Tag Archives: muse

#FiveWordsToMariah Too Late: Romantic ImproVerse Poem

Background: In July, 2015, a dating site held a contest: Send Five Words To Mariah (Carey) for a chance to see her “live” in Vegas. I, of course, wrote something brilliant … but forgot to send it in on time.

We’re hopeful, not hopeless, romantics.

Cross Training — What If? Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

What If? Cross Training–

You know the way
we have coaches to help us
when we work out
or diet
or do physical activities?

“Just five more reps!”
“Come on, you got this!”
“Looking good!”
“Only a few miles more!”
“The view is worth it!”
“You feel better about yourself
when you feel better!”
“You don’t need that cookie!”

And when we post
And boast
about our weight loss,
on Facebook,
or we show
a photo
of us,
everybody tells us
how FABULOUS! we are.
“Congratulations!”
“Lookin’ good!”
“Wow! What a stunner!”

Is that all I am to you?
My body?
A piece of firm
(or not)
meat?

What about the rest of me?
The who I am?
What if we supported each other like that
with everything?

Intellectual: “You’re reading Walden??
Whoa! DEEP STUFF!
“Come on, just one more chapter!
You got this!”
“Finish him up,
Then move to Whitman!”
Trailing clouds of glory! That’s YOU”
“You know you want it! Go get it!”

Creative: “That song you wrote?
I listened.
It’s awesome!”
“A poem a day?!
You’re amazing!
I want a sonnet for me!”
“Your words flow!
“Just try one more!
You can do this!”

Interpersonal: “I know you don’t
agree with them.
Kill “em with kindness!”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.
Let’s work together on this.
You’re so good at this!”
“You can change the world!”
“Baby steps!”

Professional: “You finished three spreadsheets?
AND the business plan!?!
How do you do it?!”
“I know you’re Smart enough!”
“You can do it!”
“Just one more hour on this project. YEAH!!”
“You’ll have it locked down!”

Spiritual: “You visited three families this month?
And helped them?!
You’re a role model!”
“Let’s get after that reading and meditation.
You’re doing a half hour?
Push it. Push it. PUSH IT!!
Go for an hour.
You got it! you got it!
One more verse!
One more prayer!
Feel the love! Feel it! feel it!”

Natural: You watched Jupiter and Venus collide? You ROCK!
“I’ve never seen the moon until you showed me
the way it can be.
You’ve opened up the heavens to me.
You’ve uncovered fields of flowers for me.
I never SAW until you showed me your vision!
Keep doing that.”

“Come on! You know you got this.
Push it! Push it harder!
See yourself showing others! ENVISION!
Open up the world!”

And on and on and on we could.
If we would.

If we’re not going to be satisfied with ourselves,
and each other, physically,
why should we settle for being
“just good enough”
in ANY other area?

Push me. Come on!
I can take it.

Just don’t just tell me
I’m overweight.

Lisa’s (The High School Cheerleader) Lesson: Romantic Free Verse Blogging Poem

She was
I recall,
one of the prettiest cheerleaders
of all.

Blonde, gold hair,
flashing blue eyes,
near perfect skin
pearly smile,
cheerleader’s body.

I,
nerd,
could only gaze
from afar,
and hold my breath,
and wish,
and dream
as she
and her friends
glided by,
laughing.

But sometimes,
she’d smile at me.
and make my heart
burst
and my stomach
flip.
Fodder
for nighttime fantasies.

As prom approached,
I dreamed.
In the mid-70s,
not cool
to actually GO,
but in private,
I could still imagine.

She was always there,
floating,
cloaked in gauze
and satin.
I’d ask her.
She’d say “Yes! Of course!”
totally shocking me,
disregarding social norms,
the cheerleader
and the nerd,
revenge thereof,
(before anyone thought of the film.)

We’d go,
and my social status
and my life
would change.

Then I’d wake up.

She,
of course,
was elected prom queen.
I gave myself
some eco-excuse:
“Prom
is not
socially responsible.”
Lie.

The dance,
tuxes and formals,
came
and I went
fishing,
wishing,
she’d been MY catch.
Prom Queen.

Months later,
I learned the awful,
heart-wrenching
truth
of Senior Prom.
She’d  had no
date.

Her father drove her
to the ballroom.
She entered to applause,
was crowned,
danced for a couple of tunes
with the butter-fly bow-tied
Prom King,
made her rounds,
shook hands,
walked out to where Daddy
was waiting,
drove home,
probably cried herself
to sleep.

I wondered
and have wondered
many times since:
What if I
would have asked?

Would she have laughed?
Would she have said “Yes!”?
Would that have changed
my life?
The snot-nosed nerd
who took the Prom Queen?
Would that have changed
her life?

I wonder.

A few years ago
I wanted to ask
a middle-aged
prom queen-type.
I balked.
I was afraid.
Then,
I remembered
a beautiful, smiling, cheerleader
with no prom date
except her daddy,
crying.

I swallowed,
hard,
and asked.
She laughed
and said “No!”
She was busy
that night.
But later?
“Certainly.”

And we did
and did,
and did.

Since then,
I’ve always asked.
There is no social status
I am not worthy of.
There is no beauty
I cannot dance with.
There is nobody
who is out of my league.

Thank you,
Lisa L.,
for the lesson.
If I ever see you
again,
I will ask,
as I should have
then.

Because every pretty girl
deserves to go to a ball,
and even a poor nerd
deserves happiness.