Creativity

The Poetic Artist versus Insecure Egotist: an IMprov Poem

There’s a femme fatale stunner I know…
and now that my confidence is no longer low
In my mind I’m empowered
to gather up flowers,
and see
if she’d like to see
where it will go.
Because I don’t know!

But there is a problem
I’ll admit.
And I don’t quite know
how to address it.

For some time
I’ve fantasized
about touching her back,
her neck,
her thighs!

As though that would be a solution
to my internal turmoil
and Revolution!

The solution was there
in my mind all along!
I just had to dare
to finally sing my own song!
Care to sing along?

(Now, I just need to balance
the verbal artist,
carefully and creatively
with the insecure egotist,
so I can co-exist!)

What is Romance? an IMprov Poem

Isn’t romance sometimes
the slightest of feelings;
the most sublime
way of dealing
with what we are dealt?
The way of controlling feelings
we maybe shouldn’t have felt?

Rising Mists: an IMprov Poem

O fair one!
When willst thou ‘rise
with sun’s rays in thy hair
and dreams’ mists in thine eyes?
Would that I were there
to kiss away thine every care!

Siberian Back Kiss: an IMprov Poem

There is a place
along your back
where breaths gently flow,
where nothing attacks;
where butterflies land
and their gentle wings flutter;
where moist kisses fall,
and tenderly make you shutter.

Where quiet, solitude, and bliss
all combine,
intertwine,
and are felt
with a kiss.

To gain that spot on your back,
though,
the rider, searching that destination
must go
slow.

For tenderness and passion
from such cold Siberian depths upwelling
are often hid, and only revealed
by the master’s gentle telling.

And the visions your eyes alone see,
cannot, of themselves, bring you to your knees.
But the sum of all your tender senses
will rip down those cold winter fences,

and let the warmth glow
and grow
exactly
where it should go.

Too Far Down the Interstate

The temptation
and frustration
that you give

are like libation;
hibernation
because you live

so far
from where we are
able to reach sedation…

And you know
how the song goes
I wanna be…

Deep Dish Pizza and Chocolate

Cheese pizza (Chicago style) and hot
chocolate in the snow …
live not far away from each other
on this interesting street I know!

Why Is It? (A Questioning Sonnet)

Why is it
that a woman with heart pain
can, from the healing,
touch and laughter, refrain?

That she can turn her back
on the smile and the mind
who would never attack,
but instead, treat her kind?

That she, instead of salving
her torment and pain,
returns to the types that hurt
her again and again?

That she continues to reject
that gentle heart, tender hands, kind eyes,
sweet words, laughing voice that help heal,
(much to her surprise!)

That she can’t believe in a guy who could care?
That she still searches, when she should just dare?

Mussed Muse

Another IMprov Poem

    Mussed Muse

Usually I try
being romantic
with my rhymes.
If she acts frantic
then the paradigm shifts –
and the muse
is mussed.

On IMing Goodnight

Another IMprov poem; this was written around Dec., 2005

    On IMing Goodnight

I think about you often
of holding you close
and then
I wish I could be closer to you
and off I go again.

Off to the neverland
of dreams
of passions new and fresh
of desires and yearning
and insides turning
as you take away my breath.

A proper goodnight?
A proper farewell?
There is none in sight!
Nor could I ever tell
how hard it is to
bid adieu;
to once again say goodbye.
I only can hope that,
when I do—
you’ll consider it a lullaby.

Goodnight, sweetest lips
gentle caress
soft fingertips
flashing eyes
lightest hair
I hear your sighs
as you picture me there.

Goodnight.

CyranoWriter’s Creativity blog started more than a decade ago. I heard a poet read at President Obama’s first inauguration. I thought: “I can do that!” And so I started.

Making a goal of writing and posting a poem or creative piece every day, I put my creative thoughts into a wordpress.com blog. More than 7400 creative pieces later, I moved that site over to CyranoWriter.com. If you followed me there, welcome back!

What is CyranoWriter’s Creativity?

Most of these pieces are short poems, which I try to make into Haiku (they are in the sense that they are 5/7/5). Some are longer. Some are free verse. Some are prose pieces. Some are silly. Most are serious and observational.

All of them feed my soul.
(Here is a great piece from Dead Poets Society / Robin Williams)

Most of the pieces are “romantic” in nature (single for more than a decade, I had a lot to say about the pathos of that state). Now that I’m married, the romantic writing continues, but with much more hope. Other pieces are observations of either nature or human nature. Many deal with the issues we all face daily. And still others are just thoughts and musings, prompted by my observations of what is happening around me. Some are augmented by my photography. Most are left for you, the reader, to visualise in your mind. All of these reflect how I see the world, and what living and observing and just being means to me.

My hope, my dream, is that people will read my work and “see new”. They’ll think about how they see or what they feel about the things I see and feel. And, most importantly, I hope my writing, day after day after day after day, will inspire others to simply see, to observe the amazingness happening around them, and to capture it in whatever form or style they choose.

People tell me “I used to write. I wish I could write more. I need to write more.” To them — to YOU — I say: “Do.” Because, 7 years ago, I heard another poet. And then, I did.

PS: My work is in chronological order, with the most recent writings immediately following this post. If you are looking for a particular subject or topic, type in some key works in the “Search” bar (above right), and it should bring up all my writing related to that topic.