When you lay on me in the mornings
I’ve told you before
I’m pretty sure there’s
no where else for you to go at this point
as we share a cheek there’s no
closer. Despite your attempts to
press yourself in closer, a shove
to just see how
much closer we could be.
We share a cheek
in the way we have
since we brought you home
and I felt all of you on my shoulder and against my
face as you grew bigger.
We share a cheek
As the bright red of the rising sun
gets cut up by the things along the way
and the light remains runs along our
indistinguishable skin.
Son, you
are the what of my lungs
the light of my sight
the blood of my heart
the stone of my bones.
Right now?
There’s no where else to go.

Look, I don’t know exactly how succession works,
But Charlemagne would—could not endure such
Blasphemy as the oeuvre of early crowning.
How, then, did the moniker
Implant itself enough in these short weeks that
Wrinkled imprints persist within the borders of
His eyes (the brows and lids), as
If to deride the See as scowling when the truth
Is he did first.

Tides and tithes rise at his arrival; what good
Are moons to kings who have the sky, at least
The brighter parts of it, out now where it once was
Locked. A tower maybe; more a pillory, and I’m not even
Cromwell. But to be truthful, in my stewardship of
Le Dauphine, I breached too quick, and shallow.

So then, if she, of noble title, French—we’re civil now—and
Thus obliged, at something so much lacking ceremony as
An inaugural late-noon nuclear lunch, placed the scepter at his feet,
And called him “King”, and as the eighth and ultimate, he silently
Accepts, who am I to question the existence of a pastry based
On the existence of frosting alone? Or would I rather chew the
Hard end of this pacifier in frustration?

I’ll take the cake.

Quotidian

Impose upon the world your flourish.
Wear a flower in your hair.
Or harken back to when decorum
Tapped on social shoulders,
Hinting firmly about pocket squares
And creases where they stand.

Crack eggs and make your omelets,
In iron skillets cast in leaner years;
Much grander now for passages of time.
Write letters, notes, and daily lists
At roll-top desks – well-oiled –
With a sturdy, stately frame of cherry wood.

Be brave enough to be peculiar.
Your world belongs to you,
And who’s to say when singular
Breaks ties with wrong or right.
Impose upon the world your flourish.
Wear bouquets of flowers in your hair.

I am proud to announce the release of Pieces of April, my first book of poetry. Anxiety Press has supported and published this new release. The author has entered the world of publication for the first time, but the perspective is certainly not tentative or hesitant.

Reviews have so far been stellar, with two accomplished professional poets rating it 5 of 5 starts.

See this from Peter Mladinic:

Peter Mladinic
5.0 out of 5 stars Word Paradise
Reviewed in the United States on December 1, 2024
Verified Purchase
The love of the spoken and written word is evident in Pieces of April, a collection of poems in part autobiographical and in part speculative, with an abiding concern for what Willam Faulkner calls “the old verities and truths of the heart.” “For when I light my nervous cigarette / The shifty smoke wafts about my head,” the speaker says in “Premonitions,” which begins the collection.
The poems resist the resignation “To finding comfort only in withdrawal,” a line that concludes Pieces of April. Among its best poems are: “Hershey Gold,” “Crystal Clear,”
“The Chimney in the Attic,” “Old Friends,”“House in the Clouds,” and “Why Should I Climb the Lookout?,” a response to Pound’s “The River Merchant’s Wife.” “Lookout” is one in a series response poems to poems by
Eliot, Frost, Roethke, and other notable twentieth century poets. Repko’s individual voice comes through, a voice attuned to the sight, sense, and sound in poems where his first-person I becomes first-person we.

• This was originally written in 2023, when the hope was that the end of the pandemic and the start of the recovery had begun – finally.

It’s still pertinent, and I am hoping we have finally turned the corner.

A Prayer for 2025

I am not in the business of crafting actual prayers. I will leave that for the more holy and devout. Yet I intend to craft a statement that functions like an invocation, if I am successful, in that it asks for intervention and help in a troubled life and world. The audience is free to think in terms of whichever cosmic force s/he prefers. See, this is all about inclusiveness.

Looking ahead to 2025 and beyond, I genuinely pray that our country undertakes a psychic hike to reclaim the spirit of optimism and hope that has characterized the larger part of our history. From Crevecoeur to De Tocqueville and beyond, the American psyche, under the moniker of the American Dream or Way of Life, has been founded upon a powerful trust in the individual as a moral, ethical, self-reliant, and secularly ‘holy’ being.

When wiser and greater minds conceived of a government of the people, and bestowed the power of justice and honor to the collective will of that same people, they did not exclude those who lacked a degree or toiled in a less than academic realm. Yes, they failed to identify women as stakeholders, but the impetus for that remains complex.

I wish for 2025 and beyond that we as a people recalibrate and refocus our stubbornness. In a polarized world, it is futile and fruitless to keep an obstinate adherence to certainty that our principles are pure and righteous, while those of our rival are evil and damning,

I pray in 2025 that we have the wherewithal and the humility to question our own adamant truths. Knowing that groups seeking power always try to divide and conquer, I would confer upon my compatriots, whatever their stripes, the presence of mind to doubt and to suspect all assertions. The heuristic should start with “What if I have been misled by my own people?”

In 2025, I see no way forward if we lack the objectivity to question our own positions with the same ferocity that we distrust the arguments of the other tribe. We shouldn’t be foolish enough to think that our affiliate group has a monopoly on truth, I pray. So it is only fitting to assign Cartesian doubt to even those things I absolutely know to be true. Right?

Wherever you roost or lean, I earnestly pray for courage for the American people. We are all aware at every turn of the reasons the sky is falling this year. It matters not if the shattering of the firmament is caused by climate change, voting rights, drilling permits, medicine shortages, critical race theory, drag shows, or gerrymandering. We should all screw our courage to the sticking place {with apologies to Lady Macbeth} and we shall not fail to maintain our efficacy. Lord knows we have been chronically reminded of the things we should fear. I truly pray that we all stop being so scared.

For the imminent and more distant future, I ask for an infusion of action and follow-through directed to local charitable arms. We all have causes in our daily lives that we know are worthy, whether it’s the more conventional soup kitchen, clothes drive, food pantry, or relief effort.

I don’t cast judgment on your inclination to make a donation to a cause, as that is a worthy and wonderful gesture. But I think the more effectual gift of time, attention, and talent is far more likely to transform both the benefactor and the beneficiary. When they enjoin us to ‘be the change we wish to see,’ they are talking of enduring and sustained commitment to ourselves and our communities. I can make a donation and change almost nothing in my own life, and so investment that affects me is at least as important as the gift.

In 2025, I ask for an infusion of the powers or forces that make people identify their likenesses to one another, and accept and embrace their differences as well. No one will ever accuse me of being especially effusive or empathetic, so I am not making a plea for some lip service to any one cause or aggrieved constituency. Rather, I am wishing that we can take a moment to think.

I hope we can recognize when and where we require that others, especially the less fortunate, should mastermind their rehabilitation by accessing those skills and abilities that we most proudly have developed.

In other words, I pray that we get better at seeing others as they are, warts and all, and then hold them accountable for the self-reliance of which they themselves are capable. We spend too much time, I believe, expecting others to magically “be like us.” If we have been able to pick ourselves up after setbacks or hardships. I wish that we would learn to be proud of ourselves and our triumphs. I also hope we remain humble enough to know that others haven’t willfully refused to employ those same traits. We really are different.

Finally, I will try to encapsulate these thoughts and wishes into a simpler, more easily-understood request for help and intervention of the most spiritual kind.

I pray that all of my fellow citizens give all others the benefit of the doubt. I think we all want what is best for the country, and that we can find ways to achieve collective good without fostering selective harm.

I pray that America reclaim its backbone, and its honor, by facing our fears with resolve and courage. A pervasive sensitivity has rendered all of us worthy of being called “snowflake” in certain moments.

I pray that we may all truly appreciate how much we have, and how fortunate we are in all regards, and that we pledge to share some part of our plenty with those who have not been as fortunate. That sharing should proceed without judgment or condition, except that we pray those beneficiaries will someday be capable of doing the same for others.

Finally, I pray that the people in this world care for others by keeping themselves as powerful, committed, and capable as they possibly can, for as long as they can.

We can choose respect, and demonstrate it, especially in the face of adversity. At many times in our history, adversity and struggle engendered and nurtured our exhibition of greatness.