Improv Poems - Poems about Improv

Poetic reveal, the future of open mic; No dress rehearsal, it will once again express the art and soul of this town. Graveyard fantasy, the zombies woke up on fire; Full of pent up rage aching for a place to roam, a mindless crowd to devour. Flamethrower control, empty heads have been cut off; Hard floor reopened; Now the freethinkers are back to destroy with their improv....

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Sudden undressed rehearsal; Improv, such sensual blocking; Scene erased rewritten in lipstick, alternate ending....

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A single note Just starting with a single note. Drawn to the vibration Then another, ally, companion. These two becoming firm friends As others come to join the fray. Repeating and finding new meaning, Never quite knowing their course Yet their purpose so sure. Allowing the sound to penetrate Lighting the fire in the belly As another note is plucked From obscurity In...

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attempting to tempt temptation i may face damnation if thoughts translate to actions quiet on the set action the thunder clap director yells as lightning lighting catches me sitting on a set of a movie that i know no lines to but i'm supposed to be the lead as i squint my eyes to see the sunrise perhaps that's my cue but not knowing what to do i begin by adlibing a nonesense syllabical soliloquy not quite what you might call babbling but blubbering for i've be come a child again pass ed birth but...

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Thou lay'st like a rose on deaths pillow Silent and still, unsoothed by lifes request Asleep the dawns and days of all and all Eternity. My lovely Juliet Wherefore art thou companions company? Dost thou mockest life? "O my love, my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty" Knows't not you of...

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At first, you compare, like side-by-side metronome tick and tock from (not) you to you and back. At second tick, brick-by-brick are towers built in defense against non-existent foes. A miner's diligence, it takes to dig beneath in roundabout ways; to catch off guard, defenses down. At third tock, through periscopes you peer submerged in oceans never mapped, gone off...

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Acorn hats of wood balanced on each fingertip while giggles spill rich. Felt tip markers draw the eyes in this poor man's puppet show....

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