Improv poems

Our family created some improv poems on Christmas eve.  A "prompt" was suggested, and we had 5 minutes to come up with something. Turned out to be better than caroling. Here a few of the pieces that emerged for me.  The prompt/titles are in bold.

                                           The first wish you can remember

 I was a little boy and I wanted to be my mother’s hero.

A spring day. 

She’s standing on the porch

in front of our apartment house

with her spring coat on. 

There she was in her coat

with her hair up

looking out at the apartment courtyard.

I saw her there

when I came out of our apartment. 

I had put on the belt with my cap pistol

in the holster strapped to my leg

and drew out the pistol. 

Then I walked out onto the porch

and put my arm around the bottom of her dress. 

I couldn’t reach higher.

I was there to make sure she was safe. 

She felt me and looked down at me and smiled.



Once upon, once upon a mirror I look into

but cannot get beyond.

I see just my front

I cannot get behind no matter what I do. 

I want to stop this world

to crash the surface of the mirror. 

My thoughts can’t get around the surface. 

I am trapped in not seeing beyond, around, inside. 

Its just the apparent

the surfaces of things. 

I’m just a reflection of what I see

never more.

There is meaning there beyond this surface

but I am trapped with me

as I see me now

and fool myself into contentment

I try to not find mirrors

because what will be there

is only what is easy to see

what I have agreed to go on with.


Power play

Who plays with power? 

No one admits they do

but don’t we all love it

wouldn’t we all love to do it nakedly

not be sly about it

just have our way and have everyone love it.

Do it because I said so

and nobody feels bad about it; they say

Wow.  Yeah. You the man

so glad you had that better idea.

Feels so good to have you do that.

Takes less time than thinking it through myself. 

And it don’t matter if it’s a sandbox game or a country. 

You got the power

and everyone loves you for it. 

What could be better than that

except maybe to lie down in the summer shade

with a little bowl of cool watermelon balls and a tall glass of ice water.


Come all ye faithful

What if all the faithful came

not like in being here

but like in having an orgasm, at the same time?

They’d be in the temple or the church or mosque

and all of them

would suddenly be seized with the desire to blast off. 

Rub a dub dub all the faithful in a tub. 

Not prayin, but playin

with their privates

and as they got closer to the magic moment

they’d all be getting there at the same time,

they’d start breathin as one

and getting more deep breathin

and then they all’d let er rip

all at the same time. 

They wouldn’t wipe it up afterwards

no shame

just a hearty amen and a good ol smile.

And there would be peace.