Regret is my hopeful desert
Blooming prickly sorrows
Larger than saguaros
What ifs as vultures fly
As virga clouds pass by
Watering lapis mirages
Flowing to retro success
In a palm-limned oasis
Of dream-filled love and embraces
‘Til what ifs disappear with dawn
In time to rouse and mow my lawn
The jig was up
and the seller got the shaft
as the fletcher (all a-quiver)
pricing feathers (more arrows for to craft)
saw the target total cost (legal tender)
as sky-high (yet altho' not immoral)
let fly and shot his bolt (at the vender)
which started quite the quirky quarrel
I was going to become a teacher
I thought it was my calling
I was young and thought it best
to go to university straight out of high school
before I'd go to teachers' college
Well... things did not go as planned
for better or for worse, who knows
I got sidetracked ended up taking a job
education got shelved for longer than expected
So I worked and launched a modest career
No guidance maybe no brains ~ who knows
But in the end I realized the truth ~
if you don't choose, life chooses for you
Go for your dreams or risk living with regrets
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Forget riffs of regrets
But
To the hilt
We tilt to
Inbuilt lilt
A guilt quilt
Can jilt & wilt
But
No tiffs with what ifs
Won’t let you fret
Circumspect.. I find
Older you get
Bet..more honest…more kind
Care more..know more
Late bloomer rumour
Embraces candour...humour
Respect velvety vagaries
Traces of reflect
Suspect future’s the tutor
Detect serendipity the suitor
Evolution..glints of revolution
Pip that convoluted New Year’s tip
Genuinely don’t genuflect
No sorrow...deflect hints
Of mooted rebooted resolution
Suspect Tomorrow might
Be your best day yet!
Ordinary days, just like before,
No one knows the feeling of being ignored.
It's always that one who makes the heart beat fast,
In every way, giving the heart a blast.
That someone is too far from reality,
The impossible hits differently.
Too good to be true to notice,
Even in the smallest way, there's no space.
It’s always you that gives a butterfly.
It’s you that brings a fast-forward to imply.
Gives the benefit of the doubt to try,
Risking something just to be with you and cry.
You’re my “what ifs” sometimes,
And also, you’re my “at least” every time.
It’s better to give a little shot,
Than to give the negative and make a plot.
What if I tore up the map -
not gentle, but ruthless,
ripping until the roads bled white,
and let my feet kiss the dirt
like they were born to wander?
What if I spit out the words
I’ve swallowed for years,
each syllable a blade,
carving silence into something
that finally screams back?
What if I let the darkness in-
not as a foe, but a lover,
its black hands pressed to my chest,
whispering truths
the light was too cowardly to hold?
What if I stayed in the fire -
let the flames peel me raw,
until I rose, ember-eyed and grinning,
no ash left to bury me,
only the bones of someone new?
What if I dared the edge,
made falling an act of rebellion,
an art form,
gravity nothing but a jealous god
I refused to kneel to?
The what ifs are wolves,
pacing the dark of my mind,
teeth bared, breath hot -
and I let them feast,
because this is my hunger,
my rebellion, my reckoning.
And what if I stopped asking?
What if I grinned with bloodied lips,
spat in the eye of silence,
and did the thing
they swore I couldn’t survive?
Worrying About What If’s
Miracle Man
November 24th 2023
Many fret about things,
before they occur.
This tends to drive me,
straight up the wall.
This practice can cause,
my words to slur,
Please wait until it happens,
before you call.
“Worry cannot solve one problem,
Or add one cubit to my day.
Things in life that I can’t handle
Jesus always knows the way”
Tom
I Want to live this world amazingly
But the habit of overthinking
Has been making things messy
The what ifs are being overpowered
The big childhood dreams
Are being shattered
It's like living in a time loop
An unstoppable droll
To which I must reroute
Certainly. There's lotsa stuff
that's no more.
Certainty, like death, is forever.
Change stops when you're dead.
Change does just that, keeps changing.
You can give up smoking
yet you can't give up changing.
Gave up smokin' fifty years ago.
Cigarettes, ash trays, things of my past.
There's something about ashes
everyone eventually ends up there.
Many of us make ashes of ourselves.
These Ifs surely can get ya.
And those Ands keep comin'.
But the Butts
no more for me.
Funny how this works.
Certainty, good riddance.
No Ifs Ands or Butts.
19 Lines Free Verse 93 Words October 2022
Pen illustration G. Gaul
swirl round and round
in my night skies
drifting off
soon out of sight
vanishing without a chance
as if they never were
and then when things go numb
i reinvent new bubbles to launch
with no trace of illusion
AP: 2nd place 2022, 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2022
An A.P.* who was filling in
To read aloud on Zoom
Just grabbed a book his own kids faved
And thereby met his doom.
The second graders loved it
But it didn’t make the cut
With his boss, because the title talked
Of needing a new butt.
The humor’s aimed at children
And describes, in certain parts,
The different types of derrieres
And also talks of farts.
Reluctant readers sometimes need
Such talk to be inspired
But still, the one who read it
Found out he had gotten fired.
This happened while America
Was celebrating reading
And surely censorship like this
Is not what kids are needing.
*Assistant principal
Staring at the blue
imperfections in my eyes
like static pops
swirls and tweeks
wisp creatures contour my eyeballs
like another universe unveiled
between the what is and what ifs
I like to drive with the windows down,
White noise,
To drown out how whack the wheels sound.
My mind spits and sputters,
Mouth mumbles,
Words come out jumbled.
I hate the sound of myself,
My voice is too choppy,
Vocals hella noisy.
Audio stimulation,
Too much,
Overwhelms,
Mixed emotions they are hit and miss.
Less enthusiasm,
Live more,
Damnit,
Lie less,
Succeed more.
Why do I hate my right to a voice?
My right to speak up against the what ifs.
Walk the path,
Push through the storm,
Overcome the overwhelmed feeling.
Praise me,
I learned to live with and stand up for me.
I could have known
So that I would have go
And should have let go
So many IFS
If the world had been more caring
If we had been less selfish
If the world had been at peace
If Palestine had been free
If Israel had not adapted the Nazi regime
If we had shown more respect
If hatred had been less
If we had more passion for what’s right
If, by law, we could stop wars.
If nature had been taken care of
There might be a chance for those
Coming after us.
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