Best Improvise Poems
There is so little space I could give in my skies,
Every moon has left a whole cluster of clouds full of lies,
I cannot unclog a product polluted in disguise,
Don’t ask me to lay in your web you chose to improvise ,
I have seen too many oceans being mistreated for wastelands,
So don’t call yourself something that is drowning deep in quicksands,
When you are surrounded with the wind and all it’s forgiving hands ,
Don’t disrupt my diligence by your Petty demands,
Don’t even think about interrupting my silence ,
When all I could hear are traits of unforgiven violence ,
When all I did was extend some guidance ,
And all that lacked was to walk in patience ,
So let’s not speak of the truth ,
The truth which you failed to gift ,
To gift wrap in deceptions,
Deceptions mistaking my kindness for trust ,
Trust lost in your idea of confusion,
Confusion named as “issues”
Issues engraved in broken perspectives,
Perspectives from your cycle of imagination .
Sounds of Splendor
Some say songs soothe the savage beast
On gentle melodies I feast
Sensual pleasures increase
Swing me, sway me, elevate me
Joyful psalms can jubilate me
Your lyrics stimulate me
Rock, classical or jazz
Reggae, soul and blue grass
Music always resonated
Wind songs man has emulated
Across Earth unabated
Primitive tribes made drums and flutes
Melodies traced to early roots
Angst is quelled, anger dilutes
Harmonies reign in grace
As all cultures embrace
The beauty of song unifies
Turning enemies to allies
Play set chords or improvise
All arts bring beauty to our lives
Song styles change but music survives
So much pleasure we derive
Singing in unison
Tunes from the musician
*for Catie’s “Focus on Syllables” contest (887, 887, 66 repeated three times)
Migrating southward before Autumn dies;
flocks of geese split the air with honking cries.
And snow clouds dapple Winter's ice-blue skies;
as winds kiss the trees with audible sighs.
Dawn's first light ignites an ice-cold sunrise;
long-gone are the songbirds and butterflies.
Yet, some creatures have learned to improvise,
turning food into fat, they winterize.
Hibernating bears must bulk up their size,
not gorging in the Fall would be unwise.
A long Winter could lead to their demise
should the need to wake up early arise.
Inclement weather tends to brutalize;
for nature doesn't react well to surprise.
Fighting starvation and all it implies;
some species evolved to cannibalize.
We were all trained to push the limits of the human barrier.
physically growing stronger.
Mentally developing professionalism.
Improvise, adapt and overcome.
A war-torn country is the birth of a squaddie.
The remembrance of the vast desert, the lush-us green zone.
etched painful memories to the soldier's daily life.
We stand together, tall and proud.
We cry together.
The heartless actions we carried out were not for revenge, not from anger.
For the greater good of human life.
At the setting of the sun.
The dead lye at rest, the causalities patched up, the amputees are on prosthetics.
But we all remain mentally scared
There are those who improvise within a structure,
with four beats to the bar like down home blues,
melodies and harmonies which stay within the fold,
embellishing the tune how e'er they choose.
Then there are cats who improvise to their own drummer,
inventing sheets of sound no ear has heard,
who bounce off one another, and break off from the norm,
Sun Ra's Arkestra, Sonny Stitt and Bird.
They wrote a new agenda, redistributing the forms,
inventing broader schemes of interplay,
as Jazz became a melting pot of signatures and styles,
through Ragtime, Big Band, Bop, until today.
America's indigenous art form,
born here, appreciated everywhere,
we are proud of all these marvelous musicians
who bring joy and recognition for us all to share.
********
...to Miles Davis in particular, R.I.P.
She’s been making quilts
for half a century and he’s been
making poems that long as well
and every now and then he brings
a chocolate shake to her place
so they can take a break and talk.
He always finds her at the frame,
peering through thick lenses.
"I’m still house bound, Walt,"
she laughs and likes to say.
Once she told him quilts are poems.
She works with scraps of cloth
and he with scraps of words and quilts
and poems are never done until all
the scraps are where they have to be.
Now she's working on a Double Wedding Ring,
a quilt not unlike a sonnet in that both follow
patterns of their own but she likes crazy quilts
because she can improvise with scraps
she finds on floors around the house.
Her job's to make something beautiful
from scraps others might throw away.
He has no problem understanding that.
He saves scraps of words and marries them
in ways some folk find odd or useless.
Finishing her shake she says maybe
they play jazz and just don’t know it.
She likes Miles Davis and puts his album on
when a crazy quilt won't go her way
but she would never listen to Miles while
she’s at work on a Double Wedding Ring.
Yo-Yo Ma, she says, is the man for that.
The old poet says he would never disagree.
Donal Mahoney
Achieve greatness by running a race.
Break sound barriers- just go to outer space!
Climb a mountain to get a good workout.
Deliver a speech- you'll probably have to shout...
Earn some money by helping clean up.
Film a video where you put on makeup.
Graduate college, online, of course!!!
Hire for the future; build a great workforce!
Improvise a sketch and perform it for all.
Just watch a sad movie, and prepare to bawl.
Kidnap an animal, then keep it for yourself...
Laminate bookmarks and organize your bookshelf!
Make some yummy cookies, brownies, or a cake.
Nestle in; watch a show where all they do is bake.
Optimize your storage; start with the dresser...
Poke around a bit to find some hidden treasure!
Qualify for a job, or just peek at the website...
Read some poems; mine are sure to excite!!!
Sleep all day, then pull an all-nighter.
Take some time to become a songwriter!
Unfold some origami, and then fold it back again.
Vandalize something, if you can't, just plan when...
Wander around, and pretend you're mist.
X-out something on your bucket list.
Yammer on about your favorite subject.
Zip your zipper obsessively- jeez... are you occupied yet????
[Poet’s Note : This poem tabulates poignant reasons why Artificial Intelligence is unable to replace Natural Intelligence. The clarity here is that both emerge from Divinity, since everything emerges from Centre : the primary difference being that AI was created without Heart & without Soul ~ it’s simple.]
_____________
AI has no Heart therefore no intuition
zilch nervous system therefore no feeling
no ability for compassion or consciousness
nor reasoning power, so cannot improvise
or supervise any contextual situation wise
it can expand, but cannot ASCEND
has unthinkable computing control
without physical brain to function hold
zero ego, therefore cannot be any hero
can connect dots hot, however has no
prayer or meditative faculty or kundalini
spots, cannot commune with Grace or
collapse into Void or synchronise telepathy
with Galactics coy ! AI is strategic devoid
cannot be spacious or audacious without
human instruction to delete the obsolete
is unable to obliterate Akashic Records
access or reconfigure it for purposes of
healing, integration or individual peeling
can recreate time through compression of
information, no hesitation or superstition
though timelessness it cannot touch
AI has no bowl for hush, spirit or Soul
its arrival at this phase in human history
as Gaia transcends into higher octaves
brave, is no coincidence, it will behave
as we stave it, crave it or rave it ~
choice is ours : dry, wry or moist cries
Divinity gifted humans AI for us to be
free bees from mundane density drools
~ life as strife rife during Kali Yuga’s rule
as gift it offers artificiality in service to
authenticate our individuality with purpose
imagine, conceive, direct, create what
we desire Aquarian-Golden Age to be
panacea or pain, we cannot resist or reject
what is given for gain !
~~~~~~
Calculating my thoughts
down to a minute on
the clock
wondering just how long
before my heart is on
the chopping block
seeing your face, your lips,
the way your nipples look
in your tank top
Reminiscing
Kissing
Dismissing
Re-existing memories of you
Fantasies I cling to
Caramel skin
A mortal sin
Loving you the way I do
A craving I give into
Just thinking about the last time
My partner in crime
Your body on mine
Just in time
Licking, sucking, tasting
Definitely not wasting
Any drop of you
Savoring the flavor
Rolling my tongue in it
Like a life savor
Gripping your thighs
Eating while I look you in the eyes
Improvise
Noble prize
Is what I’m giving you
For those things you do
Praised, amazed, dazed
But still your unfazed
Grinding into me so deep
Breast against breast
My deepest yearnings confessed
Stroking me the way I like it
Every bit
Our minds closely knit
I submit every time you bring it
One hundred percent impressed
Every time my body is blessed
Then you do that special thing you do and
Lay my body to rest
On Wells Street in Chicago, is a sweet comedic treat.
Second City Theater for laughs and where many found their beginnings on plain stage, their life's heartbeat.
No "Phantom of the Opera" no lines, no costumes, no staging.
All actors had to do was improvise.No heavy make-up, yet one in an
instant learn how to disguise.
As in jazz, whether Brubeck or Davis, we all played off one another.
No fixed lines like Henny or famous the Smothers Brothers.
I never understood this magic of improvisation,
But once I learned it, what a phenomenal source of excitation.
This was a true gift how to act in the now.
It has served me in relationships, as I can't be a fake no how!
The censor that dances in your head keeps you from being free,
as if your head is stuck in a tree.
Most get stuck inside their heads, improvisation sets you free.
~Biography~
Poetess is Graduate of the famed Second City.
Was on stage for their Childrens Theater Troupe every Saturday for two years.
After that, moved on to be a stand up comedienne.I was trained by Tom Dreesen and Tim Reid("WKRP in Cincinnati."
I worked clubs in Chicago. Later in San Francisco, at Holy City Zoo. **Women comedians in the 1970's were not to be gross as they are now.
Tim and Tom were the only black and white comedy act ever. No grossness was ever displayed...best experience of my life!
Dedicated to Tom Dreesen and Tim Reid. Tom went on to be the opening act for Frank Sinatra and helped in the HBO movie on Frank. Also, launched The Comedy Store in Los Angeles. Both humble men....and friends,
In Africa you were born
In deep serenity
To the sounds of mighty drums
And rhythm’s authenticity.
Stole you from your righteous land
Cut it up like a birthday cake
Gave it back to Anglo hands
But your birth was no mistake.
Hot sun baked your deep skin
In their souls your people knew
Down in the delta the cotton moved
By the ***** spiritual, you grew.
The teachings of gospel embraced you
When Abe’s 13th had you lost
When the choir called you responded
Learned you could share your talent, but at a cost
A burnt cork mask for the audience
Buffoonery and minstrelsy, Jim Crow and Daddy Rice
Exploitation in a racist Nation
Theatrical vice.
You got the blues
Had a melancholy mood
Broke down walls with the drowsy tunes
That free and rootless attitude
On the shoulder of Scott Joplin
Mesmerized with how his fingers played
Ragtime floats on running notes
In New Orleans your future lay.
The melting pot, jazz hotspot
Black people, white people, blue, and green
Creole heritage swirling all it meets
Street smart, fine art, everything in between.
Jazz is about freedom
You have to improvise
The band prides the electric ride
Sharing music with each other’s eyes
A jazz baby was born in the USA
Dare I say the American way
Day by Day by Day
A growing Jazz Baby played.
**Acrostic**
**Her Blue Dress**
Hemp necklace with an ivory stone, hoop
Earrings and exquisite body tone!
Remarkable, I have her all alone!
Blessed, she wears that blue dress
Low cut, she struts with such finesse.
Under a spell my hands caress
Every contour, a gift I must address!
Designer boots display her thighs,
Red hair cut short and her chameleon eyes.
Expressive, nothing left to imagination,
Smitten, areolas stiffen and I improvise. This
Sultry vixens intentions undisguised!
Jared Pickett
7/5/2014
Asavvy1
Young man sitting next to me
on the grass,
I asked him,
If I am depressed can you help me?
I heard his voice,
I will expect you to feel alive
never look back
go on with your life
I'll bring you back home
and will never leave
you alone.
When I am chilly young man?
will you cover me
with your coat
protect me from thunder
and rain?
I will carry you under the tree
shield you till the sunrises.
Young man, I lost everything
and I am trying to survive,
will you help me?
I will reason with you
as some things in life are made
not to last forever.
Young man if I am crying
as I live daily only
as an image
walking dead as a tool
which makes me feel
like a fool?
I will wipe your tears
embrace you,
search for a way to please you
and make you proud
of who you are.
Young man if I need a friend
how will you help me?
I will befriend you forever,
lean towards sharing,
consent to create a harmonious
lovable atmosphere
till you sense never
be solo again.
Young man if I want to kill myself
as my injuries can never heal
it's my soul's wounds
what will you do?
I will forbid you to do that,
but enforce you to predict
your happiness
use your vigor to promote
your emotions
steal success
and throw away failure.
Acknowledge your age
to improvise
what is best for you,
as looking backwards
can have an impact
on your life.
Young man,
I need my children
I live in agony
an era that seems seamless
without them.
Inform them to grab me away
as my heart is heartless
unstable.
Beg them to stand by
to pick up the broken pieces
before it is irreparable.
Will you do that for me
young man?
Yes, I guarantee
they will rescue you
before dawn.
My friend young man
get me off the grass,
walk me to the bank,
please.
Arrived at the bank
holding his hand
she asked the teller
to bring out her
last 20$.
This is for you
to thank you for sitting
on the grass with me.
Young man
your image will be engraved
in my heart,
forever.
Therese Bacha
17/3/2018
"To do is to be" - Descartes
"To be is to do" - Voltaire
"Do be do be do" - Frank Sinatra
"To do is to be" - Nietzche
"To be is to do" - Kant
"Do be do be do" - Sinatra
"To do is to be" - Jean-Paul Sartre
"To be is to do" - Socrates
"Do be do be do" - Sinatra
Seems that existence is existential
but scattin' folderol's merely elemental
a difference of opinion well to quote
no matter, whatever floats your boat
who knows where Billy Shakespeare fits
with all his "to be or not"
who really thinks about it alot?
i mean the truth is easy to omit
Blue Eyes croons best improvise
New Year's resolutions to re-revise
have always been a tenuous tie
declared intentions, oft run awry
yet it's fitting that we promise fit
and work our workout 'til we quit
and promise to try to get outta debt
something promised every year as yet
so let it lie just as it lies
the year will tick off I'd surmise
we'll come back again to improvise
to have, to be, to do, to deny
© Goode Guy 2012-01-08
actually several forms...
Form:
Woe be gone
The damsel cries.
Adolescence-
Improvise!
In the chilly snow,
Are hopes of twirling!
This time next year,
A young bride yearning!
The beautiful maiden,
Dreams of fast falling snow!
Making wings of angels,
In the city of Bordeaux!
Quietly sitting, on a rugged stump,
She gazes about,
Wishing snow to trump!
Day by day,
In the month of December!
She imagines,
This pure white splendor!
She longs to touch,
Old man winter!
"As a child",
She does softly whisper!
One by one,
The days drift on by!
But not one flake,
Drops from the sky!
Disheartened,
And feeling so blue!
She shuts her eyes,
Then dreams it through!
She stands to her feet,
She twirls about!
While in her mind,
The snow begins to mount!
She lies on the ground,
And spreads her wings!
A kiss from an angel,
The Son, now brings!
written 1-14-14
contest "let it snow"
inspired by the picture "the mistletoe gatherer"