Must I wait ’til it/
snows in Chattanooga to/
kiss someone like you?
Bridget Jones’ Diary Snow Kiss
Tag Archives: poet David Kuhns
Curse You, Facebook! Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
I’m addicted to/
share pics and words with folks who/
don’t care, and see theirs.
Dancing With Myself Dislike: Romantic Blogging Haiku Lament
Going to concerts/
solo reminds me how much/
I hate loneliness.
Firefly Fireworks Substitute: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
I was going to/
watch fireworks, then decided/
to watch fireflies dance.
OR
I was gonna watch/
fireworks fly, then decided/
to watch fireflies work.
Milk Carton Thug Girlfriend: Romantic IMprov Limerick
My girlfriend is a sexy thug.
I’ve fallen in love with her Milk Carton mug.
The dairy world calls her a looker.
She makes men want to book her
with that bad girl look that’s so smug.
Or Am I Just, At Last, Practical? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
Have I become too/
old, at last, to want to go/
out dancing weekends?
Don’t Save Your Breath: Revolutionary IMprov Prose
Through the years, I’ve had many friends, you included, who have told me positive things about me. They said kind, wonderful things, even when I argued with them, even when I didn’t believe them, even when it was obvious that I was exhausting them with my negativity and self-pity. They kept telling me wonderful thoughts:
I was good, I was smart, I was kind, I was important, I was intelligent, I was attractive, I was cute, I was an eccentric genius, someday I’d find my tribe and they’d get me.
and many other positive affirmations.
At the time these things were told me, I didn’t believe them. Sometimes I had to hear them many times, but finally I reached a place in my life where I realized that those things could be, might be, possibly may be, true. I accepted them, held on to them, carried them deep in my heart and my soul. They gave me hope. They prompted me and prodded me to keep trying, keep believing, keep hoping.
When I finally decided to take the leap out of self-pity and self-loathing, realizing that I could be someone worthwhile, the memory of all those positive comments came flooding back to me and substantiated me and reinforced me.
You face people who don’t believe you when you tell them how wonderful they are. It seems that you could repeat yourself until you are blue in the face, and they would never believe you. It seems like a waste of time.
So should you save your breath?
That fabulous, articulate, insightful, intelligent, kind breath?
No. Please no!
Why Is This A Wisconsin Concert Thing? Revolutionary ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku
Men stand, beer in hand,/
looking, bored, stage-ward, while their/
women dance hot. Why?