Tears From Rose Kiss: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Listening in this
setting to “Kiss From A Rose”
moves me to glad tears.

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Sitting In My Car In The Rain: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

I should go in, but /
the greatest rock ‘n roll song/
ever is playing

Friends’ Charity: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

When you spend your day/
helping friends feel better, then/
that’s charity, too.

Living Out Loud Silence: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

Living life out loud/
means you may discover that/
no one’s listening.

Listening: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

You’re not paying me/
anything to listen and/
yet you know I will.

Rockin’ The Sabbath Spirit: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Strange how list’ning to/
Nirvana doesn’t put me/
in a Sabbath mood.

OR
… Nirvana doesn’t give me/
a Sabbath spirit.

Do You Hear Me?: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

How much would joy be/
increased if women said what/
they meant, and men heard?

Who’s Not Listening? Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

I can’t convince you/
that I’m listening, heartfelt,/
to you when you’re not.

Who Was I Listening To? Revolutionary Poetic Lament

You tell me how you ache.
I listen.
You talk of your children’s woes.
I listen.
You relate concerns about grandkids.
I listen.
You worry about work.
I listen.
You speak worries about finances.
I listen.
You gripe about how your car is falling apart.
I listen.
You complain about medical conditions.
I listen.
You worry about your parents.
I listen.
You ponder how to help your siblings.
I listen.

I listen because I care.
I listen because I want to support you.
I listen because, sometimes, it’s all you let me do,
(and even when I listen, you worry aloud that you’re
dumping and whining too much.)
I listen, still,
and I tell you it’s okay.

Now you tell me
that I don’t listen to you?
That I’m only talking about me?

IF I’m not listening to YOU,
who are you talking to?
And who do I hear when
I listen.

You Contemplating The Rain And You: Romantic Email Sonnet

It’s not strange
to stay up late
listening to the rain
splash on window grates.

To fondly gaze
at phone photos of you
and feel the haze
of the magic that you do.

To relax by sitting alone,
to meditate;
to stare at a phone
and contemplate.

Will you think it weird if I call?
No! It’s not absurd at all.