Holding The Phone Too Long: Romantic ConTEXTing Rhyming Haiku

She thot it dumb when/
her hand went uncomfortably/
numb. I thot it sweet.

Too Old For Volleyball? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

After hours of hard /
volleyball, I’ve become quite/
uncomfortably numb.

Other Comfortably Numb: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

“Comfortably Numb” is/
not just drug- or booze-induced./
Starving feels that way.

Keeping My Goal: Revolutionary Blogging Poem

Hands chilled,
I wait for the sun
to drift past
boats,
ducks,
docks,
riprap rocks,
to warm my keyboard.

As dawn comes
to a near-silent lake
(the 6:01 a.m. to Dallas flys overhead
and the first waterskiers jet out
to meet the waking,
wakeless lake),
I look at site stats.

No one viewed me today.
(She had a busy night.)
I catch up
on poetry written
but not blogged.
Yesterday’s busy sunshine
grew weeds,
lawn,
strawberry plants,
tomatoes to plant,
roses to water,
rhubarb to harvest,
and one,
lone
poem,
published a minute before
midnight.

My one-a-day
goal
remains intact,
not on purpose,
but just
in fact.

My hands remain numb
as I wait for the sun
to come.

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Why Men Move On: Romantic IMprov Poem

Sometimes guys attempt to get phone numbers from women who seem to want to play hard to get. During one such situation, a woman was told “If you want to maintain contact, the ball is in your court”. When she asked “Why?”, this was the response:

A guy /
can only try/
so hard /
before he gets tired/
and sucumbs/
to being numb/
and moves on /
to more fertile ground/
where growth is found./

Where the seeds he sows/
have a chance to grow./
Where they are received eagerly;/
watered fervently;/
cared for tenderly;/
and can burst through the lonely gloom,/
and bloom.