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
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.
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
just a hearty amen and a good ol smile.
And there would be peace.