Silly Me (Again) Poetry For A Lady In Red: Romantic ImproVerse Free Verse

To the lady in red,
I would have said
she looked pretty,
but it’s been told to me
That my unrequited
unrequested
poetry
is quite silly,

so I didn’t.

Vacationing Couple Not Engaged Jealousy: Romantic ImproVerse Free Verse Lament

Where had they been,
this connected couple
with vacation luggage
on the train?

What intimate moments
had they shared?
would it continue
now they’d landed
and were on the final leg
toward home?

She looked longingly
at him,
but he was buried
in his electronic device,
reading messages and posts
from those he barely knew.

Yearning for him,
she softly,
gently,
unbuttoned her raincoat,
revealing her
feminine,
pink,
softly-covered
iPad.

She turned it on.

Only then
did he look
in her direction,
not at her sweet face,
her tender hands,
her golden hair,
her luscious lips,
her deep self that had been his.

He glanced,
instead,
at her
flickering screen,
wondering not
what she thought,
(For his ears were plugged)
but what she was looking at.

Satisfied,
he turned back
inside himself.

Jealous,
I wanted to slap him!
“Come on, man!!!”
I thought.

But instead,
I gazed out her window
until I caught her eye.
Then I passed her
a small, sad smile,
as if to say
“I’m sorry.”

If only.

I’m Open To Work: Revolutionary IMprov Free Verse

My arms
And ears
And heart
Are open.

If yours are, too,
Then let’s meet,
And love,
And work together.

But if all you do
Is rage
And scream
“What the F*!K!”
And
“You’re a [insert name-calling phrase here] idiot!”
because of my vote,
I won’t know how we
can best work together
To change the world.

Light Up The House Of The Lord: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku and Free Verse Poetry

When the House of the Lord/
is in full operation,/
they turn on all the lights.
OR
When the Lord’s House is/
fully operational,/
all the lights are lit.

Unexpected Blue Collared Temple Trip: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

It came as a surprise
as I travelled
to the City of
Brotherly Love:
A new edifice,
a symbol of The Lord’s Love
for His Children,
was reared since
I was here last,
eating Pat’sGino’s Cheesesteaks
with my eternal children.

Apostles and Prophets
made it sacred ground,
His House,
just before I landed.

I was shocked.
Somehow I’d missed
the Announcement
of yet another outpost,
another tower
on the wall.

Me, unkempt,
post 9 hour day
in the City’s office,
business casual
with a backpack and an
blue-collared
no tie shirt,
I decided to go.

I wept as I entered,
the first through
the Temple’s East Gate,
unlocked just for me.

I had no suit and tie,
no reservation
as others had.
But I was ready to work.

So I went first,
no cash, to get
the appropriate clothes.
Was mine the first credit card used there?
Probably.
I wept.

I went,
initially,
where new workers
stumbled
over sacred words.
I was kind,
rejoicing in their service,
thanking them,
weeping at their kindness
and humility.

I knelt,
as a son,
with backwards clothing
(until a mom fixed it),
gazing into eternal mirrors,
working,
painfully,
putting sons together
with Ma and Pa,
Priesthood flowing,
restored
to its current state
near a river
flowing in this same state,
hoping my sons and daughters
will someday join me,
and wept again,
and thanked those who serve,
and served
at the Mountain of the Lord’s House.

Robed,
I sat,
still,
probably one of the first,
in the sacred Celestial Room,
woodwork wrought like
revolutionary craftsmen.

There,
I pondered the sacrifices
of the Lord,
and of Patriots:
They who declared Independence,
in a Hall not far away,
from tyranny,
and He who proclaimed freedom
from sin
and death
on a hill far away.

I felt certain
they were there
in their city,
honored to be witnesses
to what their Patriotism
and love
had bought and,
at last,
brought.

I wept,
and walked,
and thought of my Italian
and Jewish
and Park friends
who had probably never dreamed
of this day.

But here it stood.
And here I stood.

I wasn’t ready,
but I prepared,
and I was worthy.
So I went
and wept,
and rejoiced
at a symbol of His love
in this city known
for love.

Surprise And Joy At A Fireside: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Free Verse

How oft/
have we gathered,/
’tis eventide,/
to listen to calm,/
soothing/
music,/
followed by/
pulpit thunder.

What a great surprise/
and fun joy/
to expect deeply spiritual
teaching,
but first
get Broadway show tunes
and ragtime
from the pulpit instead.

Some wouldn’t applaud.
(It’s the chapel, you know!)
But those
in the know
held up Fosse Fingers
and waved Jazz Hands.

The Illusion Of A Peaceful Lakefront, 8:15 a.m.: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

Birds chirp/warble/call/sing,
greeting the early morning sun.

Waves lap
or crash
or gurgle
on the rocky shoreline,
their symphony
depending on the weather.
Leaves rustle.

I strain
to hear
the buzz of bees
and bugs
and hummingbirds
pollinating.

The serenity
of lakeside living
is an illusion.

All those nature sounds
we should hear
are too often overrun
by the cacophonic crashing
of choking chords
from lawn mowers
and weed whackers
and generators
and compressors
and leaf blowers
and pressure washers.

An Unknown American Hero: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

Eighty carrier landings.
Thousands of hours of training.
Ready to deliver mushroom
clouds
if ordered.
While his friends died practicing.
He kept going.
He sacrificed.
Time.
Practice.
Patience.
Practice.
Exactness.
Practice.
Thinking.
Practice.
And more practice.
Ready
because of practice.
Willing
because of devotion.
Able
because of practice
and devotion.

Nothing happened
during those years.
Our country
never was attached.
Never saw mushrooms bloom.
Never felt the ravages of war.
Maybe because he was there?

I’ve known him
for decades,
father of friends,
born during his service,
but until today
I never knew he was
and is
an American hero.

I walked next to him,
today,
head down,
not wanted to take his deserved glory;
watched as hundreds applauded,
waved flags,
shook his hand,
said, earnestly,
“THANK YOU!”

After decades
I am able to recognize,
and salute
and say,
from my heart,
as I have so often to others:
“Thank you for your service”.

?

?

?

Use A Canoe To Recover From Dumping: Romantic ConTEXTing Free Verse Poem

Red-winged blackbirds sing in a Wisconsin marsh — YouTube Video

When you’ve been/
dumped,/
take your canoe/
up a creek/
without a partner./

Still,/
alone,/
listen to /
red-winged blackbird/
couples/
sing together/
as they watch,/
and feather their nests,/
and call sweet dreams/
to the sunset.

Sliding Glass Door Requiem: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Lament

Oh, goldfinch!
Bright yellow cheer-bringer,
Flash of color
even in winter’s darkest days.

Too late I moved toward
The sliding glass door
Where you would have seen my shadow
And veered away.

Instead:
Thunk.
“Oh no nonono!”
I cry
and reach for you,
fallen,
as your glowing tail feathers
fan out wide
in a blaze of color,
then close as tight
as your dainty feet,
curled.

You are still warm
as I hold you,
tiny,
in the palm of my hand.

Tears well up
as I wait,
hoping.

But your eyes stay open,
fixed and dilated,
and even as I hold you,
admiring your bright gold feathers
and the tiny streaks of red on your breast
that I’ve never noticed before,
you grow cold in my hand.

I place you
tenderly,
at the base of the daffodils
which mimic your radiant glory,
but which,
like you,
are starting to fade away.