Posts Tagged ‘stood up’

Stand Up Guilt: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku

March 2, 2016

She may need to stand/
me up. So why should I be /
feeling so guilty?

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She Was Stood Up: Romantic IMprov Haiku

May 6, 2014

Had I the chance to/
meet her, I would always show,/
and not just for scones.

Her Silence Results: Romantic IMprov Haiku

February 23, 2014

She released me to /
divine chicken mole’ on/
iron balconies.

Each Passing Hour Pain: Romantic ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku Lament

November 21, 2013

The more the hours go/
by and she does not flirt, the/
more I cry and hurt.

Virtually Stood Up: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament

November 21, 2013

When she says she’ll call,/
but then doesn’t, does that mean/
I’m getting stood up?

Troll Tasting Not Wasting: Romantic IMproVerse Sonnet

September 21, 2013

Well golly Gee!/
And good for you!/
You’re getting to see/
What you wanted to!/

You wanted so bad to go/
You could nearly taste it!/
You would’ve gone with a troll!/
It’d be a pity to waste it!/

Spend your evening with some other/
instead of with me./
Perhaps he’ll be the lover/
that I can no longer be./

And now that your old ticket is free/
I’ll search to discover who’ll go with me*!

OR
I’ll search for another who wants to be with me.

All-Knowing Teenager: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament

December 19, 2012

The teenager at/
the counter looked knowingly/
at me. “He’s stood up”.

OR

“Yep. Stood up.”

Virtual Date Stand Up: Romantic ConTEXTing Haiku

June 19, 2011

If you set dates that/
are virtual and no one/
calls, you’re still stood up.

Stood Up in a Ragtop: A Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

April 18, 2010

Before I sent ‘her’ this Haiku (she’d asked me to go to a Drive-In in Wallingford/Seattle) I wrote this:
I’ve never been invited to a first meetup
by a woman before.
(Nor a man, for that matter).
I would be foolish to say no.
If, after sitting in the car
(and we can sit topless in mine, if you prefer… if the sun is out),
you decide you like me, perhaps we can:

Wander through Wallingford,
staring at shops,
browsing books,
bending and pretending
we are erudite urbanites.
PS: What time?
(no rhyme).

Then, after she was a “no show” that Sunday morning, I wrote:

I guess suggesting/
going topless, after church,/
at Dick’s was too much.

When I sent ‘her’ this Haiku, I attached something else as well
I somehow thought you/
might enjoy this sad haiku/
I wrote about you.