what if
hey it’s me alive from the dead
(i)
…with some thoughts that i wish to share.
i’d like it if you’d hear my head,
and follow this note if you dare?
so i thought i just might post some hearts,
and i thought i might engage your brain.
words shoot through my mouth like darts.
another awful rhyme albeit disdain.
will you speculate awhile with your deathly friend?
because some words unsaid make days grow stiff.
so i scribe verbose these feelings i’ve penned —
lets ponder a while about what if?
(ii)
i recall some words that made me sigh —
i want to mix it up and make you spin,
i regret not having my moment’s reply
to a song you spoke that made me grin:
what if i’m a snowstorm burning?
what if i’m a world unturning?
what if i’m an ocean,
far too shallow, much too deep?
what if i’m the kindest demon?
something you may not believe in?
what if i’m a siren singing gentlemen to sleep?
these the words you said so free are carved upon my mental tree…
but your snowstorm burns away my frowning,
your unturning earth ceases my time.
and deep shallow seas keep me from drowning,
demonic kindness soothes a heart of mine.
i’ll believe in you always and forever,
though you may hardly ever feel so grand…
i lament your sirens sounding so stellar,
a poison so good it should be banned.
(iii)
and then you said with apprehension
some more concepts that probe my musing —
seeing i struggle with comprehension,
the following notion was quite confusing:
and what if i’m a weeping willow,
laughing tears upon my pillow?
what if i’m a socialite who wants to be alone?
what if i’m a toothless leopard?
what if i’m a sheepless shepherd?
what if i’m an angel without wings to take me home?
then i thought and then i pondered if you ever stopped and ever wondered:
that your crying tree made me feel your equal,
and your salty pillow was the sweetest scent.
a toothless cat wouldn’t eat many people,
and a lone shepherd bares no dark intent.
in regards to your grounded angel:
clearly we both know that’s a lie —
your tattoo is a symbol immortally graceful,
that catches the air and raises you high!
(iv)
sometimes i obsess what was the cause
for us to squander in anguished fear?
but still life goes on without a pause,
and this song i silently dread to hear:
what if i’m a crowded desert,
too much pain with little pleasure?
what if i’m the nicest place you never want to go…
what if i don’t know who i am?
now i stop near my conclusion to halt and question an inept delusion:
a baronless desert is a divine miracle
where trees can grow and flowers will bloom —
a nicest place that sounds so fictional,
free of pain, and thirst, and doom.
i’d traverse this plain of abundant pleasure
and i’d come back every chance i may,
where who you are is the ultimate treasure:
where beauty and grace fills up my day.
(v)
what if the gust and all the shadows,
threw our dust beneath the hallows?
so what if we lost what we could have gained?
or what if we’re lost, paralysed, and maimed?
but what if we share the perfect zen?
and what if we survive the fall?
or what if it was, like it was then?
and what if we, can have it all?
— me
