DEMENTED

“His mind’s not right” my mother would say,
and my father was apt to agree.
“He keeps to himself too much in a way“,
a strange little man there, you see.

And my father was apt to agree,
that something inside his boy festered,
a strange little man there, you see,
who loves to keep darkly sequestered.

That something inside their boy festered,
certainly was not the issue,
“Who loves to keep darkly sequestered?”
mother asked as she reached for a tissue.

Certainly, was not the issue
that my mind worked in mysterious ways?
Mother asked as she reached for a tissue,
“Where does that boy go to these days?”

Yes, my mind worked in mysterious ways
but, deep in my thoughts there was action.
Where does that boy go to these days,
was a quest for some self-satisfaction.

Deep in my thoughts there was action,
my pen at a feverish pitch,
this quest for some self satisfaction
would placate my poetic itch.

My pen at a feverish pitch
to pen pantoum and other such poems,
would placate my poetic itch,
“If they read what I write, they would know them”

To pen pantoum and other poetry?
“His mind’s not right” they would say.
If they read what I write, they would know me.
I kept to myself too much in a way.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

Offered at dVerse Poets Pub – A Piece of Written Art

I WILL POEM FOR FOOD

Buddy, can you spare a rhyme?
I’m down on my luck and someone stuck
a slug in my hat. That and a hearty sestina
won’t buy me a cup of coffee.
But if you’re interested, might I show you
this string of haiku written just for you…
or maybe you could say thank you to a nice tanka
or pantoum. Would you swoon over this sonnet
if I put your name on it? A villanelle would go swell
with your shoes, or you can choose to have me
get satirically lyrical on you. I can let you have
a triolet for a song. You can’t go wrong!
Thanks anyway. You know, starving poets need love too!
I’m tols I’m sort of good! I will poem for food!
Hey! Hey Buddy, can you spare a rhyme?

(C) Walter J Wojtanik

Poetic Asides 2017 April P.A.D. – Day 11: Sonnet/Anti-form

 

A GOOD DAY

"...A Bad Day Fishing!"
“…A Bad Day Fishing!”

Upon the lake we drop our lines,
and in our boat we are afloat.
A bad day fishing is just fine,
I find I have no need to gloat.

In our boat we are afloat.
The summer sun creeps up the shore.
I find I have no need to gloat.
This lake is full of fish galore.

The summer sun creeps up the shore,
the silence is a welcome sign.
This lake is full of fish galore.
I hope a few of them are mine!

The silence is a welcome sign.
I find my peace while I am fishing.
I hope a few of them are mine,
at least that is what I am wishing!

I find my peace while I am fishing,
a creel of fish and we can eat,
at least that is what I am wishing,
but if it’s empty, I’ll cut bait!

A creel of fish and we can eat,
a bad day fishing is just fine
but if it’s empty, I’ll just wait!
Upon the lake we drop our lines.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

QKJ #21 – A SUMMER DAY

SWEET SURRENDER

Lips of tender compassion’s treat,
the confections of my soul at play.
Thoughts that give a rush so sweet,
offering utterances of a gentle sway.

The confections of my soul at play,
fills my heart with powdered dreams,
offering utterances of a gentle sway,
heartfelt words; the sweetest of cream

fills my heart. With powdered dreams
my sleep becomes a sugarplum trip.
Heartfelt words; the sweetest cream
melting to offer a tasty sip.

My sleep becomes a sugarplum dance,
visions so honeyed in the guise of you,
melting to offer a tasty chance,
my white flag raised to a love so true.

A vision so honeyed in the guise of you,
thoughts that give a rush so sweet.
My surrender to a love so true,
lips of tender compassion’s treat.

© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

Khara House’s 30 x 30 Challenge – Day 26 – sweet