Traveling Home: Revolutionary Improv Napkin Free Verse Poem

I touched
Steel City;
deco’d beaches;
the Big Easy;
Music City;
the Magic Kingdom;
Beer Town;
Red Rocks.

But my home
is here,
with this mic,
and you.

Hoar Frost Is Clean: Revolutionary Napkin Haiku

Have you felt hoar frost?
Not silky pole dancers, but/
white-iced vanishers.

Short Poem (HOORAY!) For Jessica: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

Your life and light shine./
You’ve already started to/
change the world. Keep on!

Napkin Poem Napkin Poem: Revolutionary Napkin Poem Haiku

I’m glad he is so/
careful folding napkins, so/
I can write on them.

Leader Of The Speakers: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

She shared her words, her/
enthusiasm, and her/
bread pudding with us.

Useless Empty Napkin, Unless: Revolutionary Napkin Haiku

An empty napkin/
is useless, unless it can/
collect snot* or words.
OR
*junk

I Am Charlie: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

Whether for cartoonists,
or cops,
or comics
or commentators,

or dancers,
or artists,
or poets,
or actors,
or journalists,
or designers,
or satirists,
or writers,

we stand,
free,
and dance,
free,
and paint,
free,
and create,
free,
and write,
free,
and speak,
freely,
free.

Can you hear
the people sing,
and speak,
and draw,
and write,
and dance,
and act,
and be?

Je suis
Charlie.

Je suis Ahmed.

I’m Sorry That You’re Sorry. STOP! Revolutionary Napkin Free Verse

I’m sorry
that this is old.
I’m sorry
that I just wrote this.
I’m sorry
I didn’t have the time.
I’m sorry
that I’m old.
I’m sorry
that it’s new.
I’m sorry
that I’m young.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry
that I’m sorry.

STOP!

Don’t apologize!
Sorry?
For what?

You are standing,
SOLO,
spilling your guts,
speaking for yourself,
sharing your mind,
telling truth.

Don’t give away
your power.
Don’t
be sorry.

I’m not.
We’re not.
Because you’re not
sorry.
You are
not.

Not
at
all
sorry.

Demographic Shock: Napkin Poem Free-Verse Improv Poetry

This poem was written years ago — I don’t know when — at Speak For Yourself open mic night in Provo, Utah, at Enliten Cafe / Guru’s on Center Street

The napkin poem
of the evening
is caught
in demographic shock,
and so must celebrate
we, who are not celebate,
we who are
older.

At last, I’m seeing
more gray beards,
male AND female,
with listening ears
and minds.

They bring their words
of wisdom,
words of age.
Some may rage,
but mostly we just say
lessons we’ve learned,
words we want to share,
because sharing words
keeps us safe.

Sharing words keeps us
angst-less,
and keeps us living,
and keeps us
alive.

Leave Brave And Return: Revolutionary Napkin Haiku

Props to the kid in/
the red sweatshirt — and Dad — who/
left and still returned.