Already I’m So Lonesome, Alone Again, Naturally: Revolutionary Blogging Whining Lament Free Verse Poem

Alone again.
Or is it alone,
still.
I know I should be independent,
and yet
I honestly
don’t want to be
totally.

We all have busy lives,
and we all need to respect
and give space
to others
we care for
and about.

Yes, and,
I guess I need
to learn how
to do that.

The reality is
I haven’t yet.
I expect those
I care about
to care about
the same things
I care about;
to be interested
in the same things
I’m interested in,
even if the timing
is not right.

I suppose
that’s selfish
of me.
I just had
different expectations.

And now I have to learn
to deal
with those dashed dreams
and expectations.

The expectations
that everything we did
or everything that one of us
wanted to do
would be
something that
we both wanted
to do.

But that’s not
the way it is.
The real bet is
that there’s just
not always the interest.

That we don’t
always want to walk
that yellow brick road
dressed like Buddy Holly.
(Oooh, oooh!)

I didn’t have time
before
to turn and
face the strange.
But now,
with these ch ch ch changes
I’m goin’ through,
even though things are
gonna get done,
even though there will always be
someone like her
even though the thrift shop trips
may be more efficient,
I don’t want
blue to be my color.

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What Dreams May Be: Romantic IMprov Couplet

You’re the dreams
I didn’t know I had.

Twere It Me: Romantic IMprov Rhyming Haiku

I see her deep pain./
I know how I would have been./
I’ll help grow her heart.

Broken Heart Silence: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament

When your heart truly/
is breaking, you can’t really/
write about it much.

To Be So Caring It Randomly Hurts: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

It’s hard for me to/
fathom why my heart hurts for/
one I don’t know well.*

OR
*someone I just met.

AND
Why/
do I/
empathize?/
Is that a surprise?/
Or just me/
and charity?

Selfless Paridise Pity Party: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament

I won’t ruin their /
paradise by telling her/
about my heart ache.

Exposing The Truth Of Myself: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku

He ripped open his/
heart and exposed his soul. The/
next morn he just ached.
OR
I ripped open my/
heart and exposed my soul. The/
next morn I just ache.

He Painted Where HE Lived: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

Hearing of someone’s/
birth of faith brings joyful tears/
and a gladdened heart.

Couple In Church — (I’m Jealous!) : Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku Lament

Each touch of her hand/
on her man’s back rips like knives/
thru my jealous* heart.

OR
*lonely

Pixels Of Light, Words On A Page: Romantic Blogging Iambic Poetic Lament

I stand
as a man,
and expose
my soul
and my head
with dread,
and my heart.
Women want to see other parts:

The plump
gut or rump,
the face wrinkles,
the sprinkles
of grey
I won’t wash away.
For until we’ve met in person,
I’m a pixels of light version.
I could be real,
like what I feel,
or just a joke
made with mirrors and smoke.

I write words
some deep, some absurd
that say who I am,
and she’ll listen
and, if in tune,
she might swoon
and think me great,
and can not wait.
To greet me.
She feels romantically
inclined;
thinks I might be divine,
and just right.
But it requires sight.
We can’t be complete
until we at last meet.

I’m just paint on her palette;
a sculptor’s chisel and mallet
laying still and unused.
And she’s just my dreamed Muse.

I park
my car,
stand up, and from afar,
She sees no spark.
She feels no fun.
We’re done.
Over. Finito. Finished.
Visions once so delish
are now just pixels of light
that failed to ignite.

Words on a page
which once engaged
her mind, heart and soul,
no longer glow,
but now vanish,
and the mist
of possibility
ceases to be.

(Except, guess what?
It could be “Or Not!”)