Mother Speaks, Right? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

I ask Mom: “How does /
it feel to be always right?”/
She: “I’m used to it.”

My Permanent Muse: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

How feels it to know,/
even in silence, that you’re/
a permanent muse?

Or
How does it feel to/
know that you’re a permanent/
muse, e’en in silence?

When My Muse Dies: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

Miss(ed) Muse: How does it/
feel to know you (Di)ed and left,/
Leaving me alone?

How Does It Feel … Again: 2 Romantic Email Sonnets

How Does It Feel? – A Sonnet. 1:46 p.m.
How does it feel
To go through a day
With no emotions revealed?
No poetry sent your way?

No heart on my sleeve,
No feelings in the flow?
No mistakes to grieve;
Just letting life go?

What would you think
If I stopped taking your time?
If I stepped away from the brink;
ceased sending you rhymes?

Who am I trying to kid?
After all, I just did!

How Does It Feel … Again? – A Follow-on Sonnet. 3:57 p.m.
How does it feel to be
The object of attention?
The one in dreams he seeks?
His mental intervention?

The one who makes lyrics
Pour from his soul?
The one who lets him hear it
Without losing control.

Does such a woman become
crassly objectified
when a man writes down
what he feels inside?

Or is she glad the man lets the world peruse
the inspiration that flows from his muse?