18 thoughts on “NaPoWriMo 2013

  1. IN THE SHADOW OF THE MOON AN ANGEL TREADS

    She walks in beauty, like the night,
    dark and sultry, mysterious.
    She is a curious blend of strength
    and gentility with the ability
    to melt my heart and soothe
    a tired and battered soul.
    She walks in beauty, like the night.

    She walks in symphony, like a song,
    long and lilting, lifting spirits.
    She is melodic as I hear it;
    tempo and meter will not
    defeat her confidence;
    A sensuous affluence,
    She walks in symphony, like a song.

    She walks in love. Like an angel,
    she is ethereal and blessed.
    She is an amorous heart
    who will start to spark a lonely heart
    with a beauty that exudes
    a lyrical whisper laced with affection.
    She walks in beauty; in symphony; in love.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Penned for NaPoWriMo 2013 – First Lines

  2. TELL A LIE (AT LEAST NOT TO YOUR FACE)

    They’re only lies if you don’t believe me,
    and if you leave me, they are
    whatever I want them to be. I find you
    interesting and beautiful (in a nondescript
    kind of way) but that’s not to say
    I don’t love you! (I don’t, but that’s not to say!)
    We could see eye-to-eye, if you didn’t always
    fall short (sort of an eye-to throat arrangement).
    That would explain our estrangement
    (and my derangement for telling you
    what you want to hear.) Hard as I try
    for the most part, I cannot tell a lie!
    (At least not to your face!).
    And this time I mean it!

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Two For the Show (Lies – Day 2)

  3. COME HELL AND HIGH WATER

    Shiver me Mateys, the tide’s setting sail,
    batten yer hatches and tremble.
    Her timbers be creaking
    as if they was speaking
    a warning to those who would keep her assembled.

    “Yo-Ho! Yo-Ho!” the storm’s kicking in,
    me sea legs, they rattle and shake!
    If this rig starts to failin’
    there’ll be no more sailin’
    heading into this hellfire would be a mistake!

    Davy Jones’ locker is missing a hitch,
    Moby Dick’s mother’s a cold-blooded bitch,
    Come hell and high water
    Each sea-farer’s daughter
    had better prepare for the worse.
    The ocean is callin’,
    The waves keep a-fallin’
    and the Wicked Seas Witch is casting her curse.
    Dead men who sail never live to tell tales.

    Aye, keep me feet firm as I’m standing a-stern,
    Tethered to mast and to spar,
    If we capsize indeed!
    We’ll be octopus feed,
    Leagues below water will be where we are!

    Poseidon is hiding with lightning in tow,
    Neptune in tune with his trident aglow,
    Come hell and high water
    Each sea-farer’s daughter
    had better steer clear of the shore.
    The ocean is callin’,
    the waves keep a-fallin’,
    don’t let the seas make you their whore.
    Dead men who sail never live to tell tales.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 3 – Write a Sea Chantey

  4. A MOMENTARY LAPSE OF REASON

    (A found poem)

    I’ve been mad for fucking years;
    been over the edge working me buns off…
    I know, I’ve been mad like most of us
    (even if you’re not mad…)

    All you touch and all you see,
    a race toward an early grave
    is all your life will ever be.
    Waiting for someone

    or something to show you the way.
    You are young; life is long.
    There is time to kill today,
    plans that either come to naught,

    or are half a page of scribbled lines.
    Hanging on in quiet desperation,
    it came as a heavy blow,
    yelling and screaming and telling him

    “Grab that cash with both hands”.
    It is the root of all evil,
    but we sorted the matter out.
    I was really drunk at the time!

    “Listen son, don’t give me that do goody good
    bullshit”, said the man with the gun,
    God only knows it’s not what we choose,
    but which is which and who is who?

    There’s room for you inside;
    only a difference of opinion.
    Good manners don’t cost nothin, eh?
    Got to keep the loonies on the path

    And if with dark forebodings
    your head explodes, raise the blade.
    Make the change. Lock the door and
    throw away the key. The old man died.

    All you hate,
    all you distrust,
    all that you deal
    beg, borrow or steal…

    There is no dark side of the moon!
    It’s really a matter of fact it’s all dark.

    ***

    I chose the “spaceship name – A Momentary Lapse of Reason”. The “Momentary Lapse” came from actually listening to the “Dark Side of the Moon” by the English progressive rock group Pink Floyd. All lines are culled from that album (for those who have no clue – an album is a CD on steroids!)

    Walter J. Wojtanik 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 4 – Write a Poem Based on a Banks-like spaceship name title

  5. PRESENT

    This day
    stretches across
    time, the measure of life.
    The past and future are conjoined
    by now.

    © Copyright Walter J Wojtanik -2013

    A traditional Cinquain written to NaPoWriMo Day 5 – Cinquain

  6. HALCYON DAZE

    Baseball.
    America’s pastime.
    Hit. Catch. Throw.
    Days of my youth.
    Memories.

    © Copyright Walter J Wojtanik -2013

    A modern Cinquain written to NaPoWriMo Day 5 – Cinquain

  7. THE VALEDICTORY OF AN AUBURN MUSE

    (The Last Time I Held Her)

    She was skin and bones, frail
    as all skeletal remains become,
    with every last breath of life
    still sticking to her ribs. Every
    exhale came with the burdened
    anticipation of the next deep gasp.
    Her eyes, a vacuous stare, looking
    through me and seeing nothing but
    a chance to finally go home to her rest.
    Well past the need for words; or the
    ability to express the same. Her face
    contorted with each painful smile,
    pleads in silence for one last embrace.
    Wrapping my arms under her absence,
    closing around her distance; squeezing
    through my need to feel something,
    only to fail miserably. A flame, extinguished
    well before the light in her eyes had dimmed.
    And I stood in her darkness, clinging
    to the shadow of her and any lasting
    memory that she had left me.
    The last time that I held her
    was my last goodbye.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo – Day 6 – Write a Valedictory

  8. TAKING A STAND

    I can stand on my own.
    I can stand apart from the crowd.
    I stand up and cheer!
    I shout it quite loud!
    I stand up for my rights.
    I can take a few lefts too!
    I can stand in contemplation.
    I will sit down to stew.
    I’m a member in good standing.
    I can’t stand ignorance.
    I can stand to get sloppy.
    I will stand in reverence.
    Will you stand up and be counted?

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    For NaPoWriMo – Day 7 – Rhetorical Finish

  9. AWAKENING

    In the morning mists I hear a whisper,
    a gentle call that lures me from my sleep.
    Soft and soothing sounds; a prayer, a vesper,
    the dawn of day – a piece of life to keep.
    Freshness of the air is getting crisper
    as I awaken, breathing life in deep.
    Morning mists do bring me to discover,
    there’s a brave new world outside these covers.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Ottava Rima for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 8

  10. FADE TO BLACK

    He watched the sunset on the horizon
    hoping that she might be caught
    in that same moment where night
    and the remnants of day melt
    into hues of muted grays and orange.
    The crash of waves mimics the exhalation
    of her rapidly beating heart, gasps
    of passion rushing and falling;
    calling him to resuscitate her.
    Nightfall continued and darkness
    was the shroud that hid them
    upon this shore many times lost,
    in the heated rhythm of their lovemaking
    taking every last breath from the depths
    of the conjoined souls. Every last star
    beckoned him and the moon
    cast shadows on the memory of her
    flesh beneath his own. And he felt her;
    she permeated his very being, seeing nothing
    but her eyes as beacons in the night.
    He reaches to touch her in ways
    she had always longed. Her presence
    was all this night lacked. Fade to black.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 9 – Noir for the Ninth

  11. CURSES TO YOU, HEARTLESS WENCH!

    Unfeeling, leaving hearts reeling,
    stealing emotion on the notion
    that you can’t miss what you never had.
    Bad, bad, AWFUL bad, and it’s sad
    that a love lost and a woman scorned
    become the choice of the lesser
    of the two evils proposed. You
    are left exposed to her icy stare.
    You wouldn’t dare question your fate.
    You’d hate to find her frigid digits
    around your nape; grasping, gasping
    for air and a wooden stake. You fail
    to see any humor or any laughing matter,
    for that matter. An “Ice Queen” would be
    a dream girl compared to her barren tundra.
    But, you’re under her spell and your heart is hers,
    at least until she’s done walking all over it.
    Go to hell you witch! OK, I’ll show you the way.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 10 – Un-love Poem

  12. STALEMATE

    Winter’s grip extends
    long after Spring stakes her claim.
    Snows and rains battle;
    precipitation confused,
    each refusing to relent.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 11 (Tanka)

  13. WALKING THE DOG

    Leash taut and straining,
    draining the energy from
    her tired legs. She begs
    her friend to slow the pace,
    but he just wags his tail
    and licks her face dragging
    her a bit further up the block.

    Two young boys discussing
    the finer points of the
    designated hitter, a bat
    over the shoulder of one,
    the other beside his bike.
    Not a common scene today,
    but refreshing; a throw back.

    A retired gentleman stands
    hands clutching yard tools,
    ankle deep in mud from
    the days of torrential rain.
    The storm drains plug
    and he’s dug the muck
    that has stuck to the grate.

    Sounds usually presented
    as background noise
    comes to the fore. Once more
    the baseball chatter of boys,
    and the scrape of spade against
    metal mesh annoys. And a happy
    dog barks at his best friend in the world.

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 13 (Observations on a walk)

  14. LAMONT’S LAMENT

    In the shadows I lurk,
    who knows what evil lives
    in these hearts. I cannot hide
    my dismay at the mind
    of a mankind that perpetrates
    and preys on the lesser lights.
    They are left in the darkness
    of their souls; in the shadows.
    My identity keeps me cloaked
    and this shroud I carry coolly.
    I can see from here that
    I can strike fear in the wayward
    and protect those who need protecting.
    I Live by these simple truths:
    “The weed of crime bears bitter fruit.
    Crime does not pay” that’s what I always say!
    “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts
    of men? The Shadow knows!”

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 14 – Superhero P.O.V.

  15. BLOOMS OF LOVE

    …and all at once, the rain had ceased.
    The length of sunshine has increased.
    When did my children grow so quick?
    Why has it left me feeling sick

    when the warmth of Spring emerges?
    Comfort in this season’s surges.
    Little girls become young women
    and all the changes from within –

    blossoms having rooted now bloom,
    fragrant flowers fill up the room.
    Decorating each life they touch,
    truly knowing they mean so much.

    Life’s bouquet gathered together,
    flourishing in all kinds of weather,
    Grown in love to know what life means;
    ever-growing, evergreen!

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 15 – Halfway There – Pantun

  16. LOST IN TRANSLATION: ALTRA LUNA by Stefano Dal Bianco

    ORIGINAL POEM:

    ALTRA LUNA by Stefano Dal Bianco

    Ho visto la luna più chiara di sempre
    alzarsi dietro il monte
    e non ho fatto niente.
    Non ho parlato né pensato
    e qualcosa ho sentito,
    ma non avrei voluto.
    Ho sentito di voler combattere il sentire,
    di non volere la luna per me
    e di non darmi alla luna,
    ma di fissare un’altra luce
    radicata dalla terra al cielo e in me rinata
    e generata dalla luna.

    © 2001, Stefano Dal Bianco

    MY TRANSLATION:

    ALTERNATE MOON by Walter J. Wojtanik

    My vision of the moon is bright for always
    as it comes above the mountains
    I do not choose this.
    Not with my words; not my thoughts
    all my senses being equal,
    but it is not how I wanted.
    My senses do strongly fight my defenses,
    Do not extinguish the moon for me,
    it is not just this moon,
    there is another light
    ridicule the earth and instill in me a return
    of new generations of the moon.

    © 2013, Walter J. Wojtanik

    Written to prompt for NaPoWriMo 2013 n- Day 16 Translation

  17. YOU HAD ME AT HELLO

    You piqued my interest standing there,
    and in that instant I was aware.
    I knew you existed,
    there was music in your voice.
    your red hair braided; twisted,
    you were the perfect choice.
    I loved the way your hips did sway,
    when you went walking by.
    and every day you’ve been away
    I’m left to wonder why.
    The day we met stays with me,
    I wish that you could know,
    You’ve left your heart here with me,
    You had me at hello!

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written to prompt for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 17 Greeting

  18. LET GO

    Jettisoned.
    The ties that bind have released,
    a piece of your past floats
    mindlessly, aimlessly into
    the atmosphere. Your decisions
    are as vacuous as air of late,
    but the great thing about it,
    is once you set things free,
    you are able to start fresh.
    Step free of the mess you had
    a hand in and begin again.
    The first step is admitting
    you were a part of the problem.
    The umbilical has been cut;
    Major Tom is a satellite on this
    star-filled night. Freedom is just
    another word for not giving a flying starship!
    No anchor will hold once the tether
    has been snipped. Release your grip and drift.
    You have been jettisoned!

    © Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013

    Written to prompt for NaPoWriMo 2013 – Day 18 Same Word: First and Last

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