Best If Poems


Premium Member If This Was My Last Poem

Come to me my beloved,
save me from life's brutalities,
so this heart can soften -
sparkle like a million fireflies.

For you hold the light
to illuminate my soul.
For you are the ceremony
and I the dance.
As you come near,
I'll spin like a mad man,
dancing in the rain.

If to touch you is a sin,
then I am a sinner,
yearning to sin till my last breath.

If to hold you, means to lose everything,
then I will live as a penniless man,
rich within the luxuries of your affection.

If to love you is a crime,
then I am a criminal,
lock me away and dispose of the key,
chain me within the chambers of your heart.

If this is my last poem,
then let these words become spirits,
sleeping within the sacred sanctuary 
of your supernal soul.

Silent One
Simple Musing
5 January 2019
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member If

If you could hear echoes from my heart now,               
would you perhaps reflect and wonder how
I have longed to hear your melodic voice  
flow in symphony with mine and rejoice.
I cry out for you when you are not here
with silence resonating an empty sphere.
Tender spoken words of love that I seek
to perforate a muted day so bleak.

If you could see me through veils of sorrow,    
would you give light for a bright tomorrow ?
Could your eyes feast upon me just once more         
as they did back then when they gently bore      
and pierced to capture my spirit and soul - 
a hunger that consumes to leave unwhole.
To paint life again with shades of colours
that conceals the blackness that discolours.

If you could embrace and seduce me now,
would you and your absent heart know how
I have yearned many a still, lonely night
to share with you dawn’s arrival of light.        
Entwined in your arms where it all begun       
where passing of years intense love was spun.
Woven into our lives with webs of desire
like a moth to flame with burnt wings on fire.                                             

If you could see we were drifting apart,             
damaged vessel sinking a lonely heart -            
would you steer your ship on a stormy sea,  
let down guarded sails back to rescue me?                        
Save a drowning soul through winds of love;             
resurrect once more to float from above.
Bring waves of joy on a moon’s tidal riff,                                
perhaps you would, but then, what if ?

Premium Member If stars were Gold

In
your 
absence
I float in
psychedelic ink
to design a labyrinth with 
rainbow roses drenched in turquoise tears and metaphors.
But, if stars were gold, and I am love, you'll be the poetic garden that feeds my soul.
Maybe, someday, I'll be more than just a faltering feather~will you then, remind me, how to sing again, steal the light behind the jade moon?


If God Gives Me Tomorrow

If God gives me tomorrow
I'll try to stop crying
unlike this dark night
where I fear that I'm dying

If He gives me tomorrow
I'll let go of today
I'll hold onto the good things
and the rest throw away

In the grass I'll walk barefoot
and make friends with a bird
A deaf ear shall I turn to
any harsh, evil word

I will look through the skin
to search out the soul
for therein lie treasures
that make someone whole

If God gives me tomorrow
a new song shall I sing
With the heavenly choirs
our voices will ring

Won't waste time with worry
and neither will fret
No more whiling my hours
in pools of regret

Each day is a do-over
a brand new start
to expressing your love
and unlocking your heart

So much to accomplish
new seed to be sown
in ground lying fallow
where good crops are grown

I'll do what I can
to ease someone's sorrow
by sharing a smile ~

if God gives me tomorrow

If You Weren'T Such a Nut Meg

She had so many chances
     Yet she kept muffin it up
Butter intentions were good
     Just not much coffee in her cup

Couldn’t make a good decision
     Too much waffling back and forth
Always peppered with doubt
     Should she head south, no maybe north

Still, she was fun at a party
     I would say, hummus a tune
She’d say, "Icing because I’m happy"
     As the words began to croon

Maybe that’s what’s most important
     Omelet let her off the hook
So she’s always in a pickle
     Doesn’t do things by the book

Once again, I’m gonna help her
     Since she is such a good egg
I said, girl, you’d go much farther
                   If you weren’t such a nut Meg

Premium Member If I Were a Flower

A blossom I’ll be on the wreaths for peace
An offering to deity to feed world’s hungry
I’ll be the garden on every troubled street
Preening as gleefully as exuberant tulips
Swaying with spring in rhythms of daffodils

I’ll be the laudable bouquet of friendship
An emissary of cupid when love is elusive
A gift I’ll be, from souls of dreams romantic
I’ll be the cure when dear-heart is aching
A sensuous rose I’ll be, alluring bride to be

I’ll be sweet smile of expressions in violet 
Pleasing smitten hearts on lilac landscapes
Presenting bell-shaped English bluebells
Tenderly in aura of angel’s blessed grace
I’ll be the enlightenment in lotus of solace

Lovingly I’ll answer every call of your will
In colors of hyacinth upon your window sills
And fragrance of white Lily evoking revelry
Composing gaily dulcet themed melodies 
Strumming floral kisses on your sateen lips

January 31, 2021
Placed 2nd: If I were a flower premium contest


Premium Member If Ever I Don't Know

"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and 
can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words"
                                                                          ~ CS Lewis

If ever I don't know your name
  recall these words that I now write:
no season ever stays the same -
   fall yields to winter, day to night.

If ever I forget your face -
   though hard to fathom now, dear child,
I ask you to recall the days
   we walked on trails through canyons wild.

Those nights we camped under the stars
   and filled our lungs with mountain air,
the trips we took in vans or cars
   while singing songs from here to there.

Remember beach days, Sunday hikes, 
   or at the lake shore skipping stones,
those Saturdays we rode our bikes
   for donuts or for ice cream cones.

I hope you won't become too sad
   nor let my absence cast a pall,
for I will always be your dad
   I pray our good times you'll recall.
   
Now go and make new memories -
   in moving on, you play your part.
Sing soft our favorite melodies,
   I'll sing along deep in your heart.

written 25 June 2022
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Interpretation of If By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep calm when all around you,
Are frustrated, and angry with you,
Always believe in yourself, and be true,
Don’t be too proud, be positive with others too,
All good things come to those who wait,
Don’t ever listen to lies, that’s a fact,
Try to avoid being hated, don’t ever hate,
Do not show off, and from yourself distract.

Dream, but do not let dreams absorb you,
Put all to thought, and exercise this through,
If you succeed, become befallen too,
And meet these dire opposites at their game,
Stand up to truths that you believe in,
They know not what they speak, they only shame,
So jealous of your hard earnings, a twin to sin, 
They try to mimic, to no avail, they do not gain.

Put all you have achieved to one side,
Knowing who you are, believe in do or die,
You might lose, begin again, with it abide,
Tell no one of any loss, reach for the sky,
If you can use your strength, and soul,
To carry on, as grace helps you to become whole,
And try everything within, to reach your goal,
Tell them I’ll carry on, not dig myself a hole.

If you speak with others, to thy self be true,
Be proud, never lose sight of who you are,
If friend or foes have no ability to scar,
If they agree with what you say, but not with all,
Be forgiving, don’t think you're better, and then fall,
If all you say is sound within sixty seconds,
You have achieved your worth, which always beckons,
And - indeed more - you’ll be a man my son!


POTW - 8/12/2022

Premium Member If Only My Wish Would Come True

Images of children dwelling in developing world
In plight of poverty~~ some two billion strong,
Fly a flag of existence, waving distress unfurled,
Crooning mournful song: is this where we belong?

Struggling in parched lands of bared dreary sights
World they live in is the world they have known,
Where days of emptiness cede to dreary nights
Churning nightmares as dreams vacant bemoan.

Wishing upon an angel~ I would endeavor to plead
For turning places despaired into domains of hope,
For means to educate, learn skills, write and read,
For rewriting will of destiny, while striving to cope.

If I could bend sorrow and the fate of tomorrow
Seeds of knowledge I’ll sow in the dreaded woe
Marveling the fields of wisdom sprout and grow
As minds edified glow, defying misery’s shadow.

My wish for peace echoes benevolence spurred
As hymns of unity in the temple of goodwill toll
And calls of equity from endearing hearts heard
Reverberate harmony in euphony of sublime soul.

I wish upon a candle, for world to join a sing-along
Lauding pledges of love to spur the youth on and on
Cheering to acclaim: this is where the kids belong~
In benevolence of hearts, over seven billion strong.

June 13, 2022
Placed 1st: If Only My Wish Would Come True Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Premium Member If This Was the Last

i remember all of our first times
all of our poems

i've always been safer in air
yet you kept me afloat in rushing tides
but
without your beautiful silhouette 
eyes see sadness in indigo weeping waves
the whole ocean seems empty to me
unable to stroke like a butterfly
i'm drowning in ripples of loneliness

wondering if that was the last
time I would gaze into your brown eyes

i was lost in your arms now i'm annoyed at being found

labyrinth of lament is a boat trapped in a glass bottle
love is an analogy of two hearts
fate a game of chance without luck

was it the last time
i would roam in your flower garden 
feel heartbeats from your chest
rest upon the softness of your breasts

aroma of your sensual skin still caresses my fingertips
as your memories comfort like a winter scarf

if only it was your lips on my coffee cup
your kiss to soothe the bitterness

yet i'm lonelier than the summer moon
burning away like a fading star
ageing in the transgression of time
grey strands overcoming my appearance 

was that the last time
i would wipe your tears
hold you passionately in my arms

you rise with the music of dawn
whilst i sink in the smoky silent haze of dusk

so i sit upon distant shivery shores
whilst moonlight glimmers upon your turquoise sea
your memories seem more melancholic in the rain
everything seems colder in the confusion of absence

wondering if this will be the last time
i answer you calling my name
hear you tell me you hate me -
then remind me you love me
then portray it in poetry

what if this was the last poem
last time we get to say goodbye
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member If I Were the One For Nicola

If only I could make my way to Paris
To search the boulevards and rainy rues
I'd look to find my lonely heart an heiress
An Irish lass vacationing her muse

We'd find a quiet cafe' on the Seine
Where we could sit and share a laugh or two
By candlelight we'd toast with French champagne
Pretend that we were on our honeymoon

But how could I convince her I'm the one
To make all of her fantasies come true
She knows there's more to life than having fun
In Paris hearts get easily confused

I'd get down on one knee under the stars
Give her the paper ring off my cigar



   an original poem by Daniel Turner

Premium Member If It Wasn't For Poetry-

In love with poetry, spellbound am I-
by force, that takes me to the land of words.
Beyond control, this power has its way
that leads me to present my heart and soul.

This overwhelming power captures me;
like an addiction, I consume fine words
for them to shape the thoughts within my mind;
create great imagery that can be read.

Most poets know this overwhelming pain
of finding special words to paint a theme;
this search for me becomes a magic hunt
of hide and seek to capture them like prey.

Consuming is this poet’s gift of pen;
the task can be a tiresome marathon
of hours or days, and yet, if lucky can
flow out in minutes on the first clean page.

This love of writing poetry runs deep;
an inner urge that cannot be dispelled;
as captor, captive both, my inner goal-
to find some balance in completed works.

Premium Member If I Could Play the Violin

If I could play the violin
     I'd write a melody
   euphonious to draw you in
        and play my rhapsody
   to bring a smile to your dear face
     and calm the storm within
if I could play the violin 

If I could play the saxophone
      with timbre silvery
   I'd paint a poem of pure tone
         to laud your alchemy
   for you turn iron into gold
      and granite to gemstone
if I could play the saxophone 

If I could coax an oboe's tone
      a dulcet sound divine
   to craft a raft for you to own -
         a musical lifeline
   when waves have knocked you off your course
      when winter winds have blown
I'd play a soothing oboe tone 

If I could sing a heaven-sent
      anthem or hymn profound
   I wouldn't need an instrument
         when you feel nearly drowned
   I'd whisper arias of hope
      my mouthpiece, bow, and strings
   are prayers for God to heal your wings
and soar beside as heaven sings.
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

If Ever

if i stood
on the ledge
of darkness
aglow in the light
of moonbeams
flickering
like a lost star
beneath clouds
of life's doubt
would you 
step out of shadows
and let yourself
be known

my soul 
has searched
the deepest caverns
scoured hills
and valleys below
looking for yours
but only finds you
masked in dreams
still unknown
as a mystery
that may never be

i've walked
the shores
of eastern seas
counted the grains
of timeless sand
as days until we meet
then felt the lash
of storms
push me back
into the starkness
of reality
as salted sprays
kissed my lips
instead of yours

yet i still yearned
to feel your breath
arousing me
in the winds
that wrapped me
in a blanket of thoughts

i still imagine
the feel
of your touch
against bare flesh
as each day closes
against the darkness
in endless dreams

time is moving
more quickly 
these days
as the years
are fading
of hope

yet still
i await
the spark
of your soul
to light mine
in the flames
of passion
if ever we were
to meet
then arise
like dawn
against
horizons
in an endless
glow

If There Was No Poetry

I could not make sense
of the wonder
would stand 
bewildered and mute

I could not open
and let out
the feelings that well
from my depth

I could not speak truth
and would choke 
on the unsaid words
in my throat

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