He’d seen it often./
She, interested, bantered./
He fell overboard.
Tag Archives: working through issues
There’s A Reason: Romantic Email Haiku Lament
I asked her some tough/
questions. I hoped for answers./
She left, got yogurt.
Natural Life Is: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku
When you’re surrounded/
by nature, feeling the flow/
of life, sad happens.
Sliding Glass Door Requiem: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Lament
Oh, goldfinch!
Bright yellow cheer-bringer,
Flash of color
even in winter’s darkest days.
Too late I moved toward
The sliding glass door
Where you would have seen my shadow
And veered away.
Instead:
Thunk.
“Oh no nonono!”
I cry
and reach for you,
fallen,
as your glowing tail feathers
fan out wide
in a blaze of color,
then close as tight
as your dainty feet,
curled.
You are still warm
as I hold you,
tiny,
in the palm of my hand.
Tears well up
as I wait,
hoping.
But your eyes stay open,
fixed and dilated,
and even as I hold you,
admiring your bright gold feathers
and the tiny streaks of red on your breast
that I’ve never noticed before,
you grow cold in my hand.
I place you
tenderly,
at the base of the daffodils
which mimic your radiant glory,
but which,
like you,
are starting to fade away.
Not Grabbing What I Shouldn’t: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku
I once held her close,/
swayed gently. I could have grabbed/
there; glad I didn’t.
Yawp, Find Your Center, Then Do: Revolutionary IMprov Free Verse
Yawp.
Feel.
Find
your divine
center,
You.
Yup.
Yawp.
Then do.
Sunset Yawp: Revolutionary IMprov Iambic Free Verse
I feel
a great deal
of melancholy
folly
going on.
It’s not fun.
But I’ll face the setting sun
and again soulfully yawp
like Uncle Walt
Whitman.
Carpe Diem.
Reflections On At Last Seeing Starlight: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem
To some
it may seem strange,
having heard poets
and troubadours
wax nostalgic
about seeing starlight
reflected
in still
lake waters,
to have never seen
those lights,
those starry nights.
To have never known
what they spoke of,
to have never experienced
the beauty
of doubled diamonds,
some suspended above,
twins shimmering below,
clear and focused,
shining and waving.
Then,
one clear,
crisp
Wisconsin spring evening,
post eye surgery,
walking on a dock
which extended out
past trees
and lights,
and anything,
just he,
after a half a century,
alone,
suspended between
hundreds of glowing orbs,
times two,
at last seeing,
understanding,
recognizing
what others had sung about
and enthused over
and painted
and immortalized.
At last,
he saw.
Some might think it
strange,
and sad,
almost tragic.
“What he missed!”
they may exclaim.
But to him,
at last viewing,
finally comprehending
and feeling
and floating,
expanding his soul
and blending his
diamond tears
with the lake,
and with witnesses
before him,
and his gasp,
breath of adoration
and joy,
with creators like him,
the wait seemed
a small moment,
but so large
in its connective
worth.