Best Ad Lib Poems


In the Mornin'

In The Mornin'

(Chorus)
I will see you in the mornin'
When this long night has flown away

There was a time when I was young
When life had only just begun
And lookin' back I'm glad that I was born then.

A simple time and slower pace
Until the day I saw her face
Then everything was changed without a warnin'.
(Chorus)
I will see you in the mornin'
When this long night has flown away

She took me captive from the start
But swore she'd never break my heart
And magic wove a web of love and more then.

She made me laugh. She made me cry
But always was my alibi 
Through thick and thin regardless of the stormin'...
(Repeat Chorus)

Then late one night these fourty years
Went flashing in a flood of tears.
I held her close and heard her whisper "Yours", then.

She closed her eyes. I wiped the tears.
Then one last time to ease my fears
She whispered out these words in sweet adorin'...
(Chorus)
I will see you in the mornin'
When this long night has flown away
I will see you in the mornin'
As the dawn breaks another day...

(Chorus--repeat ad lib to end)

©deborah burch
1.31.2013


(To the tune of Hallelujah)

Premium Member Sun Ra Rockets To Mars

Sun RA Rockets to Mars/Tony Adamo/2000

Sun Ra  rockets to Mars/ landing with his Arkestra by way of his supersonic  jazzhip ship/
The red dust be a  flyin’ below his dancen’ feet/
The heliocentric  world of Sun Ra  comes to the red planet

Sun Ra is a true jazzophonic citizen and the first musician to probe deep space/
He is a high tech hitchhiker among the stars with knowledge of the heavens above taken  from the Egyptian pyramids below/
SING BRIDGE
Get on board the Sun Ra space cruiser/
Get on board we’ll travel the space ways together/
Get on board for bebop, jazz and beyond/
Dig the flight with Sun Ra leading  the way/

Message from Sun Ra calling from  Saturn and the milky way/
Message from” sonny”/
I’ve long left my earthly ways at Delmark,ESP,Saturn and Black Saint records/
My free jazz spacealicous music can be heard in between the layers of cosmic space to the galactic beyond 
I bring you the healing force of the universe/
Space is the place



Oh yeah man talkin bout Sun Ra
The first space cruiser  to dig outer space
That cat was beyond heavy
We don’t even know if he was born on this planet earth
 Sun-Ra the first space cruiser to dig outer space
The first galactic man

See that sun  a shinnin’
Right in back of your face
Sun-Ra space is the place
Yeahh Sun Ra doin his thing  now
That creazy kind of  galactic  tripped out music
Bumpin  ya  rollin  ya
ad lib vamp out (sing)Space is the place
Words from Tony Adamo’s CD,Miles of Blu
© Tony Adamo  Create an image from this poem.

Alpha Mnemonic

"Alpha Mnemonic"



Word
Image
without the image
no word

Language
a disease
communicable 
by mouth

Alpha from brain
Omega passed 
on her tongue
to yours

Ancient codex
genetically kissed
dispersed with
music intonation

gutteral 
romantic
cerebral 
never rehearsed

language
a virus formed
Mnemonic
from where exactly,

Within? 

ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum 

from somewhere
other birthed
codex ancient
Alpha alien

genetic
hive driven
we are observed
writhing in our smalls

amphibian brained
we are still
loud embryos
clashing and clinging

unjust 
we are

just learning exotic 
movements 
within our
blue pitri plate

circular in motion 
we are agitated
not calm, chasing long versed
pre-recorded, re-rehearsed tales

a breath blown over us
language divides us
in love and belief
a disease 

we are
we think
we speak
we spread 

our languages

communicable 
by eyes that 
envision dreams 
of others within 

we are not knowing
with clandestined
futures and 
over-ripe mouths

to succour
we simulate

ad lib
ad lucem
ad libitum

sensual 
cold
science
hot and feverish

we lie 
in bed 
with irreverent
romantic fate

Omega
ohm resistant 
high voltage
across the conductor

Always equal
Metaphors of unity
become 
the Sequel

Blissfully ignorant

Ripe Red currents
juiced up and
Blue buries itself 
warm palmed 
on a soft beating breast

Ideology and 
Romance
arrive 
late

Memory
lost in the
Alpha  
Mnemonic

Stuck in 
the warm
and sticky 
we grow cold



(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)




"Language is a Virus" / Laurie Anderson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hIOnODxUTZQ


The Continuing Saga of Adam and Eve

The Story of Adam and Eve
Is all well and good and fine,
It marks the frailties of each sex
Without really trying.

First of all it shows the Love of our Creator,
The One, the Good, the True, the Beautiful,
And the deviousness of the Hater.
Antithesis of Love and Justice; a traitor.

The story of Adam and Eve 
Is all well and good and fine.
It marks the frailties of each sex
Without really trying.

In our selfish disobedience
we are the very same today,
In our sinful expedience
to get our own way.

Adam was created first,
the woman as an ad lib.
Because Adam was lonely for his own kind
God formed her from his rib.

Well, they were doing just fine
Until one day the serpent said “Eve
You want to be like God, I believe.”
She said yes that would be fine.

So she gave Adam a tempting plausible line,
And he apathetically joined in the sinful crime.
Didn’t want to make any waves, you know,
After all he had his seeds to sow.

And so we see how they fared
Still, woman always shooting for control
The man timid and scared.
The snake laughing in his hole.

So men, before you succumb to so called feminists
and both sexes spend eternity crying…
Remember, ..God  only gave her your rib…
so please,.. take back your spine.

Where Art Sisyphus

Tis quite a beast of burden to bear atlas (shrug off not allowed)
Atlas shrugged an impossibility
tantamount to skinny dipping in the lock nest lagoon

Tantamount to shrugging Atlas off mine bony, 
   ill suited, widower wizened shoulders, 
would take naked fat chance in Fountain Head of virgin waters, 
   eddy fied with huge boulders 
which preliminary sketches to maintain pristine 
   (pure as Snow White's booty) kept in folders

when collaborative effort called, the fore mid able, 
   trio, sans state of the artists 
   (within their respective trades as writer
   fictional hero, and architect) 
   Ayn Rand, John Galt, and Howard Roark, 

   who undertook resplendent measures 
   affected resilient as omnipotent cable
   tub ring plenti kickstarting linkedin gatecrashers   
   to a snapchatting halt 
   instagramming, crowdsourcing, crowdfunding, 
   held at equivalent asper Bay of Pigs
   viz Pay of Bigs 

   (in this context identified as  
   (vudu trained stalwarts, petsmart outlook, 
   incorporating literary, metaphorical,   
   nautical staff comprising fable
sea Crete cure metamorphoses abilities, as failsafe method – 
   i.e., physically, instantaneously, architecturally rendering
   modus operandi capacity asper quick as blazing saddles
   (ponied up by young Frankenstein) 
   kept in fireproof stable,

   where at dextrous fingers ala hocus-pocus prestidigitation 
   which chiefly buoyantly ardently, and hardily drafted imp pier re: hull 
   rock hull impediment for shore also cast evil spells should 
   any foolish soul, who dared 
   to maneuver past the near blinding pier sing redoubt
   to access blue lagoon like watery oasis 
   shielded via reeking poor Island 
   (where an atomic rooster gargoyle shrouded parapet)
   buffeted the crashing waves against 
   the lock smooth as a glass table

whose wooden sea legs solidly affixed 
   to hip, hip hooray three chairs
inviting two story book heroes plus the author,  
   unfurling parchment scriptural roles invited ad lib flairs
since threat of category five hurricane 
 manifested took writer by surprise,

   thus requiring her to utilize cognitive gears
which necessitated modification of original plot,
   now bumped credos with religion 
   vis a vis engendering prayers.

One For the Road (Or, Redneck Piggly Wiggly

At precisely 6:45 each morning
the house, it starts to shake
I don't need a clock
Oh no, for godness sake...

Big Ol' Redneck Piggly Wiggly
goes roaring off to war
I thing I'd rather listen
To seven people snore
His truck must use a jet-engine
And top grade jet fuel too
Just where he works I wonder
But i think I have a clue
When he comes home I 
go just as insane...
He roars in like a 747
Landing on that tiny landing lane

Lumberjack?  Hunter on attack?
Construction worker who needs no tool.
I'm sure he could lift a jetliner
Or maybe I'm again the fool

I'm rather sure, I swear
I'd bet my derriere
No Maitre' D is he...
No Physicist do I there see
Not an MD, mailman, or
salesman...unless he sells
chopped wood...
Maybe a Moonshiner perhaps,
Now that'd be oh so good

I'm ashamed to talk this way
Cause I'm no dandy either
Imagine what he'll say
Of me, no I can't either...

Don't judge a TV show
By critics who critique
They often don't really know
And I guess that's not  unique
They've never watched I know
Just ad-lib it as they go...
I think I'd better end
this silly, silly rhyme
I don't know why I do it
I just do it all the time

I hope you're not too mad
If I seem to have a cause,..mm...mm
And that I didn't  show myself
to be one with adnauseam...
© Tom Bell  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Like a Big Brother

Dropped ad lib in foreign terrain
Not knowing a word of English
It was called ‘learn fast, sink or swim’

You smiled when I first looked at you
Offered to be my translator
Almost too pleased to be helpful

You came on a little too strong
I was uncommonly bashful
You somewhat a bit of a nerd

You kept watching from afar
Became my tacit comfort zone
I truly took you for granted

But honestly, what did I know
We were only kids in fifth grade



AP: 2nd place 2021

Off the Cuff

I roll these words in the mere moment
    off the cuff....
    without posy (prims)
    to say hello,
    (ad-lib is the Lion)
A Beggar in the mud....
    for a lighter brush;
    with less darkness in verse,
She has fallen....
    from grace,
    I shudder ---- 
    how wan the dying rose!
Her petals lilt,
    (my wings plucked with shadow.....)
    I've given all, but not enough,
    love is absolute(ly)..... 
    without delay in affection
I shall try to return with a rainbow 
    or two....




**(Wrote this 'off the cuff' for lack of material....)

Within the Realm of a Dream

Note: The author has a tentative melody as well as the arrangement of the song. However, a musician or a professional recording musician may happen to come across this piece of writing, i shall be glad to offer this a collaborative piece whenever the artistic contribution is suited to the author's preference. Please send demo. 

Intro: random sound of children running; playing; singing 

Chorus: 
We are the remnants of the ages 
And the off springs of the dawn; 
Facing realities of the new day 
Within the realm of a dream. 

I. 
I hear the voices of the past 
As they echoed down my spine. 
Beckoning me to move onward 
Like an amber of a dying flame. 

II. 
I saw a silhouette at a distant 
But I can't figure what it was 
My clue was blurred with confusion 
But there's a voice I can barely grasp. 

Repeat Chorus: 

III. 
There are faces of strangers 
As I have not known a long-time friend 
They have come as generation 
In which I feel I do belong. 

IV. 
We utter in many voices 
But we're blended for a song 
A song of joy, love, and freedom 
From which our music got its tune. 

Repeat Chorus: 
Ad Lib: 
Repeat 3rd and 4th stanzas 
Repeat chorus twice then fade. 

Author: Jecon B. Nadela 
Date and time of writing: 
15 November 2013 ; 1:10pm - 2:22pm 

Typhoon Yolanda has just devastated our neighbor island in the Philippines leaving thousands homeless and starving. The death toll was estimated to over ten thousand.  There was chaos and disorganization.  I, too, was confused of what to write as I already have written poems about nature's wrath, sufferings, or compassion . It must be that I have a mental block or maybe the urge to write was blown away too as we're  preoccupied with the news and the humanitarian endeavor we are trying to be a part of to aid the victims in the devastated islands.

Today my 9-year old son and his uncle instructor are sitting by the keyboard again for practice. I can sense the excitement as they reviewed the piano chords. With a smile he asked, can you also write songs Papa? I said, I have tried some and maybe I can try again for you and for your sisters and cousins to sing with you in the chorus. And the idea of children singing in chorus brought to my mind the lines of this song.

The Critic

I’m leader of a Bluegrass Band
A tough critic watches each show
She’s always out there listening
Hears goofs that others never know
 
No reviews in the Newspaper
But after the show, when I’m home 
My wife always gives her review
Caught it all, like a fine tooth comb

She’s heard all of the songs practiced
And knows how they sound when they’re right
She’s heard the harmony singing
Can tell when the harmony’s tight

But as M C, I do ad Lib 
My Critic never has a clue
The few jokes I tell on the stage
She’s never heard, they’re always new

Quaker Lake, Ny

Lightening bugs flash, 
like the worn celluloid images of old movies,
I sit beneath a great Greta Garbo moon.
I am the heroine of this short.
The dew point drops,
Mists rise.
Crickets chirp.
Muskwats buzz.
Loons ululate and wail.

My dialogue,
The click and whir of my spinning reel.
The glug-glug-glug of the Hula Popper lure.
To prepare for the climax,
Bring out the proven method acting.
I taste the dirt on my fingers,
Licking and twisting monofilament.
The savory sign of night-crawler trails.
Add the bobber, the weight.
I smell the algae and rotting leaves.
The sweet stew of the lake.
My nose tingles from the life motes it captures.
I cast. 

This night, I ad-lib.
There never was a script,
No stupid fish.
Fade to Me,
The Garbo moon,
Clever fish,
Loon interlude.
© Judy Haas  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Return To Neighborhood Iii

RETURN TO NEIGHBORHOOD III

Where kids had the run-o’-the-place
Noisy
Dirty
Smelly brats
In-and-out
Everywhere!
Like a shot!
There was imagination.
Games ad lib
A terrible    wonderful use of neighborhood
An awful    rollicking use of the day
Where a poor aproned mom must scrub and scrub
The tub on Saturday nights
No begging a child to go to bed
Hell! He fell asleep at the dinner table
There were bed-wetters
Nose pickers
Clothesline-tent revealings
All secret explorations not even the adult will 
    admit to

I blush in shame for just a minute or two
Oh    I fit so furtively    so sweaty    red-faced young

Eloquent Delinquent and the Tedium of the Long Hand Form

The curse of verse, at worst subversive,
Cursive, ad lib, tragic,
The means defines scenes, supreme beings let off steam,
Beauty queens daydream of magic.

Sense of place, being part of the tribe,
Strangers for whom, in that moment, we'd die,
Hypnotised by the lies, 
Buy the lies, Buy Buy BUY.

They say that language makes these creatures noble,
(Though global, antisocial music mogul has you at his disposal)
And whilst it can be, I fully agree, 
I put this to thee and hope ye can see.

With that in mind, defence of rhyme, a light to shine, to reassign
Must be a risky business, this vision, this mission,
Spitting on tradition
Commission with precision and wisdom, not premonition.

T'other condition of these lines, repetitions are declined,
Treating then as being malign or as a sign that you're not try'n'
Language naturally evolves, as new issues need resolved
And the duty on us all is to adopt this protocol.

So be counted, 
Stand up tall, 
I'm saying employ your wherewithal

Because in fact it's vital, survival of the fittest
Evolution overlooks and observes the dying witless
The rival is the other witness,
Seeing his rivals diminish.

That that is, and ever was, once wasn't,
And is will be a was because it Doesn't..

Spring

As new buds told old petals to forget
For whatever reasons between seasons, we met
I to take my hound for a bound in the park
You, to the zoo with your son before dark

And he, like a bee to a new-flowered tree
Saw the dog, I saw you and then you saw me
And while your begat was besmat with my pet
I asked for your name, you did same, so we met

No instance romance no ad-lib dance or report
Just a mellow hello and a smile of a sort
But our hearts with his darts, Cupid had shotten
And my hound could've drowned, and your begotten, forgotten!

Premium Member Farewell To All

On mountaintops I’d sing the verses of my poetry 
under the umbrella of a starry night’s full moon
stand at a podium overlooking the vast blue sea
in foreign tongues half ad lib and half reciting

I’d stand up tall and clear my voice 
so I could project as loud as loud can be
I’d find the words to move both earth and sea
as well as depths of every human heart and soul

I’d talk of love sympathy and kinship
a lot about peace and compassion
I’d promote the many healing benefits
of forgiveness and understanding

I’d dig deep to portray the imagery
that would move mankind to tears
I’d find a way like never done before
to propel my witty rhymes emphatically

I’d aim to capture life in all its glory
wisely encapsulate bold message
scattered by every earthly wind
for it to travel over land and sea

If all goes according to my plan
the universe would be rid of wars
cruel bitterness and disillusion
no more hurts or disappointments

My epic poem of everlasting love
would be my heartfelt legacy
launched to you the world from me 
a most extravagant display of fireworks
while checking out I’d curtsy left and right
and to all bid a fond adieu ~



Read on air by invitation  ~  April 14, 2021  'WORDS & MUSIC'

AP: 3rd place 2021

Submitted on March 20, 2022 for contest YOUR PEACE MESSAGE TO THE WORLD sponsored by ANOUCHEKA GANGABISSOON  -  RANKED 1ST

on July 17, 2020 for contest IF THIS WAS MY LAST POETRY CONTEST POEM sponsored by SILENT ONE  -  RANKED 1ST

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