"if only they still had public stonings"

I feel awkward for her,
since I don't think
she has the sense to
feel it herself,
calling attention
to everything that
sets her apart from
the crowd, highlighting
her obsessiveness.
going overboard
is just the begining
if you're truly commited.
as she walks past, I hear
them whisper, "witch."

If Only We Could Cruise the River Again

Our friends bought a boat
several years back
and invite us at least once each summer
to float the lake
or ride the river.

My favorite?
The times we rode the river
passing the backside of
landmarks, trying to map where
we were
at that exact moment,
because we're used to the
geography of streets.
We laughed a lot.

We docked at the foot of
the Tennessee Aquarium
and hiked to a restaurant
where we could laugh some more
and share good food.

Nothing like the wake of wind
that blows hair and makes
us hold hats as we
point out chalets and palatial
homes where we'd like to settle.

If only the boat weren't packed away
for winter,
because Saturday promises fair weather,
seventy-plus degrees.

I REALLY like your poem today, Robert. I like how you are writing this entire month--lyrically, personally. Just wanted to tell you. jb

if only, as in
had i but,
or as in this case it may be had i but not
possibilities and negations and is that the subjunctive case
are apt to leave me spinning
but
the thing is
I now have, rolling around my brain,
like sweet honey from the rock,
the round SONOROUS tones of one Lord Buckley.
You see, I was reading a poem.
Just a little thing, and innocuous enough as love poems go.
When I saw two words together:
Tremulous Dreams
TREMULOUS DREAMS
and I thought
____that's familiar...
So I looked it up
Next thing I know, there I am,
with God's Own Drunk, and the big yeller moon shining up in the sky...
and the bear (Buddy Bear, tri-cycle, moonshine and all)
like a flash of history from the march of time
and I'm just sitting here,
grinning,
wondering
how I can get me some of that moonshine.

If Only Life Was Different

Spring is not summer.
Pickles can’t be cucumbers.
Peace is who one is.

Ah! My daily "peace" of Pai. Make this coffee go down better.

IF ONLY MARS WERE CLOSER

I’d volunteer to go there
Pitch my tent in the red hills
Maybe bring along my guitar
Become the first blues singer
To compose a tune or two
Oh, yes, I’d go to Mars

If only it wasn’t so far away
A ride most uncomfortable
For guys like me who get
Airsick at great distances
And need huge sickbags
To bury their heads in

If Mars were closer
Say as close as the moon
You’d see my hand
Up in the air
My bags packed
Space suit in order

I’d clutch in my gloved hand
A space-travel journal
Where I’d enter daily blogs
About my new home
The pretty shade of red
song lyrics to make a Martian weep

#

If only one could
Harness tomorrow’s wisdom
For today’s problems

Day 12 – If Only

If only I had
worn clean underwear
I wouldn’t be
lying here in the ditch
worried about
what the paramedics were
going to say

If only I had worn
a seatbelt
I wouldn’t have been
thrown from the car
and here
lying in the ditch
Worried about
my clean underwear

If only I hadn’t
taken that call
from you
angry and telling
me it was over
finally
I would have seen
the car coming
and wouldn’t be in this
ditch

If only I had paid
attention
I wouldn’t be in this place
I would have seen
the signs of breakdown
and would have done
something, anything
to fix it

If only I knew
how to drive
I would have been
more clear-headed
and wouldn’t have
got behind the wheel of
this car

If only….

Day 12: If Only...

If Only We Had One More Day

How many storms we could weather...
calming the hurricanes,
chasing the rains...

How many dreams we could live together...
seeing what could be,
running wild and free...

How many secrets we could tell...
whispering our deepest desires,
igniting love's fires...

How many sorrows we could quell...
letting our heart's not pain,
from hurt refrain...

Walt...you make smile...every time...even when I don't want to

Marie Elena...Haiku contagion rocks!

If Only Dreams Came True

If only dreams came true,
I’d live happily ever after with you,
money would grow on trees,
and I could do whatever I please.

If only dreams came true,
I’d have a room with a view
in the home we shared by the sea
together with the kids, you and me.

If only dreams came true,
I’d never have to make do
with wishes or wants unreal
created to mask how I feel.

But dreams do not come true,
so I will sit here and rue.

laurie k.

If only he didn't remember

He is resting
although not peacefully
his arm around me,
he jumps in his sleep.
His arms pluck at invisible debris.
Kicking at obstacles not there.
He has silent conversations;
mumbling, but he's yelling
in his nightmares to those around him.

he tells me of tales of first response
to 9/11 and the horrors that he'd seen
most stories too horrifying to tell.
He'd never burden me with the hurt he says
but I feel his anguish

Friends were killed that day along with the innocent
but as he explains
it was not only the innocent that lost their lives that day
but for those responders, they too have lost their lives
They've seen too much death and destruction
for them to ever be the same again

IF ONLY...LOVE

If only there was
love in a heart
where hate resided.
The bitter, black
pain should subside,
if one only made a
life changing
compromise to
harbor love
where hate
had been
dwelling.
One would
find their
heart swelling
with an overwhelming
sense of peace and comfort.
An indescribable desire to
compassionately reach out
to others with hands
worn soft with a
learned patience.
Hands given
with the
purpose
to love.

If Only Her Leaving Were Easy


She’s lived just miles away
for most of two decades,
and we’ve visited rarely
since she moved here.
I’ve been busy with family,
preoccupied with work,
distracted by friends,
all the usual excuses
we make for not seeing
people we generally enjoy.
But since she left her house,
we have been her family
for those few short weeks,
and have come to enjoy
this alert, intelligent,
and, feisty aunt of mine.
A brief passage of time
can bring a multitude of changes.
We travel to Saint John,
are gone five days or so,
and we learn she fell
several times, is hospitalized,
and undergoes tests.
Her daughter arrives from Ottawa,
and we learn how Aletha
will not return to Perrin’s Villa.
She can’t walk by herself.
Her cancer has metastacized,
has entered her brain,
and she will need special care.
She looks so much like my mother,
who we lost to Alzheimer’s,
that her bouts of dementia
unnerve us, her anger and frustration
evoke the pain we felt
around her sister’s demise.
Just days ago we shared
A camaraderie, a fellowship
of kin, and the friendly sharing
of familial experiences:
hers in Europe and Ontario,
mine here with her family
her deep roots on the Island.
And now all of that has changed,
we hope and pray for easy exits,
too aware of all the possibilities.

GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
(If Only It Were As Easy As Pai)

Haiku reigns supreme
Third line peace is Daniel's plea
If given a chance

If Only

If only you had taken the time
In the moment
We would have grown together
Instead of
Apart

Day 12

If only I had more time
I would take a leisurely walk through the park
I would listen to the fallen leaves crunch under my feet
I would sit on the bench and savor each sip of my hot chocolate
Its steam tickling my nose

If only I had more time
I would write you a poem
I would tell you how much you mean to me
And describe in detail
How my heart swells at the sight of you
If only I had more time
I would travel the world
I would explore the pyramids
Climb the Eiffel tower
And cross the desert plains on camels
I would swim in every ocean
And I sail in every sea
I would lie upon the pink sand beaches
And collect sea shells
And listen to the sounds of the waves

If only I had more time
I would share every experience, hand in hand
With you.
If you had the time.
What would you do?

If Only God Translated

I wish we could do without
airplanes, busses, cars
and God would just zap us
from one place to another
like he did with Philip in the
desert. Here one minute, there
the next. What would life be
like if you could go anywhere
you want, anytime you want?
What would stop us from
exploring every inch of
the world? Probably the
same thing that stops us now,
for the most part. Fear.

If only it would stay

funny how
everyone's roof is the same color
when the frost comes heavy
at night

a sparkling world
in the morning sun
diamonds in the grass
and on the windshield

I picked up a leaf this morning,
discarded & browned.
the frost made it a sculpture
glass-like and fragile

As the sun rises
everything thaws
and color returns
Although beautiful,
nothing is like the frozen world.

If Only I Could Go Back In Time

To change a few things
Never would I have smoked
Definitely would have
Taken more challenging
Classes in high school
Would have started college sooner
Never would have married wrong, twice
Would have taken that nanny job
And traveled to Europe
If only I could go back in time
But, would I still be me?

Precious

Welcome rain patters gamely, in early fall.
Drops spatter on the apple tree’s small leaves.
The smooth, oval cabochon shapes hold
Promises. Lush green jewels of fresh water
dappling the foliage, bathing the landscape
swaddling the precious sky for safe keeping.

I venture into the event timidly. My nature
resonating with the humid storm. Seeking
connection, receiving epiphany. Ego defeated
completely. Ultimately spellbound, by the
melody echoing through quartz sequoia forest
wholly enraptured with the fragile liquid field.

If only I could hold forever the presence I claim
at the moment, without the chain of opening
and closing, blossoming and wilting, eroding me.
Or flow with the water where it will, returning
to stardust, as a lighthearted being. Not stuck,
clunky in my capricious teary eyed embodiment.

If Only It Would Stop Raining

Another damp, gray day.
It’s well before evening,
yet the house is lighter inside than out.
Unrelenting rain saturates
the last of the autumn leaves
clinging helplessly to their branches.
My mood is as bleak as the weather.
Unrelenting rain drenches
my spirit with a hopelessness that
is foreign to me,
foreign and uncomfortable.
If only it would stop raining,
I might be tempted to escape
my warm and safe sanctuary,
leaving my melancholy and despair
to evaporate before I returned.
At least until tomorrow,
when it’s supposed to rain again.

If only it wasn’t that time of the month

I’ve been told by many that you should avoid certain moves in yoga, called inversions, during your menstrual cycle. The reasons, however, for this avoidance are all over the board with some saying it may cause an increase risk of endometriosis or “vascular congestion” but the most logical reason takes a less dire view, indicating that women often have less energy during their cycle so they may not want to do high-energy poses like inversions. Who do you listen to? Do I really want to ask that in front of the class? Or even in private? Admitting to being “on the rag.” To stand there, short and fat, as if looking for an excuse to not work out, or to at least try less? Or even if you didn’t ask it but you were concerned in class, you wouldn’t do the moves in question and then everyone would know, wouldn’t they? I’m trying to treat this like science because it feels like a formula when I feel my muscles stretch and build, but there is only so much science in the woman’s body, the female form that changes its moods with the moon, even if we don’t want to admit it.

DEAR PRUDENCE
(If Only I Could Find the Words)

If only I could find the words
that would make the difference in your world
and keep you from running to hide
every time you feel it crashing down around you.

Your beauty is an illusion to you
for even in the eyes of the beholder, you will
see what you want to see
and disregard the thoughts of others.

The outward manifestation of that vision
has made people stand up and take notice,
only to have you sit down and blend into the woodwork,
seeking a refuge in clear coated oak.

If only you would know
that all the thoughts that you think
would be deemed as wisdom,
if only you’d share them more.

Your voice is a symphony,
an aria for my ears and a score
to hum throughout my day,
if only you would set it free.

The tenderness and compassion
that resides deep within you,
suffocates on the precepts of indecision,
with no resuscitation possible.

And if only I could find the words,
I would tell you that you are loved
for who you are, as you are, and
for as long as you remain, dear Prudence.

Walt, I am blown away by the beauty of your poem.

Choices: Day 12: If Only ______


If Only I were You

and you were me,
perhaps a possibility
might still remain.

You’d not resist a
lengthy mirrored gaze,
stoic acceptance of the
consequence of actions
past and present.

You’d invite the power
of prayer to lift you up and over,
above and beyond, the hopeless.

You’d yield to the push
of pure love, let it direct and
transform your words, your thoughts.

Then perhaps our holiday plans
would not include the careful
stepping over our fractured family,
broken and bruised when
I was me and
you were you.

If only I’d known

What makes me cry
is I gave up
yet you still
list me as mother.

IT’S ONLY LOVE
(If Only Love Were Enough)

If only love were enough,
it would be all that we’d need
and because it would stoke our greed
we’d want all we could get.
If only love were enough.
It would be all consuming
and drive all that we do,
making all that we do more special,
if only love were enough.
All the evil in the world
would be forced to retire,
and all sadness expire,
if only love were enough.
Loneliness would be an abstract,
separation would be joined
and peace would be possible.
If only love were enough.
But without someone
with which to share it,
love will never be enough.
It's only love.

If Only

fragments of a spirit
rise on the breath
of the Anemoi
gods of wind and weather


perfect days
sheltered by words
if only in dreams
spin unseen and careless

along the path where
tears fade into fog

yet the heat of anger fires
the religion of resentment

ignites the mortification
of remembrance

kindles prayers
to Eleos, goddess of forgiveness

if only she were not deaf today.




Carol A. Stephen
November 12, 2009
PAD Challenge poem

If only I could
catch sight of you in moonlight;
love you, one more time.

W

If Only I Could

Obstacles that thwart
us most are generally
of our own making.

I should have kept quiet

I should have kept my mouth shut
Destroyed my bow and arrow
They’d never put Cock Robin’s death
Down to this little sparrow
I should have checked the shadows
For those nosey little spies
Prodded in the cowpats
For the stinking little flies
I should have wiped the blood away
With tell tale DNA
The blasted fish in his small dish
Took some and swam away
They never would have caught me
And stuck me in this cell
And promised worms abundant
If only I would tell
I heard they buried Robin
Wrapped in a beetle shroud
Beside the grave the owl dug
The black rook read out loud
The dove mourned for Cock Robin
The wren, the kite, the thrush
Watched on in reverent silence
From the branches of a bush
If only there’d been someone
Who cared that much for me
I never would have killed the bird
I’d still be flying free.

(Based on the English folksong “Who killed Cock Robin?”)

If Only Water Flowed Upstream

If I knew the source
of your pain,
I would ride
with an urgency,
oars raised
high above my head,
never mind the rocks
or the current
that tries to drag me down.

If only water flowed upstream
then I might ride
the tributary
that heals my arms
and makes them
stronger.

If you knew the source
of my uselessness,
my weariness,
you will know
that when I lay my paddle
down
you’ll go down
for the third time.

Overheard on a Bus

“I think you’re hot.
And so...why not?”

“Ya think? If only.
Guess what? Be lonely.”

If Only

If only

hunger could be eradicated
disease could be eliminated
hatred could be annihilated
and apathy could be decimated...

...if only.

Karaoke Without a Key

If only we didn’t mess up the words
we could have sung so keen.
Instead, we sounded like total nerds
singing a mondegreen.

There’s nothing like lyrics misconstrued
to mess up a really great riff.
It’s sad to be the ones who were booed
when the words were right there, only if...

Sorry, I had played wround with my poem so much I re-wrote the title and first line wrong. They should both read:-

"If only I'd kept my mouth shut"

I SAW HER STANDING THERE
(If Only She Were Standing Here)

She stood across the frozen pond,
she was surely hard to miss,

especially with that auburn hair
and lips good enough to kiss,

a smile that melted half the ice,
whene’er her grin was showing,

where’er she stood ‘twas safe to say,
that there was where I’d be going.

As I neared I could have sworn
her smile was getting wider,

and I couldn’t wait until the day
that I was there beside her.

The day I saw her standing there
was quite the revelation,

and when she came to stand by me
it was a cause for celebration.

Stolen hearts or given hearts
from one soul to another,

made me glad this cosmic link
wasn’t meant for any other.

Conspirators in a loving theft,
passions bloom, where once bereft.

Robert, I LOVE your poem today...wonderful, wonderful!

BTW, is anybody else having trouble getting their poetry published here? For the last few days, I've had to "submit" at least four times before getting my poem accepted onto the website. I'm typing in the robot codes (for lack of a better way of putting it) and still, I can't get my poem to appear above the line.

Thanks for all you do, RLB. Love this challenge as much as I love writing. It's keeping me inspired, busy, causing tears, laughter, headaches, sometimes nausea...all the things I truly love about writing! LOL!

Linda

IF ONLY I’D SET THE TIMER

Oven set at 325°,
I slid the Thanksgiving turkey in,
completely dressed in all his finery –
cavity stuffed with my best dressing,
complete with sage, onions, and celery,
then went to my computer for a bit of creativity.

After some time of inspired artistic endeavors,
I grew weary,
and knowing old Tom was quietly baking away,
I snoozed a bit.

After all,
isn’t that part of Thanksgiving?

The smell of that cooked bird
wafted into my bedroom,
awakening me with oh, such wonderful enticement.

I can’t wait for the first bite of that succulent bird, I thought,
as I pulled my feet from under the covers,
slipped on my houseshoes,
and walked towards the kitchen.

Hmmm, something’s not right,
my creative, still sleepy mind told me.

Oh, no!!!

Old Tom was nothing more
than a charcoaled heap of stringy leather,
his juicy, tender portions
never to be seen on my holiday plates.

If only I’d set the timer!!!!!!!!

~If Only it Was Meant to Be~

Desperate sadness and longing
I so wanted to reach out to you...
but I couldn't

Your smile was so warm
as you held out your arms...
but not for me

I could see the joy in your eyes
as you embraced the one you loved...
but I wasn't the one

As you pressed your lips to hers
she returned your kiss passionately...
but I didn't

Together in each others arms
you were no longer alone

...but I was

---

This captcha thing is really out of hand. Can't something be done to fix the problem? I don't know how on earth some folks seem to be able to post copious amounts of poetry while others of us struggle to get a single thing to go up! It's taking forever to try and do this challenge; eating into extra time I just don't have. What will happen when April's PAD rolls around if this keeps up? Very frustrated here. :(

IF ONLY YOU’D STAYED PUT

You never were quite lost. And now you’re found
in camo, stalking bucks that still elude
while you’ve been running circles on the ground.

The woods are full of phantoms, antler-crowned.
They lead astray. A hunter who’s pursued?
You never were quite lost, and now you’re found.

Where’s North? You say your GPS got drowned?
You know, when Nature’s in a nasty mood,
her rivers run in circles on the ground.

You wonder, could it be a fairy round
that drove you dizzy before dawn? How rude
of us to think you lost. And now you’re found

and fed from search-packs. You’ll be homeward-bound –
no need to tell your buddies you ran out of food
while you were running circles on the ground.

You’ll SUV to work on Tuesday (sound
of gossiping...). Why let the truth intrude?
You never were quite lost, although we found
you running elvish circles on the ground.

“If only…what?” asks God,
standing at the controls.
“Less windy in Cape Cod?
Lower waves in the shoals?”
A light flashes. “That’s odd.”

(God’s wry smile.) “Tornados
now seem to be tearing
up crops in New South Wales.
The coffee’s ready. Bring
Me a cup, will you, child?”

While you are visiting,
a huge roly-poly
bug—Earth—goes gyrating
by in speckled, oily
infinity. “I’m old

enough to know only
wholes are wholly holy.”


DA

I’LL KEEP YOU SATISFIED
(If Only …)

I ply you with the romance game,
a game I love to play,
and something that appeals to you
in every single way.

I smatter you with phone calls
just to hear your sound,
and whisper nothings in your ear
where words of love abound.

I send you cards and letters there
quoting words professed,
poetic nuance Hallmark style,
I care to send the very best.

I have flowers delivered to your house,
roses by the score,
floral fragrance fills your senses,
always wanting more.

I give you gifts without a cause
baubles by the bag,
anything to give you pause,
you’ll know without a tag.

I offer all the things I can,
my love remains devout,
I’ll try and keep you satisfied,
if only the Viagra holds out.

If Only I Could See My Home from Here

Pursing God,
Just isn't easy.
Leaving on the plane,
Bound for India,
Left a draw on her heart,
So deep.
The children are old,
Old enough to be ok,
Ok for me to go,
Chant, pray, meditate,
Return after she finds,
This deep and profound,
Inner venture to okness with God.

On the giant jet,
Full of foreign passengers,
She sees the other mothers holding tight,
To their babies,
Big brown soft eyes,
Long eyelashes to match.
Such love she sees between them,
Mother and child,
The ultimate intimate connection.

A four and half hour bus ride,
At least two friends are there,
On this journey,
Into the inner and outer unknown.
He'll be there,
As will they for the morning,
Meditation and welcoming moment.

Small room, up above the kitchen,
Unpack in a flurry, hurry,
The time is NOW!
Grabbing the sacred text on the desk,
She runs toward the thatched roofed,
Building where the others in white,
Are streaming in.

Sitting on the nearest cushion,
By the door.
Breathing deeply now,
She calms herself.
So, this is the village,
Where he is, ok, time to be HERE.

In he walks,
Carrying the same sacred text.
All eyes on him,
Not a sound in the room,
Only quiet breaths,
From all those in adoration,
Of the teacher and Guru,
Before them.

Ceremony and chanting
Is brief as is the interaction.
A note is passed to her,
From him, welcoming her to India,
To this home,
Where she can learn,
To discern,
To know and grow,
Spiritually.

Five weeks,
May or not,
Go quickly.
She works to have,
An open mind,
A williness to expand,
Her thinking and deepen,
Her faith,
In all things possible.

In between the "practice" of being here,
Pictures of her children adorn her room.
Internet and the food here is barely working,
It just isn't home. Not even home within.

"Let go and let God",
Finally helps her to have a realization.
She has made this commitment,
Entering this process,
Will take her full concentration.

Time travels quickly now,
Learning has been extreme.
Poverty, deformity, confusion,
With communication and conversation,
Takes its toll.
Tiring exercise,
With differences and expectations,
Western needs not met, desires unfulfilled.

Yet, moments with him,
Are precious, jewels on crowns of life's,
Untold glory, shining surpisingly bright,
As he teaches to the soul, the truth,
He knows and India has to tell.
Contrast is remakrable.

Spending time in the village,
Women in saris,
Shine a light all their own.
Their hearts are open,
They touch her with a smile,
Their beauty shows the soul light,
Through hearts of pure gold.

Harsh realities,
Among some of those wearing white,
Reveal a darker side to Ashram life,
Then the purity would imply.
Competition, resentment, jealousy,
Envy, confused thinking and aggresion,
Not very Godlike.

Final week, she is asked to teach.
With the lead student and Guru,
And other devotees in the room,
Demonstrating her knowledge,
Showing her understanding of his teachings.

Dressed in her own sari,
Poofing out in all directions,
As she sits by the door,
Facing directly across from the Guru,
Whose presence has given her confidence,
That yes, she has understood.

She speaks of a coffee bean,
That starts out in life.
Part of a bigger plant,
With others.
Until it is picked,
Ground up through life's ordeals.
Shifted, changed, transformed,
Into a different form.
When water, fluidity,
And heat, fire, is added,
More transofmration comes,
Until, it is ready to serve all.

Guru nods in positive regard.
The lead stuident quite agrees.
She has understood,
Learned all she could,
This visit has stood,
The test of its time.

Ceremony in the meditation hall is held,
As she readies to leave.
A sense of family here,
Has been profound,
Deepening,
Beautiful,
Moving
She holds the sacredness,
In her heart,
Like the women in India,
She knows this feeling of soul.

Back home again,
Feels almost foreign now.
Food and Internet are working,
In her favor.
Another realization comes,
Home is where her heart is . . .
Like Dorothy knew after Oz.

Her children did fine without her.
Her main relationship is still in tact.
Big family has some questions though,
Friends want to know of changes,
What did she learn that is new.

Her final assessment is clear.
It doesn't matter where one travels.
It doesn't matter where one is.
It is what's in the heart that matters,
That is what the knowledge of his,
Did.

She knows in her soul,
What we look for is within.
Home is where the heart is . . . and
In the story untold,
All love is simply pure gold.

If only’s
Are only
Imagined
Retrying
And slowly
The lonely
Imaginings
Die.

If only’s
Won’t change it
The danger
They’re waging
The loneliest
Staging of
Wars on the
Side.

If only’s
Remember
And memory’s
Are trying
To hold to
The lonely
Remembered
Respite.

If only’s
Are always
The crawlways
The trawled ways
The cruel
The fuel
If only
Goodbye.

<span style="font-weight:bold;">If only we could be represented by data
("<span style="font-style:italic;">otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth</span>").</span>

In the news today - the digital cloud being built above London:
- on it to be projected ever-updating data and stirring images,
showing in real-time,as if we live in something else,
inquiries about the Olympics, to gauge and prove our spirit,
the ascension of the cumulative, digital being

no need for a tower of Babel
just the clouds that surround
the hub-bub that, lifted and captured,
evidenced in evidence,
will rain down as some kind of perfect truth
on the athlete below who, at his most arrived result of practice,
at the perfect peak of his gathered strengths,
focusing on the execution of one
exceptional movement of muscle and mind
still can only throw the javelin
some dumb distance
into the earth.

We will know right away how we feel about him.

If only it hadn't happened


If only it hadn't happened,
what would I be? Who would
I be? Would I have focused
so heavily on visual art as
my mode of communication if
I could speak? Would I have
kicked sleeping dogs or let
them lie, twitching in their
sleep as I do when a muscle
spasm drives me mad with pain?
Would I stare a crippled boy
in his chair, rubbernecking
as I walked by? Would I have
broken up with my friends who
have stayed by me all this
time, fighting over boys, art,
music, religion? Would I like
that girl, running carelessly
through life if I met her face
to face, wheelchair to feet?

"If Only You Were Here"

If only you were here
I wouldn't feel so blue
I wouldn't have much misery
deep inside my soul.

If only you were here
My grey skies would fade
the rain would stop
the sun would shine
and color would fill my day.

If only you were here
I'd take you by the hand
I'd show you love and deep devotion
and never let you go.

If Only I Had Been…
© Rich Atwater Nov 12, 2009

If only I had been “born with a silver spoon in my mouth”
Then I wouldn’t be who I am.
I’d be choking on silver,
No bedtime stories about “the Little Red Hen”.

They’d be reading a book to us kids:
Like “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” on financial wealth,
And I wouldn’t have to worry about
“Public Option” for the “Care of my Health”.

I’d grow old with no problems, at least about money,
My teeth would all be pure gold.
And I probably would never have written
An avalanche of “love poems” never to be sold!

If only my mother had been “Ms Oprah”
I’d be black instead if white,
With a billion dollar inheritance,
If there were no offspring-parent fight!

If my Dad had been Mr. Donald Trump,
I’d have been a strange one indeed,
Because we were born on the exact same date,
But I don’t even own “a deed”!

If only I had been elected “President of the U.S.A.”
Instead of Clinton, Bush, or Obama,
Then the world would end for sure
December 21, 2012 as a major drama!

If my brother was Warren Buffet
I’d be older than I am,
If my sister Paris Hilton,
I’d certainly own many a gem.

If I had never participated in writing
With poetic ASIDES favorite crews,
I’d never have known the fun of it all,
With Marie Elena and Walt to peruse!

If my house was built on “Millionaires Row”,
Instead of here in “Dove Hollow”,
It wouldn’t make any difference at all,
Because I’d still be the very same fellow!

So don’t ever wish-- “If only I had been…”;
Take life as it has been given to YOU,
And you’ll be happier certainly by far,
Like “the old woman who lived in a shoe”!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Based on the prompt “If only...” from Poetic ASIDES Nov. 2009 Chapbook Challenge
Richard-Merlin Atwater, who has no “If only…” wishes to make. I like life the way it is, and as who I am.

If only I could turn back time
Maintain it all again
I'd spend more time with those adored
And less with all the rest.
I'd share more walks, breathe deep the air
Unfolding hot and cold
I'd listen more, pour on the praise
Hear children's hopes, their fears.

There's no rewind in life I've found
No replay of those days,
Brief seconds gone like floating seeds
Sown into unknown wind.
So slow down Mother, take your time
Father, seize these moments
Abide in each and every hour
If only's to appease.

IF ONLY FOR A MOMENT
(Icarus)

and although his body is slamming into the jagged
surface of a phantom sea, hundred-mile-an-hour

transmutation of earthly flesh to air, and although he
hates the sight of any substance untested, untried,

untouched by perfected hands, he excises himself now
from time, and although he will experience no more

as the cool numbness of unbeing creeps across his
narrow back, and as the vascular roots of his organs

fill to bursting with the endorphins, and as the rush
of it all erupts in tendrils throughout that daredevil

body, he still has the warmth of the Sun in his palms
and burning through his wrists, it is the last thing he

remembers, and it carries him on, their flames just
grazed each other half a second and that was enough

If Only He’d Known


You need a license
to go fishing,
get married,
drive a car,
but you don’t need
anyone’s approval
to make a baby

There’s no
government agency
sitting on your
shoulder, when the
opportunity (so to speak)
arises; no one waiting
to collect their tithe,
no papers to sign or
tests to pass

All that comes later

If Only His Parents Had Been Different

He wouldn’t have found his mother
dead on the floor that morning
when he was four. He wouldn’t
have watched his father come unraveled,
and he wouldn’t have eaten raw oatmeal
for breakfast while Dad lay in a stupor
in the next room. He would not have bounced
from family member to foster home
and back again. He would not have
all those tics and quirks, all those problems
with attention and distraction,
all those misfiring neurons,
because of all the junk his mom ingested
while he was still inside. He would not
be arguing with his adoptive parents,
who took them in out of sheer love over logic,
who sometimes wish things had been different too,
but refuse with every ounce of their being
to give up on him.

IF ONLY THEY’D LISTEN

[based on Elihu Burritt’s “Storming Quebec,” 1845]

Through two wars with the Motherland,
weren’t some in your government bent on conquest
of Canada? Now, in the ashes of the Great Fire
in Quebec, here’s your chance. Arm the battleship,
prepare for war. You can win the enemy over,
town by town and mouth by mouth. "Spring upon him
like a good Samaritan," with blankets, jackets
and trousers; hogsheads of bacon; codfish, flour,
pork and beef. Fire the cannon at fifty
hams per minute. Anchor your warship
in Quebec harbor and come ashore,
barricading the streets with loaves of bread.
As white flags wave from every corner
and the amazed bells peal on every side,
it will be clear, "you have killed an enemy
and made a friend at one shot."

If Only I had Begged

If only I had begged a small advance
on sales of future works of mine
I might have taken you to dance
in fancy restaurants and dine
on all the caviar of life
and swim in hedonistic seas
and pirouette upon the knife
of Occam's choice and tease
the very nectar of the gods
from outstretched hands and seek
no more approving nods
from publishers and agents, bleak

But instead I trusted to
the softly spoken words – a view
of independent authorship you see
who make their dough from mugs like me.
If only I had begged a small advance
my book might well have had a fighting chance.

Continuum
(If only he’d showed up sooner)


She thinks
if she could go back and move time and space with trembling fingers,
she would.
If she could turn back the pages of her story and edit in the words ‘Enter: Kindness’
she would.
If she could lose all, find herself, unearth this peaceful place even just a few seconds sooner
she would.

In a heartbeat.
And really, wouldn’t it be better?

She thinks
perhaps not. Maybe it would have all come
crashing down,
built too soon on too small a foundation
fallen
crashed, burned, ruined around her
as butterfly wings softly graced her cheek.

Most excellent writing ALL! It's an honor and blessing to be among such artisans. United in purpose, portrayal of emotion through our words.

“If Only”


If only I’d searched my soul
My brain, I thought I wracked

We shared so much, had a bond
Thinking nothing could touch

Not just our childhood, growing years
But our loves, our children’s lives

Were inseparable for such a long time
You and I agreed , shared a pod like two peas

Always sure to be there for you
Holding on, as you lost him

Packing, moving you from
sweet, but tugging strings

Trying to listen, I know you were ill
Your will lost, no longer in tact

Left me, without a word, goodbye
This blow, your final act.

If only, I hadn’t quitclaimed the search
Finding your deepest need

Ninacarole
11/12/09

If only I could shrink the ocean

If only I could shrink the ocean
to a teardrop, mop it up
and put it in my pocket,
I’d step across the dry

place, embrace my children:
telephone and Skype don’t
substitute for a hug.
There’d be no need to check in

to have a cup of tea.
I could give them love-
apples from my garden
without customs in between.

If only my small Maine town
were in England, next door
to theirs, if all my sliding
doors weren’t one-way only.

Jenny Doughty

IF ONLY

What would I say if I examined my regrets?
If only I’d flossed my teeth, chosen the pink
socks, taken my vitamin this morning, called
my friend Luann. If only my father
still lived so I could call him instead.
Wait. That’s not a regret.
That’s absence.
If only I’d turned to Buddhism
then this day would be different
and I’d be compassionate.
If only I would get my head
out of my armpit, stop
considering regrets and lost
connections, then perhaps
I would see that which is right
in front of me.
And that would be you.

If Only. . .

If only we looked in our own backyard
Before spending on wars we cannot win
If only we looked long and hard
We might have a better place to begin

If only we were not so blind
To the turmoil of our fellow man
If only political lives were not so kind
perhaps they might understand

If only we all had enough to eat
when so much is wasted
If only the homeless weren’t forced to live on the street
begging for what they have not yet tasted

If only the sick could reach out
Touch those with the might
help them to understand what real pain is about
those politicians might just set things right

If only what they say were true
So many teens would not get pregnant
living on the street, forced to make due
giving up all that was their parents intent

If only the poor could have their dignity back
They might find a little self-esteem
If only they might earn the skills they lack
they might be able to live the American dream

If only this poem could end well
But, that is up to you
Right now as you all can tell
there is much work to do. . .

©Ralph J. Fitcher, November 12, 2009, If Only poem. I hope it fits. Sorry if it does not.

Bullfight

If only this page weren’t blank
but a red cape I could wave
at my muse to entice her
to lay bare the poems clotted
behind their sequined costume of words.

Hi Everyone
Been away a few days with no internet, so just catching up. I missed being able to check out everyone's entries and writing.

Anyway, here's #12. The rest have been posted to their respective days.

12 IF ONLY

If only:
They wouldn’t put you on the loop
Of menus
When you called them
So that
You didn’t have to talk
to a recording
giving you choices
That don’t apply
and have nothing to do with your call
And then
making you wait while they
put you back
through the cycle with the recording
of the same
disembodied
detached
uninterested voice
Giving you more choices that have nothing
To do with why you called
If only
it didn’t take fifteen to twenty minutes
To get one question answered
If Only
they would put a real person
on the line

If Only I Could Fly

I’d soar up to the Matterhorn
to pick velvety white edelweiss.

I’d visit Bolivian highlands
where air is thin and shivery.

I’d cross the treacherous seas
to drink Bordeaux and Chardonay
in charming cafes along the Rhone.

I’d sail through billowy clouds
to feel the condensation fresh
as dewdrops on a summer morn.

I’d swoop through hoards of seagulls
hovering above the ocean waves.

I’d zoom outside the Milky Way
to discover unknown galaxies beyond,
maybe catch a shooting star.

If I could fly I’d carry moonbeams,
aromas of gardenias and bluebells
and lovely symphonies across the sky.

Now all I can do is take flights of fancy.

Barbara Mayer

If only up were down
If only right was wrong
I’d understand the thoughts in my head
If only I was you
If only you were me
I’d be able to feel what you feel.
If only words were heard without being spoken
If only I could write my script
I’d know what to say

If only...


If only there were more hours in the day
or I could be cloned like the guy in the film
but without the hilarious complications ensuing.

If only sitting at my desk for hours
didn't result in a boil on my butt
and if only I didn't divulge too much information.

If only it turns out to have been all worthwhile
when I see my Pink book sitting on the shelf
next to the Yellow one and the Blue one almost there.

If only by the time I finish all seven books
I am not a physical wreck and people aren't
heartily sick of hearing about them yet again.

If only I could think about something else
talk about something else
but I'm obsessed until the task is done.

"If only math wasn't the tango"

I would not hear my heart beat
rhythmic as the keyboard
or feel the warmth in your voice
as you explain romance
in graphs and symbols
My heart would not leap
at the number 2
thinking you might have
a hidden meaning
in your explanation
of math.
I would not suddenly lose
the monitor in a spinning whirl
when you lean close
to point out that peak
of the graph.
If only
if only
if only I didn't love you.

if only I was glass
instead of flesh
if only I did not have to
speak
and the warm press of my hand was enough.

If I only I could turn
back again,
whisper to my younger self a warning,
maybe two.

If only you had held on
a little tighter,
jostled my soul a little more,
not been so eager to walk one step in front of me,
maybe two.

we order lunch, you order the special, I choose the chicken,
we will speak,
and laugh,
and then,
split the check.

We will not talk.

If Only

If only, such a lonesome sound
Our minds run round the track – If only
I was prettier or had more this or that--

If our minds keep running backwards
Til the very start of time
Back to the first person to break the soil
And plant a crop, was that a crime?

All those generations, just trying to make do
Trying to live their quiet lives, if the earth
Was damaged, no one knew.

Things never came out even, some had less and
Others more. As for the earth, it would abide
long after all of us passed to the other side.

Too many people, not enough food, water, or clean air.
Our ancestors never learned enough to care. If only
we had known what ever it was we should have done
Or maybe what we didn’t do, it could be either one.

If only I’d remember

each breath is blessed,
I’d leap into morning,
eyes cleared of sleep
and complacency,
open to gifts that beckon
in curling steam of tea,
in daily minutiae
unfurling with possibility.
What would I see?

If only I’d shake off the haze,
wake to the miracle
of ordinary, the way a stray
sunbeam hits dirty dishes
just the right angle, and the
light filters through glass,
spreading in shimmering prism.
I’d see that each step I take
can become a prayer,
each breath speak praise.

If Only I could Swim

I wouldn't just
splash my feet

around in the ocean
at the beach, I'd go out

all the way to where
they say it's not safe

to swim out to. Rule breaker.
All arms and legs,

taking me to the edge
of the earth, to that seam

of sky— out of view,
out of reach. No lifeguard coming

after me.

If Only My Heart

If only I didn’t wear my heart on my
Sleeve I would dust it off and
Push it back where it belongs
Into a quiet spot
Deep inside where it would no longer be
Seen or felt and perhaps it would encourage my
Mouth to
Shut

If only I had seen
The signs, listened
To the screams,
Said no when
I heard myself
Saying yes.

I could have
Stopped the cycle
Before the abuse
Had ever had a
Chance to begin.

If only I had
Known that when
A person shows you
Who they really are,
Believe them.

I could have
Saved the pieces
Of myself
That were long ago
Torn away.

If only I had
Really understood
The fact that
People never change

I would be different now.

If only

the phrase if only were cliche,
if we curtailed our dreaming
and got busy planning
and enacting
we could give
if only
the proper burial it deserves--
a six foot grave,
white roses,
no tears,
and just so we'd cherish our blessings,
we'd only
say remember when.

If only

every poem
was a prayer,
a concentrate
of incense
crafted from
purity, intensity
nobility

If only
we didn’t
stumble
with our words,
pull out awkward choices,
turning away from
Thesauri,
guardian angels
in our midst

We are the fallen who
muse
then twitch,
type
then itch

We help God
build character

(This is 5th attempt to get this poem to post ugh)

If only

she had considered
the future cost she’d pay
for walking taller than she was

Had she thought to measure
and select only a perfect fit
instead of the flashy colors, the potty toes
her old woman feet
might yet be free
to move easily across the lawn
or into town

But, if only being what it is,
today she sighs and sits
with only her pen
to move her in and out

If Only You Had Lived
Taken from us after so long the wait
We wonder where you would be now,
Life given to you, what could you have achieved?
You might be a lawyer, a teacher, a scholar, or a Priest.
Only good means would you be capable of.
I still feel the pain; we still feel the worthlessness,
I pray that you hear me now, we miss you, but you are better off.
Take care, see you when, our love has never faded.

If only …

the future
could be projected
on the screen, bulleted
lists of items,
with graphics.

Each PowerPoint slide
would show changes based on
the path taken.
If only
a click of the mouse

could display past mistakes,
even my own,
could point out
teenage stupidity
is not new, not even

original.
If only
they could see success
comes with education,
There’s no short cut

in this life.
If only they would
believe me, if only
they would listen.
If only…

A little more playful today. Had some real problems with this prompt, so I got silly instead. Title is also the first line of the poem.

If only


I'd phoned Lee
for the fin
Lee owed me,
my phone'd be
the only
phone on. Lee
phoned me. I
found Lee in
Finn's Alley.
One lone key,
my donkey,
Lee's bad knee,
a phone rings.
We all see
one, two, three,
cops near me.
Oh shit Lee.

Ego Askew

If only I had been kinder,
my tongue less anxious to express
opinions, criticisms, faults.
If only I had been more patient,
less inclined to interrupt,
less apt to make decisions
without other’s input.
If only I had been less forceful,
pushy, hasty, impatient.

Perhaps there are few tomorrows
but I pray there are enough
to make amends and change.

If Only I Had A Yak

If only I had a Yak
I would climb on his back,
and we would ride to town
to see the clown,
and stop for a bit of lunch
and wash it down with punch,
and then we would shop a bit
but don’t get too close my Yak might spit,
and then when the day is done,
I would point you toward the setting sun,
and back home we would go
to see your beau –
the cow two houses down -
and I would put on my night gown
and dream of my Yak
and the plaque
we received, for the best
transportation in the west!

If Only

If only I didn’t like sweets
I’d be thin and healthier, too
I’d reply when offered that
slice of pie, no thanks, I’m full
as if that had anything to do
with the taste of that sweet treat.

If Only Enough

If only we could be
thankful with
enough.

Unfulfilled longings.
Regrets.

If only enough.

Complete satisfaction.
Peace.

If Only It Were that Easy

I’d change everything
About me
I’d not be
Irritating, aggravating
I’d allow you to
Walk all over me with
Ease
I’d step back, step down
Take things in
Stride
I’d fix the need to be
Understood
I’d not give injustice another
Thought
I’d be your toy
Let you come and
Go as you please
I’d stop the questions
I would follow blindly
I’d stop being
Me in a second
If only it were that
Easy

IF ONLY IT WAS THE YEAR "BACK THEN" AGAIN

If Only It Was The Year "Back Then" Again

Year after year the young sisters spent whole summers
in Thomasville in that white house owned
by Grandpa and Grandma Burroughs, surrounded
by flowers and bees and hummingbirds and all that
sunshine, but with nothing to do. Front porch sitting, watermelon
eating, soap-opera watching, thunder listening —such was summer-life for them
from the beginning of July till the end of August. They complained
that the days were the same, counted them down to when they'd be back
in the backseat of the station wagon backing out the driveway, waving
their goodbyes and see-you-soons, heading back.

But when they speak about it now, they speak about how
it's been ages since they've been back. They speak about the watermelons
and how the ones in Stop & Shop got nothing on them. They speak
about the hummingbirds and can't remember the last time they
saw one. And The Soaps —they just aren't the same as when they were on
that floor model set that took up most of the living room. But they
couldn't go back even if they wanted to. Their Grandpa's gone.
Their Grandma's gone and their house has been sold.

IF ONLY IT WAS THE YEAR "BACK THEN" AGAIN

Year after year the young sisters spent whole summers
in Thomasville in that white house owned
by Grandpa and Grandma Burroughs, surrounded
by flowers and bees and hummingbirds and all that
sunshine, but with nothing to do. Front porch sitting, watermelon
eating, soap-opera watching, thunder listening —such was summer-life for them
from the beginning of July till the end of August. They complained
that the days were the same, counted them down to when they'd be back
in the backseat of the station wagon backing out the driveway, waving
their goodbyes and see-you-soons, heading back.

But when they speak about it now, they speak about how
it's been ages since they've been back. They speak about the watermelons
and how the ones in Stop & Shop got nothing on them. They speak
about the hummingbirds and can't remember the last time they
saw one. And The Soaps —they just aren't the same as when they were on
that floor model set that took up most of the living room. But they
couldn't go back even if they wanted to. Their Grandpa's gone.
Their Grandma's gone and their house has been sold.

If Only You Knew

If only you would rest
your head here
on my pillow.
If only you would sleep
longer, stretch deeper,
linger in my bed.
If only I could read your eyes
when they open
in the morning
and you see me yet again.
If only love were as simple
as a gaze and a few words
and limbs entangled
for a while.
If only the chill
didn’t rest on my shoulders
in the morning air
as I get up
to start our day.

If Only The Lonely

If only the lonely were sad, we’d be
staggered to see that their number
encompasses children and teens
along with adults we might know.

In classrooms crowded with laughter
how many kids feel all alone, without
friends to stop and speak with, unburden
their nightmares and fears of the heart.

If only the lonely could tell us how
they’re hurting, and hopeless, it seems
that together we’d seek a way
to convince them not to give up on life.

If Only

If Only


They all really did
come home
for the holidays
and sit around the
table and laugh
and talk just like
old times when
they promised that
things would only
grow but never
change....

IF ONLY

We let go
of all our “if onlys.”
And enjoyed
the life before us,
what a joy life
would be.

If I Could Only

If I could only
write free verse poetry
You know those strong words.
Expressions amazing
I struggle with these.
maybe education,
could be excuses
I just want to be
an honest talent
Not forced fed by
anger jealousy
If I can only
master these poetics
forms I will succeed.

Raymond Alberts

Sorry this is Day 11 for some reason will not post on the 11th........will (shows a 'server error' will try again tomorrow.......


Construction


There on the shore
my father and I
sea breezed blown
he tanned and
black haired
waiting at a sanded
mound
I ferrying
Fantasia's beach
buckets of sea
water
He drizzling
into magical
being a castle
three quarters
as tall as I
All afternoon
we worked the
sun lowering in
the sky
people walking
by and stopping
to look to smile
a trio of tow-headed
siblings watching
for long minutes
thumbs in mouths
dumbfounded
until they were called
away
Finally sand golden
sun setting
He drizzled
wet sand
through his hands
squeezing a draped
doorway into life
a small fuschia flag
posted and waving
in the salty air
and I
watched
my father
my castle
and the sudden
unnoticed inexcorable
creep of the tide
lapping at its sides
I leaned against him
inhaling the scent
of him - cigarettes and salt
we bought creamsicles
from the man who came
around one last time
In the orange light
the bittersweet taste
of citrus and cream
on my lips
the gentle tide
turned - rose and pushed
waves closer - inch by inch
until in a sudden lurch
of powerful spray
all that remained
was a tiny fushia flag
floating out to sea
My fathers arm
stayed around my shoulders
as we sat in the chill
of bittersweet
inevitability

If I Could Change Him Would I

If only he could see or hear
One sense would make his life so clear
But missing both - life’s just a void
A space I try but can’t ever imagine

Try as I may in a million ways
To understand why this had to be
Always the same thoughts come into play
He is so special he needs protection

From all the worldly ways
To taint his special spirit
And mar his oh so gentle soul
Which makes him quite unique

I guess as any parent I wish the best
For a child born with hopes of greatness
But would changing him be the best
For only God knows the final plan

For the many people he has taught
The persistence of his quiet ways
The truth about pure love
As only his silent walls could teach him

He has taught with grace and poise
The lessons of life to those
Who felt they really had it tough
And then they heard him laugh

Haiku contagion indeed, Daniel! :) “peace of Pai” HA! Good one, Walt.
Pamela Gordon: So touching. I can’t imagine … and thankful I don’t have to. God bless him.
Sweet Hannah, it does my heart good to see you’ve returned. Beautiful, as always.
J. Hugh: Still keeping you in prayer.
Connie Peters: A good read, as usual from you. And you’re probably right.
Pamela Gordon: What a lovely image! Beautifully expressed.
Susan Schoeffield: How well you describe the scene and melancholy. Bring on the sun.
Patricia Wellingham-Jones: An emotional waterfall conveyed in a droplet. Wow.
Patricia Hawkenson and AC Leming: Powerful.
Linda Robertson: You gave me a laugh!
Daniel Ari; Bravo!
Janet Rice Carnahan: Intriguing and engaging story. Marvelous job.
Avalanche of love poems? I’m honored, Mr. Atwater. “I’d be choking on silver; no bedtime stories about The Little Red Hen.” Love that line! Oh, and thanks for including me in such good company.
Joseph Harker: intense and original as always.
Bruce Niedt: Your recent posts have touched me deeply.
"If Only They’d Listen” Bravo, Taylor Graham!
Ralph Fitcher: Another one to file under “best.” Nice work.
SusanB: I second that!
Banana: Obsess away! You’ve certainly earned it. :)
Amanda Fall: Descriptive images once again. Nice!
Michelle H: How fun!
Missy McEwen: What a lovely, touching tale.
Pearl, I’m thankful your construction poem was posted here. Wonderfully good read.
Walt, your work is to be admired, as usual. However, Prudence is especially well done and touching. I hope she sees this accolade.

So thankful to stroll among such talent. :)

If only Sunday

day is gloomy
out of sync
birds have silenced
mood just stinks
bones acrackin
got the chills
bury head
beneath warm quilt
closing eyes
just wanting sleep
doorbell rings
it's next door creep
out of bed
stubbing toe
invented words
from mouth flow
step in doo
left by Sam
morning gifts
his daily plan
phone keeps ringing
causing fits
I'll be damned
this day won't quit
if only
Sunday had stayed asleep
I'd welcome gladly
rest of week


(prompt- fill in the blank- If Only___________)

November 12th, 2009

(c) Rose Marie Streeter

The Journey: Day Twelve: If Only __ as title


If Only

takes me by the hand, leads me through the garden
of regret, past the fragrant pines on the land we had to sell,
past the violets that bloomed when we could have stopped
the incest, past the hostas, reminiscent of dollars spent
in secret.

If only shows up unexpectedly, lingers
on twilight. Moon shadows
conceal, if only for a moment,
labyrinthine paths of rue.

If Only I Didn’t


crave McDonald’s and Pizza Hut
instead of salads and tofu

beg for a taste of your ice cream
instead of sticking with mine

believe in some sort of afterlife
I could be so much meaner

love the one I love
I could love the one who loves me

If Only...



.... I’d told you then
What I am telling you now.

Looking back, it seems that I was too young
To know what I wanted from life.
If only you had not listened to me, and stayed.

But you left, to give me time to think;
You knew what I wanted, better than I did myself.

It’s too late.
Such a senseless death.
Mugged and murdered for $50 –

Just outside the Post Office;
A moment after you’d posted
My 21st birthday card.

If only...
I could hug you and
Tell you that I love you.

If Only I Could Survive Sleeping an Hour or Two

When I think of all
the things I could do
if only I could survive
sleeping an hour or two

I’d have enough time
to read every great book
write to my congressman
and learn how to cook

work in my garden
train the dog to do tricks
learn the names and the stats
of the ‘72 New York Knicks

I’d work though the night
as the common folk slumbered
I’d write a rock opera
and have all the stars numbered

and write volumes of poetry
some serious, some pretty
devise a scaled-down prototype
alternative energy city

and try to appreciate
every single gift from God
and pray hour after hour
and it wouldn’t feel so odd

Would I make all these changes?
I confess I have doubt
but it probably won’t happen
so I’ll never find out

for now sleep is winning
drowsiness taking its cue
and I’ll dream of surviving
sleeping only an hour or two.

Thank you, Marie Elena . . .
For your kind and encouraging words.
You really are an inspiration during this PAD.
You uplift us all! I enjoy your writing, ideas and humor.
Maybe you don't need more sleep :)

Thank you, Walt . . .
Your thoughtful words and positive commentary,
Are also greatly appreciated. Thank you for sharing about,
The "other" Janet. I was so sorry to hear that, yes, how sad.
It sounds like she also,
Loved your writing, humor and banter material.
Write on!

If only time were a seashore
Where each grain of sand
Was a moment of time
I could hold out in my hand

I would skip upon that seashore
Let the sand fall through my toes
I would feel it warm beneath me
As it chased away my woes

Then I’d send time flying upward
With a carefree playful kick
Let each moment fall like rain
It would be a joyful trick

And as each grain came tumbling down
I would glimpse them with my eye
Relive each precious moment
Let them pass with a joyful sigh

Missing the Fun

If only I could hear one more joke,
I would love to see my cousin crack
After hours of Dad working it hard.

If only I weren’t in such a bind,
Maybe I wouldn’t wrestle with being thankful
For money that only came because he’s gone.

If only I didn’t have so much debt,
I could give it all away in his name
Instead of just the portion that belongs to God.

If only I could write poetry for a living
And use my time in serving others
Instead of launching a would-be career.

If only my novel would write itself
In a season of my life that was not marked
With grief, guilt and unparalleled guile.

I would change a lot of things.
I would reach beyond my life
And perfect the world with my words

If only I could hear one more joke.

What if we could see ourselves for what we truly are

How many stand before the mirror or the scale,
Not to groom but to be judged
The oddly shaped nose and the footprints of crows
Screaming out in self imagined condemnation
Are we no more than our skin?

What of mocking choirs of ghosts
That sing of fears and limitations
Voices that tell us that we shouldn't shine
Their voices like the wine of failure
The slow venom that destroys us long before we die
Are we no more than the voices in our head?

What of past mistakes
Binding us not to what we can be, but to what we where
Or the lie of perfection that convinces us
That we will never be good enough
Whispering in our ear like shakespears Iago
That somebody else will always be better.
Are we no more than past mistakes and imperfections?

If only you could see yourself as I see you.
Magical beings borne through eternity on butterfly wings
Masters of creation with bodies of resplendent light
Each one of us with talents like pollen to a bee
And the world is a flower saying "pollinate me"

I know it sounds corny, and maybe fantastical
But have you never seen it in a smile
From a thoughtful word or deed
Or felt it in those moments when the voices didn't rule
When you put your pen to paper and let magic fill the page

If only we could see ourselves for what we truly our

Thank you Marie. I am glad you enjoyed it.

Ralph.

Oh, and Robert? I enjoyed your poem very much, and I mean no disrespect, but I can't resist ...

GO BUCKEYES!!!

;)

You always gotta tweak that guy, don't you? That's the chicken way to do it. Buck, buck, buck, buck, buck, buckaw! (I thought you might like some help!)

Prompt 12

If only I could remember her face

I recall the dark hair falling in place
Along her forehead making a soft frame
If only I could remember her face…

I envision her friendly countenance
Her eyebrows sparse, finely spaced and the same
If only I could remember her face…

The warmth of her smile, her charm, her grace
Attend the very mention of her name
If only I could remember her face…

Kindness, fairness, care and fun have their place
In my memory of her demeanor
If only I could remember her face…

Oh, but if only I could remember
Her eyes…the depth, the light, the soul’s ember
I would remember her face and I could cry…

If only

I step across the world
from partner to daughter
with three kids as cargo.

They vomit, squabble,
refuse to walk another step
in no particular order.

I will shiver
at playgrounds and forgo
the Van Gogh museum.

It’s enough to be there
at the kitchen table
with Mum.

LET IT BE
(If Only I Could Leave Well Enough Alone)

Stepping out of your comfort zone
can be a mistake if you're all alone,
You end up sitting by your phone,
waiting for something uncertain.

Oh, you give it a shot,
then you take what you've got,
because like it or not
she's working the curtain.

You've given it some serious time
until you let her know what's on your mind,
but sooner or later, you're gonna find,
deep down inside, you're hurtin'.

So don't lose your cool,
because you'll just be a fool,
and you're staring to drool
for it's you she's avertin'

Leave it alone, Dude!
I don't mean to sound rude,
but she treats you like dog food,
Let it be, that's for certain.

But you know I can't help myself!

LOVERS IN A RED SKY

If only I could enter the paint,
and become one with the paint,
we could fly across the red sky
over the charcoal outline of the town.

I could show you my breasts
above the white skirt of my wedding dress,
and wrap my arm around your head like a charm,
gazing at your face, looking into your eyes.

The yellow fish would leap over death!
Gabriel would bring us baby’s breath!
The bird of hope would flutter by like a butterfly,
opening to the future, closing to the past.

Jane Beal
sanctuarypoet.net

IF ONLY I HAD MY CAMERA

Fog, spiraling off a small lake
Rain mirrored road reflecting
bright images of fall trees
If only I had my camera

A cardinal on the feeder
A squirrel on the cornstalk
nibbling at a yellow ear
If only I had my camera

A train rushing down the track
the steam curling behind
Tracks glistening in the rain
If only I had my camera

The early morning light
dancing along telephone lines
Sun shining through the leaves
If only I had my camera

My cat perched atop
my tripod, his delicate
balancing act, amazing me
If only I had my camera

Kodak moments in life
lasting only seconds
Quirky, wonderful images
If only I had my camera

J. Kuykendall

If Only You Were Here

If only
you were here with me
we could be
all in all
to each other forever
or at least for now

If Only The Wall Would Talk Back


When I say to you "I love you"
and that "I miss you so"
that "You're my sweetie, darling,
I want to hug you so",

my neighbours think I'm crazy
for talking to my wall
when there IS no one beside me
here in my room at all.


When I sing a dozen love songs
and some arias in the shower
the whole house vibrates with love,
as I sing with all my power.

It's not that I'm not full of love
or that musicality I lack
but sometimes I think to myself
"If only the wall would talk back".


© November 2009 by Martin Anthony Dorn

Proofreading my poem, I noticed an error: fourth line from the end should read, "who took him in..."

If only I had wings

If only I had wings
I promise I would take to the air
after you were safely asleep,
spread my velvety wings
after the stars were embedded firmly
in the black heavens.
Pillowed by the billowing wind
I’d watch with sympathy leaves that can only tumble
from the trees and land damply
on the lawn I’ve left behind.
I promise to return before the
sun has even considered our side of
earth; I promise to rush if I hear your cry over
the susurration of mango scented groves.
I will tuck my wings around you like cornsilk,
and we will swing from the windowframe
the cool night air rocking us to sleep.

IF ONLY SANTA CLAUS' WISHES CAME TRUE

Santa Claus is coming to town,
But look at how people-
Similar to those whom he,
Nicholas, Bishop of Myra
Sought so valiantly to help
Associate him with putting money
Into the accounts not of the poor whom he loved,
But of the already wealthy heads
Of corporations,
While those cashiers,
Whose weary faces smile at us
Whether we we buy some beer,
Some vegetables,
And some beans -
Or a new state-of-the-art
Home entertainment system
To replace the one that we bought last year
Because we want fancier and fancier-
Take very little home themselves.
Perhaps if Santa Claus' wishes came true,
Then we would think more of the weary cashiers
In the stores
And servers in the restaurants,
Than the CEO's
As we do our shopping -
For after all, the Superstar CEO
Whom Santa truly serves
Was born in a manger
And worked a blue-collar carpentry job.

Having such a hard time with the code thingie!

If Only You Had Stayed

If only you had stayed
to grow old beside me,
a part of us always sixteen,
together ageless and beyond
the struggles that laced
our fate into meeting.
If only you had stayed
and I could touch you
before touching day coming
through shaded window,
sunlight that traced
your face in memory.
If only you had stayed.

If Only He Knew

An old boyfriend is the leading role
on the big screen of my subconscious.
The what-if’s are stuck on repeat
with alternate endings never-before-seen.
I indulge in fantasies I knew never could or would happen.
I gave up love for religion and college
and he didn’t understand. I feel guilty now
laying next to my husband
while I sneak around in my dreams
with an old boyfriend.

Love at First Sip



If only he’d been
a beer lover, a
bourbon and branch water
drinker, even a mojito man,
she wouldn’t have fallen
so swiftly, completely,
into his arms. But when she
watched him swirl the wine
under his nose, she rose.
His bouquet pulled her to him,
he saw her coming, and
with a nod accepted her
invitation. Together they
savored the fine cabernet,
then switched
to a startling shiraz.
By then they both knew
they’d be sharing more grapes
and the rest of their lives
with each other.

If Only I Had Seen Your Wings

If only I had seen your wings

I’d have hitched a ride through plum-blue skies
like your eyes’ sad tearing looking down
upon wars’ wasted malignant seas

If only I had seen your wings

while wildly kicking on a teenager’s swing
abandoning earth I would have steered
buckling chains more gently heavenward

If only I had seen your wings

my piggy bank high school hope chest
twelve diaries’ stinging loves’ lost hope
might have earned a pure heart’s singing

If only I had seen your wings

the knockout rounds of drunken parenting
filtered through the eyes of an eight-year-old
might have been distilled by golden lenses

If only I had seen your wings

If only I had seen your wings

If Only the Possibilities Were Not Endless

If only the possibilities were not endless
I would not be able to imagine
All the tiny and great things that
Pass through my mind each day we do not speak.
Was it the careless remark I made that day?
Or, was it the time I didn’t answer the phone
When you called because
I was cleaning the bathroom and
Didn’t hear the phone ring?
Or was it the ex-girlfriend
Who looked you up on Facebook and
Started reminiscing about those old college days?
Or was it the ex-wife?
It could have been the ex-wife.
Or, could it be that I shared too much
Too soon and didn’t make great efforts
To hide my flaws because it seemed
Disingenuous to pretend that I was perfect
When, well, who is?
Maybe you were abducted by aliens?
Wishful thinking, perhaps.
If you were abducted by aliens, then I could
Put to rest all the amazing, and not so amazing,
Ideas that pass through my restless mind.
If only the possibilities were not endless.

If Only

If Only Mama'd let me go to the county fair,
ice cream candy apple coca-cola stains on
white t-shirt, flea market tye dye sunglasses
hats with detachable hair, $10 entry fee vocal
dance instrumental bathing suit beauty pageant &
talent contest, down and dirty grass
roots lawn mower racing, beekeepers apiary
honey comb in wide mouth jar with rust-free lid,
to market to market to buy a fat hog, fortune
telling star tarot card palm in Gypsy Lee's hand.

“If only the buttons”

If only the buttons reached the button-holes
There would be no need to buy new clothes,
To re-start the diet, to cut out cookies
To look out my trainers, to take exercise
If only the Lycra was more giving
I would be able to touch my toes
If only the do’nuts kept in the kitchen
Did not beguile me with their sweet talking
If only, if only, if only

If Only For a Bunny Basket...

Once upon a time, a cat named Fib, fit in a bunny basket half his size. Having just finished reading the newspaper, ‘Change for America’ he seemed forlorn and so, surmised, to lift his spirits, he’d jump inside a makeshift cat ride.

He meowed, “Where are the ropes and handles, and how do you make this glide? I’d like to forget my worries and go for a wicked ride!”

I soberly told him, “We’ve had to sell the ropes and handles, I almost sold the glide, times are getting tough, I had to sell them to another franchise. But try not to worry, please try not to fret, (I loathed telling him the worst isn’t over yet). We’ll find replacements, maybe even find a new glide, big enough for two, and you can even drive.”

Fib responded, “Well, maybe we can borrow the basket for a while, maybe use it as a collection for extra tithes, and then donate the change to help rid America of the corporate thugs and Wall Street thieving hives.” I thought to myself, never underestimate the curious cat who sits inside a bunny basket, half his size.

If only I’d stayed home…

Bartholomew Foggerty, the brilliant weasel
Had just knocked over a can of diesel
The studio now stank up to high heaven
And he was expecting a sitter over at seven
He’d spent the whole day in bed
Nursing a rather painful head
The previous night he’d been on the town
In an attempt his sorrows to drown
But after drinking at the Wild Rover
He now had a massive hangover
He cleaned up the mess just in time
To hear the front door bell chime
The sitter came in and took her place
A charming young girl with a pleasing face
Although not quite an English rose
Especially the way she turned up her nose
But Bart put it down, as well
He might to the smell
Of diesel fumes that filled the air
Which he was doing his best to bear
He also was doing his very best
Not to be sick down his vest
But when the girl herself turned quite green
Bart ran to the window, out to lean
The fresh air calmed his bile
And he seemed quite fine for a while
But after an hour he could bear no more
Of the work or the stain on the floor
Which reminded him of his folly
And the girl exclaimed loudly: Golly!
It’s after eight I’ll have to hurry
I’m having dinner down in Surrey
Come back next week Bart then told her
And placed a paw on her shoulder
I’m sure the stench will by then be gone
And we can calmly carry on
It won’t take much for me to finish
And if I may say you’re quite a dish.
The girl was outraged at the least
She slapped him and called him a beast
I’ll only come back if you promise
To be a quite decorous and quite nice
I’ll not stand for comments or for leers
From a weasel far too fond of his beers
As she left Bart felt quite sick
And ran to the bathroom double quick
He was ill over a new rug he’d bought
And then sat down and sadly thought
As he clutched his fragile belly
If only I’d stayed home and watched the telly!

Iain.

If only I were a dog

I'd work for
ear scratches
and biscuits

not all that hard
a tail wag and
a head tilt

I'd know
company's coming
before they arrive

bark at the
neighbor kids
nap in the sun

until dinnertime
nap by the fire
after dinner

yes, if only
I had a
dog's life

If Only

If only......, I say to myself so often,
but it doesn't happen, and I
try to resign myself to the
fact that it most likely never
will. I worry, often wish I could
set the course, pray for
good solutions. I don't
understand why everything
is always so hard. I wish
I could just have today be
enough, that I could just
hug the kids, love them,
laugh with them and let
tomorrow take care of itself.
I wish I could have faith
that it would.

IF ONLY

You're fiddling with the tap
which drips and drips
and drives you crazy
but you don't want to call a plumber
because you're sure you can fix it yourself
if you only you had the right tools.

I ask, how's it going.
You turn
and when you see it's me,
the smile in your eyes
oh that smile
cuts through me
like the devil's knife
and I think once again,
how lucky am I to have a man
who looks at me this way?

How I wish
I could capture this single moment
and bottle it up
like dandelion wine,
a vital comfort
should winter come.

If Only

If only I were more pretty, taller, blonde,
Had a better body, firmer breasts
Slimmer thighs, longer hair

If only I had more money, a better job
Lived somewhere else
Were less sensitive
Didn’t care so much
Listened more, talked less

If only I liked brussle sprouts
Baseball, football, big dogs
Fast cars
And going to the gym

If only I were all these things
Well then I wouldn’t be me.

If Only…
By: Meena Rose

If only, I had the courage to speak my mind;
If only, I had the courage to give voice to my concerns;
If only…

If only, I had the courage to say I am sorry;
If only, I had the courage to say I love you;
If only…

If only, I was able to tell you before you left;
If only, I was able to hold you, now I am bereft;
If only…

If only, I was able to see you before you died;
If only, I was able to to tell you that I lied;
If only…

Then, perhaps, I would not be so lonely.

,
If only thinking made it so
We would likely
spend much time apologizing.
.

If only I had enough
money to buy us a house,
so that we didn't have
to make special plans.
I want to wake up next
to you every morning,
not just twice a week.
If only I had enough
money to take care
of the both of us.
I would do everything
in my power to care
for you and make you
comfortable.
If only.

If only I dreamed
You would deliver me heavenly
Ribbons of majenta waves
Woven within orange sicle wisps
Brightened by halos
Of departed souls, lost
But never forgotten
Dancing in darkened skies
Still praying for moonlit eve
When a kiss carried Oz like powers
And a vanquished dream
Came true, always.
(There's no place like home)

November Poetry Challenge Day12 “If Only…”

If Only I Could Let It Go

You know what I’m talking about—
The newly mopped floor now muddied,
The college son’s room readied like
A four-star Bed and Breakfast, which in five
Minutes of his arrival resembles a flop house,
The car I just detailed now sanded by
A drive to the beach, even the cats hop
In the litter box the second I scoop it out—
I never get over the ephemeral nature
Of the clean world.

Accident Pantoum
If only the car hadn’t turned
at the first red light on the next block,
not waiting for the next green,
instead, getting smashed by the truck.

At the first red light on the next block,
five other cars stopped in time.
Instead of getting smashed by the truck,
They could call 911 on time.

Five other cars stopping in time
can sometimes cause other cars to crash.
As they are calling 911 on time,
someone else slams them into their dash.

Causing other cars to crash,
those do-gooders accidentally did wrong
as someone else slams them into their dash,
they drop all of their phones.

In this pile up it’s hard to tell who’s at fault:
not waiting for the next green,
or talking on their phones.
If only the car hadn’t turned.

“If Only” is a Wishful Thought

“If only” is a wishful thought,
Oft uttered in a sigh;
A past regret,
A deed not done,
A chance that slipped on by.

What might have been cannot be known,
The past can’t be undone;
Decisions made,
Acts performed,
Songs better left unsung.

If we could think before we spoke,
Could look before we leapt;
Could be aware.
Could see what’s real,
Our errors could accept,

Then we would see a change in life,
From what has come before:
We might not need
To ever say
“If only” anymore.

If Only I’d Known

So silly our fight, over cereal
And the sun barely up
You’d cut yourself shaving
Again; I remember the blood
Still oozing through the paper scrap
As we avoided each other’s eyes

Still you bent to kiss my lips
And I, stubborn as always, turned
So caught what you proffered in my hair
Caught also, the hurt in your eyes
As you straightened to leave the house

When the door clicked quietly behind you
I felt that old sadness in the pit of my stomach
And almost got up to chase after you
Like in the old days – I’d call, “good-bye”
And, “sorry – see you later darling?”

Maybe I sensed? If only I’d known...
Perhaps on some level I did know
When you weren’t home at your usual time
I knew you hadn’t gone for ‘one with the boys’
It was with no surprise; I opened the door
To find the police – if only I’d known...

:If only you could taste the moon:

Close your eyes and free the teeth
to soak in the bends of that slowly
steeped white. The heat will dance
across your tongue. Feel the sacred

browns glide down like steam, like pins,
and the mist of snow that wheels you,
sinks you further down, down, until

you are left bare, smooth in deep
copper tones. Yes, lick that frozen tapestry.
Taste it like star bursts, liquid explosions
on your taste buds. Let it curl your toes

until you rise, strung by the milky thread
from moon to the hollows of you.

If Only She Could Have Asked For Help

I’d call,
She’d answer,
Smiling through,
Not letting on
how illness crept,
telling of this
and that,
no inkling how
it really was,
until one day
she didn’t answer,
they found her,
hunched over
her knees,
oxygen still on,
nebulizer humming,
vials strewn,
needles ready,
not in time,
this time.

Never alone

If only the wealthy were entitled
to rustle the autumn leaves
or see clouds turn melon orange
as the sun slips past the edge-
if they alone were granted love and joy,
I might lose faith in eternal jsutice.

If only the poor could suffer heartache,
or fall victim to cancer and asthma-
if they alone lost children and parents
in fiery mangled cars along the highways,
I might doubt our universal fallen
state. But misery and joy are sprinkled
liberally across the population,
and all are free to rise above the one,
and grab as best they can the other.

If Only I Could


If only I could
turn back time
I would correct
so many mistakes
I had made
in my life.

If only I could
turn back time
I would wait
for you
to come along
in my life.

If only I could
but I can’t
so I am satisfied
and happy
that I got you now
as my loving husband
for the rest of our lives.


Noreen Ann Jenkins, published author of
You'll Learn to Love Me

If only I hadn't said yes
but why wish for things
that might be monsters
waiting in closets
might be a soft and moldy pepper
in the bottom of the crisper?
If I hadn't said yes
maybe I'd still be waiting
at home
living my mother's life
in duplicate
choosy and discriminating
until I was left with no choice.
What movies might I not have seen?
What vague oriental cuisines
not have sampled?
Never mind the children
who have kept me here in the world
of yes all this time,
never mind the dogs, cats and
Siberian hamsters that needed me
to say yes,
never mind the eight moves
and just as many part-time jobs
that wouldn't have been
maybe I didn't have a choice
Thinking back
I still would have said yes if
I had seen this night
of you holding me
my tears sopped by your shirt
trying to find a reason
to say no.

If only I had not fought

If only I had not joined in playing in the schoolyard,
I would not have been punished for defending myself.
If only I had not fought back against the school bully.
I would not have been punished for defending myself.
If only I had just let three girls strip me naked to amuse their boyfriends,
I would not have been punished for defending myself.
If only I did not stand up for myself against wrongs over the years,
I would not have been punished for defending myself.
If only I had let the lies and accusations go unopposed,
I would not have been punished for defending myself.
If only I had not been born and fought against wrongs,
I would not have been punished for defending myself.
If only I crawl into my shell and never again emerge,
I will not be punished for defending myself.

If Only I Could Believe
by Juanita Lewison-Snyder


If only I could believe
in you
drink down this
salt-rimmed fear
that rubs
and stings
these open wounds
like scarlet oil.
But integrity
is a fickle creature
and yours
hides in the dark
like octopi
awaiting the next mark,
too many tentacles
in too many business,
leaving a constant trail
of red angry circles
each time you leave
the bar to
trade up.


© 2009 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

There is no way with what I came up with that I could keep to Matilda/parrot so for today this is for Mom:

If Only

If only memories could be
Found at any price.

Once gone they cannot be returned,
Never reclaimed. I sit daily having
Lunch with a stranger that knows my name,
Yet I cannot recall hers. She calls me Mother.

mkm

If Only People Could Smile More

If only the world wasn't such a mess,
If only we could make love, not war
If only we could smile instead of frown
If only there was never a closed door.

If only we had sunshine every day
To chase away the rain
If only we had joy at every turn
To ease away the pain.

If only everyone had a family,
someone to call their own
If only there wasn't loneliness
And everyone had a place to call home.

If and only if
the if word did not exist
then no difference

If Only Love Were Like ...

If only love were like
A box of chocolates,
I’d custom-fill mine
With cocoa-covered
Caramels, whose ooey-
Gooey sweetness would,
Over time, harden
Into an iron-clad mass I
Could no longer sink my
Incisors into and consume.
Then, I could eat my candy
But still have it, too.

If only the camera

The trouble with the pleas of non-profit
Organizations is that it is difficult
To have compassion for a piece of
Paper, black letters making broad
Statements laced with statistics that
Should knock one off their feet, but
Don’t.
It is difficult to want to help others
When they are nothing but so much
Fine print on an unsolicited letter.
How much more would we give
If only the camera captured faces,
the faces of those who go without, yet
Smile.

If only I had written it down
That funny thing you said
The events I can’t remember
The songs I’ve heard in my head
The stories I’ve imagined
If only I had written them down
So that I’d never forget

IF ONLY

No stronger could
a heartbeat be

If only 'twould
repeat for me

~ repeat for me ~