Why not cry?
When you are soaked and overshadowed,
Why not cry aloud?
Cry to release the pain
Of the poor soul, deeply wounded.
Is it unfair? Is it senseless?
I wonder why, why and why
The pain of a drowning man
Cannot be poured out through tears.
No! Though hopeless and faded,
Please, release it — just cry.
Cry in prayer at Jesus' cross,
And let your pain be relieved.
Who us?
I never thought
of that particular
pairing of hearts and minds, but then
why not?
Strangers
are life's puzzles,
I don't want to figure
out more lest my heart break again,
I say!.
Indeed
you know me when
I am happy or sad,
and when I've been lost you found me~
let's give
a try,
if it goes my friend, then who knows
we may turn out to be
a perfect match,
let's see!
Reading books ~ a passion on a cold winter's day or night.
I hammered some words
out from the quarry of my brain.
They fell around in shards;
some like boulders,
some like rocks and rubble.
I picked them up one by one.
Block on block, I piled them up,
thinking I could build a ‘pleasure dome’
But,
when it was time for the workman
to marvel over the beauty and wonder
of his dream creation,
his masonry tumbled down
like sand castles built
by little hands in sea strands
or dunes of quicksand sliding down.
I have lost count of the times,
this has happened before.
Now I stay resigned,
amid a heap of debris and ask myself-
“Is there any use feeling remorse”?
Like Nero fiddling on his harp,
when Rome was burning,
I sit on this pile of wreck
piping my thoughts away.
In the cusp between victory and defeat
I have charted my future action plan-
decided not to cry over spilt milk,
but to start over and continue my work,
till I can erect a ‘pleasure dome’ of words
as our famed poet Coleridge did!
Why not keep trying again and again as the spider
that inspired King Robert Bruce.... !
Why not go on until I succeed ??
Why not get caught up?
With the everyday chores, I fought,
especially household ones, I thought.
I have gotten old, and the effort came to naught.
Why not start the date scene since I’ve become a widow?
But the loss has made me a hippo.
I am set on my way in my interests and passions, ditto
mindset. I love my space, peace, and quiet, kiddo.
Why not learn to adapt?
Exploring new hobbies for the handicapped.
My phone, a piece of technology, was lost to a woman inapt.
Lost at what buttons to push. A joke—I’m trapped.
Why not seek rhythm and balance
or maintain personal interests of my talents?
With vertigo and a phobia of people, I’m always unbalanced.
I cannot even try to replace and hang a new valance.
Why not? I can go on
a list that goes on and on.
I yawn.
Ditto.
I have a lovely thought.
It spins through my mind again and again.
I think to myself
why not use it as a quatern’s sweet refrain?
I have a tale to tell.
It’s both melodic and a little sad.
My muse comes along and says
Why not write it as a ballad?
Sometimes I feel silly
and want to make folks laugh.
Why not write a limerick
on something like a too-short-necked giraffe?
Lines of just two syllables
in my head begin to pound.
I decide why not
be footling around?
Something short but wonderful
gives my muse a spark.
Why not write a monoku -
far better than a mere remark.
At times I grow reflective
on a topic for a sonnet.
Why not use those 14 lines
of iambic pentameter on it?
And why not try free verse?
(some people say to me.)
That’s not always easy,
so as I am doing now – I rhyme my poetry.
There are rules to minds
that we may not be aware we set
Yet we also choose for processes to exist
that we forget, interrupting these values of gratitude
through stages in which we reflect
through forms of reasoning;
for the ears and tongues of my laymen:
emotions guide you to what you want;
depression, anxiety, reoccurring traumas
bear sensibility when any of those feelings
lead you to help.
Nothing will make sense
without taking whichever steps are needed
to leave this hell.
It makes sense, making choices
based off of feelings that have always taken you
to where you believe you should be taken.
This does not create an inherent price
for your judgment to come back
with fairness as a cost.
It's only a metaphorical transaction.
As much as the feeling of horror
may overcome a person,
the same strength of that feeling
can be mimicked by any of our emotions.
Why could it not?
If something can traumatize,
something can heal;
It doesn’t always rain,
I've seen beautiful weather at funerals.
Why not come out of your shell,
breaking that hermit spell,
where the wallflower sits alone
without any backbone?
Contest the contests
without any further protests.
Find yourself at the end of the pier,
on the sunny side of despair,
casting a line into the belly of the beast,
letting that pent-up jelly on being released.
Your backbone will thank you.
There might even be a bounce in your shoes.
So why not untie the knot?
Because when I connect the dots, I win squat.
Everyone else wins a rose,
I get ... "la de da la de da"...the hose.
I’m tired of being disposed,
so this case (head?) should be closed.
This entry ... "la de da la de da"... was a dash,
But now it has hit the trash.
connie pachecho
12/16/25
Why not write a sonnet about a love lost
Its emotional ending and heartfelt cost
Why not write a free verse about life's road
With hair turned gray and skin furrowed
Why not write a poem about familiar dreams
Of flying to stars and gliding on moonbeams
Why not write a poem with alliteration
Whose possible purpose proposes participation
Why not write a poem in a style unknown
Explaining how little your skill has grown
Why not seek out the poetry of old
That lies in your closet, dusty and cold
Why not cross pens with poets you read
To fill the pages with tears that will bleed
Why not hope your poem will place
So you can find a smile on your face
I’ve heard of those searching for love
They often seek the light in the shadows
But my heart always sought One above
He’s the answer… the One who arose!
I’ve heard of hearts who’re always yearning
They pursue their fate without a thought
Hoping for a life full of love that keeps burning
Reminding that true love cannot be bought
I’ve heard of souls who follow each rainbow
Hoping at the end there will be a pot of gold
But I have no doubt that real love will bestow
Each one with a love that will never grow old
I’ve heard of those who try to find it all
Beyond the promises that tell us we’re blessed
By the love that comes from hearing His call
And answering with adoration our hearts expressed
I’ve heard of all the reasons we may have to doubt
But I know someone who loves despite our sin
He offers forgiveness and peace – so I must shout
It is a love that will ever be a light deep within!
I’ve heard of all the reasons that my heart should hate
But I know of One whose love just grows and grows
Why shouldn’t I offer Him this love in my soul – my fate
Why not? When the truth is that He is the love I chose!
As my anxiety reaches my boiling point
I snip the last flower from my winter's dying rose bush
I play the I will or the I won't game pulling off each petal one-by-one
Will I or won't I write a poem about "Why not"
I've really got nothing better to do with my time
So, why not just write a poem with a "Rhyme"
I'll write why not in a "Limerick" form
I know why not is not of the norm
but this is all I've got
That includes a why not
I just put together some words that conform
I'll just write a "Monoku" that has seventeen syllables- why not?
I'll write a "Tanka"
Though it's hard to add- why not
Maybe a "Footle"
Here's one that I think should work
"Why Not-It's Hot" caboodle
The last petal I plucked from the rose was- "I will"
So, I found something good to do with my time
I've written some poetry, and I've added my dots
And I've incorporated into them a whole lot of "Why nots"
Life may be harsh
and death, more forgiving,
But I have a life to live all the same—
The choice must be mine;
So … Why not?
Love may be bitter
and a loveless life, mournful,
But I must find love all the same—
The choice must be mine;
So … Why not?
Friends may be heartless
and without friends, loneliness,
But friends I must have all the same—
The choice must be mine;
So … Why not?
I was on the right path
and foolhardily ran astray,
But I must get back on track all the same—
The choice must be mine;
So … Why not?
~Contest: Why Not
~Sponsor: John Lawless
"Why Not?" Big question.
Phsychoanalists conclude
The answer is "FEAR"
Why not dream with positive self esteem
See what vision and optimism can bring
Why not be the wind beneath white wing
Be the reason this season blue bird sings
Why not be a romantic thoughtful soul
Be the candlelight despite nights cold
Why not be the blind ones ebony eyes
Speak of colors shapes sun and moonlight
Why not be part of the solution despite
Problems in the world be the good fight
Why not live your life as you see fuchsia fit
Procreate or not yet still innocent as a kid
Why not be a rainbow in a grey cloudy sky
Embracing your own beauty as not denied
Why not talk to creator and question as well
He made you a unique flavor, sit, talk, tell
Why not read my thoughts as scattered as they be
Why not open up your heart share your thoughts with me
As gold streaked across the western horizon
Weighted down by red smeared just above
God sharing His beautiful sunset with all who look
A thought of you arranging it my love
When I woke up with, " Have I told you lately I love you"
Running through my head, I wondered again
Then before that the Holy Spirit whispered
____, I love you, a message from you I did attain?
Why would I share this in poem for all to see
Why not, maybe it will encourage one grieved
Will it place in a contest, who knows
Maybe a message from beyond, I perceived
It doesn't matter if it places in the contest
All I know I felt your presence each time
God I needed the feelings of your presence
To help me make it since I'm past my prime
Help me oh Holy Spirit to make it through each day
I am weak in this period of grieving
Steady me, give me visions of your love
In ways to make it very believing.
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