My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
You reach when my arms fail,
and bail me out in a pinch.
Prickly sting, you bring me
comfort and ease. Please
don’t let me down without
the courtesy of a reach around.
I’m glad I found you, but there’s a hitch,
a little to the left is where I itch.
Irritant catcher; back scratcher.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012
It’s been a rough road,
but I’ve been told that’s how the ball bounces.
Every ounce of life is a strange frenzy,
and in the end we settle our wayward hearts
and start falling in love all over again.
The results are sublime; a robust chance
to channel life in a dedicated “heart attack”.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012
Written for THE SUNDAY WHIRL – Wordle #67
My pleas,
on deaf ears
I fear.
Regret, reset;
knees –
Pretty please?
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012
Sunshine reigns
leaving shadows behind,
I find.
Bright light
until
it rains!
No passion.
Empty hearts lacking
love’s backing.
Unfulfilled, chilled;
shaken,
not stirred
© Walt Wojtanik – 2012
“A quark is an elementary particle and a fundamental constituent of all matter. Quarks combine to form composite particles, the most stable of which are protons and neutrons which join to form hadrons, the heart of atomic nuclei.”
To a poet, words are our quarks, and when joined together form elementary poetry. A HADRON is an untitled poetic form consisting of just twelve words. The fundamental of brevity is the key. It offers two random glimpses of complimentary thoughts, (the proton and neutron) to form our hadron poem. Created by Walt Wojtanik.
LINE 1: Use two words to set the subject.
LINE 2: Three words that relate directly to subject of LINE 1
LINE 3: two words completing the thought begun on LINE 2, describing it.
The next three lines convey a new thought related to the first in an abstract way:
LINE 4: Two descriptive rhyming words
LINE 5: One word setting up the two-word action conveyed in
LINE 6.
Written for WE WRITE POEMS – PROMPT #115: Counting Fingers Plus Two
Heavy burden.
Weights on shoulders
like boulders.
Aching, breaking;
quaking,
knees shaking.
© Walt Wojtanik – 2012
Race cars.
On track winners;
wheel spinners.
Inviting, exciting;
real
nail biting.
© Walt Wojtanik – 2012
Poets ponder
words to express;
to excess.
Daring pairings;
preparing
to rhyme.
© Walt Wojtanik – 2012
Written in conjunction with WE WRITE POEMS – PROMPT# 115 – Count Your Fingers Plus Two
The winds change unexpectedly
setting everything in chaos
I toss
and in turn I become airborne.
I will hold no malice or scorn,
I’m worn
from flapping my arms so quickly.
It is a sickly guttural
feeling
with which I’m dealing, a feeling
of freedom and some kind of angst.
I wretch,
and if someone would fetch me an
air sick bag, things would go a lot
smoother.
If music soothes the savage breast
my guess is that primal screaming
will not
cure the flippy stomach I’ve got.
I hate to fly, if you haven’t
guessed it.
Gusts and upheavals, retrievals
of my wits, i have these fits when
I fly.
© Walt Wojtanik – 2012
Here lies a man who always knew
what to say when it was needed,
never needing to define his words;
always wishing his words defined him.
Forever hoping to be read,
but eternally silent now. He’s dead.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012
The gentle in and out of life,
fills her lungs with each cautious breath,
she lives
each day as if it were her last.
My hard and fast rule, is this:
find bliss
within every waking moment,
the gift of life is heaven sent.
Feel love
in the people that surround you,
return every heartbeat in kind.
My mind
swims out to the choppy waters
filling this torrent of despair.
Who dares
to deny her the love she craves?
Love saves the broken hearted from,
itself.
~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~
She lives for the moments like this:
a tender kiss and words of love
heart felt.
And we’ll go forward forever.
Never lose sight of the future,
or now!
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2012
Take a few extra moments, be good to yourself.
Your satisfaction is always guaranteed.
There, near the produce introducing
her light aromatic blend. Just don’t breath
in the spray. We stand behind your fresh taste;
we never waste paper (from responsible sources)
and of course, it makes ordinary meals extraordinary.
No Preservatives.
No MSG.
No artificial colors; flavoring.
Savoring it with every last bite.
What are you hungry for tonight?
No doubt about it, we love our midnight snack;
she’s more of a “morning person”.
Shake well. Satisfy your ravenous craving.
Massage pouch until desired consistency,
bring your meat to room temperature.
Put into a 350° pre-heated oven,
it’s easy to get off. Feel it working;
know you’re protected.
Serve hot; refrigerate after opening.
Written for WE WRITE POEMS Prompt #113 Supermarket found poetry
My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
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