Stop Administering Pain: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

As I think of the/
Widow’s pain, I learn all ache,/
And vow to give none.

Old Crush: Romantic IMprov Haiku

Does she know I had/
a crush on her? With each pain/
she feels, I now ache.

Feeling Bad At Dinner Time: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku Lament

Am I the only/
man who drowns his sorrows in/
root beer and cheddar?

Love Versue Ache: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku Lament

I’ve discovered I/
do not know how to love. I/
just know how to ache.

Suspending Disbelief, Because Maybe We All Hurt: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Response Poetry

A friend forwarded this video poem to me: http://youtu.be/ltun92DfnPY
and said it brought back painful childhood memories.
This is my response, not so much to the poem, as to her pain:
——-
She,
a cheerleader beauty,
now loved mother/Nana,
saw a poem about
a Fatboy ,
an ugly girl,
a popper,
and she claimed
it brought back pains
and bad
and sad
childhood memories.

As I listened,
I doubted,
and wondered,
and thought “Nobody ever called her
pizza face
or melon head
or pork chop
or chicken legs
or dogface”.

And she never had anyone
she loved
and trusted tell her:
“I love you as my child,
but
i hate you as a person.”
Or
“How can God love you?
You are so evil.”

But then I realized:
How would I know?
Can I deny her pain?
No.
Can I feel
her heart?
Or read
her soul
that may,
to this day,
ache?
No.

With her memories,
she
made me
realize this truth:
I don’t know the burden
or the ache
or the lonely
that’s hidden
inside of any
one.

But if it sucks as bad
as mine did,
and sometimes
still does;
if it rips them apart
and bares them open
as much as mine did
and, too often,
still does,
let me promise
here and now
with all my being
and heart
and soul,
with tears flowing,
and empathy growing,
that I will NEVER assume
that someone was
or is
without pain
in their lives,
and I will NEVER be
the reason
to add
to that ache.

Instead,
please, God,
help me
to be the eraser,
to remove some of that internal,
eternal
ache
and bring some joy
into their lives.

Because I don’t know.
I really don’t know.
I just don’t know.

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Who Was I Listening To? Revolutionary Poetic Lament

You tell me how you ache.
I listen.
You talk of your children’s woes.
I listen.
You relate concerns about grandkids.
I listen.
You worry about work.
I listen.
You speak worries about finances.
I listen.
You gripe about how your car is falling apart.
I listen.
You complain about medical conditions.
I listen.
You worry about your parents.
I listen.
You ponder how to help your siblings.
I listen.

I listen because I care.
I listen because I want to support you.
I listen because, sometimes, it’s all you let me do,
(and even when I listen, you worry aloud that you’re
dumping and whining too much.)
I listen, still,
and I tell you it’s okay.

Now you tell me
that I don’t listen to you?
That I’m only talking about me?

IF I’m not listening to YOU,
who are you talking to?
And who do I hear when
I listen.

His Best Refuge When She Didn’t Care: Romantic ConTEXTing Poetic Lament

He’d never understood
Why she
Knowing him,
Liking him,
Desiring him,
Would dangle him,
taunt him,
Tempt him,
And leave him,
Day after day,
Hour by hour
Wanting more.

One word
Responses.
No insight.
No sharing.
No understanding.

He knew she
Was often
Tired;
Busy;
In pain.

He’d seen her through
Those body-wracking torments,
As well as emotional
Worries
And discomforts.

Yet when his heart ached
And his soul cried
And his heart yearned,
his only refuge
Seemed to be
As it always was:
In silent,
dark,
Conversations
With the Infinite
For forever.

What If? Romantic Email Poetic Lament

What if… ?

What if,

no matter what,

I can’t stand

the thought

of being without you

again?

 

What if,

no matter what,

I can’t bear

the loneliness

in my heart?

 

What if,

despite everything,

I can’t take

the emptiness

in my arms?

 

What if,

despite your reasoning,

I’d do anything

to see you again

sooner

rather than later?

 

What if

we could make it

happen?

 

What if …?

Replacing Warmth With Emptyness: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku Lament

Instead of warmth, there’s /
now just an empty, dull ache/
and pain in my heart.https://cyranowriter.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post-new.php?post_type=post#

OR

Instead of warmth, chill./
There’s just an empty, dull ache/
and pain in my heart.

How Can You? Romantic IMprov Poetry

How can you make me laugh
in the midst of romance?

How can you take the cold, clammy fear
in my hands, feet and forehead,
and turn it into emotions flaming up
from deep in my heart?

How can you take my tears of pain
and, in a few words,
make me weep with joy and relief?

How can you make me miss you so?

How can you hold me
and rock me gently to sleep
with just a few typed or spoken words?

How can you, with the skill of a cardiac surgeon,
open up my chest
and expose all my innermost hopes,
dreams and feelings…
without hurting or scaring or bruising my heart?

How can you, when my heart aches
and when butterflies dance nervously in my stomach,
reach across the hills, lakes and rivers
and apply soothing balm,
calming the butterflies
and soothing the aches?

How can you make my brain remember
every nuance of your scent,
every wisp of your hair,
every touch of your hand,
the feel of your skin,
your curves,
your breath?

How can you do that?

Frag’ nicht warum.
Sei einfach froh,
daB es ist so.