Posts Tagged ‘swim’

Lakefront Good, Better, Best: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

April 20, 2016

Living on the lake, /
there’s lots I could do, but just/
one thing I should do.

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Exercize, Day One, 45 Minutes: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

February 4, 2014

Ten lengths swum, three run/
in between. Sad. I’ll improve./
I’m my own drag suit.

Being The First In: Revolutionary Blogging Haiku

May 4, 2011

Being "first in" at Lake Winneconne, Wisconsin gets you $1 from Gene Kuhns. May as well shampoo your hair while you're in the water. It is INCREDIBLY COLD.
The ice, finally,
is out. It will be vi’lent.
I am the first in.

Sharing Water With Friends- A Rescue: Revolutionary Email Poetry

May 4, 2011

May 4, 2011, 8:23 AM

She
who floats,
drifts,
glides,
pulses with waves
on the vast sea,
struggling alone,
insists on
friendship,
yet yearns for
penetrating
gazes and
soft
caress;
for deep
knowing,
for caring
fingertips,
for warmth
of being pulled,
rescued from
eternity’s depths,
held from loneliness.

He
stands in the foam,
wades into the waves,
dives deep,
out, through the surf,
to her side.

Strong, sure
strokes,
practiced for years,
never fully used,
wishing he could
extend
in full measure,
his caress,
his feelings,
his thoughts,
his soul.

He saved
friends before,
but not like this.
Not with all
the passion,
tenderness,
poetry,
soft caress
his heart has to offer.

He doesn’t want
to just pull her to shore
and wait for
someone else
to revive her.

But if that’s all
she wants, friends …

Or maybe it’s just
semantics.
—–
Resuce Addendum (9:32 a.m.)

As they,
two,
lay on the beach
together,
entwined,
he applied
the aid learned,
the touch
and caress
she yearned
for.

Could she revive
and realize
that time
and patience
and proper
application
was all
she really wanted
or desired?

No other aid
was needed.

To a Woman Collecting Her Thoughts: A Revolutionary IMprov Poem

February 25, 2009

She didn’t seem meek
Speaking,
and sitting,
on the banks of the creek

that cool, rainy day.
But then I watched
her thoughts
float away.

And suddenly
she had no more to say.
So, she ran to get them
But fell in
and couldn’t collect them,
nor could she swim.

And I,
like the nice guy
that I am,
leapt in,
reached out my hand,
and

collected her
thoughts.
Thinking
not
of her sinking

on that cool, rainy day,
but of thinks I’d collected
that she wouldn’t say.
And she floated away.