Best If Not Poems
If not passion then desire, that fills
this heart with fire. At last this heart
has found that hallowed ground at
your side, that place of dreams.
Where the deepness of my love is
borne on wings of angels, where
the words of love tumble, fall as
blossom at your feet. Sincerity
lingers like a fragrance, warm and
inviting, soft as that first kiss. That
first kiss built on the foundations
of forever, of beating hearts in
perfect time. There is passion, there
is desire, but it is the true essence
of love that kindles the emotions
within this heart. Swaying to and fro
like poppies in an open field, this
open field a vastness of the purest
love. Horizons to be reached, wishes
and dreams to be achieved. With
this in mind I forget time and dream
of you in eternity.
if I were not me
who else would you be
my thoughts slip away
your memories fray
let’s go plant a tree
What is to come
if not tomorrow,
when all is left is
no time to borrow
Moments remain still
nothing else matters,
seconds stop ticking
and yesterday shatters
Was today really lived
even any memory made,
as mundane and routine
overshadow and fade
Death only comes
when we never live,
dwelling on pain
all becoming negative
Throwing away hours
and wasting a minute,
the time of your life
is surely not infinite
Live relentlessly until
the last breath is taken,
dream on and on again
until illusion is shaken
Be left with memories
not regret or sorrow,
in time for today
if not tomorrow.
When I’m enticed by the allure of forever,
Ambivalent, I query, prospect of eternity:
If there’s no dying, what fate’s my destiny?
Would such existence be sans meaning?
Would I be the compassion of pious soul
If I am blessed with permanence of life,
Or a deathly tomb of a heartless stone
Dispassionately ignoring wounds of strife.
Having been spared of inevitable death
Will I become an arrogant tyrant’s shrill,
Or will I rule alike a kingdom of goodwill
Embracing venerated grace of cordiality.
Would I be a garden of spring blossoms
Or scorched landscape of barren desert,
Would I be a resplendent autumnal show
Or decaying rot of woes in wintry throes.
Would I be a night of nightingale’s song
Invoking themes of endearing dreams,
Or would I be echo of horrid nightmares
Howling in dawn of things gone wrong.
Immortality, I fear, will lure me ignobly,
If not a mortal, unknowable I would be;
But for transience, would humble life be?
If not for dying, would precious living be?
April 23, 2022
Placed 1st: If I were Immortal Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
What am I if not a slave?
I cook, clean and mourn;
I wash, sweep and weep
from dawn to fall of night.
I do nothing but cooking;
I cook all day,
three times a day,
from dawn to fall of night.
What are you if not a master?
You eat, teach and cheat;
you write, drink and sleep
from dawn to fall of night.
For three long decades,
I’ve cleaned your dishes:
empty, dirty dishes
from dawn to fall of night.
What’s marriage if not serfdom?
You are my master;
I am merely a slave.
You do your part; I mine.
From dawn to fall of night
and back to break of day.
A 1st placement in the following contest (judged on Aug. 24, 2020: It's not really a contest, rather it's an opportunity to showcase our first poem on Poetry Soup.)
Your first poem on Poetry Soup
Sponsor: Silent One
If I had never seen the morning sun,
I still would know the light because of you.
If we were miles apart then I would run,
til the steps between us were but a few.
If there were no roof up above our heads,
then our love would give shelter from the storm.
If the winter winds blow and our clothes threads,
I would give all of mine to keep you warm.
If we had a new chance to start again,
I would begin my life's journey with you.
If I had to walk with another freind,
l would be left not knowing what to do.
If I could hold you forever, I would.
Forever isn't promised, now is good.
10/20/18
Garlands draped and strung.
White creeper blossoms
reminiscent of snow
penta-hedron, vase shaped,
single bells. Five sepal-ed,
finial, fillistered,
flower bowls.
Such delicate geometry
predestined from a seed
Destiny, fate and duty
will always mock one another.
Power struggles between courage
and cowardice, rest in the lap of higher powers.
Increments, irrelevant to atoms.
All that will unfold
is manifest in flowers.
Suzanne Delaney
The breath in me weakened
even before we became one.
Every palpitation was priceless
Her presence was deliberate
Her purpose was me.
My heart slowed with the possibility
Of her entrance into the same room
She was near when I collapsed.
I was going to be cupid's conman
that day just to steal a kiss of life.
She broke the ice to ask if I
was okay, as she felt my wrist,
It happens I would always pulse for her.
Then as she neared to open my chin
I felt the warm breathe of life within.
We counted the seconds that passed
While pressing insistently on my chest
Two rings meant to be linked together
It was magisterial what she did for me
But now I would need her lips forever.
You were here for me, but then you left.
Took my heart and it was theft.
You promised me that you would love me forever.
I wish I was clever enough to not go down that road, ever.
You were the only one I trusted.
But now I am disgusted.You were my best friend; my only friend.
Pretending like nothing happened. Pretend.
All I need is someone to love me.
Now you are free.
I hope you're loving to your full potential.
Being happy is all that's essential.
I am heartbroken.
Your words will never be outspoken.
I will have to live with the pain.
Then I won't have anyone to blame.
Thank you for teaching me a lesson, I will never forget.
Now I have a better mindset.
You say you needed to wait
So I gave you space
Said things couldn’t happen this way
And that you wanted to embrace
The good things life had to offer
But when the time is right, you’ll do
If not me, than who?
With one breath you said I’m unhappy
I offered you the best of me
You declined, replied Boi we’ll see
The other side of your mouth says something different
It’s easy for me to put the facts together and make a inference
I hope you find what it is you seek
Just a shame, he’s not in Me!
Maybe just maybe I’m not person to be with you
If not me, than who?
Go ahead, do your thing and see where it gets you
Don’t expect me to wait around with nothing to do
I’m young, and there is a lot out there
Separate ways we part, and you not care
I have not control, or part in what you do
If it's not me you want, than who?
If not so much now
How could I know how to say
Love will rise anew
CURSED IF NOT TAKEN FIRST
‘Tis this stand I and swear to thee
Before she goes Lord please take me
That these eyes of mine born of blue
Not see the day when I curse you
She may not want now to stay
But first, beg I, take me away
Wherever bound that I may be
Please my Lord, first take me
Spare me the loss of a woman whose inner beauty shone
A lady unlike most or many grown
Forgiveness was her credo known
And pray thee I……..leave me not alone
Please cause not a rift far too wide
That my disdain shall not abide
My soul seeks solace by you, my Lord
But losing her is a price I cannot afford
So raise not an anger within me
That her son’s belief no longer be
So before her death be your decree
Please, my Lord, first take me
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
(words written in honor of a woman, my mom, Mrs. Rita Cohan, whose grace preceded her, and whose kindness was widely known)
If not truth
Then what
Pretence and distance
Simply…..not a lot!
Insincerity and dishonesty
Echoed through hollow words
Spoken
Though never truly heard
Trust diminished
Destroyed by lies
Perpetual doubt
Relationship demise
What am I if not an abandoned house, a cathedral of forgotten and old dreams,
Watching others glow with life, like stars caught in crystal jars,
Painted in joy, while I unravel in the silence of dusty time,
The floors creak under the steps of memories, shadows dancing on the carpet of nostalgia.
They say I am empty, but I am full, like a sky heavy with unwept storms,
Full of traces and voices that once promised to stay, echoes trapped between walls,
Of laughter seeping through the cracked ceiling, rain whispering old stories at dusk,
Each drop measuring the time passed, invisible angels singing in chorus.
My windows gaze at a world moving on, a river without end,
The walls remember hands that once made me feel whole,
Now, ivy creeps where warmth once lived, dreams seeking shelter,
Time’s shadows weave webs over dark corners, silence is my cloak.
And yet, I remain, a relic of what was, a story on the parchment of forgetting,
A monument of the past, home to ghosts that still refuse to leave,
Their shadows dancing in the moonlight, spirits singing a lullaby,
I am not lifeless, just tired of being left behind and alone.
Even the forgotten were once loved, even the broken were once home,
An abandoned house, but not without soul, sanctuary of silence and tales,
Love does not completely vanish, it lives in the whispers of the wind through walls,
A song of longing and hope, endless and deep, light in the darkness.
Who am I,
if not myself?
If I cannot express myself with words,
laugh like I do,
chew my lower lip
or stare into space while thinking.
Who am I,
if not myself?
The one who always makes time to help,
to listen or just to be there.
Giving a hug,
a word of encouragement
or move mountains if I cared for you.
Who am I,
if not myself?
Soft hearted,
sometimes moody,
shy and so damn trustworthy.
Who am I,
if not myself?
When I trust without judgement,
love unconditionally and completely,
still getting myself trampled on or back-stabbed along the way.
Who am I,
if not myself?
would you want to know me if I was someone else?