Posts Tagged ‘creative’

How Creativity Dies: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

September 13, 2013

When you feel so sick/
you could die, your creative/
talents seem to leave.

A Creative’s Highest And Greatest Good: Revolutionary Email Sonnet

June 20, 2012

What is, as a creative,
my highest and greatest good?
Is it to feed the impoverished natives?
Or make their plight understood?

Or is it to elevate
the souls of men
with turns of phrases I create
which no one else will or can?

To lift, to raise ever higher
their feelings, joy and rapture?
To enlighten, move to action, and inspire
by seeing and saying what most can’t capture?

Isn’t this the creative’s highest call?
To observe and reveal grand visions to all?

Stupidity Creativity: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

December 21, 2011

Creativity/
sometimes brings huge amounts of /
great stupidity.

On the Death of a Friend’s Brother, Part Two: Revolutionary Blogging Stream-of-Consciousness Poetry

December 11, 2011

The last poem was about me
and you.
This one won’t be.

You’re gone.
It’s a sad surprise
this Christmas season.
Your love,
laughter,
energetic soul,
and brotherly caring
will leave a void
in my friend’s heart.

It makes me weep.

But I cry easily.
Even now, words
are blurred
on the page.

But she, my friend,
never cries.
She is a rock.
She puts up walls.
She takes care of others.
She takes care of business.
She is stoic,
a white with few emotions shown.

No one can ever see
how she feels,
how she hurts.
She shrugges
and trugges
on.

But you always made her laugh.
Always made her smile.
Always filled her heart with
tender joy when no one else could.

Her home walls
are mostly empty,
except for photos of
her family,
and the art
you created
and gave her.

Her eyes,
always bright,
would sparkle and shine
even more,
when she talked
about you,
your creativity,
your capacity
for caring.

“My brother” she’d start,
with a big smile:
“He is different,
but so creative.
I love him so much.”

Some of her best stories
start with:
“One time,
my brother and I … ”

And now you’re gone,
and, for the first time ever,
I heard her weep
in pain,
in sadness,
in soulful sorrow,
in loss.

She must be hurting
more than I’ll ever know.
I do understand
how much she loved you.

You will be missed.
And what will she do
with the homemade Christmas gift
she made you?

Sleep well,
creative prince.
Sleep deep,
while we,
left behind,
in emptiness weep.

Come What May Surrendering: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

August 9, 2011

Surrendering to/
“come what may” means nothing much/
creative appears

Creative Constipation: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

July 1, 2011

There’s so many poems /
to write this morning, but I/
must use the bathroom.

Poem Number 1700- The Subject: Revolutionary IMprov Poetry

May 8, 2011

Two years ago,
in a funky,
garden-based;
coffee shop,
you listened,
looked deep
at me,
and said:
“Never again
say
“I think
I am
a poet”.

You are.
Accept
and share
your gift.”

Do you remember?
I do.

Since then,
I’ve believed you.

It is late.
The thumbnail moon
is setting
into the waters
of a central Wisconsin lake,
“Winneconne”,
“Gathering of the Waters”.

My words
have gathered
20000 views.

Sunrise.
Moonrise.
Sunset.
Moonset.
But stars
and night,
and light
and day
stay
eternal
as words.

And you,
mentor,
teacher,
guide,
are the subject
of poem number
1700.

The creative
inspired
in me
honors
the creative
inspiration
from you.

Thank you.

What I Can Give: Romantic ConTEXTing Poem

May 6, 2011

As an intellect,/
I can discuss more./
As a romantic,/
I can flirt more./
As a creative,/
I can compose more./
As a friend,/
I can hug more./

Do you want a hug?