Warm Georgia Summer Evening Surprise: Improverse Blogging Haibu

From the inside, through my 90’s shaded-design oval door window, it looked like recent Georgia sunsets: Cool, golden, breezy, comfortably worthy of a front-porch sit for a spell. I knew the frogs would be chirping and croaking and screeching melodically, there might be a whip-or-will or mocking bird or mourning dove singing joyfully at the setting sun, and various and sundry unidentified bugs would be rhytmically scraping and creeking and thrumming and whatever they do, lacing a deep-layered cacophony of sound like a grandmother’s old, well-worn quilt over the newly-mown hay and lawn and the soon-to-be-harvested gold-and-black-tassled corn in the field just beyond the broken-in-half hickory tree.

Surprise.

Stepping out onto the porch, the evening’s still, stiffling air laid on my face and arms like mold in a plastic bag full of what teenaged boys might call “garbage cheese” — not quite rotted into limberger, but still stenchy and pungent enough to make me want to avoid taking a deep, rich breath.

No breeze.

Instead, as I stood still and watched the sunset dapple through the aged oak and hickory trees, as I tried to revel in the natural symphony I’d expected, the damp-dank humid humors of the evening felt as if I was at the end of some God/Satan spraygun of tangible air-mist-grime-pollen. And no scents. Nothing to make breathing the languid vapors worthwhile. No sense of reward or joy or revelation. Just deep cotton-like vapors filling my nostrils and throat and lining my lungs.

I sat down anyway, rocked slowly the way one should on a Southern porch in late July, and waited for an evening breeze to come and wash away the fog-like depth of the moment so I could, at last, completely see-hear-taste-smell-feel-sense all-in-all around and through and in me.

And a distant owl hooted.

When unexpected/
nature clouds your mind, be still./
She’ll clear your senses.

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She didn’t expect/
to read poetry on a /
first date. She’s cool brave.

Surprise And Joy At A Fireside: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Free Verse

How oft/
have we gathered,/
’tis eventide,/
to listen to calm,/
soothing/
music,/
followed by/
pulpit thunder.

What a great surprise/
and fun joy/
to expect deeply spiritual
teaching,
but first
get Broadway show tunes
and ragtime
from the pulpit instead.

Some wouldn’t applaud.
(It’s the chapel, you know!)
But those
in the know
held up Fosse Fingers
and waved Jazz Hands.

Unexpectedness: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

?

When you unexpectedly/
visit an unexpected place,/
you may find/
unexpected diamonds.

Unexpected Dancing: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

My first lake dancing/
was not with someone who I/
ever expected.

I Didn’t Expect Her To Wave Back: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

As I drove by, I/
waved at the whitefaced cow. She/
watched and wagged her ear.

Unexpected Wildlife Traces: Revolutionary Rhyming ImproVerse Haiku

I looked for nature./
In an unexpected place,/
I found wildlife’s trace.
OR

What’s tawdry tales and/
talisman’s are left hanging/
on rural fences?

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Rising out of a/
vacant lot, wildflowers bring/
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Unexpected Tacos, Churros And Horchata: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

It seems my life is/
filled with finding weird things*. Street/
vendor dinner? Si!!!

OR
… finding the unexpected,/
like midnight vendors.

Words Warm Rain: Romantic IMprov Haiku

His soft, tender words/
rained warmly over and in/
her, unexpected.