Walt here. So, I stand on the cusp of a new adventure in my life. I will be retiring in June (June 3rd to be exact). And being within the month, I’ve been keeping silent count of the remaining days. I figured that’s a good point to use as reference, so here’s what I propose..
A COUNTDOWN TO ______________
Write of the anticipated something in your life in a countdown to that momentous occasion. That’s the theme, but you can word it however you wish to convey your thoughts. I’m counting on you all to do me proud (you’ve never let me down!) I don’t anticipate you’ll start now.
MARIE’S COUNTDOWN:
In Line for the Roller Coaster Unease climbs in sync with hills I see, and dwindling line ahead of me. © Marie Elena Good 2022 (Memories that make me shudder, lol!)
WALLY’S TALLY:
COMING OF AGE I turn each page gleaning all I can from the information at hand. But, it has become a time clockj of late. Ticking down every minute and second chance, a fated dance with my mortality. The reality becomes clearer the nearer the end rears its head. Another birthday passes, another Christmas looms. Another year at a job that has served the family well (but not well off by any stretch). Here’s the catch. I look forward to the golden years (if they are granted me). I’ll make no demands or make outrageous plans. Retirement comes and gladly before I’ve expired. I’m starting to get tired. There’s a new calendar in my future. I pray there is a future in my new calendar! I turn each page while I can. © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2022
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
Marie, your short 17 somehow captured the enormous mix of dread and thrill for me, I can the the wide-eyed little girl in line, waiting, waiting, waiting…
Oh, good! That’s what I was going for!
What Damon said. It applies to roller coasters and futures too. I look ahead with dread and hope.
Fun poem, Marie!
Walt, I know your tick-tock expectations, your waking-to-waiting moments every morning. And I love this phrase: “There’s a new calendar in my future. I pray there is a future in my new calendar!”
Couldn’t agree more, Damon.
Congrats on your retirement Walt!
Love that line as well, Walt!
Perfectly captured Walt! Love the last few lines. Marie, I’ll be on one of those roller coasters soon enough! 👏
Oh, yeah? Got plans for Cedar Point or something this summer? Have fun!!
Morning
The day is coming, I can see
the silhouette of every tree
against the brightening of the sky
from black to grey–horizons lie
in wait to form as light appears.
The day awakes, the darkness clears.
© Damon Dean, 2022
Love it Dean! Formed a perfect picture in my head.
Oh-so-beautifully penned. And how creative a thought and focus this is for the prompt. WOW, Damon!
Thank you, Marie, it just rolled out in the waning dark of morning.
Love the picture you created, Damon. Lovely!
Thanks!
Beautifully painted
Thanks!
Gorgeous and insightful poem
Thanks!
Captured like a poet!
Thanks Connie.
Very nice, poem. So much said in so few words.
Thanks Mike.
Love this, Damon, and hope you are right!
Me too. We need the light now!
Beautifully written, Damon!
Thanks Sara.
THE TASTE OF A NEW DAY
A countdown to the last drop.
When the beans are spilled, ground,
wrought—mingled with remarkable
heat.
A countdown to the last drop.
When the beans are spilled,
released, dropped—the real
grind begins when the day is hot.
© Benjamin Thomas
Love this Benjamin, I can catch the morning aroma.
HA! Another brilliantly creative response to this prompt! And again, two-for-two, I have to say WOW this morning!
Coffee beans? Nice!
Aye
Gotta have that coffee before the grind begins. Clever
Fun poem!
Clever! I can smell that aroma.
Yesterday, we celebrated our brother’s life, the countdown from the day we learned he died. This poem may be a little raw yet, but here it is.
A Farewell
From the day we got the news
we knew we’d be planning
a farewell gathering
at least farewell on this earth
for a brother much loved
And on that day
as the sun shone
warming us in that green space
we marked his life with stories
blessings love
and flowers
over his resting place
©Carolyn Wilker May 2022
Carolyn, what a tribute is a sunny green spring day to life, lived by blooming freely in the day. Your love so well expressed.
Thank you, Damon. It was beautiful and perfect for him.
Oh, Carolyn … I’m so very sorry for this great loss in your life. This poem is such a gift to him and to those who love him. The gathering sounds lovely and fitting. God bless and lend comfort and strength to you all.
Thank you for your kind words, Marie Elena. We celebrated him well. I had a poem ready yesterday that I shared with family and friends who came. That was a different one.
Sounds like the sun and the love got together. Lovely.
Thank you, William.
Those days in-between are numbing days. The celebration of his life and the color came back. Lovely
Thank you, Autumn of the soul. Sorry I don’t have your name.
Sorry for your loss, Carolyn. Beautiful poem.
Thank you, Connie.
This is lovely, Carolyn.
TICK-TOCKS
A ticking clock feels ominous,
an unrelenting microtome;
hence, I prefer the friendliness
of times I set by metronome.
Do you play the piano, William. I’d never thought about the difference between a ticking clock and a metronome. Pretty brilliant stuff!
Thanks. I don’t play any instrument, though I tried a couple of times.
Good one, Bill. Couldn’t agree more.
I want to read this to the sound of a metronome! Brilliant William.
Love the rhythm. Are you sure you can’t play, with that sense of timing? It does take practise and lots of it, such as you’ve applied to this poem.
So clever, Wiliam!
Walt, so much is going on in that poem, and it’s rendered so masterfully, especially the finish.
I agree wholeheartedly!
OUR WALT
When Walt
pens a poem,
by this you might know him:
for rhymes can pop up here and there
and there’s music in the air.
Marie, for me, your use of “hills” turns this into a metaphor. Wonderful.
Thank you!
Breath-taking stuff, especially combined with that image.
Perfection, and a wonderful reminder.
Good luck on your retirement! I had an early retirement and I definitely wasn’t ready, but life happens. Nice that you are able to plan.
[…] Find the prompt here at Poetic Bloomings: https://poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com/2022/05/08/prompt-385-the-final-countdown/ […]
Smiling broadly here
Well, thanks!
If I should remember your name, please forgive me. I believe you are new to me, here. Welcome! Thank you for writing and sharing with us this well-written, entertaining, creative poem! You got me smiling right from the start. The subject, pleasing rhymes, and flawless cadence ROCK! I hope to see more of you, here!
Thank you Marie! Nice to meet you and I hope to see you around more often! I will visit you as well.
Anticipating Kenya
I plan to go to Kenya someday soon.
My sister Judy and I plan to go.
She and I, quite adventurous, I know.
November, we may look at Kenyan moon.
We may go to an elephant reserve.
Another thing that might make many laugh.
I look forward to kissing a giraffe!
And we’ll see lions, if we have the nerve.
The antelopes appear a handsome lot.
The elephants majestic in their size.
Keep distance from the hippos to be wise.
Hope cheetahs and some leopards, we will spot.
I plan to go to Kenya someday soon.
In Colorado, may be time for snow.
November, we may look at Kenyan moon.
That sounds Lovely Connie. Hope you make it.
This sounds idyllic, especially the encounter with a giraffe.
The Kenyan moon … love it! I hope you get to go, and we get to hear all about it! You kill me, Connie. Quiet adventurous, indeed! ❤
Connie, the imagery is rich here.
Adventurous indeed!
This is delightful, Connie! I hope you get to go there.
Time to Dream
Thought some about retirement,
working 24/7 in those early days
also about quietly basking
in a summer sun’s rays.
First had to put nuts away
for the long winter ahead,
fussing about future finances,
about a more secure homestead.
The work’s been done for a while,
and there’ve been homesteads eight,
all of them quite nice,
a few of really great.
Now late winter approaches,
there’re still nuts in the bank.
We’ve had a lot of good luck
and some hard work to thank.
That doesn’t mean, though,
that we’ve stopped our dreaming,
occasionally planning
and adventure scheming.
We have more time now
for the things we hold dear,
but not for future fussing,
the future’s already here.
So, what of past thoughts,
when we thought we might roam,
well, to tell you the truth, it’s
just easier to stay home.
I’ve found that to be true. The only traveling I like to do is visiting the kids.
Beautifully put, from a phrase gardener who’s lived a while.
Dear Daniel;
Love this.
Love,
Homebody me
Ha! Understood, Daniel…
Well said, Daniel!
So many perfectly phrased poetic pieces planted here today. It must be due to the perfection of the prompt…and the fact that our phrase gardeners have lived a while
Hear, hear! ❤
Count Down to Publish Date
The latest I heard
sometime in June
my next book
will arrive.
I tell friends
who’ve read
me before
it will be something new
stories and poems
and a touch of magic
but for now
it rests in printers’ hands.
The sun emerges
on a day in May
when trees bloom
and leaves on branches
dance in the wind.
Another season unfolds
when even in age
every day is embraced,
and I can’t wait
for it to come out
and my life to unfold
in new ways.
I can’t wait
for the time
when the book rests
in a loved one’s hands
as lips curve into a smile,
the warmth felt
when a life well-lived
springs forth again.
Beautiful poem, and can’t wait for the book to come out! Congratulations, Mike!!
I know it will be a rich work of art Mike, every “day embraced.”
Thanks, Marie.
Thanks, Damon.
Congrats. That is something to look forward to.
Thanks, Autumn.
Congratulations, Mike! I look forward to reading it.
Countdowns!
FIVE!…..
FOUR!…..
THREE!….Ignition!
TWO!…..
ONE!…….
LIFT OFF!!
READY!….
SET!…..
GO!!
Gentlemen and Gentlewomen!
Start your engines!
BEEP!..BEEP!..BEEP!..BOOOP!
The show will start in 2 minutes.
Ready or not, here I come!
10 days and a bag-drag and I’m out of here.
One day there will be no countdowns.
Familiar stuff here, Earl. 😀 And yep, one day there will be no countdowns. That will be a good day, indeed.
Time will be no more. Till then, “99, 98,97,96…”
The final line is sort of sad, as i see it, given how much fun are the lines preceding.
Counting
Down day-by-day
To a number still unknown
Seems rather futile don’t you know
I think I’ll take my chances
Excellent use of this form!
It should be; he thought it up.
That final countdown
To my last day on this earth
Is all in His hands
Amen. Perfect 17.
Nice, Earl!
Marie – I’m with you, Marie!
Walt- Hope you enjoy retirement as much as I do!
You too, eh? Glad to know I’m not the only amusement park whimp. 😉
Counting the Coffees
She said she’s moving –
maybe in the fall,
maybe next spring.
She is the friend who listens,
who doesn’t try to fix things,
who doesn’t always agree.
She is the friend I trust with
my secrets, my tears, my soul.
She said she’s moving – our
regular coffee dates are numbered,
and we are in the final countdown.
Oh man … I’m sorry to hear this for you, Candy. I bet she’d love to see this poem, though.
I think it will be a birthday gift for her
Lovely. ❤
No one is missed as much as a coffee-loving friend… your feelungs well penned here, Candace.
Tough when good friends are getting ready to move, for whatever reason. Nicely expressed.
For me, this is a bingo from the title on.
That is sad. Hope you can visit sometimes.
That is sad, Candace. My friends are quite scattered about now.
A Countdown To Easing Grief
Fresh
loss
looses
flood of tears
which will never end.
You feel your life has been
hollowed out, as a piece of wood, whittled down in size.
You count the days that have passed since your loss. How many
will it take to ease that sharp pain?
Oh, Sara, I’m so sorry. Your pain if palpable.
Thanks, Marie.
Healing to your soul, Sara. Hope writing can be a balm for you heart.
I’m sorry to hear about any loss. and your poem rings true- sometimes it feels as if the pain will never go away.
Thanks, Mike. I am having a hard time getting past it.
Thanks so much, Damon. Writing is truly the only thing that takes me away.
Condolences. We seem to be in that season too. Sorry for your loss. You’ve expressed it well here.
Thank you so much. Good wishes for you.
The construction of this piece reminds me of the stages of grief. I’m sorry for the event that led to it.
Thanks, William.
I’m sorry, also, Sara. You can feel the pain in this.
Thanks, Debi.
The waiting has been long…
It has been decades
Since I saw your eyes,
But I remember them.
I remember how
When you laughed…
Your eyes crinkled
In the corner,
And they shined
As they danced…
They made me smile…
I want to see those eyes again…
But I worry…
Will your eyes
Only see me as the old woman
I have become…
Worn and broken…
I am so much more
Than all of that…
I know the days
Are growing closer,
And sometimes
I feel the tears
Crowd my eyelids…
I speak to myself of courage,
But what is courage?
I was shy and bold
In my younger years…
But do I have that boldness
That made me face
Each of my fears
Until they crumbled
Before me?
Will this summer
Have us find a way
To just say hello,
Or maybe
You will see
That young woman
You teased
When you were
A young man
Still there
Within my eyes.
Mary Elizabeth Todd
May 8, 2022
A richness here.
Indeed so.
thank you
thank you
Hoping for a happy ending to these questions
thank you
me too
I hope this meeting brings you joy and laughter, Mary.
Counting Days
bare trees
winter days
were counted in haste
as pages turned
seasons blurred
scenes unfolded
and
I couldn’t wait
rushing time
toward an imagined fate
but in spring
dreams whisper
a new day shadows
reflections of
many lives
trees once bare
blossom
seen now
at a leisurely glance
as leaves dance
and I am old and young
a story told
with dog-eared pages
so I can take a moment
some day
and look back
Feels like a story, Mike. Nice work.
Thanks, Storygal.
This is gasping good, in my opinion.
Thanks, William.
“a story told
with dog-eared pages” I like that
Thanks, autumn.
Spring slows the aging, and makes the heart dance. Beautiful, Mike!
haiku
days into spring
life bursts forth in green
I lose count of time
Haikus at first seem so simple, but they’re packed with meaning. Yours is perfect, Mike
I don’t know if this is haiku or senryu, but it snaps images into focus beautifully.
My understanding is that it is a haiku. Someone in a workshop said you can include humans if they are part of nature.. Thanks for your comment.
The Hidden Goodbye
When I started my work
With children…
I did not expect to be there near three decades.
Many of those I said hello to that day
Are still among my friends.
But I learned much later
That as I said hello
There was a hidden goodbye
That one day
We would say to each other.
I remember that day…
When I said goodbye
To the work I had did
Not in details
For the details
Did not matter anymore.
My life was filled with facts,
Those from my perspective…
I testified to those facts…
Often over the years.
I remember the gathering
Of old friends…
I worked with them
For decades.
I wanted to go out classy…
Not a drunken feast…
Of I will miss you…
I didn’t want praise that last day.
I just wanted it behind me.
I went back to the office,
And people dropped by
Who had not come to the luncheon,
And I knew some eyed my office
For it had a window.
Years of working in a dungeon
With no windows,
And later a tower with none
Except the one
Painted to hang as a fake window-
Which I moved around the room.
I knew the scavenger hunt would begin
The next working day
To see if my stapler was better…
It wasn’t…. and to see if there were
Paperclips and staples
That could be whisked away
To join their supplies…
I took my broken stapler
That was new when I began,
And the old hole puncher
That was probably made in the fifties.
No one would want them.
There would be nothing left of me
Except the painting I did
For the office…
A place of peace
In world filled with chaos.
There was my name
By the door of my last office…
The number equaled nine,
My favorite number, and then
It said with my name…
I got that years later.
The chaos had broken me.
I was exhausted beyond words.
Two friends ate dinner with me,
One from Alabama and
One from North Carolina.
What a gift they gave me
Of themselves…
And I knew we would talk
For as long as we could.
The next day I gave
Into all the weariness
And slept almost three days…
Getting up to drink a bit of water…
When I woke…
I took my next purpose…
To care for Ma
Until she was gone.
We said that goodbye
Fifty-six years after
I entered this life.
I have had a lot of endings
In this life of mine,
And I said my goodbyes
To children I loved, and
Would not see again…
I have said goodbye
To family and friends,
But I hope there
Are a few more hellos
For me to say…
Knowing all too well
That in those hellos
There is a hidden goodbye.
I knew there was
One big one
When I said my goodbye
To this life,
But
I plan to make ninety,
And that is a few years away.
Mary Elizabeth Todd
May 9, 2022
Hidden good-bye. Powerful turn of phrase, that.
It came to me after one of my many losses…but it is a truth of life
WAITING IN THE WINGS
Imagining
Her master’s degree
Seemed like a whisper
In a faraway wind
A great
And mighty fantasy
In between
Marriage
Children
Large family
All full of other
Expectations
Of her
And her time
Life
Energy
Yet
In a wild and unexpected moment
In the
Mystery of life’s turning
Her yearning
Became a reality
Single motherhood
And circumstances
Created second
Amazing chances
And within a week
Of her thesis defense
Scurrying across campus
Completing all paperwork
Late on a Friday
She made it
Just under the wire
Man behind the counter
Just shook his head
In dread
Of her last minute, timing
Furthering her recent studies
She was off on a trip
To India
In four days
But completion pays
Even when it is a count down
To joy
And truthfully
Panic
© Janet Rice Carnahan 2022
The short lines add to the breathlessness of this piece, methinks.
So enjoyed both your poems, Marie Elena and Walt! Waiting in lines can take on so many meanings, especially as time winds down. Congratulations on your almost retirement, Walt. Such a world of adjustment ahead and loved your line about the page turning! Excellent ways to express your prompt of ‘Count down’!
Until “The End”
Mama popped me out
Sixty-seven years ago
And the countdown began
We just didn’t know the starting number
But it’s better that way
Who would want to know when
their number was to come up?
Not me
It’s better that we don’t know
It would just make us worry more
And ruin any fun we might have
Personally, I like having worry-free fun
So, sixty-seven in the books and
blank pages yet to be written
Hopefully
With God’s grace I will fill them
until I come to that page with
“The End” written in blood
Sounds like you just had a birthday. If so, best wishes; if not, best wishes anyway.
Not yet. Creeping up on 68 in a few months. But thanks in advance.
A Countdown to No
…holes
opened in hearts
children shot
in the city of my birth
in their beds bullets
sprayed into houses cars
piercing the unseen
men
women
teachers
students
fathers
mothers
babies
a coward’s game
blood coloring morning
streets long before
sunrise
every night
the death toll ticks
higher
and people tsk
count the bodies
four
six
two here
three there
guns the answer
now not the
swift stiletto
palmed for fear alone
the brass knuckles
clanking for bravado
the curled lip
and steel toed boots
the stuff of a bloodied nose
a quick fist fight
but not guns
not this reality
mothers screaming
sisters and brothers bereft
parents disappeared
the eighteen year old
needing so much help
now convicted of two counts
attempted murder for
coming into the school office
with a loaded weapon
and
using it
like everyone else.
This is chilling work, resembling some of the local news stories where I live.
This countless number of deaths, with little or no remorse produces a hopelessness in people. New York seems to be heading back to the wild west days of the 1970’s.