Posts Tagged ‘Facebook’

Why Ask What? Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

January 7, 2015

Why does Facebook ask:/
“What’s on your mind?” for “Status”?/
Shouldn’t it ask “Who”?

Wit To Wit Quit: Revolutionary IMprov Limerick

December 9, 2014

You have proclaimed it:
We can stand, wit to wit.
But now, see my postings erased.
Such pained bantering is not my taste.
I apologize … and quit.

Facebook Is Mars Hill: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

October 4, 2014

I’ve been Facebooking /
long enough, discussing some/
new thing. It’s Mars Hill.

Predestination “The One” Soulmate: Romantic IMprov Haiku

September 24, 2014

The concept of “I’ve/
seen that face before” doesn’t/
count if it’s Facebook.

Go Live Life: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

May 10, 2014

I’m tired of Facebook/
memes telling me to live life/
large. That’s what I do.
OR
I’m getting tired of/
Facebook telling me I should/
live life large. I am.

What If I Don’t: Revolutionary Blogging Haiku

May 5, 2014

If I don’t re-post/
some tripe I think is silly,/
I’m chicken or dumb?

My Facebook Addiction [Don’t Like] : Revolutionary Email Haiku

April 6, 2014

Facebook can be a/
virtual reality/
addiction. Must … stop ….
OR
I “don’t like” Facebook’s/
virtual reality/
addiction. Must … stop ….

Questions About A Bag Of Celery: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

March 26, 2014

Facebook posting as art: Celery Sticks = Andy Warhol?I look at Facebook /
postings like art. Sometimes I /
must just ask: What!?!?!? Why?!?!

How Am I? Call Me: Romantic IMprov Haiku

February 20, 2014

I thought we were past/
being just Facebook friends. She/
has my phone number.

Enduring Our Wait: Revolutionary IMprov Poetic Lament

December 17, 2013

Late at night,
I see my green-orb’d friend.
She’s Facebook connected,
in a hospital,
waiting
for a daughter
to die.

Brain infused,
so young,
she was disconnected
this afternoon,
but still struggles through,
and makes my friend
wait
for the end.
Green glowing Facebook Instant Message orb
As I see the green orb,
“mobile”,
I recall
how I’m waiting.

My daughter,
too,
brain diffused,
rushes onward
towards death.

Her time is less certain.
The inevitability,
less set.
I have some hope.
Though not much,
“There is always hope!”

And so my friend
and I
are connected
by death,
certain and uncertain;
by prayers,
faithful
— the only life support
we can offer —
and hopeless;
by love,
our hearts given
to our children;
and by a small
green
glowing
orb.