Before we get into the prompt, I just want to share my big news: My debut full-length poetry collection, Solving the World’s Problems, is going to be published by Press 53! Click here to read an overly excited post about it.
For today’s prompt, take the phrase “If I Were (Blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Possible titles might be: “If I Were Dreaming,” “If I Were Upset,” or “If I Were-wolf.” (Kinda stretching the boundaries a bit on that last one.) 
Here’s my attempt:
“If I Were Happy”
You’d know by the stars shooting around my head,
my toes skimming the earth. I might smile an inch
wider, maybe hum a song to myself. In fact, I might
hop, skip, and jump–especially in puddles, because
I find there’s nothing that bothers me (not public
humiliation or wet socks) when I’m completely so.
*****
Follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer
*****
Click here to start writing irresistible kidlit!
Congrats, Robert!
If I Were Bitter
If I were bitter
as you are
a pill stuck
in throat and no water,
my words would speak gray
choked smoke, broken spurts
sputtering
fits and starts,
an old coal-stoked train winding
down in exhaustion.
if i were but a violin
by juanita lewison-snyder
if i were but a violin
i would streak my smoky notes across a darkening sky,
stain the hearts of victims the color of blue algae
flat against the vellum of earth’s musical script,
then boomerang the romance back across this chin rest
the same way maple first seduced acoustical catgut.
© 2013 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder
IF I WERE DARING
I’d be like the ladies at Fitness
class at the Senior Center
on this gray, raw, scowling morning.
There was Milly in a blouse of yellow
roses, and Louise wearing swirls
of bright orange-red-yellow fishes
on her trousers, and Lenore with sun-
flowers embroidered on her sweat-
suit. Darleen came in a yellow-
striped vest, bringing a bag of lemons
from her front-yard tree. For warm-
ups, they opened wide
the venetian blinds and lo! last week’s
sunshine leaped out and jumping-
jacked around the room, and skipping
across linoleum.
And there was I in my army-
surplus drab – as drab as the day
I drove here, and not a smile
about me, puckery
without a zest of lemon.
Could those old ladies teach
me how to live?
If I Were a Rich Man
Tovald.
He had it right,
his life built on the tops of roofs,
hands holding golden fiddles,
and tradition.
Tra-di-tion.
Now,
to be a rich man is to stare down the
open maw of hungry vultures,
to lick our wounds in a salt storm,
to plunge into the icy depths
and wait for the sun to rise.
So, we change our definition.
Rich to
Wealthy to
Middle Class to
Smiling to
Happy.
To say that I am happy to truly
say that I am rich.
But, I’m not fooling anyone.
And neither are you.
I may be happy, but
thanks to this new definition
I can barely feed my family.
I may be happy,
but thanks to this new definition
I can barely afford to smile.
Does this make me rich?
Does a smile purchase a gallon of milk
and a loaf of bread?
I work.
And because I work
I am rich.
We have reached that point where
just breathing costs us money.
But, I’m still smiling.
That should account for something, right?
I brainstormed a few just for fun.
If I Were a Pillow
Your head is a baby
Cradled gently.
Goose down,
Memory foam,
Or ‘other’ stuffing.
I capture your fright,
Your lust,
Your happiness,
Your bizarre thoughts in the night.
Trapped in my fill,
You go about your day
And feel
Refreshed or tired,
Energized or tried.
Night after night you return
Like a monogamous lover.
Slip between the bed covers
And let me cradle your head.
If I Were a Cat
Grasp and pull at the carpet till my nails are just right.
Knead, purr, bump, and nuzzle you just right.
Meow, whine until you feed me just right.
Growl, hiss, swipe at the dog cuz he just isn’t right.
If I Were a Tree
My roots, shallow or deep,
hold their ground.
My branches and leaves keep
you safe and sound.
I bend like a stick of gum
when the wind blows.
But sometimes I’m not strong,
and I vacate my hole.
Congrats Robert!
If I Were Able
By David De Jong
January 12, 2013
If I were able, I would build a house
Hewn logs and local quarry stone
Warm with character to espouse
Full beauty, reflected in you alone
The sun would rise over the ocean
Waves and sand would lick your toes
The sun would set over the mountain
Chasing bucks and frolicking does
If I were able, I would build a rocket
Take to the skies some afternoon
Telescope camera in my pocket
I’d fly up to a full summer moon
I would look down and focus on you
Snap a picture, surely quite-a-few
You would be centered every view
Because my world revolves around you
Robert, excellent news, sir. Congratulations!
If I Were Laughing
I would still not make a sound.
I know how much that angers you.
But, you’re so cute when you’re angry.
Your tired eyes.
Your flush’ed cheek.
Your trembling hands and lips.
They remind me of a time long before our time
where you used to raze me for being a slob.
You used to scare me into the pit of a bubbling sauna.
You used to grab me by the waist and squeeze so hard
my spirit would transgress into the ether of the end of time.
That was love, pure and simple, amazing and
deadly.
Where did your humor go?
Your smile?
Your laughter?
Your belly that used to tighten and your
nostrils that used to flare?
It’s still funny,
you and me,
and it’s okay to laugh.
Great work on new book.
If I Were Rain
I’d let my mood swing
with distant thunder
rumbling through the air,
I’d pummel humanity below
flaunting my ire,
or with a gentle touch
beneath a rainbow
kiss the ground.
If I were rain
I would understand
why lands are flooded
or dearth of a parched earth.
My goldilocks hair would fall
perfectly across the land
not too little, not too much,
the right touch each time.
If I Were A Love Bug.
If I were a Love Bug
I’d spend my life looking for cuddle in the dark.
I’d watch the stars that shine up bright
And live my dreams in their light.
I’d crawl so close to you, but off your sight,
Would drink the smell of yours and fly…
You’d never see me and only feel the warmth in dark
And I’d be always there by your side
If I were a Love Bug.
IF I WERE
If I were beloved
by the very sands of time
If I were a goddess free
and all the world were mine
If I could love forever
and abundance were my dueIf I could offer just one heart
I’d offer it to you.
–Shayla kwiatkowski, 2013
Woo hoo! Congrats on the upcoming publication, Robert! Best of luck!
And here’s my response to the Wed prompt… a little late (appropriately).
If I Were a Clock
If
I were a clock
I’d run slow-
ly, often arriving
late to the party,
ticking off Time.
Forgetful,
I’d chime in-
termittently, miss-
ing some of those
quarters & halves.
At times, I’d
skip running
altogether &
it’s just possible
(perhaps even likely)
if I were a clock
I’d just
walk.
Haha. I like your last title suggestion: If I Were-Wolf. I just might steal that title and write to it.
CONGRATULATIONS on the book! How exciting.
If
If I were a medicine,
I would move like light to mend your wounds,
The ones that have made your muscles knot
And your forehead furrow.
Wounds of love and disillusionment,
Those fires half extinguished,
Calling on you to make up scenarios and lies.
If I could hold your head and hand
Without you knowing,
I would make all the pain and sorrow disappear,
Like the small child that gets a kiss and it is better
So simple and pleasurable -
With soft tears brushed away,
And a return to forgetfulness.
1/9/13
This is lovely especially “With soft tears brushed way, And a return to forgetfulness.”
If I Were to Forgive You
If I were to forgive you
would all the pain go away
or would it fester like a bed sore
itchy and red
infected
until it burst
oozing pus
stinking of death
If I were to forgive you
would you change
or would you still be
that same hurtful bitch
vindictive
cruel
unaccountable
for your own actions
If I were to forgive you
would I be able to move on
never to think of you again
live my life anew
and for once be happy
yes, I will choose wisely
and forgive you.
Whoa – very power-full poem – with a lovely twist as a finale
PART II – IF I WERE A DOOR –
Unhinged I’d be.
Off centre, off kilter, listing
a bit to the left, a bit screwy,
toppling forward,
swaying backward,
tippy on my nose, and then
slacky on my back.
I’d see dragons in clouds,
and galaxies in grass….And I’d
hear shipping news in bird chirps,
and grey static in your tears.
If I were a door,
I’d unquestionably be unhinged.
I like you unhinged
IF I WERE BOLD
Three words,
littler than small,
could express my full heart
and depress my ambivalence
thereof.
If I Were A Musical Note
I’d be trembling, soaring,
quivering pulses to savor
pleasing and alluring
hemidemisemiquaver
sometimes I’d be flat
sometimes I’d be sharp
sometimes I’d be quarter-toned
played on sacred harp
I might be triad, or could be dyad
perhaps now microtonal
maybe even wish I had
clef’d crown to look coronal
sometimes I’d be tied and slurred
continuous and unbroken
sometimes lurking ‘neath the lines
dawdling till I’m awoken
sometimes I’d be fine-tuned
a Bartók pizzicato
double-plus ambiguous
a bouncing bowed spiccato
sometimes I might transgress
some ornamental hiss
modify with finesse
dynamic emphasis
In the end I think you’ll find
we transcend our hidden flaws
after gathering in bars
take my breath in silent pause
© ~ Randy Bell ~ 2013
WOW! Encore – majestic little note! Terrific poem and a wonderful ending… “take my breath in silent pause” This is truly a wonderful poem
Thank You Pearl
If I were not waiting for construction to be done
If I were not waiting for construction to be done
Then I might not be writing aimless poems one
after another – to quiet uneasiness – just for fun
If I whirr
If I whirr
then I would
be lifting
on the rise
of perfumed
air
If I whirr
my velvet
wings would
spread and
graze your cheek
as you lied in
perfumed grass writing
poetry
there
Pearl, this is a fantastic, original take on the prompt, and a gorgeous little poem.
Thank you lovey
Wow…..De is right, this really is beautiful. Great use of imagery. Got my attention, Kudos!
If I were a slug
If I were a slug
on the warm concrete
I would move
in mindful concentration
slick with the luxury
of my unhurried way
If I were my own mother
I would live in silk
slim and sure
draped in confidence
on saloned settees
speaking with
rounded vowels
laughing with
head tossed
back and neck
long and unlined
eyes sparkling
in the give and
take of artist
types of all
sorts scattered
about as satin
pillows as sunslanted
light danced
through mullioned
windows
If I were a woman worth rubies
If I were a woman worth rubies
I would scrub the floors until
my knuckles bled and smile
If I were a woman worth rubies
I would listen to each syllable
with rapt attention never drifting
If I were a woman worth rubies
I would use each scintilla of
my intellect to further peace
and compassion and under-
standing among and between
all on this spinning cerulean
marble which we all share
If I were a woman worth rubies
I would scrub the floor of detritus
until all was smooth and
cool beneath my grounded
feet and my knuckled blood
fed the shimmer of rubies
floating in sunlight
If I were
Alone
If I were alone
I would laugh aloud
and fling my arms out
and dance down he hall.
If I were alone
I would sing silly songs
as loud as I wanted
and make up new lyrics
as I went.
If I were alone
I would run outside in my bare feet
and play in the grass
and make daisy chains with
the clover.
If I were alone
I would watch the sun cross
the blue sky, or watch
the clouds scamper by
or watch the moon rise.
But I’m not alone.
And if you see my eyes
twinkle
every now and then
maybe now you
know
why.
Diana Terrill Clark
Ah the joys of the free and solitary soul – so beautifully penned
If I Were You
I would wish
all your days be full
of minutes
sparkling bright
as those about you
find delight in you
Jane Penland Hoover
Poetic Asides: If I Were _______
January 10, 2013
A wonderful and kind wish – succinctly and sweetly penned
If I Were Inspired
the words would pour
like water onto the page
and no dam could contain
the flow of thoughts,
until the last syllable
had dripped into place,
marking the paper
as well used.
really life this – nothing containing thoughts today
ooh a wet page … terrific metaphor…
If i were alone
Would i hit my head against the wall
would i walk and stand tall
would i run and scream and hide
where would i go
Wishing those times we once had
were still here
wishing that you never crushed me
to the bone
once wishing those times away
Waking up to yet another day
waking up alone
where have those happy days gone
where have the memories slipped off to
where has the laughter disappeared off to
Once there was us
only me and you
now there is only a emptyness
a gap that can never be filled
knowing you can never return
A stairway
would bring me to you
as i would climb each step
happiness would fill me
the kind i once knew
So gather me up
hold me strong
teach me to understand
just where i belong
Hold me up
don’t tie me down
wishing you were here
knowing deep inside
your everywhere around
“A stairway would bring me to you” lovely line – very nice poem
Congrats Robert well done and best of luck
IF I WERE ANY MORE ME
Were I any more me,
Would that make me a we?
And if I were three
Would that make me a tri-
o and if I were ze-
ro I’d be absentee?
No I think I’m still me
To whatever degree.
And major congratulations again, Robert!!
Sweet – enjoyed your experimenting with form… “o” … and I think you’d still be you to whatever degree
So very happy for you, Robert!! Congratulations!
If I Were My Child
I would hold my own hand,
mosey along lily-pad pond, skip
a day or two of (pre)occupation
about being right, rock
the boat, dab at my own
fears, dabble in anything
that pushed me away, listen
for a dollar, then listen for nothing
more than warmth
of knowing love is the means,
but not guaranteed.
Oh, the layering of this love(ly) piece.
And (pre)occupation is brilliant.
This is a love-ly piece, on as Marie has pointed out many levels.. it is delightful to reach within and embrace the child that is ourself
…. The last 2 lines are a knock-out finale. 
I don’t know what is wring with my computer. I posted my poem on January 9, 2103 at 11:52 pm; not the date and time that came out under my poem. LaSteph
I don’t think there is anything wrong with your computer, “Step.” It’s probably a difference in time zone, or in how WD has their internal time set.
IF I WERE A SINGER
If I were a singer
I’d sing you a love song
Express my gratitude in such a
Melodious manner, raise my vocals
To become a beautiful symphony.
I’d offer my voice to you
With a message so true
With a song day and night
My voice crisp and light
Singing love to you.
If I were a singer
I’d connect each note fluidly
With love so pure you would see
It manifested deep within my soul
And shone mightier than any stone
Singing love to you.
LaSteph
Congrats to you, Robert on your success for your poetry manuscript.
*sigh*
Step – you could have a fan club beginning with such lyrical love
that was Steph – need to get that right especially if a fan club is beginning
Congrats on the book! I posted a rondel, but it didn’t go through. Thought I’d try to type a message here to see if it posts. I’m new to your blog, and look forward to reading your poetry.
Congratulations, Robert! Keep us up to date…
The better part of valor
If I were you, I’d turn around –
you’re crazy to ignore that sign
emblazoned with the bold outline
of a cow with horns. That faint sound
of pounding hoofs should not astound
you – but you better pay it mind,
you’re crazy to ignore that sign!
If I were you, I’d turn around
and run for home before you’re found
like a squirrel chased up a pine
tree, yelling for help! Please don’t whine,
this field could be a killing ground…
If I were you, I’d turn around.
Love the message, flow, and rhyme. Well done!
light and serious – a bit of humor for the day – along with attention calling – loved it
If I were you
I’d stick to sports
Football is too risky
Injury too sure
Baseball is safest
For an average person
How about that Nixon?
Running the country
Into the dirt
Look at his jowl vibrate
In tune to the television static
What is one to do?
And if you don’t make it
To the big leagues
Whatever you do
Don’t fall back on pool
Sign up for business school
That’s where the big money is
If I were you
A writer?
Are you insane?
The streets of New York
Are full of them
They wash dishes
And sweep floors
That’s all they can do
Nixon doesn’t care
About writers
That’s what I would do
If I were you
If I Were an Origami Artist
“You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.” ~Mark Twain
I make a fold or two, then bend
this square of paper at a crease.
This form of art is a release:
creating helps me comprehend
beginning, middle and the end,
a gentle way of finding peace.
This square of paper at a crease
I make a fold or two, then bend.
A simple act. It can transcend
bright colors, patterns. This small piece
of fiber is more than caprice…
a paper swan’s what I intend.
I make a fold or two, then bend.
###
RJ, this is excellent. You do form so very well.
This is lovely, RJ!
As origami this is lovely, crisp and so completely satisfying.
Congrats Robert! Very cool.
If I Were Retired From Being a Caregiver
I’d still care and I’d still give.
I’d still work hard and I’d still be so busy
I’d complain that I didn’t have enough
time to do whatever I’d wanted to do.
Like one of those little toys
with spinning wheels set on a flat surface,
off I go, no matter what direction.
Terrific image and a wonderful take on a serious issue of the responsibilities of the care-giver
Robert, I can well understand your pride and enthusiasm. Congratulations!
If I Were a Stone
One
Stone
Laid bard
To see stars
Lighting night’s sky dark,
With creation spread before me,
I could see home and
Know peace now
Before
Day
Comes.
Wonderful economy of words that really pack a celestial punch!
Congratulations on your new book, Robert!
If I Were an Eagle
If I were an eagle,
I’d angle my wings
and slowly circle
over the frozen lake,
watching for an unwary
rabbit venturing out
across an unmarked
patch of snow. I’d
pass the cottonwood
aerie where I was raised
with my brother
and not wonder where
he had gone. I’d own
the brittle blue winter
sky and a bare branch
with a hungry view.
If I were a woman…
…I know that I’d be
miserable, thin,
and perpetually hungry.
Were I a girl,
Then, every fourth week,
I’d murder a whore
and dump her in the creek.
Should I call myself “lady”,
I’d get a degree,
then earn minimum wage
as a secretary.
Hypothetically female,
I’d shop at the mall
from open to close, for–
WHOSE ASS IS THAT SMALL?
If fate gave me Xs,
I’d unwind at a bar,
while the guys insist that
I blow them in their car.
As a feminine specimen,
I’d wear a nice dress,
and get tons of free drinks.
…okay, that’s nice I guess.
Were I a missus,
I’d turn them away,
I’d be a hard bitch,
I’d care not what they say.
The fairest of sexes,
I’d see her walk in,
a gal with long red hair and
porcelain skin.
If I didn’t dangle,
I’d offer a stool,
I’d tell her she’s gorgeous
and try to act cool.
If I were a woman,
I’d kiss her and then,
I’d take her and–
Huh. I’m a lesbian.
HA! Creative as all get out.
Brad a wonderful poem revealing an absolute lover of and empathic soul mate to women.
Especially tickled me since my own father used to joke along much the same lines – that he was a closet lesbian, I have never heard any other man use this take on being a lover of women
You poemed this beautifully and gave me a good laugh along the way 
Congratulations, Robert! That is such spectacular news!
If I Were The Real Me
If I were the real me. . .
Would I see?
Would the path be clear?
Would the doubt disappear?
Would I still be here?
What would really change?
What would I regain?
Some days she’s here.
If only she would remain.
If I were in-love
Id deny every heart flutter
and hide every word stutter
Id tell my self it isnt so
But with every smile know it shows
Id feel the lightness in my heart and head
and the warmth in my cheecks as they grow red.
If i were in-love id…
I know I said so on Facebook already, but CONGRATULATIONS, Robert! So awesome!
.
If I Were Really Here
I would breathe this
fire and blame
the rain and
soak the sunrise
in by tiny sips,
cast a smile with
knowing lips and stand
in one place long
enough to listen.
If I were bound
by more than this
fragile bark
these broken limbs
some quiet
spark I would un
-sleep
and watch the sky
unfold.
And I would sell you
all these secrets,
half price,
one by tumbled one.
If I were really
whole.
.
I love your work. Every time – I love your work.
Lovely and lyrical
If
If I were twenty years younger
thinner
smarter
richer
single
childless
unencumbered
by the ties that bind me now
I might take different paths,
the road not taken,
backpack across Europe
study French, Italian
take a class on gourmet cooking
grow my hair out
learn to plan a fiddle
but despite the many times I’ve said,
If only I could go back,
knowing what I know now,
I’d choose this life. I’d choose your love.
Oh, Nancy. Amen, and amen. Beautiful.
And I add my amen.
Add me to the chorus of amens
If I Were Like Everyone Else
If I were like everyone else
you couldn’t tell us apart
you’d miss my sense of humor
my shy smile
If I were like everyone else
You wouldn’t know me
because I wouldn’t be unique
the man you fell in love with
If I were like everyone else
life would be boring
we wouldn’t get the same jokes
or the puns we toss at each other
If I were like everyone else
maybe I’d still be there
but I am my own person
And I cannot be who I am not.
Hear, hear! This should hang in every school building.
I second Marie Elena – Bravo!
If I Were A Door –
Unhinged I’d be. Every breeze
and leaf and stranger that wandered
by given free leave and entrance
to my rooms and halls. I’d invite
rainbows to enter through my bevelled
glass, to dance on walls and polished floors,
colours to marvel and adore. And I’d welcome
in sunlight, bright as a summer noon,
and stretch shadows long as mid-June days.
If I were a door, I’d surely be unhinged.
(c) 2013 ~ Misky
My favorite for this prompt so far. This is a wow, wow, wow.
As I commented to the second part – I do so like you unhinged Misky! Great poem/s
If I Were A Door –
Unhinged I’d be. Every breeze
and leaf and stranger that wandered
by given free leave and entrance
to my rooms and halls. I’d invite
rainbows to enter through my bevelled
glass, to dance on walls and polished floors,
colours to marvel and adore. And I’d welcome
in sunlight, bright as a summer noon,
and stretch shadows long as mid-June days.
If I were a door, I’d surely be unhinged.
(c) 2013 ~ Misky
… and I’ll say it again … My favorite for this prompt so far. This is a wow, wow, wow.
Thanks, Marie. I had problems posting (I thought!) but it posted twice. Grrrr.
If I were younger still
If I were younger still
I would not fear the
gray the silver in my
hair – the peaks of
delight and valleys
of despair
If I were younger still
I would not fear the
coming of the days when
I would no longer be here
or there
If I were younger still
I would savor each
nectared drop
not looking to the future
but soaking in the present
if I could – I would -
I will
For I am younger still
than I will be get to be
and vow to mindfully
enjoy all that is now
this younger than-ever
I will be again be
This youngest version
of this day’s me…
If I were RLB
If I were RLB
I would be on a rooftop
shouting lyrically
to the wind, the sea
and up to the stars above
that the poetry that has filled
me is now about to be shared
in a published book with all my love….
CONGRATULATIONS RLB
IF I WERE ME
If I were me,
I’d be happy in my station
this close to publication I could taste it,
I wouldn’t waste it… the opportunity that is!
Just the way it is…if I were me.
If I were me,
I’d be less afraid to sing my songs,
you could all hum along if you don’t know
the words. You know how it goes, you’ve heard
it before. We’d do an encore… if I were me.
If I were me,
I’d be the man Mom and Dad had hoped,
I would have coped better with illness and death,
I’d save my breath as far as some people were concerned.
And I’d have learned… if I were me.
If I were me,
my poems would be recited,
I’d still love unrequited and hide it well,
and I’d tell my daughters, they oughta be happy
and steer clear of crappy situations… If I were me,
I’d feel blessed by the friends I’ve made,
have a poet parade and invite the masses,
we’d hold classes on form and encouragement
and take nourishment from our collective muse,
That’s what I’d choose, if I were me!
Oh my. There is so much heart in your words … in each stanza … in each phrase …
oh yes to this in form and content – especially touched by “I’d save my breath…” great line and bigger thought.
Love the internal rhyme – and the wisdom from the living of life –
As i wrote elsewhere -Congratulations – sweet paver of “The Street” …. Soooo well deserved – enjoy every pulse of excitement -will think of ways to publicize! Back later to post
Congrats, Robert! What awesome news!
_________________________________
If I Were A Dude
If I were male, and not a girl,
let’s put it this way: I might ‘get’
a nickname or a sobriquet
like Killer, Butch or Duke of Earl.
Might be fun to give it a whirl…
…but as a guy, I’d suck, I bet.
Let’s put it this way: I might ‘get’,
(if I were male, and not a girl,)
the chance to burp and fart and hurl
and never ever get upset.
See, as a ‘Ms.’ I’m not there yet.
I think my brain would go a-dirl*
if I were male, and not a girl.
###
*Dirl means tremble or quiver. Sorry for goofiness, but the rhyme just started and I had to go with it.
HAHAHA! So cute, RJ! Be sure to check out Brad Bricktower’s poem today.
Oh this is “goofiness” of the divine RJ school. Wonderful!
IF I WERE ABLE…
(a shadorma)
…to take your
burdens upon me,
I’d do so.
If I were
able to free you from pain,
I would be happy.
<3
Robert, I’m happy for you and looking forward to solving a reading problem (winkwink).
If I Had a Dollar
For every time
You’ve looked
At me like that
Kind warm eyes
Knowing things
Laughing some
Loving anyway…
Well, who’s
Counting on
More wealth
Than that?
If I Were You
I’d lie to my face
say I loved me when
the time was right
and hope for more
than a kiss.
Way to go! No idea where you found the time to compile a book. Zounds, but you’re a busy fella!
If I were
good
would goodness be enough, or
would I wonder:
if I were
better?
Congratulations, Robert… I can tell you’re happy & rightfully so. I can’t wait for it to be released!
Congrats, Robert!
If I Were Granted Three Wishes
Could I wish for more wishes?
That would be my first question
If that wasn’t possible
then what’s the point?
Or would the first wish be
to have anything I want
anytime
anywhere
the ability to travel through time
as an observer
neither seen nor heard
or perhaps I could fly
but not so high
because I’m afraid of heights
okay how about this
I wish I wasn’t afraid of heights
that’s a good one
and yet just a tad selfish
so I wish for you
to be happy
for all of us
to live in peace
no more hate
no more hunger
no more senseless violence
I lost track
of how many wishes I’ve used
I hope I didn’t waste any
I wish I could count
Doh!
IF I were Stronger
If I were an artist, I would paint you a picture.
for you to understand
You were like lemon drops
you tasted so sweet. Yet, became so sour.
If I had tissue I would stuff it in the holes of my broken heart.
then I would tie shoe string around it.
and If that didn’t work I would use the duck tape around my mouth.
then I could speak. of it.
I could if I were stronger.
Also, congratulations.
Outstanding job, Billie!
This is my “wow” poem for the day …. it is simple and profound and lovely .. each image from lemon drops to tissues stuffed in the holes of a broken heart… just wonderful wonderful wonderful….:)
Wow. Congratulations, Robert!
Well done, Robert, on the publication of “Solving the World’s Problems”. Very exciting news!