It doesn’t matter where you were,
the further you go from there
the less it matters. And don’t
flatter yourself because
your trophy shelf is full
of awards and honorariums.
Do not construct your museum!
Forget all that. For in the end,
they will only ask one question.
Are you a good person?
Are you a mensch?
Did I mention, do you serve
humanity? Does your brand of insanity
translate well in the Great scheme of things?
Be the you that you need to be
from this point through eternity!
Free yourself from the shackles
and pay no attention to the cackles
from the salacious depths of despair.
Always remain here, not there.
Live for today. Live for this moment.
Forget where you’ve been.
Be here now. That is surely
how your life will matter!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

POETIC ASIDES / Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt #325: FORGET__________


Never forget Forgetful Jones.
He’s the man who made his bones
in a most forgetful way!
He would remember things until this day

if only his “remembery” was working well!
Folks around town would always tell
their deepest, darkest secret
and he would certainly keep it

under wraps for a moment or two
but he couldn’t tell a soul or you
what you had decidedly said
because every thought inside his wide head

would have hightailed it out without so much
as a note or phone call or such.
So he was labeled with that name
that has secured his forgetful fame.

Besides, what’s in a name? A Jones
by any other name would make his bones
in anyway that he’d see himself fit to do!
As long as he could remember what it was he was up to!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

POETIC ASIDES / Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt #325: FORGET__________



A man doesn’t have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

~”A Man In His Life” by Yehuda Amichai

His memory fades. He thinks
she is a beauty. He knows
her from somewhere, he thinks.

But he cannot place her face.
He sees her gentility and grace
but not the familiarity of her face.

Deep inside his heart, he feels
the warmth of her fire. He knows
there is a reason he feels

this tingle. There is not
a single day where he remembers
her name. He is not

remembering. He is not
sure. She is purely devoted
emotive and vocal. He is not.

But, he smiles at her.
He is not sure why,
but he smiles at her.

She does not mistake it
for recognition. She knows
that he comes and goes. Take it

for what it is. His memory
fades. Some days it seems
she dreams his memory

does not, but she knows
he had loved her in his day.
He does not say, but she knows.


(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

POETIC ASIDES / Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt #325: FORGET__________


Walk gently on this earthly path,
the call of nature draws.
All things Autumnal presented
in tint and hue. Emblazoned
Equinox offering her heart;
her softening countenance.
Swiftly she moves, enhancing
every chance at her diminishing view.
Partner in life’s enchanted dance.
Weary traveler, walk gently.
Be wrapped in the warmth of her
season for no other reason
than to be your inspiration
for the duration of her passionate
embrace. Before her face turns cold,
take hold of her beauty. It is fleeting.
Sweet Autumn burns with an ember’s glow.
Before she goes, she will have your heart.
Do not hesitate to go with her. Walk gently.


We know it’s killing you.
The mind is willing but you
aren’t getting the message.
Or you’re getting the message
but your legs can’t comprehend
as your brain frantically sends
you signals to move. But you’ve
lost some agility and the ability
to find your groove. Your frustration
has you shaken that it’s taking you
so long to do what used to come
without thinking. It seems you’re sinking
into a state of despair. You wouldn’t care,
but for someone who used to be
a mover and shaker, you just seem
to shake more than you did. You’ve hidden
it well, but we can now tell
you’ve having problems. Your gait
is now a shuffle and you muffle a curse
under your breath. Life has you reeling
when you’re dealing with Parkinson’s!

(C) Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

POETIC ASIDES / Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt #323: Hesitation


In the distance, she stands in silhouette,
a profile that could shine over the miles.
From the first glance she steals your breath,
you would swear that death could not leave
your lungs any less capable. You are unable
to move; you are paralyzed by the beauty she exudes.
Your true heart beats erratically, a statically charged
rhythm. Small steps ensue, as you inch ever slowly
hoping to bring your lowly stature within her realm.
She is captain at the helm of your ship, full sail and rudder
at the ready. Slow and steady you proceed, a man dutiful,
dedicated to a love so haltingly beautiful! From the start
she stands in silhouette casting her shadow on your heart!

(C) Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

POETIC ASIDES / Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt 323: Hesitation



Stepping with trepidation.
Slow and steady, ready for anything.
Sure and cautious, nauseous to
see how nervous one can be without
spewing lunch. You have a hunch
something lurks behind each corner.
Something scary. Something surely
stalking you. You hear every
sound around you as you
sneak in the shadows. But, fragile egg-
shells were meant to be trod upon,
stepping with trepidation!

(C) Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

POETIC ASIDES / Robert Lee Brewer – Prompt 323: Hesitation


You’ve heard it said, “You can’t go home again”. And as that may be true in reality, memories and happy moments will live in your heart and mind taking you back to where your life began. Years after we had left our ancestral home, I assembled poems based on our house on Wood Street in tribute to my father the carpenter, and all influences that gave me my bearing. My very first poetry collection, a “Chapbook” entitled  WOOD was self-published and relatively well received. You’d think it would be the last word on the subject. Apparently not!

I had gone “back to the well” on numerous occasions to penned poems extending the scope of growing up  from one end of Wood Street to the other. So, my mother gets more play here, as well as the neighbors and our domain that spanned from Warsaw Street to Roland Avenue. In a sense I am going back home one more time. My next book, RETURN TO WOOD is the extension of that magical place. It had been a combination of a personal OZ, Neverland with a touch of Narnia blended in. Not so surprisingly, all three of those places had been subjects of “Return” stories as well. I’d appreciate it greatly if you watched for it and visit WOOD once more.

RETURN TO WOOD is available at as of today, and will hit Barnes and soon.



Extremely pleased that Robert Lee Brewer has accepted my guest post that appears on  the POETIC ASIDES blog this morning. Always fascinated by Science and Poetry , and stirred to action by a prompt during the Poem-A-Day Challenge in April, The thought of a PERIODIC TABLE OF POETIC ELEMENTS sprang to life. The correlation between science and poetry has been discussed by more brilliant minds than mine. But the bond they share makes for some serious inspirations for both.  The link below will take you to the WRITER’S DIGEST/POETIC ASIDES presentation of my guest post!

The Science of Poetry (Guest Post)




Your bitter comes before November goes,
a harbinger of the vignette to come.
Seeking refuge in the warm hearth of home,
away from the cold that freezes your toes,
sequestered from the Winter’s frigid snows.

Bittersweet, you watch the children at play,
in anticipation for Christmas Day.
But it is certain the curtain will call,
an abundance of Lake Effect snowfall.
Until the New Year comes, December stays.

© Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015