Miz Quickly’s Impromptu Poetry Month

These poems were written to Miz Quickly’s Impromptu Poetry prompts.

Advertisements

32 thoughts on “Miz Quickly’s Impromptu Poetry Month

  1. 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

  2. THROW ME A LINE

    “True ease in writing comes from art, not chance”
    ~An Essay on Criticism (Sound and Sense) Alexander Pope

    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

  3. 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)

  4. 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

  5. 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)

  6. 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

    ********

    Off my iPhone (loaded completely with Sinatra albums) I used these song titles:

    Come Dance With Me – Taking a Chance on Love – Day in/Day out –
    Like Someone In Love – Dancing on the Ceiling

    Written for the MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY Day 6 – Song Title Scramble

  7. 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

    ********

    My “Beatles” iTouch provided this list of songs for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – DAY 6 – Song Titles Scramble

    I Got a Woman – Ray Charles, Alternative Girlfriend – Barenaked Ladies,
    Devil in Her Heart – Beatles, Ticket to Ride – Beatles, All You Need is Love – Beatles, San Franciscan Nights – Animals, Falling For the First Time – Barenaked Ladies, Thank the Lord For the Night Time – Neil Diamond, Nod Your Head – Paul McCartney, All My Loving – Beatles

  8. 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)

  9. 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

  10. 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!

  11. THE OUTSKIRTS

    PHOTO PROMPT: Edward Hopper’s “Gas”

    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)

  12. 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)

  13. 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

  14. 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)

  15. 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)

  16. 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

    Inspiration: “Classical Gas” by Mason William

    Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 15 – Music

  17. 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

  18. 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)

  19. 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

    ** On this day in 2012, American Bandstand and New Year’s Rockin’ Eve host
    Dick Clark had died of heart failure.

  20. 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

    ** 1930 – BBC Radio announces there is no news today.

  21. THE LATE WHITE WAY

    “The theater, the theater,
    whatever happened to the theater?”
    ~Danny Kaye from “Choreography” in White Christmas

    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

    **My postcard depicted the heyday of the downtown Buffalo Theater District. The “BUFFALO” sign marks the Shea’s Performing Art Center, an exceptional throwback to those days, still the anchor of a hopeful resurgence. They’re bringing traffic back to Main Street.

  22. 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

  23. 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

  24. 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

  25. 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)

  26. 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)

  27. 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

    Words required to use: aftermath, transfer, shocked, knot, value,
    guest, boring, modest, detour furiously, slab, palm

    Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 24 Wordle

  28. POEM STARTING WITH A LINE FROM ROGER McGOUGH

    The trouble with snowmen…

    A snowman with “appendages”
    is rather quite HOT,
    until he gets hot
    and then, he is not!

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    First line taken from “The Trouble With Snowmen” by Roger McGough

    Written for MIZ QUICKLY’S IMPROMPTU POETRY – Day 25 “Poem starting with a line…”

  29. 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

  30. 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

  31. 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

  32. 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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s