Ode to Ideas Not Written

Here's to the poem about baseball's first base,
itself a long metaphor about go-to friends.
There would have been a stanza dedicated
to only having to touch it to be safe,
and another about wanting to go home.

Here's to a discussion on my love of cooking:
maybe a bit or two about correctly cooking onions and pork,
but mostly about the love of simmering sauces and mixing flavors.
There is probably also an invitation to come eat my food,
and maybe a warning, too.

Here's to the cryptic message written to an unrequited love,
talking about shouts not heard (metaphorically),
pigeons and doves, cats and dogs,
being far away and close at heart,
and a blurb about boomerangs.

Here's to a philosophical discussion on the importance of reviews and public opinion of movies,
a statistical study of my opinions versus the critics',
where I declare myself the winner.
This one might one day be written.

Here's to a vague idea I had while driving home one day.
I got really excited while getting out of the car,
and forgot it while getting out my keys.
This actually happens every day.

Here's to yet another failed discussion on whether or not music is a stronger medium than prose,
written in iambic pentameter,
just to confuse the ones who look for irony.
Perhaps they'll come today and read this line.

Finally, here's to the empty "New Post" page that is opened and interrupted,
the thought failing to manifest itself from my mind to my keyboard,
and later the page is closed, leaving me with the sense of loss of a miscarriage.
Either that or I'm laughing at the funny picture you sent me.