Staring at the Inner You: Revolutionary IMprov Poem

I wish I could figure out
how I feel about you
but I have no doubt
that I do feel about you.
I think that will suffice
and I’ll just be … nice.

(Oh, thou blonde vixen!
With decoutage’ rare!
How can we ignore you
and not stop and stare?!?!
But some of us
must avert our eyes,
and avoid the fuss;
not be surprised,
for to fully view you
would, like flamming rockets
our minds undo,
and burn our eyes from our sockets.)

To glimpse the regal majesty and stare
would take us into higher, rareified air.
Could we survive?
No, not in the least.
But ’twill be good to have been alive
and participated in your feast.

Sharing Spontaneous Thoughts: Revolutionary IMprov Poem

My heart swells
when I think of potential
possibilities
and tell
you of what shall
and what could be.

And I watch my words
and wonder
if they’re absurd
or if inspiration’s thunder
and bright flash
reflect what you ponder,
and where your thoughts are at.