Who do I write about?
You know they’re about you.
You may outwardly doubt
but gaze my verse through.
You may argue
and not believe what I say.
I know that you
can’t watch yourself play.
You may deride
and hold my words in derision
and may cast them aside
because you don’t see my vision.
You may not see you that way, but I do.
No matter what you say, my vision is true.
It settles like a/
heavy pool but you release/
it with a few words.
As surely as the /
[noun, 1 syllable]][verb, 1 syllable] to the [adjective, 1 syllable][noun, 1 syllable], /
so shall you find [noun 1 syllable].
OR
/so you’ll find [noun, 2 syllables].
OR
you’ll find [noun, 3 syllables].”
What should have been a/
goo moment was turned into/
muck by poor word choice.
Because I forgot/
lunch, I shall feast only on/
your words and be filled.
How long
must I longingly
wait long
for you to longingly
long
for me to be long
and belong?
To be a poet,/
to wield words wonderfully,/
is awe inspiring.
Moments of awe: Suns /
set. Moons rise. You touch me. Oft,/
I can find no words.
My niece has a Facebook page and website called “The Shine Project”. (also at www.myshineproject.com). Today she asked readers to comment on what we were doing to “Be the Change We Want to See in the World”. In response, I wrote this summary of what I’d done to “Be the Change”. Then I improv’d this blogging rhyming haiku:
This morning I wrote (again) in my blog (cyranowriter.wordpress.com). Since the Inauguration, when I started my goal of writing a prose or poem thought a day, I’ve written more than 2500 pieces. I’ve discovered my voice. More importantly, I’ve helped others “Shine” by encouraging them to discover THEIR writing and creative voices.
You have your own voice./
Today, and daily, make the/
choice. Have your words heard.
OR
make the/
choice to have it heard.
Fill is a middle-aged wordsmith who wasted his passion for words writing romance poetry to a too-busy, analytical wife and making up non-scensical, Sesame Street-type rhymes to amuse his now-grown children.
When divorce and an empty nest let him consider other options, he makes up a cheap Lucy Van Pelt-like sign, “The Improv Poet is IN!”, stands on street corners, and does poetic, usually iambic commentary on people passing by.