Answering the Poet: Email Revolutionary Haiku

Your answers, though quick,
read like poetry themselves.
Waves pounding the shore.

Dumped on the I-5 from Canby: A Romantic ConTEXTing Poem

On I-5 from Canby/
I had 2 let her go./
It wasn’t up 2 me;/
she left long b4./
Ignoring who she was,/
what she could b,/
I missed my shot,/
got left/
on I-5 from Canby.

Non-Hearing Pain: A Romantic ConTEXTing Poetic Lament

The pain/
of not hearing from u/
is exceeded only by fear/
there’s someone new/
and the knowledge that u/
decided we are through./
All combined,/
that makes me blue.

Analysis of a Kiss Bliss: A Romantic IMprov Poem

When you understand
that a woman
is, by design,
tender and refined,

you don’t feel the need
to rush in with speed;
to plunge headlong
with drooling, forceful tongue.

Instead, you rely
on the touch of a butterfly
landing lightly on a new flower:
Then she’s in your power.

When you can feel her breath
almost begging you: “Next!”
and can taste of her sweetness
as you hold her face in caress,

then
is when

you can feel, and give her,
anticipated bliss:
That gentle, tender,
yet passionate, kiss.

Men With Large … : A Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

I hope you sleep well,
friend, and dream of men with large
Vocabularies.

Flowing Words: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

Words like rivulets
flow out of my fingertips
or over my lips.

Jackson Browne From My Canoe: A Revolutionary ConTEXTing Poem

Jackson Browne/
came into town!/
In my canoe/
you can hear him, too!/
Although it’s late,/
don’t hesitate!/
Starts at . . . 7.

Dreidel Turnip Goy Toy at Seattle Art Museum: A SAM Revolutionary Haiku and Video

Dredyl top spinning.
Bent turnip or phallic root,
Twisting as Goys do

For more information on From Art Criticism to Poetry in Five Strokes, visit A.K. “Mimi” Allin’s blog at http://thepoetessatgreenlake.blogspot.com/2009/08/from-art-criticism-to-poetry-in-five.html

The Wine of the Proletariat: A Revolutionary IMprov Poem

She leaned back
having dined,
and whined
the wine
of the Proletariat.

“Clients!” said she
(somewhat mystically):
Can’t live with ’em;
Can’t pay the mortgage without ’em!”

“Amen!”
murmured her friends
as they again
laughed
and quaffed
the wine
of the Proletariat.

Reading Prose in a Mirror: Revolutionary Poetry

Reading prose in a mirror
is like reading mine, only clearer.
You’re a much tighter
writer.
I recognize everything you say, in me,
yet would have said it differently.
But I like the way
you articulate
what you have to say:
It’s great!
(Ok. That was fun.
Now I’m done.)