Creativity

About CyranoWriter: a Revolutionary Romantic Poet and Writer

Thanks to several friends — old AND new — and thanks to the belief that today (Inauguration Day, 2009) IS a new day, I’ve decided to start writing, and posting my writings, along with my experiences as both a Romantic Poet and a Revolutionary Writer. Maybe it’s not right that I self-proclaim that I’m either — or both — of those things. But who is to say that I am, or I’m not?

Within my blog I will attempt to have two main thought process categories.

  1. Revolutionary Poems, stories, thoughts that are “Revolutionary” in nature. That is, they will be thoughts about anything topical and worthy of discussion, including self-discovery, OUTSIDE of my romantic writings.
  2. Romantic: Poems, stories, thoughts that are “Romantic” in nature. That is, they will tend to focus on writing toward a woman or women, discussing romantic relationships. They will probably be divided into:
    *”IMbic Poems 4an IMprov Age” (typically poems created “on the fly” while Instant Messaging (IMing) friends),
    *”ConTEXTual Poems” (typically poems created on the fly, but within the confines of sending cellphone text messages), and
    *Other poems and writings, either created within emails directed to someone, or as random thoughts.

It’s my hope to eventually publish these into a book (or several). I only hope that the formatting of the pages on WordPress allows me to put them into the various categories!
Dave Kuhns 20 January, 2009
http://www.geocities.com/dgkuhns
dgkuhns_writer@msn.com
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Inauguration Day Revolution Revelation

I wrote this poem shortly after President Obama was sworn in, and sent it, along with this note, to my family:
 I rarely
dare
to share
my poetry.
 
But it is a new day,
and I have something to say.
 
I wrote this conTEXTing preface Oct. 12, 2010, preparing for the Seattle Poetry Slam –
 
I watch Capitol steps and Mall populate/
as my friends celebrate/
the Audacity of Hope/
and I grope/
to know how I,/
a suburban white guy/
fit in./
And so I begin …   
 
(the video is above)
 
Inauguration Day Revolution Revelation
 
I am a revolutionary.

(The words stare out from the page,

although I’ve seen them in my mind before.

Have I?

I’m not sure!)

 

I’ve ridden – and ride — the bus

Not when it was dangerous

But when it is obnoxious.

Not for Civil Rights.

But for Earth’s Rights.

 

I am a revolutionary.

I’ve dug my hands deep

Not into plantations’ soil

Nor sharecropper’s clay,

But into the teaming,

Steaming,

Still hot, though winter’s day

at minus 20 degrees,

Compost heap,

That I first learned to keep

At ten,

And again,

At thirty,

To get my hands dirty.

And now

I know how

To show younger folk,

That they may pick up

That revolutionary yoke.

 

I am a revolutionary.

Though not the great-great grandson

Of anyone

Who history would honor

Nor remember.

 

Mine came across the water as well,

To seek a new life

in a promised land.

A land of opportunity they sought out

Of their own choice.

 

I follow that dream

Because I am the son of a father

Who has been to many mountaintops,

And rivers and marshes and forests and lakes

And said: “Make no mistake:

This is ours to preserve …

Or to eradicate.”

 

I am a revolutionary.

As the son of women who

Gave a hand up

When that’s all they could do.

Who, when others saw opportunity,

In times of greed,

Looked through with clarity,

And saw need,

And gave with charity.

 

Even now,

within my soul, I guess,

There is an inner vow:

“I can do no less!”

 

I am a revolutionary.

Lest there be any confusion

The earth,

and its people,

Are the roots of my revolution.

  

— Written after the Inauguration of President Obama, on my mother’s birthday, January 20, 2009

I read this poem at a committee meeting of the Seattle City Council in August, 2010. If you go to this link: YouTube copy of Inauguration Day Revolution Revelation at Seattle City Council sub-committee, “Words Worth”, 2010

romance is never about buying things.
cyrano_d_sensitive: It’s about doing.
cyrano_d_sensitive: Being.
cyrano_d_sensitive: It’s a gentle caress.
cyrano_d_sensitive: A held hand.
Jacque Dempster: I agree wholeheartedly. But, way too many men think that buying things like flowers or candy solves everything. Ugh.
cyrano_d_sensitive: A plucked wildflower.
cyrano_d_sensitive: an opened door.
cyrano_d_sensitive: a poem on a sticky note on a mirror.
cyrano_d_sensitive: A breath on the back of a neck as the full moon shines through the window, softly stirring her but not awakening from her deep slumber.
cyrano_d_sensitive: Just enough so she feels safe and protected and together.
Jacque Dempster: Whoa…..a poet
cyrano_d_sensitive: two decades of desire
cyrano_d_sensitive: fuel the fire
Jacque Dempster: I’ll bet it does.
cyrano_d_sensitive: long smothered
cyrano_d_sensitive: but at last uncovered
cyrano_d_sensitive: and, given fresh breath,
cyrano_d_sensitive: roars to life, from near death.
cyrano_d_sensitive: And to her invited
cyrano_d_sensitive: to fan the flame,
cyrano_d_sensitive: poetic romance, now requited,
cyrano_d_sensitive: will never be the same.

Soccer Come To Meeting Call: Revolutionary Email Poem

In 1999 I coached two soccer teams: The Tarantulas (boys) and da Blues. This poem, found recently, was on my email inviting the parents and kids to a pre-season meeting.

What’s the word?!?
Haven’t you heard?
Spring’s in the air!
There’s mud everywhere!
So heed the call
to kick the ball.

(This is my greetin’
to invite you to a meetin’).

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.