Sir Edmund Hillary had it pegged. I scale my mountain of poetry because it is there. I write poetry because I can. I write poetry because I can’t sing or dance. I had given my voice a chance to entrance and entice others to emotion. I reach into my heart and write how it feels. It is as real as breathing. I am seething with the life force of words.

Who brought me to rhyme is a mystery. My history with words stemmed from a debilitating shyness in my youth. The truth is I would stammer and stutter, but my words seemed to flutter on the page. At that stage, it was my saving grace. I’d never lose face unless my words failed me. From romantic to farce to fantasy, I would fancy expressing my soul with words. Neruda thrilled me. Langston Hughes was my soul. McKuen and Lennon spoke in emotions I could only imagine. They were mentors all.

Sparrow whispers in sweet song
long after nightfall,
Mountain shadows slumbering


(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

14 thoughts on “WHO? WHAT? WHY?

  1. I agree. I write because I must and from my heart. A lovely haibun of heart and writing. Your blog is well named. The haiku at the end is spectacular. The best I have read yet.

  2. A pragmatic approach to poetry the Hillary way, Walt! I love the idea of ‘seething with the life force of words’ and words fluttering on the page. My mother loved Rod McKuen and I used to present her with his poetry books at Christmas. I’m more a Lennon kinda gal. 🙂

  3. !! “I write poetry because I can’t sing or dance. I ” I am borrowing that and putting it on my blog margin. I will give you credit. My husband and all my children, act, sing, and dance. I transport them and sing only with the windows rolled up 😉

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