Posts Tagged ‘ Friends ’

Weathering Stormy Friends – Poem

Fair weather friends pop up, pop down, pop away again,
Taking what they want, leaching a soul away
Giving nothing in return, but a constant knowledge.
There is no falsehood. There is no pretence.

Tornado friends whirl in, swirl out and whirl in again,
Tossing up the fragile ecosystem, destruction left in its wake
Caring nothing for the path it takes, what it leaves.
There is no malice. There is no forethought.
Tornado friends simply breeze in unaware of their strength.

Every weather friends could be here three-six-five, or just now and then,
Acting simply as nature intended – a ray of sun in December
A drop of rain in August. There’s no matter.
It’s life. It’s unpredictable. But there is no leaching,
It’s a normal, day to day being, but there is no destruction.

© 6th November 2014

Amputating the Old – Poem

One day, it was so very simple,
A little nick was all it was,
It barely touched the surface,
A fleeting glance.
There was no blood drawn.
Over time, its roots grew deeper,
Scabbing and crusting over and over,
Becoming engrained and permanent,
A familiar scar.
It was built now to last.
Only rarely can it happen,
Such an accidental contact,
Has such an impact on your health,
A friend’s smile.
What was it like before the mark?
Once in a million, is healing,
All it takes is one little bug,
To gnaw and attack, wear it all away,
A fiendish turn.
Now the wound’s open once more.
Opening wide, the bacteria reproduce,
Serving themselves and eating their surroundings,
And the smell is pungent,
A festering time.
It’s all turned sour. There’s one path ahead.
Owing nothing to modern man,
Medicines and salves are no cure,
There’s only one solution, away from all this pain,
A fiery pain.
The festering, rotting, once-loved scar,
Needs amputating before it spreads.

© 29th December 2011

The Perfect Storm – Poem

You, you are my storm
My sudden downpour
My flash of blinding light.
You are my constant upheaval
My constant source of confusion
My disorientating blind panic.
The thunder deafens
The rain water drowns
The spray blinds and the wind chills.

You, you can storm at anytime
My Spring day suddenly showered
My Summer day suddenly darkened.
You always flash in the blue
My Autumnal day now slippy
My Winter day now slushy.
And you pass on to fresh ground,
Unknowing and unwavering
As you leave behind destruction.

You, you are my constant
Your inflicting pain will return
Your contradictions always resume.

© 6th November 2014

how? – Poem

How do you tell someone something they don’t want to hear?
Something they will hate you for but that they should fear?
Is it unsolicited advice? Sticking your rear end in?
Is it helping them in their time of need? Offering invaluable advice?
How do you calm someone’s anger by agreeing with their enemy?

How do you tell someone that they are in the wrong?
That no matter how much they think they’re perfect, they need to change?
Could it be a suggestion? To do more, alter their lives.
Could it be a hint? At others you’ve seen and the pain.
How do you try and be a friend when you can’t be honest?

How do you tell someone that it’s not just them suffering?
That their actions affect others and are bringing society down?
Should you lie to them? Tell them they’re perfect and it’s unfair?
Should you do the hard thing? And risk losing your friend?
How do you break someone’s heart without ever owning it?

How do you tell someone that the words are true?
Words that sting and say you’re a failure, but true to the core.
Would you verbally slap them? Or comfort them?
Would you shush and soothe them? Or dig the knife in further?
How do you say the words without blood splattering everywhere?

How do you tell someone that you agree wholeheartedly and are glad?
Glad that society has seen and can rescue them all.
Can society solve it alone? Without a whisper from your lips?
Can you escape with your friendship? And them all with respect?
How do you decide whether their lives are worth more than your friend?

How do you tell someone that you’d do things differently?
That you would pass their tests, ensuring society’s future.
Why can’t you tell her? Is it selfish? Self-righteousness?
Why should you speak up? Them. Simply them.
How do you put your trust in a system five years too late?

How do you tell someone the words which would destroy them?
The pain would never heal and they would be lost to you.
Who is more important? Them, you or both?
Whose heart would be lighter by sharing your burdens?
How do you crush them in agreement with a faceless desk?

How do you tell someone that you can make their worst fears reality?
That their imagination is nothing compared to reality?
Watching as their dreams deteriorate into waking nightmares,
As your sleep becomes peaceful now your heart is lighter.
How do you decide what is best for them when you only dream?

How do you tell someone that they don’t deserve to be a forest?
When you suffer in a dry, barren desert as they bask in life?
Is that the whole truth? Or do you want to help?
Is their suffering your salvation? Is it your retribution?
How do you explain that they’re ruining everything you crave?

How do you tell someone they’re selfish and self-obsessed?
How do you decide if you mean them or yourself?
How can you live with yourself telling her your truth?
How can you cope not sharing your truth with her?
How do you find the thin line on which a friend stands?

Author’s/Poet’s note: This is the rough draft, by that, I mean that it has not been subjected to line counting and other things I would do to a poem. It may be at some point. It may not be. I kind of like the roughness of it. It fits the topic as does the repetitiveness and sheer amount of questions! Also, the title is in lower case for a reason and is not a grammatical or spelling error by myself 🙂 And for anyone interested, I still haven’t decided what to say to my friend! Leaning towards saying nothing and just listening to her.

(c) February 1st 2011

 

Hail Dorothy! – Poem

Is the reason why your knowledge is very high,
Because it’s the only thing up there with your wings?
Common sense is lacking,
Sincerity slacking,
And sympathy is outta here.
Or does the rest suffer for your retention of facts?
Or do you relish your biased way of mind?

Your judgement is next in priority,
Can you ever walk in somebody else’s shoes,
Or are Dorothy’s glued?
Your night tinted glasses,
Blinker you to the real world,
Not CGI nor RPG.
Can you even remember your own given name?
Your memory shocks until it’s time for your train!

You abandon and run with such glee on your face,
Not one other person does the same in your place.
Your pigtails are for kids,
Your vest belongs underneath,
For all that brain power,
You’re highly small minded.
You never alter from your misconceived notions,
One day you will fall from your pedestal.
But what would I know,
When you’re always right?

© 2008/9.

Publicise – Poem

Private moments and all internal gore,
Unveiled for all to smell and sea,
Bleeding barriers broken beyond belief,
Lives and hearts opened in the palm,
In the delicate digits,
Controlled conception is distorted now,
Is this now the norm?
Socially acceptable to open your mind?
Even to those squeamish?

© 23rd September 2011

 

Without/My Day – Poem

A dozen roses are nothing without one,
A vase is only fulfilled with a whole bunch in,
A bottle of wine is wrong with a glass gone,
A box of chocs half-eaten – a disaster!
A day without you, heart-breaking!

A beach trip under a blue sky with one cloud,
A night swimming event with the tide flowing out,
A chock-a-block train with one seat at the back,
The tube doors closing just as you arrive!
A day in a crowd, disaster!

A cookie jar should always be full of them,
A shoe should always have a pair and a dress too,
A necklace requires its matching ear-ring,
A bra must match its pants and her clothes!
You’re not in my crowd, how unfair!

I can see it in my eye – the fairy-tale line,
I can see in my mind who should share my dream,
Too many absent, is there any point?
I invited you there, now nothing feels right.
Is it me that’s unwanted, unloved and ignored?

Or just simple fate that keeps my blood clear?

© April 2008.