I offered to write/
a gift poem. She said I had./
I won’t pen again.
Tag Archives: muse
Birthday Girl: Romantic IMprov Haiku
She is, still, always/
the dream I have in mind when/
I imagine it.
My Memory, No Video, Remembers: Revolutionary IMprov Free Verse Poetry
He saw
a desert picture,
Mojave,
her costume,
her children,
the stage,
and remembered.
Somewhere,
in Ecotopia?
there is video
proof:
A costume’d man,
Teenage
Mutant
Ninja Turtle
(popular the first time around)
standing on a balcony
stage,
as soft light
through the patio window
breaks.
He’s surrounded by
young ballerinas,
Merry Misses,
missing the raindrops
and the mist,
laughing,
skipping,
she directing.
Were there tissues
and cloth
and streamers?
Moving,
Swirling,
Dancing
around him,
(old yet young,
giggling)
chanting:
“excellent.
Excellent!
EXCELLENT!”
It was her first
video choreograph.
It was finished,
parked,
and lost.
He never saw it,
that videoed memory,
most excellent,
but in his mind,
he can recall
those better,
more pure
days,
and dances.
Even without
the video,
taped,
and the paper mache’
green and purple,
long since crushed
and lost
turtle head.
Seeing hats of green,
he remembers.
She
has not strayed.
Her art
reminds him
to be
mutant
excellent.
White Brick Cheese Gift: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament
Remember that smooth/
white brick I’d bring you? Now that/
you don’t read, I won’t.
OR
Remember that sharp/
cheddar I’d bring you? Now that/
you don’t read, I won’t.
Take Your Time: Romantic Found Email Haiku
I’m getting sleepy./
Take all the time that you need./
I will not be there.
Thumbs Down Moon: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Lament
The thumbnail moon was/
giving me a big thumbs down/
sign but … It’s Christmas!
Being A Muse: Romantic Email Haiku
I always wondered/
how it felt to be a Muse./
Now I know. Awesome!
Alone At The Open Window Gently Used: Romantic ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku
Does she recall, at/
all, laying in bed, folded,/
hearing the rain fall?
Blue-Streaked Misty: Romantic IMprov Rhyming Haiku
She captivates me./
Blue streaked hair, n’er tongue, too young,/
yet I get misty.