No Horse In The Desert, She: Romantic IMprov Free Verse Poem

In a desert,
some guy —
I don’t remember his name —
was singing
about a horse
in a desert.

We danced in the desert,
but no equine, she.
So I watched
and saw
what she
and others
could not:

Her luscious pink lips,
parted slightly in a smile,
the gentle curve of her body
as it swayed to and fro
to the music
while her hair,
waved back and forth
as though a blonde mane
caught in a mid-summer’s desert
not sirocco
evening breeze.

The sparkle and laughter of her eyes
as they caught
and reflected
and augmented
the spotlights.

The brilliance of her smile
exposed,
as she laughed with youthful glee,
recalling perhaps
those teenage years
when she first danced
in mid-America
to that song.

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Where Would The Ruby-ed Shoe-bied Teacher Go? Revolutionary Improv Rhyming Poem

The blonde teacher/
crossed and uncrossed/
her ankles slow /
and lo!/
I watched her toes/
flow/
back-and-forth and to-and-fro/
and so/
I wondered where she would go/
if she clicked together, in the front row,/
her ruby slippers? I-O/
wa? Idaho?
I don’t know.

Maybe Someday Hope: Romantic Improv Haiku

Maybe someday you’ll/
hope and wish for something so/
deep you can’t not care.

Live Improv Poetry Problem: Revolutionary Blogging Haiku

About live po’try:
When you perform improv poems,
nothing gets written.

OR

About improv poems:
When you perform live po’try,
nothing’s written down.

A Redhead Asks: Can You Cook? A Romantic IMprov Sonnet

My ability to cook depends on which room I’m in.
Four burners? Or a king, queen, or twin?
A twin is like stir fry: quick, steamy and hot;
King or queen like slow basted barbeque, simmering, not

rapidly slammed down,
nor overly steamy;
but tender, warm, comfortable,
tasty and dreamy.

So, in the end,
you have to decide
what type of meal
down your palate will glide!

What enjoyment you’ll feel;
which temperment you’ll reveal.