Showing posts with label poems about poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poems about poems. Show all posts

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Shoulda, Woulda, and Coulda


Shoulda, Woulda and Coulda*
Shoulda, Woulda and Coulda often complain
             while riding aboard the dinghy named "Fret"
Tangled in knotted refrain and regret
             avoiding the rip current of Change, the rudder is set
"Why not? What could go wrong? What is there to fear?"
             -are not the questions the three dared ask 
Then crewmates, Maybe and Might, forecast the outcome is unclear
             when bravely charting unknown water. And advised, ‘Leave doubt   
             in your wake when what you already knew the right way.’
As a Shoulda,
             Woulda
              or a Coulda, undoubtedly decided against, anyway.

Doubt and Worry pacing swab the deck,
              they claim its always slippery
Advising all to watch their step!
              This soggy pair prefers to predict catastrophes
Neither of these two will ever see past their four soggy feet
              To see some parts are already dry.
              "Not to fear, we've already been here! It's just like deja-vu!"
              "Pirates prosper by fear!"
But these words were gibberishly unclear and did not adhere
               to Shoulda
               Woulda
                and Coulda, trying to avoid their fretted fates.

Shipwrecked again off the Sea of Regret,
                moored in the ebb of murky vacillation
The lull of consistency, and eerie calm of sunset
                 foreseeable outcomes; one man's island destination
Lo’ on the horizon-a glimmer of light, a sparkling sight
                  a beacon, a bright idea, that maybe, might just be
                  up ahead, not so far, where the future is blinding bright,
                  past the buried benthic and what they Coulda not see, turbidity
                  and Shoulda done with what they Woulda had,  passed the possibility...

Shoulda and Woulda just missed a chance-
                  Coulda did nothing but complain
"What good is trying anyway-the path ahead is just happenstance"
                  So these three, bravery thieves, confidence takers,
                  deal breakers,
                  adventurous fakers,
                  remorse makers,
Coulda not comprehend, nor
Woulda they try to even extend
                   a helping hand to assist another
                   while occupied in their druthers,
and Shoulda patched the holes or learn how to swim.





*This poem was inspired by Eugene Field's poem "Wynken, Blynken and Nod". 
*Image of painting (oil) by Maxfield Parrish, 1902, "Wyken, Blynken and Nod"; [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.




Half-dozen Mud cakes

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