Friend

Where did the full moon leave
its sack of flour tonight?    -- Pablo Neruda

Friend

Shh. we must speak in hushed tones.
Just act like tourists.  No,
no don't point.  Goodness and mercy
are following me all the days of my life.
Lay low or they will find us.
I have no one else to turn to.

 

O, how this life has become such a shiny penny.
Yes, yes, I know--weep for me not--
but blue skies keep smiling at me.
And hey, if tonight I become far too upbeat
to stomach, please, kill me.

     My whole world has drawn closer to
wonderful and it orbits with excessive joy. 
     It's sad that it must shoulder all gleefulness
alone, so damn all this cheer to hell.
     My world is the down-poured-on in a constant
flood of springtime and fireworks.

 

O, when will my lips abandon all their whistling?
When will my feet not ache from all their skipping?
Why must I turn these blissful cartwheels?
Why must I click these everlasting heels?

And, don't tell anyone I told you this:
I, now and then, cease from my Motown-ing it
around the house in order to glance out
a window where I watch and wait and wait.
I gaze toward heaven seeking out just one small
rain cloudy day with my name on it.
Why is it that I am still waiting?
I am waiting now.

 

And so friend, that's where you come in,
because I can tell by the look on your face
and the tapping of your foot
that you could in fact care less.
There, you see, you are already nurse
easing the pain of my happiness.

 

I feel so walled in by genuine love, compassion,
and charity all the time that I am all but coconuts.
So lately, I have been thinking of you and how
you have been the one friend I can always trust
to be false, plastic, and condescending--much thanks.
I look forward to the continued benefit of your curses.

 

I so need someone to 'sick it to me' if ever I am low.
I need someone to pull the chair beneath me
if ever I change a light bulb or the sky.

And unto you, dear friend, I give a pencil,
one that you can jab into my eye if ever I should see
too much gladness in a universe filled
with far too much magic, wonder, and inspiration.

Here are 3 reasons why you are the friend who brings me down:

1. You are the foot I trip over down life's staircases.
2. You are the knee I receive in life's woo-hoos.
3. You are the buckshot beneath life's wings.

 

You are my friend.

 

Hey, where are you going?

 

Hey!

Did I mention that you are my friend?

 

 

Reviews

[Adrian K. Smith]

Well, I needed a laugh - even a twisted laugh, after reading so much that is so much the same. Yes, it is sad to think there are people out there that are like that, but we all know them - those special friends that are always good for bringing you down. Though I should not laugh, though I should reflect on making sure that I am not that kind of friend, and though I should evaluate my friends to see if I have any like that; I cannot help finding myself with a small laugh, yes a twisted laugh - but a laugh all the same. Thank you for sharing this.

[Mark Pearce]

I like the numeration at the end. So...unpoetic, and therefore unexpected.

Such a rye twist for the topic.

What does your friend say about this?

[THE LOST ROSE]

Great Poem. Lyrical Love has forward this poem to a ton of people asking them to read this. I am glad she has included me on the list. What a treat tonight. This was great. I will check out some of your other material. Again, thanks.

[Emily B]

My great grandfather used to say that if you could count your friend on one hand you were indeed a lucky man . . . I wonder if one of those was this friend?