid
to details of another far reaching
horizon. Our eyes meet,
and our departure reads like
a greeting; premature but sure
to take place. Your face shows
no sadness or depression.
There is just an expression
of anticipation, “We’ll meet again!”
We step out of our yesterdays
into this day. The newness rings familiar.
Nothing has changed. We knew
it wouldn’t so we shouldn’t
give it such gravity. Our separation
is marked by silent brevity. Each new day
brings its challenge, and in the melange
of mnemonic thought we are reunited.
Unconditional and unrequited,
but highlighted by our love of words.
Heard, yet unspoken; never broken.
We are tied to one another by our promise.
“We’ll meet again”. You can bet on it.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge 2016 – Day #20: “What Goes Unsaid?”

HEARTFUL SORROW

Oh, how I’ve hurt you,
not meaning to desert you.
I’m not unfeeling,
just reeling with what life deals.
But my heart never left you.

I love and I hurt
I flirt between embracing
or setting you free!
No doubt I am worn out, torn
and confused and feeling used.

My mind of regret
leaves me with heart felt sorrow,
for some tomorrow
you will love my memory,
leaving me longing for you.

You have given me
all that my heart has needed
and yet I’m unsure..
I do love you with a pure
heart. I do not want to hurt.

A TRUE LOVE SOMONKA

Your distance keeps you
further in heart and in mind.
You seek to find love
that I could not offer you,
yet it is you I desire.

You stoke love’s fire.
And though your mind wanders far,
it is you I love.
And yet, you are forbidden,
hidden away from my heart.

Walter J. Wojtanik