Not Missing The Wolf Super Moon Lunar Eclipse: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

How do you wake up/
your wife to view the Wolf Moon/
eclipse? Howl loudly.

Dateline: Rexburg, ID, Center of Totality. Where is Everyone? Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

Remember that time/
God held a solar eclipse/
And no one showed up?

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Ironic — No Eclipse For Craters Of The Moon Lament: Revolutionary Blogging Haiku

Craters of the Moon /
Park lies outside the Eclipse/
path. How ironic.

To Beauties Watching A Moonrise: Romantic IMprov Haiku

I shall refrain from/
quoting what Shakespeare once wrote:/
Smite that jealous Moon.

Embrace A Strange Place: Revolutionary ImproVerse Prose

A friend was going to a Polynesian island with a man she barely knew and his family. She said “I’m a bit afraid. I’m going to be surrounded by strangers, in a foreign country, with a man I don’t know.”
Since she is from Oklahoma, I reminded her what that state’s native son, Will Rogers, said: “A stranger is just a friend I haven’t met yet.”
Then I said:
“When you get to the country, that new place, go, go out onto the beach, or in the woods, or a garden, or even on your balcony. Stand and face the rising or the setting sun, or the stars, or the moon, or the cloudy sky. Face the heavens.
Put your bare feet apart slightly wider than your shoulders. If you’re on the beach, put your feet in the sand, right where the waves spend their last bit of energy, where the seafoam and the wet sand moves beneath your toes and embraces your feet.
Tilt your head back to find the sun or the light or the sky. Feel the air. Close your eyes.
Raise both your arms out sideways, hands toward the light and sky, palms out, fingers spread wide, hands slightly higher than your shoulders, as though you were giving an old friend a huge hug. Breathe deep, in through your mouth and nose, deeply, and feel the vibe, the flow, of the place you are in. Connect, deeply. Open your mouth and OMMMM or YAWP or vocalize in the harmonic you feel.
As you feel the air, the wind, sense the scents, maybe wrap your arms gently but firmly around the Spirit you feel, cradle it, embrace it.
There is a certain spirit, harmonic, note in each place. Each place on earth has a unique feel, a special, sacred note. Just as a musical note sounds different played by trombone, piano, organ, clarinet or harmonica, so is the earth’s song the same, yet different in each place.
You can be jarred by it, because it doesn’t feel like where YOU are from, but if you reach out and embrace it, hear it feel it touch it, introduce yourself to it, and be introduced to it, you will connect with it. When you do, that foreign country, that new place, will become part of you, and you will become part of it. You will not be a stranger in a strange land, but an honored and welcome friend the land hadn’t met yet.
And you’ll understand why the natives are smiling.”

Thumbnail Moon Future Hope Memories: Romantic Email Sonnet

A thumbnail moon,
End of the year
Start of something new,
But no anxiousness or fear.

Vague shadowed memories
of thin lunars past.
Returned thoughts of lovelies
Who faded much too fast.

To the ones I let
Give my heart pain:
I’ll remember to forget
to dream of them again.

Instead this year I’ll focus on reality
And grasp the full truths and beauties before me.

Hie Top Down To Kolob: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

When you hie, top down,/
to Kolob, God lets you reach/
and grab the full moon.

Fingernail Moon Flip-Off: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

Tonight’s fingernail /
moon may as well be a big/
middle finger flip.

A Sonnet To White House Burgers: Revolutionary Email Sonnet

Some thought them lowly burgers,/
but the company they kept/
elevated these patties much higher/
than any cow had ever lept.

Over the moon they flew,/
then back upon dinner plates./
Cheeses! Cheddar, Swiss or bleu!/
Seasoned to the taste.

The decor is historic/
in this intimate dining pub./
Yet at this lake aire White House/
the food is never called “grub”.

Whether in garden room, bar, or dining nook/
this cuisine gives a break you’ll be glad you took.*
OR
*this cuisine deserves a closer look.

Why A Pink Full Moon? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

We were waiting for/
the “pink” full moon. Who named it/
such a thing, and why?
#LakeWinneconne #PinkFullMoon #Bonfire #Storytelling