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Kewayne Wadley Jan 2020
Growth takes time.
Not every seed takes off running.
Every now & then
Even seeds can trip over their shoes.
It makes the difference when you
Can take the time to stop & notice
As well as continue to walk
Until falling face first.
I've never known a man to die from
Tripping over their shoes.
But I've known men to improvise
Until they learned to tie their shoes
I've also known men to tie knots in their shoes
and still can't get them loose
No matter how hard they try
Sumaira Asghar Aug 2019
Like an incomprehensible piece of art
hanging on the wall,
I have kept my feelings hidden
in the form of words pressed
onto the paper
crammed somewhere in my heart.
For some people, it lacks
rhythm and for some beauty.
But for now, I know
and fully understand,
people are not poetry.
Because poetry grants me freedom
to improvise when it is not in line
but people, they do not.
Tommy Randell Feb 2019
Dance to the music you're given
Your life has not yet been written

Read the poem you're writing
Each line a rhythm of lightning

Play the cards you're dealing
Cast the rhymes with your feelings

Risk all upon a moment of chance
Abandon yourself to the dance

That you are here in Free Fall
And Love & Life are a scrimshaw
Poetry instruction manual
Andrew Dursley Sep 2015
Zikketmen Uprise

Sillpy glopin honey drop slowly dripping in a gooey flop.Fropling trolippy skitterbug bleeringly rupoling the door

Dewy molifropinin weterings kladet in holimeter lines as criggol meets the Zikketmen.

But vasping ants jig molky polky on the derbholkpin as if chinnyzilcobble.

Meanwhile the phettering teeblers sang joop, joop, joop and ***** crackle flew over in the feetumleftumground.

The crumbwarblers screamed " hooji folpityquif bollp" but the zikketmen knew it was a lie.

"Who are you ? ", said the phettering teeblers as they oxiety the suggits.

Huge swarms of vasping squiding ants who were oblivious to the drama grigged the blodderpad and swung it violently towards the skitterbugs just as they finished their meal.

" I fooled the zikketmen" said the chief teebler.

But just then ***** crackle landed a heavy blow to the chiefs vast head and dripping masses of joolping green blood poured from his brainincasementholderthingy.

As if by magic zeery eyed cooljinmen had appeared in fighting mood.

Yelping ground slippits burrowed deep in to the sludge pockets and closed their eyes in fear.

Andrew Dursley 2015
This is what I like to call improvised poetry. I start off with a vague idea of the story then record myself adlibbing as I go. Not sure if it is the right sort of thing for this site but I hope someone likes it.
K D Kilker Apr 2013
It starts with an R,
or maybe an I?
A nebulous cluster
in the murk of my mind—
a desperate swipe;
they orbit my hand.
My journey starts
all over again.
Revise, reproduce—
induce, per use?
(My impatient acquaintance
taps his foot—
someone my age
should know this word.)
But I do, I’ve used it
a million times—
that’s right! I’ve got it—!
Presque Vu is another term for "tip-of-the-tongue" syndrome.
amber May 2014
the flowers in your hair
are not fortunate enough to meet your eyes
instead they only ever sit on your head
and improvise

— The End —