PROMPT #440 – EXPERIENCE NOT NECESSARY

It appears our numbers are dwindling, and I wonder how much longer we can carry on. This week is as much a survey as it is a prompt. What I’m looking for is this- write something about this Poetic Bloomings site. What do you like about it? Not like about it? What do you miss from it? Give something that says it continues to be a viable endeavor. What has your experience with it been like? Let us know.

WALT OFFERS:

PEOPLE OVER POEMS

For being a poetry blog, it’s more about the people than the words. We can pen prose or poetry anywhere, but you’ll never find a better blend of poets willing to care for and share with each other. That’s what drew us to start this space. There are few places I will post to anymore, but Poetic Bloomings keeps my muse alive. It’s the people!

A poet pens poems, 
Giving a piece of their soul. 
Emotions control.

(c) Walter J Wojtanik

PROMPT#439 – INTERNATIONAL FLAIR

It seems everything has an international flair. Think in the terms of these examples:

American Pie – Canadian Sunset – French Toast – Belgian Waffles…

Think of something with that in mind and make it the basis of your poem.

WALT’S THOUGHT

CANADIAN BACON

Bacon comes in strips

and crisps when you cook it.

You can book it.

But north of the border

it feels like a scam,

Canadian bacon looks like ham.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik

PROMPT#438 – ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Once again, I’m traveling to the Great White North to visit my daughter. A five and a half hour drive on a sunlit, cloudless day.

We’re writing a travel poem or a destination poem.

A tribute to mom gets you extra credit!

WALT MOVES:

DRAWN TO THE WATER

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky  ~John Masefield from “Sea Fever”

I am drawn to the water,
a sanctuary dank and deep,
where Neptune’s sleep is unsullied
and tranquil. I will go there

where a sailor’s son should roam,
a second home for a weary traveler,
a reveler in life’s safe harbour.
Looking towards horizons and distant

places, of  foreign faces that grace these places
and dreams of adventure of which there are many.
Anyone who is so drawn is a son of the sea,
a welcomed one who is asked but one thing,

“What will you bring to the sea?”
for treasures that abound are found deep within,
and in their discovery we find ourselves.
I am ever-drawn to the water

a sanctuary dank and deep,
where the son of a sailor finds eternal sleep.

© Walter J. Wojtanik 

In response to:

Sea Fever

By John Masefield

 I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

And one for mom:

A MOTHER LOST

I come to the grounds of your rest;
the best I can do to be with you today.
The sky is unsettled, and dreams long 
since dreamed land clumsily shattering
like glass. I rub your stone; an image 
of your name in charcoal remains,
stains of a heart broken, this small token
of the life you gave me. I listen and murmurs
blown though barren tree branches
whisper, waiting for the axe to fall.
And all at once it vanishes. Memories
of a mother departed still close to heart.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik

PROMPT #437 – MANY HAPPY RETURNS

It always comes back to poetry. No matter where we go, we always return to poetry. The sparrows always return to Capistrano. The sequel to my poetry collection “Wood”, is called “Return to Wood”. There are many happy returns. So you are asked to write a return poem this week.Come back as much as you like. We’ll welcome your efforts!

In an unfortunate chain of events, Sara McNulty has taken a nasty backwards fall on cement and suffered a broken and dislocated wrist and regrettably has had to back out as the co-host here. We’ll carry on as best we can in her and Marie’s absence.

WALT’S REWORK:

A RETURN TO POEM

He reverts back to where he started,
now a ghost writer of his former self.
A crack had developed in his resolve,
and solving cryptic word puzzles
never allowed him to free his mind
in the ways he was used to.
His poetic hand was worn and tired
and he had retired from poemic pursuits.
But the new recruits didn’t know enough
to check his myriad of work.
A once “big deal” had gotten sick of lurking
in the shadows; he thought
he ought to get back to expressing
what his heart wrongly guessed was best left unsaid!
It was better to come back from the dead!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik

PROMPT #436 – STEP UP TO THE PLATE

It’s my unpleasant duty to inform our gardener poets that Marie Elena Good, our co-founder and host will need to step aside from those duties. She is well, but dealing with some issues that require her undivided attention. We’ve agreed to keep the garden gate open if she feels she will be able to return. Marie has been a tireless supporter and poet here, and will be missed greatly.

In Marie’s absence, Sara McNulty has stepped up to the plate and agreed to return as my co-host. She will assume those duties with next week’s prompt. Thanks to Sara for her commitment.

This week we ask you to write a “step” poem in whatever configuration you see fit!

WALT STEPS:

BIG SHOES TO FILL

One after another,
on the path walked before you.
The terrain must again be traversed
as if it were reserved just for you.
Your pace is solid and sure
and your memories are pure
and your direction is true.
It is up to you, it’s your due,
following footsteps;
following through!

PROMPT #435 – ON THE MENU

We’re studying the menu today. Literal or slang, words can have two (or more) meanings. Today we’re doing it with food. Did you ever “butter” someone up? Do you cut the “mustard “? Have a “beef” with someone?

Think of food words in these terms, and serve your poem while it’s hot! Don’t be “chicken”!

WALT’S FARE:

JIVE TURKEY

She calls me a jive turkey,
and that’s a lot of stuffing,
I’m on the line, I’m not so jive,
Though I am the smoothest bird alive.
Everything else is gravy!

(c) Walter J Wojtanik - 2023

PROMPT #434 – GOING OLD SCHOOL

We’re going back to the very beginning for this week’s prompt. With spring having to creep in, can garden blooms be far behind?

Every garden starts with a seed. A small part of the big picture; a beginning. And so we begin at Poetic Bloomings.

The prompt for this Sunday reflects that idea. Write a “seed” poem. It could literally be a seed of a plant, of an idea that sparks a greater effort. It could be the beginning of a life, or whatever you feel would be the start of something big. Get started. That’s a beginning in itself.

WALTS REBIRTH:

PLAYTIME

the blooms are starting to show.
forget the snow and cold and
wish for the bold colors to begin
their glad ascent. flowers are 
heaven sent and their scent is
glorious. it is an uproarious day
where winter hides 
and the blooms come out to play!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2023

PROMPT #433 – PROMPT YOURSELF

Today we take a break from poeming, and celebrate the Easter holiday. I will not post a prompt directly, but if you would like to post poems you are working on we welcome them. If you’re following challenges for poetry month, bring them over where they’ll be appreciated.

HAPPY EASTER!

PROMPT #432 – FUNNY, YOU DON’T LOOK FOOLISH

Through our lives we’ve all heard sayings and adages that we sometimes mishear or misinterpret. In our retelling, we can sound pretty foolish. Take one such line and change a word to be the basis for your poem. Stop, look and glisten through your verse! It could be worse!

WALTS MALAPROP:

LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORED FLING

Be careful when you fall in love,
It might hurt you and leave you
without a leg to stand on.
And when love is gone you stoop
to looking beyond your circumstance.
Keep your feet, be discreet and dance,
that’s the major thing.
And always go where your heart will show,
love is a many splendored fling!

(c) Walter J Wojtanik -2023

PROMPT #431 – HARBINGERS OF SPRING (AND WHATNOT)

The weather may not realize it quite yet, but we are of a mind for spring. After this harsh winter, it was a long time coming. I know we may not be quite done, but it won’t hurt to get our minds right. There are signs all around us. The birds are starting to return, the buds on the trees and crocuses are beginning to show. A week has passed and we have surely been inspired by the sights, sounds and smells of spring. Spring ahead with your best seasonal poems celebrating the demise of the winter doldrums.

WALT’S SAMPLE:

NO SIGN OF SPRING

Winter holds animus,
She refuses to depart
to allow Spring to start.

We languish in her grip,
slipping on her icy floor
& more snow than we’ve needed.

We’ve pleaded for an end,
offering to send her
on the vacation of choice.

But inside our heads, her voice;
a sinister laugh and taunt
and howling winds that haunt

and toss us, to boss us
into cowering here
where it should be flowering.

There's no sign of Spring.
Come prove you don’t hate us
and end your hiatus.

© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik