Tag Archives: free verse

Little Red Rooster Cherry Crisp: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

Little Red Rooster Cherry Crisp - Easter 2016I am certain that,
at some point,
I will create
a little red hen-type poem
about the joy of picking pie cherries
(with permission)
from The Neighbor’s tree,
processing the cherries
by putting them,
one by one,
and giving them to my aunt
to let her make them into
a fabulous cherry pie
nearly a year after the Harvest.

But right now,
my fingers are sore
from pulling out the pits.
My back is sore
from standing at the counter
too short for me,
and my hands are too messy
from the cherry juice
that has squirted out
all over the entire kitchen.

And besides,
I don’t even know
what the pie
will taste like.

Final product: Little Red Rooster Cherry Crisp for Easter, 2016Addendum:
As it turns out,
this was even more
of a Little Red Hen poem
than I thought it would be.

I’d delayed,
too long,
bringing my Aunt
the pie cherries.

So I took them back home,
put together a fruit crisp
(previously made with apples,
or peaches,
or strawberries,
or rhubarb,
or something similar).
This time, it featured my home-harvested
pie cherries.

Served ala’ mode after
a massive Easter dinner
with family and friends,
the self-picked-and-pitted-and-prepared-and-baked-organic-pie-cherry-crisp
was something I should eat
and share
by myself.

And so I did.

Trying Too Hard Means What? Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse

Some say that I “try too hard”.
What does that mean?

I try to be loving.
I try to be conscientious.
I try to be kind.
I try to be trustworthy.
I try to be friendly.
I try to be fun.
I try to be loyal.
I try to be helpful.
I try to be creative.
I try to be humble.
I try to be a hard worker.
I try to be spiritual.
I try to be intelligent.
I try to be visionary.
I try to be outgoing.
I try to be inclusive.
I try to be nonjudgmental.
I try to be cheerful.
I try to be non-prejudicial.
I try to be loving.
I try to be likable.
I try to be thrifty.
I try to be observational.
I try to be smiling.
I try to be joyful.
I try to be charitable.
I try to be righteous.
I try to be teachable.
I try to be the change.
I try to be a teacher.
I try to be contemplative.
I try to be repentant.
I try to be courteous.
I try to be obedient.
I try to be clean physically, mentally and spiritually.
I try to be brave.
I try to stand up for what’s right.
I try to be reverent.
I try to follow Him, to be a true Christian.
I try to be just.
I try to just be.

I am trying, but trying “too hard”?
What does that mean?
Why would I stop trying?

No Horse In The Desert, She: Romantic IMprov Free Verse Poem

In a desert,
some guy —
I don’t remember his name —
was singing
about a horse
in a desert.

We danced in the desert,
but no equine, she.
So I watched
and saw
what she
and others
could not:

Her luscious pink lips,
parted slightly in a smile,
the gentle curve of her body
as it swayed to and fro
to the music
while her hair,
waved back and forth
as though a blonde mane
caught in a mid-summer’s desert
not sirocco
evening breeze.

The sparkle and laughter of her eyes
as they caught
and reflected
and augmented
the spotlights.

The brilliance of her smile
exposed,
as she laughed with youthful glee,
recalling perhaps
those teenage years
when she first danced
in mid-America
to that song.
HorseWithNoName_CrowdDances_to_America_Composite_DraperDays_July2015

America Encore July 1972-2015: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Free Verse Poem

America plays Horse With No Name, Draper Days, 2015I knew the song well,
well before I saw it,
saw the title, first,
carved deep
in an old wood school desk
in the gable room
of my historic fachwerk church
in the heart of Cream City.

Each time
through the decades,
I heard about
the desert that had turned to sea,
I thought of that pen-rutted,
scarred wood,
revelation writing,
hinged desk top.

Will that still be
my embedded memory
now that I’ve seen,
second,
decades later,
in the desert,
the no-named
equine tribute
live?

The Complete Giant Cosmic Harmonic: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

Jupiter and Venus
lay equally,
while the smiling full moon
cast her light
over the wind-rippled lake.

I commented,
as bubbles from marsh gases,
released from sand,
rose between my toes,
how this moment
was like some kind of giant
universal
cosmic
harmonic.

And then,
as if to make it complete,
I swallowed a bug.
OR

And then
I swallowed a bug
to make it.complete.