Posts Tagged ‘ImproVerse poem’

6:05 a.m. Northbound Utah Lake Shore Blindness: Revolutionary ImproVerse Rhyming Poem Lament

January 19, 2017

I know there’s a view,/
distantly,/
I’m striving to see,
but I’m blinded by actions
and distractions
and lights reflecting
close by me.

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Super Bowl Sunday Home Field Advantage: Revolutionary ImproVerse Iambic Poem

February 1, 2015

Phoenix desert cropped with palm tree _ Feb 2015The cold and rain gives way/
to early morning fog and mist./
The Arizona desert in Phoenix/
is not supposed to be like this./

I’ll always revel in something different.

What A Badger Trucker! Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

December 17, 2014

I saw a Badger trucker/
rolling north /
through the snowcapped mountains.

Top down,
I pointed to my “G for Greatness” /
Packer bumper sticker, /
and flashed him a “W”
Wisconsin sign.

With his mighty horn,
he blasted “On, Wisconsin!”
Two Cheeseheads,/
on the freeway,/
connected./

I hope /
he knows /
he made my morning 🙂

There Is No Room For Heavenly Peace: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poetic Lament

December 8, 2014

Cleaning house
in service
for those who can’t
or won’t,
I play an old tape.

Hell yeah!
It’s Mahalia
Jackson
,
Sleep in Heavenly Peace.

I can’t contain
the torrent of tears
as I clean
even more earnestly
because that’s all I can do now.
Now that I’ve left.
Now that I’ve ripped
lives apart.

This used to be
my city,
my town,
my house,
my family,
my life.

This music brought joy
down the stairs.
I have tapes.
I have videos.

This used to be everything
I lived for.
But now,
I’m cleaning the living room,
and
there is no room.

On Being Creative: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

September 14, 2014

“Experts” say: /
“Be creative with a purpose.”/
What if being creative/
IS/
The Purpose?

Today Is The Last Time: Revolutionary ImproVerse Poem

May 18, 2014

It has been a long time
since the last time.
I’ve done time,
locked up spiritually for a time.

This Sunday is the time
that it will be my time,
as they have for a long time,
that the emblems pass me by for the last time.

Because next Sunday is the time
that, when it’s Sacrament time,
it will finally be the time
I’ll partake and remember His time.

I’ll weep at that time
and look forward to the time
that we’ll spend time
together for all time.

It’s not quite done this time.
But next time,
It is finished.

Fearing Her Return: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

January 7, 2014

She is no longer
the daughter
of the town drunk.

She is the girl
who left,
grew up,
became a woman,
found the truth,
made something of herself,
raised great children,
and lived a life
full of good deeds
and accomplishments.

She just has to learn those truths
and let go.

She’s already let God.

Sexuality Reality Free: Revolutionary Rhyming ImproVerse Poem

November 21, 2013

When the reality/
that I don’t* worry/
about my sexuality/
finally/
hit me,/
I became free.
OR

*shouldn’t

Wishing You Were Here: Romantic ImproVerse Poetic Lament

October 28, 2013

At the Piggly Wiggly/
in Winneconne, Wisconsin,/
Chicago’s “Wishin’ You Were Here”/
plays./
How did they know?

Xanadu Revisited With Codeine: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

September 17, 2013

I lay,
room spinning,
throat choking me,
wondering what was reality
and what was dreamscape
fantasy.

I wondered if I’d become as Coleridge,
if I should take up my pen and write and write and write
of things seen in fantasy vision,
of women danced with and light cotton gauze summer dresses,
of time lost in a solitary tick of the clock,
seeming to go on forever and yet being a moment.

Or was it longer?

And as the codeine cough syrup flowed through my veins,
I felt myself elevating above the bed and spinning and turning and collapsing again down,
and wondering if I would never rise again.

But determined to rise I was.
Determined not to die and be found by my mother,
wide open I’d died,
smelly rising of flesh
when she’d come in the morning,
but instead,
sitting up,
swinging my feet down
so they once again touched solid ground,
and did not dance in the air.

I determined to find me there in the morning,
codeine free,
empty,
and willing to deeply drink not drought
but the draughts of
Springville springwater.

If this seems foolish to some,
so probably seemed Xanadu foolish then.

And will someone knock on my door?