What’s The Beach Draw? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

For years I’ve asked why/
women post pics of their bare/
feet in sand. Don’t know.

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But It IS Free! Revolutionary IMprov Rhyming Poem

It saddens me/
greatly/
that folks can’t see/
this mystery: /
Traveling is free.
Come with me.

Who Built This Cairn? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

When you find a cairn/
where you wanted to stack one,/
you ask: “Who built this?!?”

Why I’m A Mystery To Her: Romantic IMprov Haiku

I’m a mystery/
because she won’t talk to me/
about her feelings.

OR
I’m a mystery/
because she won’t talk to me/
about her questions.

Hesitant Poet Taking a Leap: Romantic IMprov Poem

He stood, /
hesitant, /
and wondered, would/
she be redecent, /
like others before/
to the beauty/
and mystery/
of his poetry?/
He wasn’t sure./

But because/
he, as a poet, never was/
sure of anything/
except hearing his heart sing,/
and writing it /
and verbalizing/
and not being ashamed of it,/
he let fly/
with words/
she’d often heard,/
but never in that sequence,/
nor had they ever made sense/
as they did that day/
when she heard him say:/
“It both frightens me/
and delightens me/
to create these words for you.”/

And he smiled,/
because he knew/
she was not beguiled,/
but was fully there, too.

Do I Trust Myself? A Revolutionary IMbic IMprov Poem

“Do you trust myself?”
She asked.
I laughed.
“In what regard?”

As in, you invite me
over to watch cinema:
comedy, chick flick, drama,
popcorned action, mystery?

That there would be
no butter smeared on that
velvet, gentle skin, as we sat,
and watched the movie.

The only thing low
I would dip into
and slip into
would be a bowl

of buttered
popcorn,
not porn,
or anything like it.

Kernels I would just eat
while I watch,
and butter touch
and brush off my seat.

Do I trust myself?
Whether watching a romantic chick flick,
or Elf,
I keep my emotions,
and buttered hands,
on the shelf.