Mashed Potatoes And Spitwads On The Ceiling: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Shooting spitwads and/
tossing mashed taters gives/
that rush when they stick.

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Scenic Trail Rush: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Why do I rush on/
a scenic trail? Because I/
want to know I can.

T-Shirt Vendor Performance Experience: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

He, rushed, didn’t have/
the whole experience he’d/
paid for. She, still, did.

Rushing Presidential Visits: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Others may make you/
rush more, even when you want/
to linger longer.

They Saw A Moose: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

These are some things you
might have missed in your hurry.
I can’t list them all.

Don’t Applaud Too Quickly: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

Why are you in such/
a hurry to applaud? The/
last note is the best.

Or

Don’t be in such a/
hurry to applaud. The last/
note is the richest.

Originally titled: Utah Folks Applaud Too Quickly

Rushed First Kiss: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku

A first kiss should be/
memorable but if you rush/
it, then it can’t be.

Leaving Too Soon: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

They rushed down the trails,/
got to their cars, drove fast and/
missed spectacular.

OR
They rushed down mountains,/
reached their cars, drove away fast,/
missed spectacular.

Misty-Eyed In An Alpine Meadow: Revolutionary Email Prose Memory

I recently recalled a life-changing event which happened when I first lived in Switzerland in the late 70s. As I wrote about it in an email and have thought about it since, it’s interesting to see how much it reflects my life and belief system.

I once was, with a group of friends, running down a steep mountain trail in the Alps above Luzern. It had started to mist slightly as the clouds rose up off the Vierwaldstaedtersee and slammed into the mountainside.
And then, while my friends ran onward, something caught my ears. In the distance I could hear cowbells (mind you, this was well before “More Cowbell” became popular!). They were the varied notes of dozens of Alpine cowbells, all ringing in uncomposed, yet somehow perfect, harmony, through the mist.
I stopped running, and thought to myself: “When will I ever again have this moment? When will nature and man-made music collide to play this for me?” Instead of running willy-nilly through the Alpine meadows — which, I noticed for the first time, were in early May bloom –, I strolled.
Sauntered.
Sometimes stopped and listened and reflected and learned.
I arrived at the village nearly two hours after my hurried, running friends.
“You missed dinner!” they exclaimed.
Instead, I feasted on cheese, slice apples, and yogurt, which seemed to fit the afternoon.
I could never bear to tell them:
“You missed a world premier performance.”

What’s the Rush?: A Prozaic Email Response

What’s the the rush, you ask?
The rush is seeing that you’ve responded to my communication.
The rush is the banter of two witty, intelligent minds jousting.
The rush is the thought about the opportunity of actually MEETING you and talking with you.
The rush is the antici …
…
pation.

The rush is the sensation of potentially finding an intellectual and stimulating equal.
The rush is finding a woman who doesn’t back down.
The rush is finding a person who is begging to be convinced.
The rush is finding a potential partner who really wants to …
but who doesn’t want to admit that she wants to.

That’s the rush.