Disqualifying Over Children: Revolutionary IMprov Email Poetry

“Do you want children?” the question asked.
Over that small detail I’m taken to task?

Would I like them in her house?
Would I like them with her X-spouse?
Would I like them in her room?
Would I like them in her womb?
Would I like them here or there?
Would I like them anywhere?

Where I’d like them, I could not know!
I just try to go with the flow!
And I decry ambiguity.
At least, it seems that way to me.

For if I, to that question, say “No!”,
then women with children could turn and go,
as would women, certainly,
who were waiting, mothers-to-be.

But I’d not exclude them for that choice.
Being good partners means both have a voice.
And thus, the answer of open/uncertainty,
seems to fit, I think, the openness of me.

Thank you. I’m glad you listened;
and now my poem is at an end.

Except for this small thought before I part:
Wouldn’t you like a man whose heart,
soul, and mind
are open, generous, giving, and kind?
Who won’t disqualify before he starts?

Power Of Words: Revolutionary IMprov Poetry

Words can
be
powerful.
Damaging.
Magical.
Wonderful.

Those words
are not
“our word,”
but instead,
our words:
Those that we say
and write
right.

Those words
are also heard
in our heads.

Always ready.
Already steadily
knowing.

Though verbose,
I am not
a master of words.

They are my tools,
at times.
But other times
they scream so loudly
in my head
that they unravel,
unnerve,
weaken,
and destroy me.

To become a master
of words,
I must become the master
of my word-thoughts.