My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
Garfunkel drops a chord
and it bandies about until shards
slice the air like a muted whisper.
Old friends like darkness, shroud.
No crowds, no crying out louds,
no opinions voiced or foisted upon us.
I take a scrap for a souvenir,
and use it to inspire my next tirade.
Visions softly weeping in
their vacuumed void seem annoyed.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
My “scrap” line used: Silence falls and breaks
“Take your baby by the wrist
And in her mouth, an amethyst
And in her eyes, two sapphires blue
And you need her and she needs you
And you need her and she needs you.”~‘Dance Hall Days’ Lyric – Wang Chung
She stirs your longing,
an incantation, your libation
sipped and savored
flavored by the grape
and sharing its purple hue.
You become inebriate
as you wait for her effect to fade
and you’ve made your vow
as to how to even sober up
from your love filled stupor.
Or if you even wish to.
So you await her last call, all you know
is that she has become your addiction;
your heart’s true affliction.
Your dereliction is complete,
And your heart repeats, you need her
and she needs you.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: This One’s For You
The lyric contains amethyst which is my birthstone. The Greeks believed amethyst kept you from becoming inebriated.
The door is always open,
for friends – the spice of life.
To share some time, some talk,
some java, some wine and sit to opine
about what greatness life has to offer.
The coffers are always full
when a friend comes to call.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
As long as you remain in my heart,
you are never gone. You are
the one who has brightened my days
always and in all ways.
I can never miss you.
You are never gone. You are
what a smile is to a bad day
always and in all ways.
I hold you here where my heart resides
deep inside, you are never gone.
You are the one that had become
a habit I couldn’t break. It would take
as long to purge you from that place
as it would take to traverse space
and come back here safe and sound. I have found
the seed you had planted continues to blossom.
No gloom befalls me. You enthrall me
as you always have, all ways and forever.
You are never gone, as long as I breathe.
I believe in the joy of you! It’s true.
As long as you remain.
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
Poems of Garden Gnomes – Lingering
Elfin folk play pat-a-cake,
a tradition passed down
from small hands to small hands.
Passing time with elfin rhyme
sing-a-song of sixpence
and used as a self-defense,
they play. They never stray
from their merriment,
these scary men of minuscule means.
Caught in a blur, an inky stain
where the stinky little buggers
fester. They are sequestered
in their hovel homes,
pat-a-caking til the cows come.
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
How’m I doing?
I’m glad you asked!
My lower back is killing me,
sciatica and something
internal, I think. And this
infernal pain in my right shoulder
feels like a boulder
landed on it ,
it’s giving me fits.
And my left is starting to ache,
doesn’t take much over-compensating
to relay that pain across to there.
This weight loss may not
be the result of good eating
after all. Not sure what to call it,
and hope I can stall it until
after December.
I don’t remember things like I used to,
and I could use two Aleve to relieve
what ails me. It never fails me.
Once I figure out how to relate
to my prostate’s insolence…
you know, I should cut the violins
and quit complaining.
I’m serving up too much information.
How’re you doing?
Oh, I’m glad you asked…
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
Awards and background information,
and contact information for contacts; affiliations.
Memberships are credentials of experience; an
expert in the field of media. Marketplace credibility of
media appearances, connections.
Personal anecdote platform. Professional organizations
and the promotion of proven track records.
Public speaking and published works,
a publishing experience showing demand for their book,
a writing track record.
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
They had dinner on TV trays.
They have been doing that for days.
It sort of plays with their order
but they didn’t care. It just felt right.
Every night, place settings for two
on separate platforms flying in the face
of familial norms and old habits.
Their kitchen table had become
a fable of decorum; they had one.
But, it had become their biggest shelf
upon which fragments of their lives rested.
Who’d have guessed it would be so?
The Wormwoods come to Buffalo!
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
Red Wolf Journal – Prompt #330: Change
Do you take everything for granted?
And does your truth live within you?
Are questions that are never asked
ever answered?
Is it right to set your own standards?
Or should you demand to know how to go?
Is the road less traveled a good choice?
Does your voice ever come unraveled?
Do you allow no to be a solution?
Can roadblocks bring you to some conclusion?
(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2017
I am a moody bastard. And my mood drives my every moment. It dictates my words. The poetry I choose to pen is as moody as I end up being. Let’s face it; I can be a hopeless romantic. Think two words. Hopeless. Romantic. I can park on a snarky moment and squeeze the life out of it. I love a good laugh, so any gaff in poetic parlance does a happy dance within me. I can be whatever I need to be. I am the why I write what I write. Drips of conceit, but not really. I have learned long ago that the right words will come at the right time. Any rhyme bears no resemblance to anyone but me. I try to emulate myself with every new waking day, seeing if I could surprise or shock myself.
The autumn of life
Paints with a vivid palette.
The growth of colors
© Walter J. Wojtanik
dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday: Why Do I Write What I Write?
My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
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