Tag Archives: Poetic Lament

Sad To Hear Ziggy Starman’s Passing – RIP David Bowie: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku(s) Lament(s)

I just leaned back on/
my radio and bid the/
Thin White Duke adieu.
OR
I just leaned back on/
my radio and bid the/
Starman a farewell.

AND
On Ziggy’s Segue — My Favorite: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku Lament
Ziggy played guitar /
as I grew up. Hey man, may/
his loud sounds not fade.

AND
original found poems / haiku inspired by David Bowie (RIP)

Dancin’ With Mr. D: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku
Today, if I had /
some red shoes I would put them/
on and dance the blues.

AND
We Have In Common Surprise: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku
Commonalities:/
“Hey that’s far out! So you heard/
him too!!” surprised me.
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Overview of how David Bowie influenced me:
Share a comment, reflection or memory related to David Bowie and/or his passing:
Leaning back on my radio in Milwaukee in the early 70’s, I heard the amazing sax and guitar rocking riffs of “Suffragette City”. Blown away, I anxiously waited until the end of the song for the DJ (not hazy cosmic jive) to announce the name of the song, the artist and album. Gathering my coins together, I rode my bike up to the record store on Silver Spring Drive and anxiously asked the cashier if they had “Ziggy Stardust by some Bowie guy”.
Listening to the album, I at first didn’t like the slower, ballad/bluesy songs that made up most of the concept album… but then grew into loving them — and the amazing lyrics — as much as the fast-paced pieces.
When Aladdin Sane came out, I bought it when it first hit the shelves, and hung the centerfold poster on my wall. My dad made me take it down, saying it was a bad influence on my younger brother.
PinUps, with Bowie’s amazing covers of older rock classics, was my next and final purchase. School, travel, missionary work and marriage removed me from an active fan status, but I always watched his work with interest, and wanted to see him in concert.
I never took the chance.
As a Mormon missionary with a companion who HATED me, it was my air guitar quote of “Ziggy Played Guitar” which got my companion to start talking to me about music (and, boy, could he play guitar!), and turned a hater into one of my best friends.
And the lyrics! So bizarre and complicated, yet so accessible and amazing. Mr. D. was truly a genius who let us dance in our own style.
“Hey that’s far out! So you heard him too!”
David Kuhns, Springville, Utah / Milwaukee, Wisconsin — Jan. 12, 2016

Pixels Of Light, Words On A Page: Romantic Blogging Iambic Poetic Lament

I stand
as a man,
and expose
my soul
and my head
with dread,
and my heart.
Women want to see other parts:

The plump
gut or rump,
the face wrinkles,
the sprinkles
of grey
I won’t wash away.
For until we’ve met in person,
I’m a pixels of light version.
I could be real,
like what I feel,
or just a joke
made with mirrors and smoke.

I write words
some deep, some absurd
that say who I am,
and she’ll listen
and, if in tune,
she might swoon
and think me great,
and can not wait.
To greet me.
She feels romantically
inclined;
thinks I might be divine,
and just right.
But it requires sight.
We can’t be complete
until we at last meet.

I’m just paint on her palette;
a sculptor’s chisel and mallet
laying still and unused.
And she’s just my dreamed Muse.

I park
my car,
stand up, and from afar,
She sees no spark.
She feels no fun.
We’re done.
Over. Finito. Finished.
Visions once so delish
are now just pixels of light
that failed to ignite.

Words on a page
which once engaged
her mind, heart and soul,
no longer glow,
but now vanish,
and the mist
of possibility
ceases to be.

(Except, guess what?
It could be “Or Not!”)

Christmas Perspective Changed: Revolutionary Email Free Verse Poem

T’was a few nights before Christmas
and I was feeling
sorry for myself,
seeing all my friends
and relations
surrounded by kids
and grandkids,
hugging each other,
decorating the houses,
trimming the trees,
making Christmas cookies,
fudge,
candy,
and other
wonderful
treats,
filling their homes
with the joyful laughter,
singing,
and sweet smells
of the season.

Then I remembered
what I had,
and who,
and arose out of my pity bed,
sprang to the kitchen,
pre-heated the oven
and made cookies
and my traditional
sweet-smelling apple crisp
for my mother.
Making cookies and apple crisp for Christmas