SMELLS LIKE TEEN FLANNEL

Soft.
Caressing.
Messing with my grunge.
Hard edged music has no place
surfaced in flannel.
But I love
the warmth;
the comfort,
but something’s not right!
I stay up half the night
writing songs. Is it wrong to fill
“Love songs” with bitter angst, while
plaid and staid flannel is against my skin?
How can I win?
Find nirvana?
Do I wanna?
Can Cobain be channeled
sans the flannel? I can’t tell
but it sure as hell smells like it!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Tuesday Poetics (Scent)

MORNING SONG

Perching on my porch this morning,
things seemed to be at peace
when suddenly without warning,
sing-song sounds would not cease.

Celestial sounds filled the meadow,
no sweeter song playing.
Rings of stars look down on below,
so swell a day for this dawning.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2022

dVerse Poet’s Pub – Quadrille Monday (Morning)

IF I HAD A MILLION DOLLARS

Money cannot buy happiness,
even the misery it buys isn't that great.
But for the sake of this debate
I'd take that million and buy a million people's dreams.
silly as it seems, I'd replace their dreams with a new reality
foregoing life's banality and offering
a better life than whatever strife they may possess;
turn their failure into great success, and I confess
I would be happy to oblige their whimsy
just to show them how flimsy their wishes would be.
Maybe they'll see that they never needed more than 
they already had. It's not that bad to have just enough.
Life is rough enough without the added burden.
It would be absurd to think otherwise.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022

*Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 7 – (ABUNDANCE)

KICK IN THE PANTS

Motivation is a powerful tool.
You'll get more mileage from a swift kick
than a hearty "attaboy". There is no joy
in any hair-trigger reaction when every faction
of boosters run like roosters with no heads.
Take your lumps instead and move forward.
That's the only way you'll ever win.
It would be a sin I you just stopped trying.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022


*Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 6 - (______ in the ______)

NO SENSE MAKES SENSE

It's all so confusing
trying to make heads or tails
of all the nonsense going on in the world.
It makes my eyes hurt and my toe curl.
Just when I think I've gotten it all figured out,
it does a turn about and puts me back
to where I had started half-hearted.
Trying to make sense out of that which
makes no sense at all, takes all my energy.
It's a tragedy of heart and mind. 
I find it all so confusing, but I'm refusing
to give up trying. It makes sense now,
when there was no sense at all!


(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022


*Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 5 - (Sense/No Sense)

CHASING MY TALE

I've fallen behind since my mind
left poetry to languish and stagnate.
And it's gotten too late to stay current
with this flurry of thought that ought to
express what beats in my chest,
I had been blessed with the ability to pose
my poetic agility with great flair.
So to share these verses with the universe
would please me greatly. So lately,
I've been working on catching up with
the calendar. I worry that the glory of my words 
would fail their to tell story 
and I'll just end up chasing my tale!


(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022


*Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 4 - (Catch Up)

UNSCENTED

Nothing to smell here,
move a long way away from 
where it originates.
You can wait until the wind shifts
if it lifts your sense of smell
to tell you how bad it could be.
They say seeing is believing,
but I'm leaving the odor alone.
Roses are red and violets are blue...
but flowers that are unscented
wither whether you want them to or not!


(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022


*Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 3 - (Smell) 

HE’S AT IT AGAIN

Here he comes again.
Feeling hale and hearty
and looking to party with words again.
They have been his elusive friends
sometimes filling hearts,
other times filling trash bins.
But when the spirit moves him,
he begins again to unlock the block
that plagues his mind. Verbosity 
in velocity becomes his grade,
made in the shade and ready to take
life's oyster and the pearl that comes with it.
So, he's at it again, making his sage words
grace his page, to engage and enrage
those who search for some inspiration.
It becomes his station in life,
to forego his strife and wax poetic,
or just go on with his pathetic rambles.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022


*Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 2 - (Second Chance)

FINDING A VOICE

So much to say, festering within
it is a sin to squander such a gift.
Lift your muse; raise it up.
Put your words to the test.
It is best to choose them wisely,
the prize lives in your notoriety.
It is your propriety to speak your mind.
You have a voice; you must find 
the forum that fits your wit and wisdom.
It become your kingdom for a verse.
It could be worse, you could be muted,
and become an undisputed mime.
There is much ado about rhyme.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022


*Written to Poetic Asides April P.A.D. Day 1 - (F-Title)

MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTERS

He agrees to meet her at midnight
always his favorite encounter. 
He loves the way she moves, 
her breathless sighs that emanate from
deep within her. Her skin is soft,
it gives his heart a nudge.
And her smile serves to melt him, to
 Help him breathe her in, for being
With her is a gift from heaven. It is hard
To not be enraptured by her with lips pressed
Together in a loving kiss, and
In the morning mist, find himself breathless. 

 © Walter J Wojtanik – 2021

**A Golden Shovel poem taken from “KINDLING” by Paula Riggs

midnight
encounter
moves from soft nudge to being
hard pressed and breathless.