These poems were written to Miz Quickly’s Impromptu Poetry prompts.
THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART
My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
These poems were written to Miz Quickly’s Impromptu Poetry prompts.
My heart envisions what my eyes refuse to see. ~Poet Walter J Wojtanik
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THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART 
MIZ QUICKLY OFF AND RUNNING
Sleazy Steve set off on foot,
he stole some lady’s purse.
A soul once meekly in control,
she set off after Steve and cursed.
This girl refined had lost her mind,
as a matter of course, she was not far behind.
Swaying through the maddening crowd
quite mobile; gazelle-like her foot steps flowed.
In younger days she would avoid him,
but when she catches his ass, she’ll destroy him!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Day one – Seven Words – Miz Quickly’s Impromptu Poetry
THROW ME A LINE
The heart expresses all its eyes can see;
a voice that’s clear and speaks to all who hear.
So, do not close your mind to what can be,
a heart so blind will make love disappear.
But pens that stroke in broad and heartfelt hues,
will yield a master work in words you choose.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
MIZ QUICKLY DAY 2 – Iambic lines
YOUNG MASTER “B” GETS A PAPER ROUTE
“Paper, Sir?” the young man asked
the stodgy old curmudgeon,
the kind of guy with a whiskey flask,
the creepy aged fart wasn’t budgin’
“What kind of scam are you running, boy?”
the elderly gentleman wondered.
“Why, what do you mean, Sir?” the boy was coy,
for the man made a serious blunder.
“These papers you see, are the news of the day!”
the lad took the time to detail,
but the nattily dressed thought him a pest
and wanted the young boy to fail.
The headline emblazoned read, “Man on the Moon!”
and the photo depicted the same.
“I must find me a constable, boy you’re a loon!”
he called out but no officer came.
“Lies, lies, lies!” the man was heard to mumble.
“What fantastic falsehoods you’re selling!”
He reached for the papers and started to fumble
to see all the tales they were telling.
“Stock Market Crash? World War II?
Such fantasies? News of the Day?
Stalin’s Mustache? The Avian Flu?
I won’t buy this balderdash!” and the man walked away.
Young Master Buffet re-assembled his papers
and inwardly chuckled because
his “news of the day” told of future such capers,
but he never said WHICH day it was!
All of his headlines were set to occur
it was only a matter of when,
but the pages on the bottom pleased him for sure
“Warren Buffet: One of the World’s Richest Men!”
He started out small, he could envision this scene,
making more green than the world’s ever seen!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMTU POETRY – DAY 3 (Photos)
ALL WORK, AND NO JACK MAKES DULL WALT A PLAYBOY
Workaholics Anonymous has turned me away.
“You’re beyond hope” is all they would say.
It’s the way I was raised; there is no other way,
so I’ve resigned myself to keep working.
Time and again, and time and a half too,
fingers to the bones is the way that I do,
and I never punch out ‘til the work is all through
though my trigger finger keeps jerking.
Money in the bank and still I’ve got bills,
the alarm clocks’ trill is the least of my thrills,
and the company’s turning me into their shill
as the “Big Boss Man” keeps smirking.
But my social life has been D.O.A.
“You’re beyond hope” is all that they say,
There’s just not enough “jack” to make me go astray,
so I’ve resigned myself to keep working.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 4 -Work
PROMPT
The nudge is in and I grin,
a poem writ to fit it, and to wit
giving food for thought.
I ought to be set to write it
as long as I sink in my teeth and bite it.
I’d better hurry,
I’m running out of time;
I scurry to manipulate a mired muse
used to slow deliberate thinking.
But I have this sinking feeling
that I’m dealing with an evasive sonnet.
I better get on it to post it on time.
I need to rhyme if I wish to be
PROMPT
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 5 (Rhymes)
DANCE OF LOVE
Come dance with me
we’re taking a chance on love.
Day in – Day Out, we make music,
and I feel like someone in love.
I just think of you and I’m dancing on the ceiling.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
********
Written for the MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 6 – Song Title Scramble
SHE’S GOT A WAY
I got a woman,
an alternative girlfriend
with the devil in her heart
That’s the ticket, to ride that train,
All you need is love.
On those San Franciscan nights
I found myself falling for the first time.
Thank the lord for the night time!
Nod your head if you agree
All my loving is free!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik -2013
********
SEVENLING (A SENSE OF BELONGING)
A sense of belonging stirs my longing.
In Buffalo, I can tell by the smell.
Cheerios plant in gear and the aroma is clear.
Niagara Falls is where thunder and sight combine.
A fine mist spraying in the rumble that stays
in my ears for years. Finger Lakes make me linger.
Second star to the right, I hear Neverland call me home!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik -2013
Wrtten for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 7 (Places)
ART BEAUTIFULLY COMPOSED
A cross the field, ‘neath azure skies,
B eyond the mountains, beyond the seas.
C learly, one can see the signs
D iscovered in the beauty of a Summer’s day.
E verwhere the view proclaims
F orever lives in always dreams,
G iving rise to raise your eyes to the
H eavens, (disguised as azure skies).
I f man were meant to fly, he’d hover o’er fields green
J ust to glimpse the beauty exposed.
K eep your hearts open for
L ove to live within,
M indful of the world around you,
N ot only of yourself. For
O nce this beauty captures your spirit
P ursuit of such scenes are repeated, a
Q uest for the masterpieces of life.
R eclaim your place in the world, your
S tation in this fine and expressive work.
T each your children to appreciate its beauty,
U nderstanding that what you give them
V alidates your reason to exist.
W hether you embrace the world, it is your target.
X marks the spot where your heart will begin.
Y ou are always welcome to share your voice,
Z eniths of art beautifully composed await you.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
An ABECEDARIAN written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 8
BLACK AND BLUE
“If you bruise, you lose!” my brother said.
“Don’t feel bad, you could’ve been dead!”
For some silly reason, it didn’t make me feel better
as my bloodied nose made my shirt get redder
and my two front teeth strewn on the street,
(how can I function without my front teef?)
Touch football games from pole to pole
and an errant pass thrown out of control
Not another kid alive would be so dumb
To take a dive to catch one thrown into the gravel.
Sliding face first up the curb, abrasions and all,
It’s amazing I even hung onto the ball.
But with my face battered and my tongue sticking through,
I looked so raccoon with my face black and blue!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 9: Color, Now!
THE OUTSKIRTS
No one’s been by for years
and one of his biggest fears
was that he would die out here
alone, and no one would know.
The point of no return
sits a mile down the road
and the occasional lost traveler
would goad his excitement,
but leave him in a cloud of dust.
He must close down the station
and rejoin civilization.
His routine never changes.
He dusts off the pumps
encrusted with years of isolation
and failure. The readings are recorded
in a never ending string of naught.
A rumble in the distance arouses,
leaving him shaking in his trousers
only to be disappointed again.
The pumps stand sentinel,
grave markers for a dying breed.
He needs human contact
but all he attracts is dirt.
Lost in the outskirts.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Response to MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 10 (Alone, or at a Party)
NO ONE KNOWS
He’s returned to the scene; they always return.
Incognito means ball cap drawn and cheap sunglasses
hiding calculating eyes. He’s cold, duffel bag in tow –
unsure how many heads it would hold, but eager to learn.
That one’s Billy. I know because his name is repeated ;
his mother’s screech is invasive. Jeans torn at the knees,
pulling chewing gum from hidden places, saying curse words
to the old man “shushing” in the library. Glue for Lepages.
Just an observer, that’s all I’ve become. In the doorway,
out of the downpour. Tabulating cars/buses; trusses on the “El”;
going to hell for lascivious thoughts. I ought to get work. A jerk
feeling a draft below not knowing my fly’s undone. I’m cold too!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 11 (I’ve Got a Secret)
THROW ME A LINE (Remix)*
Your eyes close; disappear.
But see, a heart can express;
express with eyes closed
and a clear heart. It will disappear.
But in words and in mind
words stroke the heart
and in doing so your voice appears.
The heart’s eyes will pen
and that makes what masters be.
Choose what will appear,
but master your voice in love,
knowing love can disappear.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 12
*Day 2 (Iambic Lines) Processed through Cut-up Machine
LUCK, BE A LADY
If you’ve ever been a lady to begin with,
Luck, be a lady tonight.
But be good luck. I’ve had it
up to here with your sister.
I’m a stand-up mister, but keep falling
flat on my face in this place.
Quit stalling, I’m calling you out.
Do you need me to shout it?
Can I do without luck? I doubt it.
Be nice and blow on the dice!
So, would it be fine to you,
if I wine and dine you,
candle and moon light,
dimly bright? Dancing, romancing;
taking a chance with all I have?
You could be the salve for what ails me.
So Lady, don’t fail me. I’m the fella
you came in with. Luck, be that lady!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 13 (Luck)
SONNET FOR THE COMMON MAN
Hail to you, oh common man
simple souls who takes a stand
Your ethic is both strong and true
‘tis a better world because of you.
You toil from first morning light
And labor until the fall of night
Protect your family, render love,
Bowing head to Him above.
Taking pride in all your skills,
Showing nothing but goodwill.
Giving to the ones in need,
Teach your children this indeed.
Simple souls who take their stand
Every child, woman and man.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 14 (Sonnet)
GAS
Time passes, quickly;
rapidly flashes in stashes,
dots and dashes of image
and sound going around,
history before your eyes
like a life lived
in interesting times.
We are inundated,
sated and saturated,
feeling informed and
warmed by our accomplishments
and advances. Chances are
history will have gotten repeated
when we’ve forgotten where we’ve been.
One sustained final note,
ever-reaching, always teaching
us that history continues,
never running out of gas.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 15 – Music
MEMORY MAKES HER RETURN – LINES
Melancholy memory brought her
to the playground of her youth.
She had never really left. Seeing herself
on the third swing gently undulating,
her rosy cheeks contrary to her pale complexion;
merely a reflection of the past long gone.
Feet kicking up the dirt like powder,
made to stray from the grass more green
in a scene her mind replays. She yearns for the days.
A gentle fling of her head would send a spray of gold;
her blonde tresses in the wind. I myself return.
Both grown now, wiser with emotion.
These fond memories come to cover her,
like an erotic seduction, it protects her fragile heart.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Originally written to THE SUNDAY WHIRL – Wordle #66
Restructured for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 16 Lines
BURIED TREASURE
I heard the “clank” with my spade in the ground
on the day the “squirrel” was found,
I was most intrigued by the sound
my pointed shovel made.
Interest piqued, quick as you please,
trowel in hand, down on my knees
underneath the poplar trees,
I toiled in the shade.
The soil around the steel was hard
as I kept digging in my yard,
and I wished I had a small petard
to blast this treasure free.
I almost gave up on my quest,
but I had vowed to do my best
and if you could do better, be my guest…
so alone I kept on digging.
I pushed and strained and dug and dug
unearthing caches of dead bugs,
and a couple hundred slimy slugs;
my back was sore and achy.
And finally the piece broke free,
underneath the poplar tree,
it was intact as far as I can see
mud-clotted and quite rusted.
It was a “squirrel” I busted back for,
it was a cast iron squirrel shaped nut cracker,
much muscle spent to set it free,
this squirrel was truly a nut cracker.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 17 – Found Objects
(Cast Iron squirrel nut cracker)
LEAVING PHILADELPHIA
Young man, your idea was amusing
but we were choosing to go in another direction.
But upon closer inspection, minds of a kind –
teens and queens came to find that your sounds
kept them around and off of the streets.
Great beats and dances, moving romances
and the face time was quite sublime.
Too big for the local scene, things were
hustled and rustled away from the freedom of home.
But, in climbing the Pyramid of success,
you had impressed a whole nation; influenced
the whole world. Marking time to the stroke of twelve,
delving into new years and new generations.
Pennsylvania dust never settles when you keep moving
and we were grooving to the sounds so profound.
Your name remains long after leaving Philadelphia.
You had a great beat; you made it easy to dance, too!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 18 – On This Day
THERE’S GOOD NEWS TONIGHT
No news is good news
and there’s good news tonight!
But bad news comes without warning,
it hits the fan tomorrow morning!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 18 On This Day
THE LATE WHITE WAY
Dear Olaf,
They tore up Main Street to put in the rail;
The subway is progress, but only if it goes somewhere.
There was activity before, and people drove downtown
to shop, do lunch, work and get around to the theater.
It’s all but abandoned now, but it was happening then!
Wish I were there!
Regards, Walt
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 19 – Postcard From Home
SEIZE THE DAY
Life is rife with important days, no one more important than the one we’re living in. And instead of giving in, we strive to survive. The days lately revolve around a big day a month away. My daughter’s wedding day. And while I’ll accompany her down the aisle, I’ll take a back seat and not compete; it is her day all the way. Proud and sad, this sappy old Dad is caught up in the preparations. Mom and I are full of elation and a touch of trepidation. But, we’ve done a decent job raising two fine daughters. And I ought to savor these times and tears. I’ll be doing this again in a few more years.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 20 – Prose Poem
SHIELD OF EXPRESSIVENESS
Words are my weapon of choice.
They are a means to give my thoughts a voice.
The same words that hurt can be
the same words that heal. For me
they act as a shield to protect
me from their gravity
by deflecting their weight.
All great super heroes are verbal zeroes
without an invincible way with words.
If you can’t talk yourself out of a fight,
you’ll be throwing punches all night.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 21 – One Magical Item
GIVING REBIRTH TO THE EARTH
A day to celebrate the splendor and majesty
of this awesome orb upon which we live.
It gives us what we need, but sometimes our greed
becomes a destructive tool. The more foolish
we behave, the more grave its condition.
We’re in no position to carry on in this manner.
Raise the banner in its honor. Respect and celebrate
the wonder of the world upon which we live.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 22 – Earth Day
LIVING DREAMS
Without his dreams, a man will die,
falling short of his desires.
Some will not notice; some might cry
as he’s laid beneath the briars.
We make our mark by how we live,
without his dreams, a man will die,
and we get more from what we give
but there are some that just don’t try
to make an effort; be that guy.
Compassion lives within each heart,
without his dreams, a man will die.
Love is the proper place to start,
a seed once planted, blooms and grows.
So give your dreams a chance to fly,
the wisest man will learn and know
without his dreams a man will die!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 23 – Repeating After Me (Quatern)
LIVING DREAMS DECOMPOSED (IN CASCADE)
Without his dreams, a man will die,
falling short of his desires.
Some will not notice; some might cry
as he’s laid beneath the briars.
Having goals and aims gives one direction;
the focus for your life to provide
all that your life needs to succeed.
Without his dreams, a man will die,
and surely, it’s a struggle,
for life is not a piece of cake.
A man who would forsake his dreams will be
falling short of his desires.
The process becomes a slow dance to success.
Try and fail only to rise and try again.
People will see you for who you are:
some will not notice; some might cry
to know they had given up on the same dream.
It seems he wishes to rise above like rich cream,
and surely, once committed, will reach higher
as he’s laid beneath the briars.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 23 – Repeating After Me (Cascade)
LAST MAN DEARLY DEPARTED
Loggia’s hands lay palm down on the slab.
Warned furiously to follow the detour
(which he didn’t),
his modest and boring life
got the best of his common sense.
None of his invited guests had placed
a value on his friendship
and the knot in their collective gut grew
quite large. Never the less, they were still
shocked and surprised when they had to
transfer Loggia’s lifeless body to the morgue,
in keeping with the aftermath of his demise.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 24 Wordle
POEM STARTING WITH A LINE FROM ROGER McGOUGH
A snowman with “appendages”
is rather quite HOT,
until he gets hot
and then, he is not!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 25 “Poem starting with a line…”
IN THE WILLOWS, WIND
Wafting winds stretching and winding
through outstretched branches; reaching
their fingers for suns warming rays.
On days such as these, the trees are king,
majestic and benevolent, sent to rule
over green fields and glens, knowing
seeing the forest is seeing the trees.
All of nature lowers to their knees,
a gentle genuflect to the aged wisdom growing,
never falling far from their root.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 26 – Out of the House
THE BREATH OF A SALESMAN
The sales staff tradition was a noon time thing.
based on weekly sales totals decided who was paying.
George was surely just the best, his passion and his hope,
quite an able salesman, he could sell condoms to the pope.
Phil had served his customers for nearly twenty years
soon to be retired, Phil would be changing gears.
But Willie was the low man, his acumen not good,
he couldn’t sell to go to hell (most times he wished he could)
Willie knew a restaurant, the cheapest he could find,
the quaintest little pizza joint, he was sure they wouldn’t mind.
The sauce was rather rancid; it almost made them sick,
and on that day they walked away smelling like garlic.
The customers would hold their noses; they didn’t buy a bit
and Willie didn’t blame them, their breaths all smelled like… garlic!
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 27 Salesman
OFF THE HOOK
Earl was a weird guy, he never did fit in. He was a fish out of water as far as life was concerned. He learned what he needed to succeed, but indeed he was on his own. It was the way he lived. It was the way that he died. Flopping around on the grass like a trout, he went out hook, line and sinker. Death lured him home.
On the grass, Earl left
leaving his family bereft,
fodder for the worms.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 27 – Alt
Shorpy Images
UNEARTHING NERDS
Protected pockets and momma’s
kiss goodbye on a freshly washed cheek.
Meek to mild, this internal child dreams
of rockets and exploration and all
the sex his nocturnal suspicion
can muster. Buster browns and eyeglasses,
round and magnified to hide his
insecurities and foibles. A boy in hiding
and chiding his lack of confidence
inhibitions exhibited and held close
well past high school. A fool who
could have had all he could handle
if he would expand his horizon. Despising
everything he had become. Solace in the words
he used and abused; a poet lost,
suspenders holding his muse.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
For MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 30 – Stereotypes