Xanadu Revisited With Codeine: Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poem

I lay,
room spinning,
throat choking me,
wondering what was reality
and what was dreamscape
fantasy.

I wondered if I’d become as Coleridge,
if I should take up my pen and write and write and write
of things seen in fantasy vision,
of women danced with and light cotton gauze summer dresses,
of time lost in a solitary tick of the clock,
seeming to go on forever and yet being a moment.

Or was it longer?

And as the codeine cough syrup flowed through my veins,
I felt myself elevating above the bed and spinning and turning and collapsing again down,
and wondering if I would never rise again.

But determined to rise I was.
Determined not to die and be found by my mother,
wide open I’d died,
smelly rising of flesh
when she’d come in the morning,
but instead,
sitting up,
swinging my feet down
so they once again touched solid ground,
and did not dance in the air.

I determined to find me there in the morning,
codeine free,
empty,
and willing to deeply drink not drought
but the draughts of
Springville springwater.

If this seems foolish to some,
so probably seemed Xanadu foolish then.

And will someone knock on my door?

A Late Summer Night’s Torrent: Romantic ImproVerse Poetry

I’ve debated if I should post these poems separately, but I decided to post them all together, as a single experience … because that’s what they were. Starting at about 9:30 p.m. the evening of Monday, August 26th, and going until shortly after 4 a.m., I “met” someone on-line. Because she was working, I agreed to write her every 10 minutes, as a process experiment, to see if she was more effective in work because she had something to look forward to.
The following poems (mostly) are a result. (There are some random haiku which happened during that time.)

21:30 p.m.
It’s Not Bad News

It’s always better/
to hear than to be kept in/
silence, wondering.

21:54 p.m.
Good Food! Bad Food!

There is no moral/
Value in food, neither good/
nor bad. It just is.

21:58 p.m.
Who, Me!?!

There once was a match, I thought,/
Whose photos were so incredibly hot!/
With mouth open I gazed/
and was completely amazed/
That it was me whom she sought!

22:03 p.m.
Care To Volunteer?

If she would but choose/
To be my sweet Muse, I’d fill/
her days with Hiaikus.

22:23 p.m.
Dating A Travel Agent

I asked her for a/
free hotel room night, hoping/
she’d spend it with me.

22:28 p.m.
Waiting In The Dark

She waited, alone,/
in the dark for a tender /
heart spark from his phone.

22:58 p.m.
Getting Her Pictures

I thanked her coyly/
for her pictures where she showed/
me all her secrets.

23:00
Cinnamon Rolls

It wasn’t ’til I /
tasted another’s that I/
knew how good she was.

23:08 p.m.
Deadlines

Trying to produce/
under a deadline schedule/
leads to antici…
Or
Trying to produce/
Under a deadline leads to /
Antici…
pation!

23:11 p.m.
Age Interest

She’s 40. So I/
ask: “Why me?” What is it that/
she sees so deeply?

23:15
Photo Phase: Romantic ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku

The photos I gazed/
at put me in a phase that/
I want to stay in.

23:26 p.m
How Often?

Amidst her silence/
I again learn that I’m the/
dunce who never learns.

23:36 p.m.
A Bored Muse

What happens to a /
muse when she gets bored? Does she/
just find another?
Or
…does she /
simply fly away?

23:41 p.m.
Better Than Photos: Romantic ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku

I have to confess/
That it’s your voice and hot breath/
which I like the best.

23:50 p.m.
10 Minute Deadline: Romantic ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku

Oh no! Another/
10 minutes appears on the/
horizon! What then?

00:15 Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Long Pauses And Silence

I always wonder/
about the causes of long/
pauses and silence.

00:35 a.m.
Amazing Verbiage And What’s Next?

Now that we’ve shared some/
amazing verbiage, I’ll ask: /
what is the next step?

00:40 a.m.
Interesting Shutdown

When guys ask questions,/
that means you’re interesting./
Do not shut them down.

00:54
Lighting An Awesome Flame

Who or where is this/
lantern lane that I may light/
her flame of awesome?

1:01 a.m.
Proving My Addiction

She claimed I had an/
addiction. I removed/
myself; proved myself.

1:07 a.m.
False Extensions

She extended her/
pineapple of aloha,/
then hid it away.

1:17 a.m.
Missing Deadlines

I missed my deadline./
Like a stream gone dry, would she/
then cast me aside?

1:35 a.m.
Waiting With Wondering Anticipation

He wondered if her /
anticipation and her/
waiting matched his own.

1:15 a.m.
At Last, An End?

When it appeared she’d/
Tired of the same 10 minute/
Game, he went to sleep.
Or
When through her silence/
it seemed she’d tired of the 10 /
minute scheme, he dreamed.

2:09 a.m.
Lack Of Sleep 1

He couldn’t help it./
She’d caressed his soul and he/
couldn’t go to sleep.

2:20 a.m.
Lack Of Sleep 2

When she touched him this/
Way, he blushed, afraid to say/
just exactly how.

2:29 a.m.
Future Reward

On dating sites, should /
I post photos of me young?/
Think: Resurrection!

2:36 a.m.
Kitchen Dancing

He dreamed simply of/
Holding her in his arms and/
dancing in kitchens.

2:40 a.m.
What She Thought

Truthfully he dreamed/
Of much more, but she thought he/
had high, strong morals.*
Or
* Was a man of class.

2:50 a.m.
Softly Singing

As they dance, he sings/
softly in her eager ears: /
“Fly me to the moon.”

2:56 a.m.
Appropriate Timing

There was much more/
to discuss, but it was too/
early to say it.

OR 3:02 a.m.
There was much more/
to dream on, but it was too/
early to speak it.

3:07 a.m.
The Font

Late night poetry/
poured out of him. It was still/
her he thought about.

3:11 a.m.
She Didn’t Want To Know

He guessed that there were/
probably many things she/
didn’t want to know.

3:21 a.m.
Photo Staring

He thought if he stared/
at her photos long enough/
they’d lodge in his heart.

4:03 a.m.
Waste Not

Was it a waste to/
spend all night writing? Or mere/
creative genius?

4:10 a.m.
Frontal Lobe Loneliness

There’s a void near my/
frontal lobe, where my iPhone kept me company.

4:23 a.m.
Accepting Romance

He felt that she could/
Accept romance. Otherwise/
he’d not have written.

7:46 a.m.
Morning After Anxiety

It’s always the first/
message of the next morning/
that makes me anxious.

Dream Filler: Romantic IMprov Haiku

The question is not:/
“Do i fill your dreams?,” but if/
I’m there when you wake.
OR
The question is not:/
“Do i fill your dreams?,” but: “Am/
I there when you wake?”.