AUTHOR

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

Poetic Asides – Prompt #411 – Information

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CHALLENGE EVERYTHING

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

dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: The Answer is 42

SEVENLING (OUR HEARTS GO OUT)

Our hearts go out to the victims of destruction
knowing reconstruction will be long and hard.
Our hearts are heavy for the losses they encounter.

We can offer our thoughts and prayers
We can give financial assistance.
but no amount of resistance will let us

ever forget, we are all in God’s hands

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

Poems of Garden Gnomes – Form Friday: Sevenling

JOBS WEAR NO COLLARS

Eager to Create Blue-Collar Jobs, a Small Business Struggles

I love to work.
But, it is always work.
Hard, demeaning,
satisfying, trying,
seemingly endless.
Cutting like a hot knife
through spoiled cheese;
stinking to high heaven.
I’m thinking about how my father
would come home from his clerk
position at the steel plant roll shop.
Yet, I can’t recall if his collar was
white, or blue or chartreuse,
(there’s no use thinking too deeply)
All I knew is we were never without,
food, or clothing or shelter
from his sometimes helter-skelter inebriation.
This was our life station. Children
of a once-steel town. Not down on our luck,
just lucky to be. We could see up from there
and that became our fervent goal,
to leave my heart and soul to the hometown
and expecting to escape with the rest of me intact!

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

Quickly 9/5/17 – Write Hard

Poems of Garden Gnomes – Getting to Work

DRAWN TO THE WATER

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky  ~John Masefield from “Sea Fever”

I am drawn to the water,
a sanctuary dank and deep,
where Neptune’s sleep is unsullied
and tranquil. I will go there

where a sailor’s son should roam,
a second home for a weary traveler,
a reveler in life’s safe harbour.
Looking towards horizons and distant

places, of  foreign faces that grace these places
and dreams of adventure of which there are many.
Anyone who is so drawn is a son of the sea,
a welcomed one who is asked but one thing,

“What will you bring to the sea?”
for treasures that abound are found deep within,
and in their discovery we find ourselves.
I am ever-drawn to the water

a sanctuary dank and deep,
where the son of a sailor finds eternal sleep.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

Poetic Asides – Prompt #408: Second Home

Sea Fever

 I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

SAPPHIC STANZA IN POLISH POETRY

Through my heritage I’ve come to find myself.
There is no book here that sits upon my shelf,
it was tradition through which I have been found.
It’s been handed down.

Many customs come from our Old Country home,
brought to bear here where my grandparents had come.
Assimilated and fated to be free
in their new country.

© Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides – Prompt #408: Second Home

** I’ve been searching for a poetic form that could be considered “Polish” in nature. Apparently many classic Polish poets have adopted the Sapphic Stanza which contains four line with syllabic counts of 11(5+6), 11(5+6), 11(5+6), 5 and a rhyme scheme of a, a, b, b. Variations and further analysis can be found here.

SKY IN CONTRAST

The sun shines in the early morning sky,
to dry the pouring rains that had fallen.
Lake-effect rain is in the air again.
Over the lake the sky is charcoal gray,
the clouds are miserable and sullen
and fill me with a comparable disdain.
A counter-point that paints a violent scene,
both bright and dark combatants throw all-in.
The winds antagonize, they have free rein
to prod the skies once placid and serene.
Hard rain.

© Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides Curtal Sonnet Challenge

Offered at dVerse Poets Pub – Open Link #199

 

LIFE IN BITS AND PIECES

We live in bits and pieces,
a junk drawer full of memories,
moments held close to heart
that start to fray on the ends
and sends you careening into fits
of rage and bits and pieces.

It never ceases these bits
and pieces of fleece that smell
like her perfume all these years
here after. Shards of laughter
stuck in the rafters of a mind
in which he would come to find

words and scraps of paper,
pieces upon which he had written
skits and bits of humorous falderal!
Post-its hosting numbers and names
gone up in the flames of a pathetic pyre,
a fire that was once desire and is now

not long for this world. A dervish of a girl
spinning in a whirl of dust and debris,
and me ready to steady the tumult,
a Walt at the ready to repair what was
laid bare, a life rife with a smattering
of tattered thoughts and ideas, pleas

for a quick end (please give me a quick end)
and a friend with which to trade barbs
and count carbs as the passage of time.
Lengthy rhymes that were once big hits now spread
as bits and left in pieces of peace
praying for a new lease on these bits and pieces,

or a bigger junk drawer to hold this shrapnel
well meant to be moments held close to the heart.
Always a good start. We live in bits and pieces.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides – Prompt #393: Piece

Offered at dVerse Poets Pub – OLN #196

LA PRIMAVERA

Le nuvole partono e il sole offre una fanfara per la grazia del mondo. Incastonati in un’alcova brillantemente illuminata, due anticipano l’arrivo di aromi e trattamenti freschi per la tavolozza, la gustosa pietanza servita nel loro nascosto santuario del prato. Bouquet dolci e entusiasmanti fragranti, biologici e terrestri. Non considerano degni di essere seduti al tavolo ma apprezzano l’invito a partecipare al suo splendore. Sautéed in bounty della terra, l’inverno a riposo e la promessa di estate nell’attesa, loro gustano le deliziose offerte della vita.

Le stagioni vengono in vita
Più robusto, fresco e ricco
Sorgente di risveglio

***

PRIMAVERA

The clouds depart and the sun offers a fanfare to grace the world. Tucked into a brilliantly lit alcove, two anticipate the arrival of fresh aromas and treats for the palette, the savory fare served in their hidden meadow sanctuary. Sweet bouquets and fragrant enticements, organic and earthy. They deem themselves not worthy to be seated at the table, but appreciate the invitation to partake in its splendor. Sautéed in earth’s bounty, winter long at rest and summer’s promise in waiting, they taste the delicious offerings of life.

seasons come to life
more robust, fresh and hearty
awakening spring

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday: From The Kitchen of Poets

 

**In the Romance Language, La Primavera mean “Spring”