Emotional Candy Store Dreaming Reality: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

BYU Museum of Paleontology - BYU Night at the Museums emotional man Who gets emotional/
about getting let into/
the back workroom/
research center/
of a world-class/
paleontology museum?/

Every middle-aged man/
who was once a little boy/
making stegosauruses/
out of modeling clay,/
pinching the green or red putty/
to form its back plates,/
rolling finely-pointed tail spikes/
between his fingers.

Plates of Food And Stegosauraus

Stegosaurus: BYU Paleontology Museum

Brunette Dreaming: Romantic Free Verse Poetry

She was brunette,
too,
young,
like me,
and I dreamed
and planned
and schemed
how to
date her,
and to what?It's a brunette thing: The hallway at Nicolet High School, ca. 1972

My German class
crush.
When I finally dared,
for the first time ever,
to ask her out,
heart in throat,
palms sweating,
stomach butterflying,
she said
she was
“too busy”.

Funny how some things
don’t change.
Maybe
it’s a brunette thing.

Return(ed) With Honor: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse

The red sandstone lay,
slight dimpled drill hole,
square-cut right-angled block,
beneath an ancient cross-joist
floor timber.

I thought I could take it,
a memory of someone’s old home,
a house I’d often seen
before a geological disaster
mud-slid, then drowned it
and its town,
thistle down,
into near oblivion.

Utah’s Pompeii,
covered with mud
except for a few
cut-stone
structures.

This red sandstone rectangle,
90 degree
right angle cut
not found in nature:
No one would miss it.

The rough red
would create an awesome border
on my garden,
a new use for old stone.

But even as I hoisted it
and walked car-ward,
it seemed to say:
“Stay.”
Heading downhill,
I slipped on rain-soaked mud
and had to throw it as I fell
to avoid having it
crush my pelvis.

Sitting in the back
of my car,
it seems to whisper
“Take me home.”

I almost dropped it off
last night,
right after I nearly hit
a white-tailed deer
on State Route 89,
near where there jersey barrier
separates me
and the block
from the home
it has known
for a hundred years.

Do the stones
have souls?
Do the square-cut corners
and dimpled indentations
still hold memories
and longingly speak?

I do not know.
I do know
that it does not belong
with me,
in my garden.
So I willdid return it
with honor,
and will hopefully
not slip again.
Returning Red Sandstone - Thistle Ghost Town

Two Words: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

From YOUth,
my head-mind
ego-fed,
unkind,
spoke words
of doubt,
“you’re absurd”,
fear,
“you’re not dear”.

Each time I thought about
doing
saying
writing
joking
dancing
acting
laughing
being
open mic-ing,
improving,
anything-ing,
I’d hear:
“That’s stupid.”
“That’s immature.”
“You’re attention getting.”
“That’s weird.”
“Others will think you’re odd.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“You’re absurd.”
“That’s not spiritual.”
“You’re a bad example.”
“You’re scary.”
“You’re juvenile.”
“What would Jesus do? NOT THAT!”
“You’re not good.”
“You’re evil.”
“You’re self-centered.”
“You’re a fool.”

For so long
I believed the voice,
the Angst,
the negative,
the stoppage,
until I was living
a blocked
shut-down,
fearing
life.

Then guides
invited me
to take an 8-inch
trip
down,
from my mind,
fearing,
name-calling,
ego,
to my heart.

I like journeys,
so I accepted
the invitation.
I took my hand
filled with thoughts
from my head,
and placed it
and them
on my heart.
There I felt
the warmth,
tenderness,
and love
growing from deep within.

As I heard-thought
those words
of fear
and rejection
and shame,
from my head,
my loving,
kind,
big,
gentle
heart
listened to them,
those embarrassment / hate words,
then simply,
calmly,
lovingly
but forcefully
whispered:
“Or not.”

Why They Call It Joy Riding: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

Click here for the video that prompted this poem)
Driving through
the snow-covered high
desert,
top down,
sun in my face,
wind blasting,
splitting my lips,
running my nose,
rocking to the radio,
I can’t help but look around,
see the mountain vistas,
throw my both my hands
high
in the air,
surf the wind,
yell “YEAAAAAAAAYHHHHHH!!!!”
and cry with unspeakable joy.
Damn, I’m happy!

And look!
There’s an American flag :-)!!!

Worth The Mud: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse

Driving my newly-washed car down a muddy Utah road to get to Sandy Beach, Utah LakeOn a cloudy Friday morning
I washed my car.
On a sunny Saturday afternoon
I drove down a muddy road
and went to the beach.

Was it worth it?

Oh yeah!
Most definitely!

OR
I washed my car/
on a cloudy Friday/
and went to the beach,
down a muddy road,
on a sunny Saturday afternoon.
Was it worth it?/
Oh yeah!
Most definitely.