We’re looking off into the near distance, searching our horizon for the next big thing. Every adventure is out there for our taking as long as we’re making a concerted effort to reach for it. Of course, writing a horizon poem will work for you here as well. Or take a new look at an old thing and make it new (relatively) again! We stand on the cusp of that brave new world. Where will it take you?
Fog may blur your view
of hope on the horizon,
but it’s no less there.
Walt here. So, I stand on the cusp of a new adventure in my life. I will be retiring in June (June 3rd to be exact). And being within the month, I’ve been keeping silent count of the remaining days. I figured that’s a good point to use as reference, so here’s what I propose..
A COUNTDOWN TO ______________
Write of the anticipated something in your life in a countdown to that momentous occasion. That’s the theme, but you can word it however you wish to convey your thoughts. I’m counting on you all to do me proud (you’ve never let me down!) I don’t anticipate you’ll start now.
Money cannot buy happiness,
even the misery it buys isn't that great.
But for the sake of this debate
I'd take that million and buy a million people's dreams.
silly as it seems, I'd replace their dreams with a new reality
foregoing life's banality and offering
a better life than whatever strife they may possess;
turn their failure into great success, and I confess
I would be happy to oblige their whimsy
just to show them how flimsy their wishes would be.
Maybe they'll see that they never needed more than
they already had. It's not that bad to have just enough.
Life is rough enough without the added burden.
It would be absurd to think otherwise.
Last week, we wrote Origins poems. This week, we ask you to write Finished poems. Perhaps you completed a course, or a paper. Maybe a relationship ended. This month, maybe you are wondering if you will make it to the end of a Poem-a-Day challenge. 😀 You may try using a synonym for a lesser-used definition, like “wrecked,” or “polished.” Maybe you’ll simply complete a poem or thought.
In any case, we look forward to seeing your finished product!
It is my belief that when Jesus said he died once for all, He meant it. It is my belief that when Jesus said, “All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out,” He meant it. It is my belief that when Jesus said, “For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of Him who sent me,” He meant it. It is my belief that when Jesus said, “And this is the will of Him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that He has given me, but raise it up on the last day,” He meant it. It is my belief that when God said He created every star, and calls each by name, He meant it. It is my belief that when God said, “See, I have written your name on the palms of my hands,” He meant it.
And I believe when Jesus, near death, said, “It is finished,” He meant it.
I hearken to my Father
And he knows my voice.
His will is my choice;
I will do as he asks.
No greater task have I
Than to die for the sins of many.
I call to my Father “They do not know
and they show no mercy”
“Abba, Father, I give my spirit.
It is finished!
(C) Walter J Wojtanik- 2022
For those participating in one of the April Poem-a-Day challenges (such as Robert Lee Brewer’s, where many of us got our start in writing and sharing poems), we wish you an inexhaustible poetry excursion! Here at Poetic Bloomings, we will continue offering our Sunday morning prompts for you.
Today, let’s start at the beginning. Maybe the first line of a story you are writing, or the seed of a new poem trying to sprout. Perhaps the book of Genesis. Your ancestry. The root of a problem. Wherever you decide to begin, please end with sharing your poem here for us to enjoy. We’ve already begun looking forward to your response!
WHAT DAWNED ON MARIE
To think that my God had no beginning leaves me peace-filled for my end.
We call this our garden, and rightfully so. The beauty that blooms here is lovely and diverse. There are the staple perennials, and then there are those blooms that pop up here and there to dot our landscape with unanticipated presence.
St. Patrick’s Day is pea-planting day — the first day of planting in our colder-weather regions. As we all celebrate spring’s arrival, let’s grace our garden with poems about planting. Plant seeds. Plant a thought. Transplant yourself. Even root for your team. 😉 Let’s make this garden flourish!
My husband says he has to pea, when planting season’s come to be. At dinner time, he peas on the floor. That’s uncalled for. And furthermore, when he refers to he and me, should I suspect he’s saying wee?
CAN YOU DIG IT?
Spring is ready to be sprung,
It's time to toil in the soil!
There's so much beauty to behold
As wee emerge from winter's cold.
Flowers soon will raise their blooms
Like children sneaking from their rooms
Can you dig it? I knew you could!
(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2022
The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the … squirrel! People seem to get distracted by the narrative. That shiny bauble is alluring but elusive. But to tell the truth, we’re taking about honesty. Some say it’s a ”lost art” and they may be right. So honestly, you have a choice. Write an honesty poem. Or write a dishonest poem. No ifs, ands, or … squirrels!
MARIE IN ALL HONESTY:
I would tell you the truth if I could, but I’m not really sure if I should. So I’ll let you just think that I’m truthful (wink, wink) when I’m honestly up to no good.
I would tell you the truth if I knew it, but I’d likely be lying all through it. Speaking truth’s not my thing – too much yarn to unstring. When it comes to a lie, I just spew it.
If you think the above are not lies, then I think I deserve a big prize for my words really threw you and all this is due to a license to just poetize. 😉
I HONESTLY LOVE YOU
I got something to tell you that I never thought I would
But I believe you really ought to know
I love you
I honestly love you
~Song Lyric: ”I Honestly Love You”
You know I’ve loved you all your life, and gave you all that I possibly could,
and I’ve promised to love you all my life,
in your heart you know I would.. There is no one that I love above you.
I love you. I honestly love you.
I hadn’t said it enough, i fear,
I feel a gladness when you're here. the gentle smile to grace your face. you bring your presence to this place
you know how much my words can move you.
I love you, I honestly love you!
Please don’t feel uncomfortable,
but if you love someone, please let them know
If you get the chance, take the chance to say honestly,
I love you,
I honestly love you!
We’re thinking animals this week. It’s a fact that animals are blessed with certain instincts and traits to aid in their survival. We know a cheetah is very fast. We’ve all heard of how “wise” an owl is. Squirrels are gatherers. Dogs are loyal; cats aloof… Take an animal trait or instinct and use that as your inspiration for your poetry. Mild or wild, get “animalistic” on us!
WHERE THE BUFFALO ROAM
Silently they graze,
and suddenly in a dusty haze
they kick up their hooves
and raise the roofs,
a guaranteed stampede indeed.
You can hear them rumble,
yet they remain humble,
they hear nature's call
as one by one their obstacles fall.
And from the deepest of chills
you can hear them shout,
It’s a new year. Hopefully we’ll experience changes in a positive way. (Not anything like the past couple of years). And as we think of changes, who knew change better than the Thin White Duke, David Bowie, who would have celebrated his 75th birthday yesterday. Bowie was instrumental in changing music. He changed his style (think Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars vs. Little Drummer Boy with Bing Crosby). He had changed his persona on a few occasions, always morphing into different versions of himself. Then there is one of his hit singles, “Changes.”
We’re writing a change poem. Change can do you good. And the aspect of change, from spare change, to loose change, to whatever change you can imagine. Perhaps change your poetic style for this one. You decide whether bad or good, but make your Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes flow!
I've found myself slowing down a bit,
pitching less of a fit and finding the groove
I'm in moves me in a whole new direction.
I'm in no hurry of late, not looking to become
the late, great Walt. It's my fault, bringing
so much passion to my words that you've heard
before. I'm more sedate, (that's debatable)
less stable with all my cards on the table.
The best cards held close to the vest
have long been played. Not looking
to cash my chips in just yet. I forget where
I had left them. I'll get them neatly stacked
and be back for the final deal. So my steps
have faltered a smidge and Walter by the fridge
is where you'll find me. Don't mind me.
As long as I've got a few arms up my sleeves,
I'll leave here writing verse. It could be worse.
I could be riding in the back of the hearse,
instead of giving the funeral director directions.
As we close in on Christmas, we are surrounded by the trappings of the season. Pick an item associated with Christmas and write a Christmas poem from that item’s point of view. It could be an ornament, or a branch on Christmas tree. It might be an angel tree topper or a figurine from your nativity creche. What does the donkey see? The Star of Bethlehem? Christmas from a different perspective.
We are fortunate this week to get an early Christmas gift, in the guise of our Marie Elena Good rejoining us. It is a Good present indeed!
Cross of Christ
My place atop the Christmas tree may seem a lofty place for me, but humbly, I point down below through greenery and lights aglow to manger scene that holds the Christ who paid the price in sacrifice for every woman, man, and child – this perfect Lamb – this undefiled Rescuer, Redeemer, God I represent, and richly laud.
Each year, they bring me out to celebrate,
and I wait in silent vigil, keeping watch
over everything Christmas. My uniform
is well appointed and my double jointed
jaw may have me cracking jokes
or other nutty things. Mouse Kings
and sugarplum faeries complete my circle.
I do enjoy the joyous music this time of year.
My job is to protect and serve with nerves
of oak, just like any bloke who chooses
to enlist their service. Yet, I'm nervous.
I'm suspicious of that elf up on that shelf!
(c) Walter J Wojtanik - 2021