Perhaps, I were your wife,
Would you have made me a paper tiger,
one that looks fierce but cannot bite?
Perhaps, I were your husband,
Would you have used feminism to emasculate me,
turning me into a yo-yo at your whim?
Perhaps, I were your friend,
Would you have made me a clown,
one who makes you laugh but lives in sorrow?
Perhaps, I were your servant,
Would you have made me a sea squirt,
eating his own brain just to serve you?
Perhaps, I were your parent,
Would you have made me a burden,
one who bends his back to feed your pride?
Perhaps, I were your child,
Would you have made me subservient to your greed,
one who loses his future to your ego?
Perhaps, I weren’t yet born,
Would you have been proud to weave me in your DNA,
one you breathe life into to erase your doubts?
Perhaps, this were only a poem,
Would you have thought of it a classic,
one that would stand the firm test of time?
Blue topaz delight constantly in motion
forcing up salty waves of might
Feel the sand under your feet,
feel it ride back to the sea
Cool wet ocean aroma
crashing on the rocks of the border
Spray forth into the air
Dried sea squirt upon my face, skin and hair
Drift wood beaten by the master,
you lay stretched out with seaweed stuck to your side
dehydrated from the sun, reshaped, unworn, overdone
The sea is unkind to all that enter her blind
For she has a mind of her own
To many a tale she’s has claimed
twisted ships, boats and all that were maimed
Rest quietly now on her sands of splendor
For when night approaches all must surrender
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