WERE IT NOT FOR YOU

Were it not for you, I’d probably squeak by in this life,
Without your guiding light, I’d lose my way,
Not every day, but enough for us to notice.

Were it not for you, I’d probably be okay,
But only just okay and not the man who is made better
When your loving light shines upon him.

Were it not for you, I might find myself
alone, in a quiet home with nothing
but these four walls to talk to.

Were it not for you, I would never have known
How to truly love, and never know what it is
To be truly loved by one so true, were it not for you!

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2021

I USE MY WORDS

I use my words to express my heart.
Words that live deep within me,
and I hope that you can clearly see
by the way my love songs always start.
So, with all the feelings I impart,
with all the thoughts there’ll ever be,
I use my words.

For love invades like Cupid’s dart,
quite sent straight to you, straight from me.
And as I proposed on bended knee
with feelings that came from deep in my heart,
I use my words.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2020

POETIC BLOOMINGS – Inform Poet: Rondine

DONE TOO SOON

“And each one there has one thing shared;
They have sweated beneath the same sun,
Look up in wonder at the same moon,
And wept when it was all done,
For being done too soon.”

~ Neil Diamond

We’re here for the briefest of eternities.
And as we see, every one of us
has the same life to share.
The sun shines on us all, warming our souls
and brightening our existence.
With persistence, we seek the lunar light at night
knowing soon that a new morning awaits
those of us who choose to embrace it.
Choosing to ignore our sisters and brothers
to seek another agenda, we’ll suffer the pangs
of our own misguided ignorance.
In deference to a shared unity, we shall
yearn for that sense of community that glows
within each of us for the short time we abide
upon this earth. But no bright sun,
nor any gilded moon remains eternal.
It is our infernal reality that we will all
expire before they do. We’ll not see it through.
We will all be done too soon!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2020

POETIC BLOOMINGS – COVID-19 PAD – Day 22: Song Lyric Epigraph

OF LEAVES OF GRASS AND SUCH

Of me!
Of Life!
Of these questions recurring;

Of the endless trains of the faithless
wondering about existence with persistence
and resolve, trying to solve the mysteries, failing;

Of myself,
mired in thoughts profound, that surround
in a confused fog, a lone dog chewing on life’s flavored bone. Alone;

Of eyes that crave the light
of each new day, of each new idea,
of every struggle, the brilliance of wisdom glowing;

Of every poor result left to fester,
of the sullied crowds plotting
allotting me to surrender without recourse;

Of the empty useless years, no rest
on this life quest when I acquiesce to this folly,
no jolly expression left unpunished, unfinished;

Of the terrible doubt
that lingers with words left to languish in these fingers
poetic verses worsen as time passes, thoughts amassed and sequestered;

Of the uncertainty of what life remains
to offer to fill the coffers of one left bankrupt of ideas,
of ideals, of the feeling of relevance and some semblance of honor;

Of day and night awash in memories lost
of doubtless apparitions holding answers to questions unasked
or pondered, wonders of the world we possess and caress with our words;

Of course, nothing comes from nothing
and should nothing become something, we will dream and fly,
an eye on future tomorrows, of joys and sorrows;

Of the visages of things that bring into focus
what hearts envision; of piercing through every heaven,
every hell and the ability to tell the difference;

Of the ugliness of men to cast aspersions one upon the other,
making sister and brother enemies of that hated state.
Return to the sacred plate of communion, a blessed union of souls;

Of me?
Of life recurring?
Of Leaves of Grass and such!

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2020

Inspiration drawn from Walt Whitman’s works – Leaves of Grass, O Me! Oh Life!, Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances, Of the Visage of Things

THEY GO ABOUT THEIR DAY

Don’t they remember?
They go about their day
as if nothing was wrong,
doing the same old song
and dance, as if perchance
it was all a dream.

But you cannot sleep
through such a fright.
It keeps me up at night
sometimes. Don’t they recall
at all how it happened?
They go about their day.

It’s not to say it’s an obsession,
but this confession is true.
What did you do when the twins fell?
Where were you when five sides
became four? When verdant pastures
claimed more? Don’t you remember?

It’s an indelible stain that remains,
a blotch upon all of humanity’s souls.
Yet, some go about their days, ignoring
and imploring we all do the same.
History forgotten is soon repeated,
and we will not be defeated.

It was no dream, this evil scheme,
it seems some would just as soon forget it.
And yet, it happened eighteen years ago today.
Without a thought, they go about their day.
What is there left to say? It happened.
Don’t you remember?

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

POETIC BLOOMINGS tribute to 911

THE PLEA FOR POETRY

 People think I write quite prolifically,
generating poems terrifically,
but that kind of effort specifically
is taxing and takes a bit more.
And you can be sure
it takes a toll at times
and some of my rhymes 
get tired and repetitive.
And yet, poetry is my sedative,
pleasing and not competitive,
and I’ll keep writing poems as long as I live.
When poetry begs me to write,
I can keep on going all night!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

from POETIC BLOOMINGS: Prompt #254 – Second Wind

THE MUSIC OF YOUR HEART

Hearts beat in rhythm,
a song of true love’s making,
never forsaking
the message it gives.
It lives to keep us dancing
for hearts are that way.

We chose how we step,
a waltz of passion’s fire.
What we desire
keeps moving our feet.
It’s the music of your heart
in this life’s slow dance.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

Written for POETIC BLOOMINGS Inform Poet: CHOKA

IN THE END

Poets write of love, singers give it song,
and bright creative souls cannot be wrong.
Feel love! Feel Love! Its tender touch
reaches so deep to mean so much.
And in the end, ones so loved are so blessed
but they are envied by all the rest.

Yet, love is not meant to be locked away.
You can bet words of love will have their say.
Give love; get love, equal measure,
and know that it is life’s true treasure.
For in the end, others will share this prize,
It is perfection in the poet’s eyes.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2019