I AM LEGEND

I am an enigma; a legend,
insistent that the season becomes
the most important thing.
It is for the children that I work,
and it seemed that they came
to appreciate this generosity,
which was rather rare.
Up in my spacious
hamlet I plan, amidst the hustle
and bustle (and time to rustle a sugar cookie
or two) with my diminutive minions
to charge through more rapid than eagles.
Rather happy, rarely sappy, I continue to hurl
myself  into this chore clenched fist and more
until I think I will burst.
And when I laugh my belly shakes,
a right jolly old spasm! Bridging the chasm
of disbelief, for a dedicated cause.
There is no mystery here. I am Santa Claus.

© Walter J Wojtanik

dVerse – Meeting The Bar: I am, The First Person Narrative

 

KEEP THIS TRADITION

It is every parent’s honored mission
to hold close to this one tradition,
all for this annual condition
we call Christmas. It’s you decision,
but I give my permission
to call it yours too! Listen,

Christmas is one time of year,
where people fill with Christmas cheer,
it is the reason we come back here
to hearth and hearts we hold so dear.
And little ones perplexed with fear,
think, “were they really good this year?”

I’ve honored Christmas each December
as far back as I can remember,
traditions are a glowing ember
that catch on fire in shades of amber.
Filling lives in greater numbers
with such love, a special caliber

of which you’ve never known.
For it is Christmas love that’s shown,
a love that truly is home grown.
It’s this tradition that we hone,
one we cannot surely leave alone.
I’ve seen it everywhere I’ve flown.

So while I’m flying for this cause,
from high up here I’m filled with awes,
despite our very human flaws
I’m happy I can take this pause
to celebrate with you because
traditions says I am Santa Claus.

 

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

POETIC ASIDES NOVEMBER CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE – DAY 5: KEEP THIS (BLANK)

ALSO POSTED AT “I AM SANTA CLAUS”

WORDS AS MUSIC AND “THE SANTA PROJECT”

OK, so after months of riding the fence and thinking “Do I really want to embark on ANOTHER blog?” I concluded – Why Not? 

Link to Words As Music

WORDS AS MUSIC is a blog specifically for aspiring lyricists needing some tips, nudges, prompts, lessons or just encouragement to continue their craft. I will try to post a “prompt” on Monday. Every OTHER Thursday we will highlight a different musical wordsmith and their music. Lessons will be smattered around whenever the urge takes me there, but I will try to do at least one every ten days. Exercises and assignments will be featured, and there will be a Glossary highlighting the musical terms we use throughout. A different sort of place. Maybe it will work, maybe not. But I’m taking a shot!

 

iasc
LINK TO I AM SANTA CLAUS

“I AM SANTA CLAUS” is not a dead issue. On the contrary, I’m getting ambitious and have recruited (without them knowing) Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides April P.A.D. prompts  AND those from MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU blog to write poems for the book based on these ingenious nudges. I refrained from submitting them to either site, I just felt it would be interesting to complete the series from another batch of fine encouragements.

So, I’ll be a busy little wordy for a while, but don’t worry. I’ll keep you posted on my progress! 

VISIONS OF SUGAR PLUMS

 

They’ve started already, A steady stream
of sweet visions. My mission is easier
when these dreams begin. We are in
full swing bringing these dreams to fruition.
Rubber balls and baby dolls; games and toys
galore. And the little folk dig in, no joke
to please the girls and boys. Me and the Missus
are filled with bliss for this is what makes us shine.
I fly all night and she’s all right and fine because
I return to her every time. All year I’ve waited
my breath is bated and the work takes on
new meaning. All the planning and scheming
boils down to that one night. What a flight
that will be. Those that could be better than good
are giving a final push. Making my job
a work in flux as lists of names are finalized.
The reminder to be good for goodness sake
Is one that should not be taken lightly,
For this sprightly elf has gotten himself
into groove. It’s time to move to fulfill
the sweetest dreams. It seems we go through this
every year, but that’s why I’m here. I work
to the sound of reindeer pause. That’s my job,
I am Santa Claus!

 

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge – Day 10 – Something Sweet

INTERVIEW WITH CLAUDETTE YOUNG

I had the extreme pleasure of being interviewed by Claudette Young on her webspace, CLAUDSY’S BLOG. In it we discuss life, poetry and other journeys into worded wonder. Thanks Claudette for this opportunity.

http://claudsy.wordpress.com/2012/05/07/interview-with-poet-walt-wojtanik

LAST PACKAGE

It is just about finished,
the day for which I work all year,
and the end is near.
Tired and sore,
and what’s more, I have one
last package to deliver.
I shiver at the thought,
and I probably ought to have
given it sooner. My eyes burn
and I yearn to give them rest.
But, the best sight for these sore eyes,
is the surprise on her face
when I place this final package
in her hands. It only stands to reason,
every year during this season,
she waits; the patience of a saint
is hers. This gift is always the last one given.
As long as I’m living, I’ll be giving it.
She wraps her arms around me
and I see the smile it brings.
And my heart sings when Mrs. “C”
unwraps her gift. Me. I am Santa Claus.
My journey is complete. “Honey, Rub my feet?”

READY FOR TAKE OFF

It happens every year.
I get ready to fly around the world
while  the dream of sugarplums invades.
I’ve got it made, traveling around the earth
with little trouble. On the double and
more rapid than eagles, the reindeer game
we play has me away until my hands are purple.
Every citizen of the human condition is in luck.
The sleigh lag after Christmas; one of my favorite states!
I am Santa Claus…and I’m running late!

IN THE GLOBE

The magical sphere of glass,
in my grip depicting a scene I live daily.
Familiarity in my hands as I stand amidst
the little ones; wide-eyed and full of wonder.
I hold the ball aloft as they cheer wildly,
and I am mildly amused. Both hands
gently shake the globe; a mild spasm
causing pulsations, sending the elements
swirling, twirling and tumbling. Rumbling
and the snowflakes are released in the liquid void;
spacious and rare. It is there where we achieve
this weightless state, my reindeer and sleigh,
assume this Holiday enigma, more rapid than eagles
we fly across the frozen sky. And you’ll surely know
why…I am Santa Claus.

HER STORY (IN PRAISE OF COLDER WOMEN)


Patiently she waits.
She knows I planned on going out;
I do every year. And it is here
that she waits. Her eyes still
twinkle after all this time
and I’m sure her smile will await me,
when I’m done globe trotting.
It’s not suspicion that keeps her
planted by the hearth; where else on earth
would she rather be? It keeps her as warm
as a big cozy hug, toasting her frigid toes
and melting her heart for my return.
The logs burn, and I yearn for my traveling
to cease and desist this all night party.
This North Pole girl is hearty; she loves the cold
and this Jolly Old Man, doing all she can
to keep me in this Christmas game.
She’s my missus; she call me Mr. “C”.
But to me, she gives my heart pause.
And it’s all because…I am Santa Claus.

A SORTA SANTA SESTINA

November’s early chill does not sway this warm heart
from the task at hand. Kind of a dress rehearsal, sort of a role
reversal from the other ten months of the year.
Around here, hustle and bustle are the norm and true to form, I see red
and green. A controlled chaos, laced with love
and a true sense of the spirit that fills me. Christmas spirit.

That is not to say we are not thankful, because Thanksgiving Day is where that spirit
really shines. A gathering of family in celebration of that relation fills my heart
because it is the essence of the long holiday season born of love.
And let’s not kid ourselves. We are nothing without it. When I roll
out my list for the second time, I am reminded that within each heart, red
and full of life, lives a passion that lasts throughout the year.

And it shouldn’t be only one day a year.
It should be a daily diversion to pass on that spirit
in every word ever written or read
on the subject of our fellow men and women. It does my heart
good to know that the initiation of these feelings comes from the role
I play everyday. It’s not to say I take the credit, it just comes back to the love.

Many people ask, “What is love?”
It may be a forgotten art, but it is never lost if you yearn
to give of yourself. Of this gift, you have full control.
For keeping the smallest spark of this spirit
will go a long way in igniting your heart.
The first step is the start of a life’s journey; immortality in red.

It is not so much the color of the heart, but red
is the hue of the blood that courses within us all, a sign of life; a life of love.
So as I near the start of my work, I can feel my heart
expand in proportion to the sense of wonder this time of year
places in a young child’s heart, and the sense of spirit
that comes with the territory. I fill this role

the best I can. I am “The Man”. That’s how I roll!
So before I don the jingle bells and that suit, bright red,
I will bow my head and ask that I never lose this spirit.
As I hear, it gets harder to come by these days. But I love
the challenge. I’m sort of in my element this time of year.
As the big day draws near, it will fill my heart.

It warms me completely. It is the role I take on gladly.
For no matter how badly things go each year, I will be here dressed in red
full of love and holiday spirit. After all, I am Santa Claus…sort of.