Tag Archives: rhythm

Preparation For A Spread: Romantic ImproVerse Free Verse Poetry

The course
has been set,
laid before us.

What preparations
need to be made
before partaking
in such a sumptuous spread?

Personal cleanliness is paramount.
Though we’ve been preparing
long before,
at last
a cold bath,
warm tub,
hot shower
is needed.

Each makes their choice,
as they also do
for their appropriate attire.

Then, as part of both anticipation
and preparation,
we would, together,
call upon Him
for the blessings of heaven,
each in our own way.

Lastly,
I would be pleased
to share
through the power which we share,
which Father has bestowed,
with hands on her gentle head,
words which are not mine,
but divine,
being with us
and in tune
and focused.

Thus, in all ways
right
and righteous
and tuned in,
we are then prepared
to participate
and partake
wholly
and completely
and righteously,
even if not
quietly.

Creating Found Object Art: A Draped-Wall Recipe — Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

Blank Canvas
Blank canvas for Blue drape'd graffiti wall, Thistle, Utah ghost town
Location:
A grafittied and windowed
cement, brick and adobe ruined wall
in a ghost town
in Central Utah.

Ingredients:
A several foot long
orange and black
polyester rope.
Two 5-inch pieces
of bailing wire.
Several pieces of old blue tarp,
starting to dissolve,
twisted, torn
and actively ripping.
A used square red 4-holed brick.
A used broken yellow clay brick.
Two pieces,
one yellow,
one orange,
of baling twine
pulled off rotted hay bales.

Installation

Throw the rope through
the Eastern-most,
partially bricked-up
window,
Cask of Amontillado-like,
toward the snow-covered,
sunset pink mountain peaks
in the distance.

The black-orange coral-snake
now hangs over
the graffitied north wall
of the adobe and cement house ruins.
Take one end of
the largest piece
of blue tarp
and twist-tie it to the rope.

Unravel the frayed blue plastic
until you find the strongest
and longest
terminus
opposite the rope end.

Tie the open end
to another end of frayed blue tarp.
Repeat the process,
laying the tarp lengthwise
along the base of the cement/adobe wall,
until it reaches the far western wall.

Twist-tie two pieces of bailing twine
to the end of the frayed blue tarp piece.
Take the other end of twine
and run it
through a center hole of the red brick.
Tie them together.
First installation: Blue drape'd graffiti wall, Thistle, Utah ghost town
Raise the red brick to sit on the edge
of the far West window.
The frayed blue tarp will rise.
Unfurl and untwist
pieces of blue tarp
so they are extended
as far as possible.

Final Adjustments
In the center,
raise a triangled piece
of frayed blue tarp
to the sill of the third window.
Place the yellow brick on the tarp,
holding it in place.

The blue tarp will now be draped
over the wall.
Push the red brick
through the western window,
so the tarp raises higher
and is taut.

In the center,
find a grommet
in the blue tarp.
Take a piece of baling wire
and twist it through the grommet,
leaving the wire’s end
extended.Final adjustments-- Blue drape'd graffiti wall, Thistle, Utah ghost town -- hanging

Raise the blue tarp and grommet
as high as possible.
Insert the bailing wire
deep into a crack between the bricks
in the middle bricked-up window,
insuring it is tight.

Go to the other side
of the Eastern,
partially-bricked window,
and pull the rope
until the tarp
is completely raised
and taut.

Finished.

Is It Art? What Is?

Christo trucked in
fabric sheets
and ran a fence,
draping miles
of Nature’s perfect
California coastal
mountainside scenery.

They raised The Gates,
which stood
in Central Park,
stopping folks
wanting to bike
and play
on the lawn.

In 14 days,
the mono-colored
Tibetan Prayer-Flag-like
piece
won’t be taken down.

The fabric
and the ropes
and the walls
and the creators
won’t have grant money
given,
or books written about,
or Life Magazine photo essays
shot
extolling.

Yet who is to say that
groupings of found objects,
similarly hung
by unknown creatives
on the side of
a mud-slide destroyed
ruin
in a Utah railroad ghost town
once known as Thistle,
isn’t also art?

Completed hanging: Blue drape'd graffiti wall, Thistle, Utah ghost town

Two Words: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

From YOUth,
my head-mind
ego-fed,
unkind,
spoke words
of doubt,
“you’re absurd”,
fear,
“you’re not dear”.

Each time I thought about
doing
saying
writing
joking
dancing
acting
laughing
being
open mic-ing,
improving,
anything-ing,
I’d hear:
“That’s stupid.”
“That’s immature.”
“You’re attention getting.”
“That’s weird.”
“Others will think you’re odd.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“You’re absurd.”
“That’s not spiritual.”
“You’re a bad example.”
“You’re scary.”
“You’re juvenile.”
“What would Jesus do? NOT THAT!”
“You’re not good.”
“You’re evil.”
“You’re self-centered.”
“You’re a fool.”

For so long
I believed the voice,
the Angst,
the negative,
the stoppage,
until I was living
a blocked
shut-down,
fearing
life.

Then guides
invited me
to take an 8-inch
trip
down,
from my mind,
fearing,
name-calling,
ego,
to my heart.

I like journeys,
so I accepted
the invitation.
I took my hand
filled with thoughts
from my head,
and placed it
and them
on my heart.
There I felt
the warmth,
tenderness,
and love
growing from deep within.

As I heard-thought
those words
of fear
and rejection
and shame,
from my head,
my loving,
kind,
big,
gentle
heart
listened to them,
those embarrassment / hate words,
then simply,
calmly,
lovingly
but forcefully
whispered:
“Or not.”

Roadmap Guides We Follow: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

Everybody tries to give us
roadmaps for our lives.
Our friends
at the bar,
our buddies
on our sports teams,
our neighbors,
family members,
schoolmates,
coworkers,
our bosses,
the garbageman,
the guy at the store.
Everyone.

They all have a good
idea
of what we should do,
shouldn’t do,
and how we should do it
or not do it,
and why.

Most of these guides
are well-meaning.
They may have some hidden agenda,
some ulterior motives,
but most of the time
they just wish
what’s best for us,
and for our happiness.

So why do we ignore
that one God who loves us
unconditionally.
He who has no ulterior motive
other
than our happiness
and well-being?

He who is big,
and because He is perfect,
and because he knows us better
than we know ourselves,
can give us
the advice and counsel
that will ultimately make us
happy
beyond measure?
Why don’t we listen
to Him?

Waiting For My Map: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Free Form Poetry

Sitting in the pew,
I am
A clean slate;
An empty chalkboard;
A white doc;
A unformed lump of clay;
A tilled garden;
A blank canvas.

I wait to hear
What He will say;
What direction I should go;
What I will change;
What He wants me to do;
How to best obey.

I’m willing to turn
my life over;
Fill my empty,
clean,
white,
unformed,
tilled,
blank
heart and soul and mind
with His directions.

Begin.

What She Sends Me: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

She sends me
Photos
Showing her beauty.
All of it.
I didn’t ask.
I actually never have.
Well, maybe sometimes.
When I was lonely.
Back in the day.
Like yesterday.

But this time,
Really,
I didn’t ask.
They just showed up.
First,
Selfies in a mini-van.
Selfies in the kitchen.
Then,
golden-lighted,
(the way bedroom lights glow)
Copper-tonedskincolors
FromherbedohmyheckthatsAMAZING
Surprise.

But not so much.
Because many do it.
Just as, I’m sure,
Many ask for it.

So it should be no shock
To anyone
That almost everyone
Probably has gotten them
Or has probably sent them
(Except the Supreme Court
Who simply passed on
The envelope
Without even looking.)

Does thinking about it
makes you sick?
Yes.
Just like it
makes me ill.
Punched in the stomach.
Kicked in the heart.

Because I and you like
to think
We are unique
And sacred
And wanted
Only.

And I and you don’t want
to imagine
That we are common
And cheap
And normal
And doing what
Almost
Everyone else does
Or has least thought about.

I feel sadillsickpunchedkicked
Especially when
I look at the pictures
And know they weren’t taken
Today
Or last night,
For just me,
But weeks or months ago
For someone else
And I am just an afterthought,
a “may as well”,
A “I wonder what he’ll think”,
A “this should surprise him.”

Being ordinary
Makes me sadillsickpunchedkicked
And cry
And hide.

In my corner,
cowering,
contemplating,
I wonder
When I get them,
“Why me?”
Do I have
“PERVERT” or “VOYEUR”
Or “TYPICAL GUY”
or “PIGDOGRUNTMEATHEAD”
Stamped across my forehead?
Does my London Fog coat
Look like I could flash it open
At any moment?

Or do I just get those photos
Because I’m a guy
And guys like that type of stuff
And guys like that are pigs
And all guys are pigs
Therefore I should be sent those photos
To prove to her and everyone else
That I’m a pig,
And that I’m not worthy of her time.

She’d never send those photos
To “him”.
He’s too straight-laced
She says,
And would probably faint
And then write her off
And dump her.

Noooo! She,
Wearing lace
collars,
Church-going,
Righteous,
Sunday School
Or women’s auxiliary
Teacher
Or holy music
Leader
On her way to minister
To the sick
And the lonely
And the depressed
And oppressed,
That’s not the her
Who she wants to be
To herself
Or anyone else
Who matters.
Especially not
To him.

She is that good person.
I see her like that.
So does everyone else.
He, especially.

So he gets mini-van selfies
And kitchen selfies
And selfies with both of them
Happy on the trail
Or at dinner
Or at sunset
Or on the beach
Or doing something wonderful.

Sweet, gentle, peaceful selfies,
Graceful,
Censored by life,
Until the time he gets to see
Everything she wants to show him
In person.
Because he is worthy
Of getting nothing now
And everything later.

While I,
Who try so hard
Not to be “that type”,
Not to be known “like THAT,”
Get unsolicited
Golden bedroom light photos
That keep filling up
My texts
And computer-file folders
And mind
With selfie smiles
I can’t forget
But won’t ever get.

I Am Charlie: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

First performance of I am Charlie - Pen and Poetry
Whether for cartoonists,
or cops,
or comics
or commentators,

or dancers,
or artists,
or poets,
or actors,
or journalists,
or designers,
or satirists,
or writers,

we stand,
free,
and dance,
free,
and paint,
free,
and create,
free,
and write,
free,
and speak,
freely,
free.

Can you hear
the people sing,
and speak,
and draw,
and write,
and dance,
and act,
and be?

Je suis
Charlie.

Je suis Ahmed.
Je suis CHARLIE -- I am Charlie

Supah Wisconsin Style (Donchaknow!): Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse

While I’m getting ready/

to fly out,
a sophisticated,

jet-setting

Mercedes-driving couple

sees my cheesehead,

my John Kuhn autographed Packers jersey,

my Wisconsin wool and leather letterman’s jacket,

and my Packers shopping bag

(filled with cheese

and summer sausage.)

They smile,

and then exclaim: “We like your style!”

Ja, hey!

I’m in Wisconsin,

aina?!?

Packers Cheesehead Wisconsin Style