Archive for the ‘Revolutionary ImproVerse Poetry’ Category

Service Project Hypocrite: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

June 24, 2017

When I advocate/
for service projects but then/
I don’t show up? Fail.

Good Workout Results: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse

June 20, 2017

I,
just now,
easily fit
into a waist size 36
pair of Levi 501 jeans
my son last wore
in the summer
of 2011.
(I know
because the Harry Potter ticket
was still in the front pocket).

I guess working
at cleaning house
and doing 10-plus hours
of yard work a day
and drinking
a lot of water
and worrying
really does pay off!

I haven’t fit in size 38 501s
for nearly a decade!

Old Men Serving With New Tractors: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

June 19, 2017

I love having old/
men home teachers*. They serve with/
riding lawn mowers.

OR
*ministers. Home Teacher serving on riding lawnmower

Great Introduction Line: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku Funny

June 19, 2017

I’m interesting./
I’m available. I must/
get my meds. Now what?!?

A Thing For Trains: Revolutionary ImproVerse Rhyming Poem

June 19, 2017

Why
do I
stand outside
and wave
at passing trains?

It’s what Dave
did
as a kid.
Why
should I
change?

Barefoot Desert Dancing Beach Boy: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

June 19, 2017

MDancing barefoot in the desert on SoDa Row to a Beach Boys tribute band June 2017y feet are cracked. Pain./
It’s what you get from dancing/
Barefoot in deserts.

Not Complaining About This Father’s Day: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

June 18, 2017

Barbecue, baseball, /
deep discussions. It became/
a good Father’s Day.

Hard Working Sabbath Servants: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

June 18, 2017

When you are the Lord’s/
servants, it is good to work/
and serve on Sunday.
Mormon Missionaries painting a neighbor's fence on Sunday

Father’s Day Silence, 2017: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku Lament

June 18, 2017

So many people
tell me I’m a great dad. If
only my kids would.

Childless Father’s Day Redux: Revolutionary ImproVerse Rhyming Poetic Lament

June 18, 2017

Mere minutes away,
but they’ve got no money.
Don’t our children know
that their dads would mow
their lawn, take out the garbage,
or clean their garage,
to be with their children on Father’s Day?

Anything beats sitting at home
all alone,
staring at the phone,
waiting for their call.
Trying not to bawl
or feel dumb
When the message doesn’t come.
Feeling sad,
I wonder: “How bad
was I as a dad?”