PROMPT #256 – SAME OLD SONG AND DANCE

Many of us are inspired by music. A catchy lyric that stirs our souls, or a melody that haunts or lingers seems to transfix thoughts that become our poetry. We’ve written based on a line or a title of a song to great effect.

But, we neglect the dance. Until today. We ask you to write a “dance” poem. It could be about a specific type of dance, or just the art of dancing itself. And whether we’re dancing on eggshells, or dancing around an issue, our chance to dance can be inspiring in itself. So put your best foot (and poem) forward, and show us your moves.

MARIE’S STEPS:

As we put up corn,
we listen to jazz, and dance
hug and hold and sway.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

WALT’S TIPTOE THROUGH THE TULIPS:

LOVE WILL DANCE

Find romance
looking for love in places
those traces of love will dance

Take a chance
those two hearts can beat as one,
ours beat bolder to enhance

completely.
What the world needs now is love.
It will fill your lives sweetly.

Romance lives
in almost hidden spaces.
But, believe the joy it gives.

Look within
to find all that your lives lack,
love gives it back once again.

Love will dance.
It possesses the power
to heal hearts . Find romance.
Love will dance.

 

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

PROMPT #255 – CALLIOPE MUSIC

As we sprint through the year, it is clear we are inspired to complete the race with little trace of wear and tear on our muse (or our bodies). We’ve stepped into August as Summer rolls along and the air is strong with carnivals and county and state fairs.  (Our County Fair is in full swing at this writing). They have their own appeal. Games and food, attractions and displays, crowds and music abound. And speaking of music, you can hear live bands, and some recordings. You’ll even hear calliope music. And it is fitting for this prompt since Calliope in Greek mythology is the Muse who presides over eloquence and epic poetry.

So, here is the prompt: write a memory of one of those events (carnival, County or State fair) or of any aspect of one of those. Was there a certain ride you enjoyed/hated? A game you played or an exhibit you looked forward to seeing? A food you savored? Or did you just enjoy being out with the crowd to people watch. There is so much there from which to choose. Revive the fun and have a great time in rhyme. Meet us at the fair! We’ll see you there.

 

MARIE’S FAIR TO GOOD:

Summer Fair

“Let’s rhyme,” he says, and so I do
of summer fairs and barbeque,
with marching-band parades uptown,
and small-town smiles all around.
The carny folk that drew you in
with big stuffed prizes you could win,
but off you’d go with some cheap toy
you’d carry home, but not enjoy.
Yet nonetheless, you’ll reminisce,
and I will guarantee you this:
That you will wish you were still there:
that child at the summer fair.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

WALT’S FAIR DAZE:

FAIR GAME

Walking the tract over miles of midway,
the day starts early, ends late.
It is a great day for the Fair.
Aromas waft from the food trail,
and odors prevail near the animal barns.
Rows and rows of chickens and cows,
goats and colts and fillies.
Silly displays and a day’s worth of fun,
sore and tired feet when the day’s done.
Arts and crafts and artifacts,
historical reproductions and representations,
stations to buy and sell, hucksters from hell
and carnies fill the bill. And the games?
Bingo-like “I-Got-It” and a lot of chances
to romance her with large stuffed dust collectors.
But now of days, my chance taking comes to this,
do I want Louie’s Pizza, or a barbecue chicken dish?
Both come with a suggestion of indigestion!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

PROMPT #254 – SECOND WIND

We’ve made it through our exercise in utility, our July P.E.O.D Memoir Chapbook Challenge. Congratulate all who stuck it out to the end and were able to pen at least one poem every other day. And a hearty “nice try” to those who gave it at least a fighting chance of completing it. I’ll post instructions for the next phase of the project soon. In the meantime, polish and revise if needed and be ready for it. Now we get back to our business as usual. Take a deep breath and get your second wind.

Everything takes an effort. Big or small, we do our best to complete the task at hand. And even if we stumble along the way, we find we can pick ourselves up and go on. We begin again, get our second wind.

So, to restart the POETIC BLOOMINGS foray into poetry, you are asked to write a “second wind” poem. What did you refuse to get the best of you? What required that little extra for you to get things done? Breathe some fresh air into your words!

MARIE’S IS NOT A BREEZE:

RUNNER’S SECOND WIND

If ever I’m coerced
to run (yet unrehearsed)
there’d be no second,
‘cause I reckon
first wind must come first.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

 

WALTS BAG O’ WIND:

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

PROMPT # 253 – PREAMBLE TO SUMMER

Another Summer on our doorstep. I don’t know about you, but the weather has been disappointing around here. A lot of rain and no chance to keep up with the high grass! But, that’s not the typical vision of summer. Give us an image of the idylls of Summer to make the anticipation of this season worth our while. Evoke a smile, illicit a tear, give your Summer whatever twist it needs to make us forget the lead up into its arrival. We, the people expect more from Summer than most months of the years. Write your preamble to Summer.

MARIE’S LEAD:

GIMME MORE JUNE

People are joking,
Poking fun at Ohio.
But this mild June
Has me beguiled.
Too soon, we will
Sweat, and I bet
Some will regret
Their protests,
Once oppressive heat
And mosquitoes meet
Beneath the firecrackers –
Hijackers of all that
Makes me swoon this June.

So chill. Grab the grill
While it’s still cool.

Grammar school!
Error there:
Not cool grill, but cool air.

Make the most of June –
She’ll be gone soon.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

WALT’S ENTICEMENT:

SMILES FOR A SUMMER NIGHT

I walk along the shoreline. Evening has lowered her veil showing her sumptuous soft features laced by her endearing charms. Darkness sweeps the horizon as if her arms had become heavy and fall slowly to her side. I slide my hand into hers when she would allow it and we steal soft whispers and the most delicious tender kisses, a bliss unknown to us so far. And as the stars find their spaces, our faces are graced by a glow so bright it can be seen for miles and miles of smiles for a summer night!

waves washing away
the harshness of  summer days
as the night smiles

(c) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

PROMPT # 252 – COMING AND GOING

They say that it is good to get away, but it’s even more wonderful being back home again. And in that regard there are two views to this issue. Some will say, “They’re coming home today!” The other side thinks, “I’m going home.” There is always comings and goings. This prompt came to me on the day my darling granddaughter was “going home” from the hospital. She has come home to new surroundings, new sounds. An newly finished bedroom, and her future partners in crime, her dogs Guinness and Marvel. If this prompt makes you unsure whether you’re coming or going, write one of each. Write a “coming” poem. Write a “going” poem. Or give a voice to your frustration and write a “comings and Goings” poem.

MARIE’S COMING SMILES!

For Sophie and Izzy (Our Rosie and Bean)

Four little loved feet lived a few feet away
‘Til they moved to St. Thomas’s lush Caret Bay.
Abruptly, an ocean and 2,000 miles
Created a chasm, and dampened our smiles.

But then they moved closer (no ocean to cross)
And the far-fewer miles seemed less of a loss.
“It’s all relative,” as the old saying goes,
But oh how we still miss our Bean and our Rose.

Now all of a sudden, life’s changing again!
We’re all looking forward to Saturday, when
Four little loved feet can stay put and not roam:
Our Sophie and Izzy are coming back home!

It’s hard to believe it’s been only one year
Since we said our goodbyes, and we choked back our tears.
Here’s move number three in a rather short time –
Returning our smiles, and ending this rhyme. 🙂

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

WALT’S GOING STRONG:

SINCE I’M GOING TO WRITE SOMETHING ANYWAY…(I might as well rhyme!)

I might as well rhyme.
I have this blank page, and the time
and the rage to go gently into that good write.

I might as well rhyme.
A poem is as expressive as I can get,
and I’m of a mind do it all on my dime every time.

I might as well rhyme.
Poets are a special breed. We don’t need much
except a muse and just enough heart to get started.

Since I’m going to write something anyway,
I might as well rhyme.
It’s the best way to know I’m alive.

 © Copyright Walter J Wojtanik

PROMPT #251 – AND I QUOTE! #5

Today, consider this quote as the inspiration for your poem. 

Imagination is the true magic carpet.

~Norman Vincent Peale

It’s as simple as that.  Let your imagination run amok. Or write a “magic” poem. Maybe take a magic carpet ride, tell us where you’d go! There’s more than the obvious at work here. Where will you find your inspiration?

MARIE’S IMAGINATION:

WISTFULLY CONVINCED

I. JASMINE AND MARY

One flies on carpet.
The other, her umbrella.
Both take me with them.

II. UNCLE ALBERT

Sometimes I believe
if I laugh hard enough, I’ll
float to the ceiling.

III. DOROTHY

Don’t be surprised to
witness me clicking my heels
when I get homesick.

IV. BASTIAN

See, books are more real
than our realest lives, and “nothing”
can take that away.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

 

WALT’S MAGIC:

THE PULL OF POETIC IMAGINING

A master of words and a need to create,
describes the man to a tee.
Any stretch of his imagination
becomes a march to places
that neither street car, nor train can take him.
It makes him change his thinking,
bringing all calls to share  his mind
an invitation to become faint of heart or die.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2019

 

PROMPT #250 – WE ARE A WILD PARTY!

Welcome to Prompt # 250, a milestone of sorts. Through the many years where we’ve planted these seeds and watched them blossom to the beauty of your words, and through the many incarnations of this original good idea, we have come to this day. Uncork the champagne, drop the confetti and balloons and make some noise, girls and boys! Today we party!

So, in the most simplest of terms, write a “Party” poem. You may be celebrating a holiday or an anniversary. You could be writing of a “party of one” or recalling a “party line.” Or we can fete another day that we had made it through.

MARIE’S MERRIEMAKING:

THE DEARLY DEPARTIED

There once was a gal named Marie
Whose good friends and fam would agree
If she’s uninvited,
She’s just as delighted
To stay home and drink her hot tea.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

WALT’S WILD TIME:

PARTY, KARAMU, FIESTA FOREVER

Every day,
and all night long
a raucous song rings
out loud, shouts and cheers,
frothy beers and what doesn’t
Tequila will only make you fall
flat on your face. This place
is crazy… a reason to celebrate
and be lazy. The only way –
a playful day full of fiesta.
Party and karamu, forever!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik

PROMPT #249 – PLAYING FAVORITES #5

We head back to visit an old stand-by. Yes, we are playing favorites. Again. You may remember the drill. Choose a line from a favorite poem, or poet and use that as the title, a line or the inspiration for your poem. It could be a classic poet or one of our compatriots on the many poetry blogs with which we associate. As always, identify the poem and poet from which you cull your snippet and give credit where it is due.

MARIE’S CULLED LINE:

WHEN THE PURPOSE OF KNEES WAS TO BE SKINNED

Splinters were the worst.
Tweezers first;
Needles if needed
While I screamed and squirmed
And wormed my way
Back out to play.

Skipping, flipping
Chipping my tooth
(Now it’th loothe)
Palms muddied
Bloodied nose drips
Split lips
Both knees shredded
Splinter still embedded.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

Inspired by the line “when the purpose of knees was to be skinned,” from John Tobias’ Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle Received from a Friend Called Felicity
(Thanks to my friend Lydia, who gifted me the book that contains John’s poem!)

##

WALT’S REVERED REPLY:

SHOULD WE?

“Should we kiss?” you said.
I’m not sure why I chose to ponder.
You had left me to wonder what bliss
you could bestow on me should we kiss.
Should we?
Shall we?
You said it shyly,
your wiley smile said
what your words could’ve instead.
Should we kiss?
yes.
Should hearts express such bliss?
Yes.
Shall we?
YES!
I dipped to your lips
a tender kiss
and this is what brought us
to the place in which we now dwell.
And I can always tell,
you started it.
“Should we kiss?” you said.
Yes we should, I said.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2019

 

Taken heartfully from SO WE DECIDED (by Andrea Heiberg) found in Andrea’s interview with Marie Elena

 

 

PROMPT #248 – THE RESULT OF APRIL SHOWERS

You’ve all heard the old children’s rhyme, “April showers bring May Flowers.” And around these parts (Western New York) we’ve had our saturation of rain through April and extending into the merry month of May. So, logic says we should be abounding with flowers. I’ve spotted a few sprouts, but not much about which to write home. We’ll change that!

Here in the “Best Garden For Poetry” we began with a simple seed. We’ve continued to nurture and see the progression from that simple zygote to a full bloom. So we will further explore this phenomenon. So, write a “flower” poem. It could be a particular flower, a favored bloom. It could be a flowering of a sort, not necessarily plant related. Make the flower your title and water and nurture your poem with your vision in words. In my case, I’ll spread a little manure to get things growing! So, go forth and blossom!

 

MARIE’S EXTRAORDINARY ROSE:

MY SOPHIA ROSE

At the age of seven, Sophie built a hand bouquet for me, a few items at a time. When it was complete, I told her how beautiful it was. The short conversation that ensued may not exactly be a poem, but it is sheer poetry to me, and will reside in my heart forever:

It’s complete? It’s beautiful, Sophie. Thank you!

         It’s your personality, Nonna.

This bouquet is my personality? What do you mean? What would you say is my personality?

        Eternal happiness and love for everyone.

Oh, Sophie … that is so sweet. Thank you! And what would you say is YOUR personality?

        I’m love, too. And care for everyone, everywhere.

Light emanating
from an unsullied child’s heart
sparks a better us.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

WALT’S WEEDS:

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE?

Where have all the flowers gone?
Trampled under foot; dying
slowly the fragrance lingers.
Beauty of blooms past.

 

** A Dodoitsu 

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2019 

##

GRANDPA’S FLOWER SOON TO BLOOM

She will spread her cheer every year.

She will be alive with joy and a heavenly dimpled smile.

Another of the sun-shines of my life, soon to be,

the sunflower of same. Her name will be Brooklyn,

and her bloom will brighten every garden she sees fit to visit.

© Walter J Wojtanik, 2019

PROMPT #247 – TAKE ME BACK TO CHICAGO

Those who know me somewhat well, know I am a huge fan of The Beatles and Sinatra. Neil Diamond and Billy Joel. These are the artists that stir me. They keep my heart pumping. But, if there was any music I could consider the soundtrack of my life, it would be the music of Chicago. When they first came onto the scene, they billed themselves as a “Rock band with horns.” They were a different sound (an acquired taste). They were off the beaten path and they were not afraid to re-invent themselves on many occasions. (The source of my affinity to them!) Though their line-up has changed over the course of over fifty years, they are as vibrant as ever, as they are still performing. I had the good fortune to see them live 15 times in my life.

From “Color My World” to “Beginnings”, “24 or 6 to 4” to “You’re the Inspiration” (a great piece for a poet to love!), they have been able to make memories with their sound. Two of their other works are “Old Days” and “Take Me Back to Chicago.” These both reminisce about times that were simpler and when values were more… valued. Look at what they sang about. Drive-In movies, comic books, blue jeans, Howdy Doody… memories. Simpler times – street corners and Tastee Freeze… life was free and easy. Childhood moments, respect for one another, courtesy, empathy all seem to not matter much anymore. I guess you can tell I’m a misplaced soul born a bit too late. The animus that rules these days makes us long for the old days, of simpler times.

What do you miss from those times that you would bring back if you could? Deceased family members and friends notwithstanding, what are these days missing in that regard? Something that gave you pleasure. Something you wished you had again. Something that would make you “sing” and give you some peace of mind in this troubled world (no political diatribes, please! We’re not THAT place.) Take Me Back To Chicago or wherever that place was and write your poem. We’ll all hum along!

***

BONUS PROMPT: Being today is Mother’s Day, any poetic tribute to Mom is welcome and will be much appreciated.

 

MARIE’S WISTFUL AFFECTION:

nos·tal·gia  /näˈstaljə,nəˈstaljə/   – noun.
A sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.

I’d say that everyone looks back on their childhood fondly.
But the unfortunate truth is that is unfortunately untrue,
and that unfortunate truth means I was truly fortunate.
In spite of that wording being almost comically convoluted,
it is written through tears of genuine gratitude.

My parents were simple and loving.
They infused me with a love for simple things. 
Perhaps it was the times.  Just the way life was.

But I don’t think so.
I think if they were to start over,
this time would be no different. 
Family would still be priority.
There would still be no such thing as coming home
to an empty house.
Music would still fill the soul.
All my love, and love me always would still grace every note
in every house we call home.
I love you.  You know that.
Yes Mom.  I do know that.  You lived it every day,
even when Alzheimer’s threatened to erase us
like chalk on a board,
leaving only ghostly swipes.

Longing to return to childhood
for one more day. One more hug.
One more chance to watch Mighty Mouse
T-boned on the floor with Dad,
my head using his tummy as a pillow.
One more turn to curl up in Mom’s lap,
rocked in the very chair that now sits across from me
as I write this poem, longing to hear her voice.
“I love you.  You know that.” 

© Marie Elena, 2019

 

WALT’S LONGING:

RESPECT: GIVEN AND EARNED

A generous heart with the capacity to love unconditionally;
despite our flaws and our foibles, everything left on the table
came from a deep seated respect for life and my place in it.
Disagreements were never fights, and rights were something
that were never followed by lefts, or any combination thereof.
He gave me my space; room to grow and learn from mistakes
made with regularity early on; less frequent when he needed
a competent aid and caretaker. The inheritance came as an intangible,
a right of passage that gave every woman and man their due
in lieu of their station in life or place of origin. Giving me all
that he knew I could handle because he believed you earned
everything you wanted and were given everything you needed.
Respect always came at equal value. You only got what you gave.
I’ve saved it all these years, treasured and heart bound,
found in a generous heart with the capacity to love. Life’s lesson.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2019