We view the horizon,
vistas that beckon us,
calling us, “come walk with us”
a simple destination in this journey
of life’s undertaking.
There is no mistaking,
the master plan from the beginning
that has us winning the race.
A sure and steady pace,
starts with one step!

© Walter J. Wojtanik


“I always had this certain contentment-
I wouldn’t call it happiness-
it was more of an inner balance
that settled for whatever was occurring”
~From Charles Bukowski’s “How is Your Heart?”

I never had to go far to find the peace that I’d seek.
It was in a reflective inward glance, perchance to sneak a peek
at a place within myself adrift on a sea of endless wonder,
never under the delusion that emotional confusion
could steer me off course and force my hand
to stand with vile resentment
facing a destination of which I was unsure.
I would not ask “where was I going?”
showing some lack of confidence. Yet in testament,
I always had this certain contentment  –

amused in my own skin and living within my means.
A man who always took strides to fulfill his dreams.
within a level headed demeanor, making choices
that were not swayed by the voices inside my head.
Instead, I choose to walk the road rarely traversed.
Not always the easy path, I must confess
but being blessed with words in abundance,
the things I utter get me by.
I’m just a guy longing for success,
I wouldn’t call it happiness –

only a warming peace that I felt,
Every night as I knelt
in prayer, I found it there,
as my heart beat in my chest
I knew my destiny was a self-driven fate
never too late to see; less of a challenge
when faced with truth and love,
and above all else a belief in one’s self.
Guided by your essence, not blinded by its brilliance;
it was more of an inner balance.

In the valance of existence
I found the futility of resistance,
the acceptance to move forward remained alluring.
Every day was a new start, a beginning –
an opportunity to right what wrongs we’ve done
in a very contrite way, ensuring
that the good we do can return to us someday.
We go, knowing where we are going, and showing
our unity as we walk along our pathways, true companions concurring
and in that, settled for whatever was occurring.

© Walter J Wojtanik



Starting from here;
going on from now.
A fresh start is at the heart
of all that is to come.
A brand new year
came to call, and all
that transpires grows
from the seeds planted
in those twelve month prior.
That fire in your belly
spurs you on, a prodding
giving the nod to better things.
A fresh start is at the heart
of perfecting your art.
It all up to you
to begin anew.

© Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides PAD 2017 Day 4: Beginning/Ending


I drive down the streets and I see…
nothing. And I’m sadder for it.
Back in the day (this old-timer says)
we went outside to play.
We gathered in the field to choose from lots of players,
teams of five or nine or however many
came out to join in. A small din
of activity, we were always abuzz.
We resolved our own conflicts and learned
how to deal with the real issues a twelve
year old needed to know. A shot to the nose
A trickle of red. We dusted off.
We shook hands and were teammates.
We were friends. It never ended.
From morning until the street light’s  first warning
our neighborhood was where we lived, worked
and played. Advent the video game console.
Big quirky boxes of knobs and archaic graphics
started pulling kids out of traffic,
to be tethered by thick clunky cords
to the “safe” environs of their darkened bubbles.
The teams got smaller and finally, they disappeared.
Kids today pale in comparison, literally.
The “prison pallor” and obesity
have replaced the sunshine and skinned knees.
Now, as I drive down the street I see…
nothing. And we’re sadder for it!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge Day 7 – Activity


In the beginning there were words.
Bold, descriptive, multi-syllabic –
Tender words that render hearts
Soft and receptive.
Words hurt.
Words heal.
Words feel the heat
of ire’s fire; love’s desire.
Written by the smitten
words expose a protected heart.
Poems begin and end with words.
In the beginning…

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014



Where you are is where you are,
and we’ll go from there. People stare
and wonder what influence you’re under
as you move in deliberate steps.
All hepped up on life and rife with
questions that have no answers.
Experience is your mentor,
and whether you’re life’s owner or renter
you’re sent out with what you’ve learned.
Bridges are burned and hearts
spurned and left for dead.
Instead of curling up and dying,
you keep trying. You pick up and start again.
And it’s a never ending series
of hurting and mending although
it is sending you further than
you anticipated. You have waited this long
guessing the diva’s song should have an end.
It isn’t over until she sings, and when she’s done
you find closure. Eventually, the curtain will fall
as we all will. Silent and still.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014



At some point we wonder. “Where did it all begin?”
Such a no-win scenario is life, in that we all end
up the same way. From the day of our birth,
until we draw our last breath at death,
it is clear that our origin
is a mystery, as will be the circumstance of our demise.

And is it any surprise
that what comes between should be savored? We begin
as slabs of clay: misshapen, raw, and undefined. Our origin
is uncertain. In the course of our living we befriend
those who will fill us precisely, quite nicely until death
escorts us away from our days on earth.

Those first moments after birth
give us a chance to figure things out; to surmise
what is expected if we elect to stay the course. Of course, death
awaits all who choose to play. But, each day is a new beginning,
a redirect to send us in the direction that will end
in our achieving all we desire. We become original.

Once we begin to be molded, we are folded like origami
seeing what is possible from our blank page. In the birth
of ideas, our pleas are heard in every word that we send
for those who will hear them. Left unheeded, it will indeed lead to their demise.
As it was in the beginning
it will be until our final breath.

But, there is no ending in death.
It is a release from earthly bonds, but our imprint will mark our origin,
And it is there that we begin
to understand. No demands to be reincarnated; no rebirth
would change the essence of each of us. We would be wise
to work hard until our natural end.

So consider this a commencement, friend.
And live the life you’ve chosen until death
takes your hand to stand before Him. Your demise
will not be in vain. Your legacy is your lasting origin.
Those who know will celebrate your birth
and subsequent days. All we need do is begin.

From beginning to end we strive to stay alive,
so we live from birth to death.
and every spent breath that originates from within will stave off our demise.


(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014




Once upon a time…

In a far away land, a man
of expressive heart
and gilded tongue,
had begun a quest
to say all that his eyes
refused to see. His heart
would in all ways find
the word or phrase
to fill his days with verse.
It could be worse,
but his verbal scimitar
he wields with such aplomb.
Upon his steed, his ink
bleeds across his virgin
page until all sage words
wreak havoc on its pristine
papyrus. Though valley and dale
poets prevail, leaving marks
on pages of their own.
Riding to rescue muses
held captive by a strangled mind,
to vanquish villains of verses
left undone – all battles won
by the strokes of his pen.
We live the fairy tale
writing without fail to assail
what lives in our hearts in rhyme.
Every happily ever after starts
with once upon a time.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014