I'm Walt. And I'm Marie Elena.
This is the collaboration of two kindred spirits; partners in rhyme;
"the best friends we've never met."
All "Across the Lake. Eerily."

Friday, November 19, 2010

CROSSROADS (A sonnet for my cousin, with love)

Psalm 139:16. … all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

James E. Powers, Jr. 
September 23, 1952 - November 19, 2010

He stands between the living and the dead,
as ailing lungs no longer understand
the expectations of a heart in dread,
not willing to let go of all it planned.

Though comatose, his mind exerts its will,
Not giving up, nor knowing how to cope;
As loved ones, keeping vigilant, instill
An ember of illuminating hope.

Sad we cannot return to days of old,
Of playing ‘til the streetlights called us home;
Now, heart-in-throat, we watch events unfold;
Our desperate pens add chapters to his tome.

Yet, God imparts His own life-giving breath,
to give eternal life that transcends death.

Marie Elena
"...  just around the corner from the light of day"  The Boss

You lost the battle to breathe earth's air this morning, but gained eternal, celestial air.  You are loved, and always will be.  See you on the other side, Punk.


In a battle for his life,
Leukemia disassembles his cells,
One by one.


When did counting breaths take precedence
Over counting cells?

When his son’s diseased lungs
Began sucking life

Instead of oxygen.

Marie Elena

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


                                                                                                         done this
                                                                                                  for many years.
                                                                                       Tell me why I’ve never
                                                                                    noticed before. Why is it
                                                                            even the naughty ones get nice
             at                                                     this time of year? I don’t mind, since
           it                                                  means they want to get on my good side.
        Tell                               me why that is? I understand that every child, woman
     and                            man, don’t always believe in me, but I can see the good-
    ness in                    every person. I really do know. It’s a talent passed down
     from                   generations of Clauses. A telepathy maybe, or a knack. A
      crick in my back, or a tingle in my fingers. It lingers throughout the year
       and I hear a voice in my head that fills me instead with a compassion.
         I fasten my belt and get down to business. And my business has al-
          ways been Christmas. On the Eve of my big day, the elves load all
   of                                    the                                 gifts
  in                                      to                                   this
 sl                                         ei                                    gh.
  Then it’s up, up and away. Tell me why you still believe? I am Santa!!!!!


Tuesday, November 16, 2010


Crash! One at a time
each shoe falls, leaving footprints
when I carried you.


Monday, November 15, 2010


i have discarded
the long-held belief that waves
crash one at a time

Marie Elena

Wednesday, November 10, 2010


Brown, in layers,
much like it pours.
Thickly rich,
an acquired taste.
A shame to let any waste.
So much better with
a cold nose.
She grows on me.
long and lean,
a playful bark,
a stark difference
from when she was rescued.
As she's viewed,
an acquired taste,
glad my daughter didn't
let her waste. Thickly,
rich little dachshund,
brown, in layers
much like she pours.
Not much of a beer drinker,
but I thinks I can love me
some Guinness!

Walt                                                                                            Photo by Melissa L. Wojtanik

Tuesday, November 9, 2010


Caught up in Challenge.
Come and see for yourself, at
Poetic Asides.

Marie Elena

Check out the rough drafts of many talented poets (some new; some veteran):  Writer's Digest Poetic Asides with Robert Lee Brewer .  Maybe you'll wish to try your OWN hand at poetry!

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


Belmont Avenue
Nestled among family
Longing to return

Childhood memories.
Joyful. Innocent. Carefree.
Longing to return.

Marie Elena

Monday, November 1, 2010


November 1st.

Two months to a new year. The disheartening fact of the matter is that last night, Halloween had me listening to the "Sounds of the Seasons" channel on Music Choice section of our local cable. Rather raucous and rambunctious renditions of "This is Halloween" by Marilyn Manson, and "Feed My Frankenstein" by Alice Cooper. Every sinister and macabre song, sound and effect at the touch of my remote.

Step into November. A cup of coffee, leaves meandering out my window and a brightly colored Christmas tree upon my TV screen with Bobby Darin crooning "Silent Night". It's been in the stores. It is filtering into advertising. But it doesn't infiltrate into my house until at least Thanksgiving. The seasons changed on me overnight. I should have had some warning. And so it begins...