Grandmothers Always Care: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Her grandson stood clothed/
in holy robes. She stood and/
watched attentively.

Seeing Hidden Nature: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

I’m grateful for a/
Dad and Grandma who helped me/
see hidden nature.

A Chili’s Birthday: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Randomly singing/
“Happy Birthday” to unknown/
kids makes grandmas smile.

Hearing Grandma: Revolutionary Haiku

If I think about/
it, in my weakness*, I can/
hear her: “Oh, David!”
OR

*as I struggle,

Grandma’s Magic House: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

Her house is tiny./
With secret nooks for grandkids,/
it’s a magic place.

Grandma Goo: Romantic ConTEXTing Rhyming Haiku

I’m goo’d. She doesn’t/
know. Her trip photos show her/
love as a Grandma.

Cherry Pie Complaining Lesson: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

When I was young, my Grandma Bertha took the last piece of cherry pie, split it in half, and gave a piece to my sister and a piece to me. I examined the two pieces and loudly objected. “She has a bigger piece!”
Grandma quickly took my piece, said something like “I’m sorry you don’t like yours”, and ate it herself. I got nothing…except a lesson.

When I complain, I/
don’t get what i want. Truth? I/
get nothing at all.

Does Grandma have to hear? No!/ Letting go/ of an Oma/ in a Coma: A revolutionary conTEXTing poem

The context of this? A friend’s grandmother was lingering, dying but not willing to leave. I wrote my friend the following conTEXTing poem. When she wrote back “I thought she had to hear; she’s in a coma!” I responded with the story of MY grandmother’s death, where I was the only one with her. I whispered “Grandma, I love you. It’s okay to go now.'” And she passed away. I texted my friend as she watched over her grandmother: “It’s soul communication. Not loud. Love.”

Did you whisper/

softly to her:/

“Grandma, it’s okay to go/

We can take care/

of ourselves/

you know”./

But sometimes they dont/

know it’s ok,/

so they won’t/

go away.