Her Voice, Raised: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

In the end, it won’t/
matter if your voice was heard,/
just that it was raised.

(See her blog “Front Porch Sense”)

The Constancy Of Wild Geese: Revolutionary Email Free Verse Poetry

My family always
calls each other,
twice a year:
“The wild geese are flying!”

“I’ll be right there!”
We grab cups of coffee,
throw on layers,
and brisk walk to the lake.

Ice, black and mottled,
or silver and new,
covers the bays
and inlets,
but, somewhere,
waves are breaking through.
There is open water.

From far away,
carried on cold breezes
which sting our ears
and tear our eyes,
we hear the familiar call.

“HuhUUuh. HuhUUuh.”
We peer out over the lake,
up,
until we see them,
the familiar V
cutting through the wind.

And we laugh,
and jump up and down,
and wave,
and cry.

I’ve wondered why
it stirs us;
why we always
run to see them,
as certainly as they
always
fly.

Do they look for us,
standing on the shore,
waving,
watching,
calling,
crying?

Does the dip of their wings
as they land,
one after the other,
say to us
“Hello, old friends,
ground-bound.
Good to see you.
Thanks for the welcome.
Your clothes never match,
but they make us laugh!
HuuuUHH. HuuuUHH!”

Probably not.

But we can pretend.

Maybe we run
and listen
and search
and watch
because they remind us
of our place.

We join with them
in the great globe,
spinning,
circling,
returning again
and again
and again.

They take away
our winter fears.
Steel us against the
incoming!
cold,
or soar
our spirits
with promise
and hope
and upcoming
warmth.

As long as they fly,
life goes on
as it has,
as it will,
as it should.

We can
and will
continue
to spread our wings,
to fly,
to run,
to call,
to wave,
to cry,
to laugh,
to believe,
to know our place
in things,
as long as there is
the constancy
of wild geese.

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There Is No Room For Heavenly Peace: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poetic Lament

Cleaning house
in service
for those who can’t
or won’t,
I play an old tape.

Hell yeah!
It’s Mahalia
Jackson,
Sleep in Heavenly Peace.

I can’t contain
the torrent of tears
as I clean
even more earnestly
because that’s all I can do now.
Now that I’ve left.
Now that I’ve ripped
lives apart.

This used to be
my city,
my town,
my house,
my family,
my life.

This music brought joy
down the stairs.
I have tapes.
I have videos.

This used to be everything
I lived for.
But now,
I’m cleaning the living room,
and
there is no room.

Tears. No Words: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Two weeks ago he/
walked 18. Today they must/
let him go. No words.

Smiling In Church: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

I saw a couple/
smile at each other in church./
I can’t wait for that.

The Garden Of Life’s Constant: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Families change. kids grow/
and move. Gardens go to weed./
Fred’s the great constant.

Expectations? Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

That she let me share/
in her struggles was all I/
ever expected.

Power Is Powerless Without Your Family: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

With all the power/
we have, the point’s moot without/
our families with us.

Thankful Thanksgiving Eating: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Be thankful you can/
look at a Thanksgiving meal/
and eat thankfully.

Intense Family: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

You’re an example/
of how I should be intense/
with my own fam’ly.