To a friend

A piece written for a friend that passed. Intended to be spoken as a number of lines run over to keep a sense of free metre.

It’s Tuesday afternoon, you had a sense of knowing in your eyes

Omniscient to my approach, you’d pass the time chasing flies

Hear the car turn the corner, kicking gravel silhouettes

You’d catch the smile in my eyes, and reply with a pirouette

Crash into my arms, my gracious little fool

We’d remember all the times on that second spool

Unabated by my absence, the reprisal long gone

From your eyes and always from my song

I’d always contemplate the rhyme scheme for your jaunty step

I’d refine it to an art-form, it would vanish as we met

I know there is no name for those couplets three

But I’d call it happiness, I’d call it climbing trees

Out in a field where we would watch the day depart

Your head on my lap and my fingers on your heart

The wind would ruffle through a silver speckled home for me

I’d call it comfort, I’d call it tranquillity

And your eyes showed signs of always waiting

And your eyes showed signs that you were always a friend

And your eyes showed signs of the life that you made for me

And your eyes showed signs that there was never an end

I have lived inside concrete air that was never a home

But it was the same to me, as I was never alone

I would just have to think of you falling on your feet

As you let out a wail and then you’d crawl on my seat

‘I want all three’ you’d say with a pixie grin

But you couldn’t handle that, and you know what I meant

Other days you would cry for a sense of peace

Only I could calm your nerves, and watch you drift to sleep

 

Out on the carpet while the world turned around our point

One hand across your breast, the other counting coins

For the man across the water planning your matinee

He called it a fair price, he called it revelry

I held a compass to my chest, prayed the sun would always last

In a suspended embrace with the future and the past

I’d look for daisies and you would hunt for sticks

You’d drag me a prize that was always too big

Yet you would carry it with pride, with a sparkle in your eyes

Because you knew you made me laugh through the cracks in my smile

I could always count on you, my friend, a statue on the porch

You were the lighthouse and the music, the echo of the torch

That I’d leave at the end of our bed on those stormy nights

I’d call it a point of reference, I’d call it compromise

A woman painting and her sister dreaming up the scene

Every day they’d fill the palette and every day they’d wipe it clean

I flipped through books and learn all that I’d need

You would never understand but you would smile with glee

At the thought of my intentions to the crowded room

Of beggars, thieves and lovers, a soliloquy in tune

With your rhythm repeated under the click of my heels

I made it out of memory, it may as well have been real

And I can’t help think of the smile you left for me

And I can’t help think that you were always there

And I can’t help think of your feathered melody

And I can’t help think that you were always there

Your eyes showed signs of always waiting

And your eyes showed signs that you were always a friend

Reviews

[LastMonth]

There is quite a great deal of affection here. One could almost say that it is a blinding amount. I see here only the good. None of the bad.

Not to say that this is a bad thing. This poem is meant to glorify this friend. To show what she meant to you. Or to the character, for that matter. The writing is splendid. The way you couple words together left me hanging, waiting for the ryhme. It was definetly a good read.

The ending is somewhat unclear. At times I found myself straying from one meaning to another, is this a lover, a friend..? At some odd point in my reading I even considered that this was not a human but a pet of a sort. A cat or something of that kind.

But I suppose that you left these details in the air on purpose. Or perhaps I need to read it again. The more gleeful and appreciative the view of this friend becomes, the more unfortunate and gaping the hole she left appears to be.

Thank you for the read.

[Willis Walker]

Thank you very much for your review! It's very interesting that you mentioned a pet. I was purposefully ambiguous about the context as I wanted to see if people made any kind of connection.

The piece was actually about a dog, a past lovers dog to be precise. I constructed this piece to be from her point and view, and used various stories and idiosyncrasies as points of reference.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read my piece. :)

-Willis

[LastMonth]

Ooooh. This is so much better. I am glad I managed to pick up on the Pet-ish vibes in this. Keep up the good work, I'd love to read more of your work.

[Bear]

A nice whimsical feel of hope and youthful insight, of lasting friendship and determination to never let it go. It is like a Warhol painting full of hidden madness in the tranquilly of word's, if you have not listened to this on your text to speech program yet you should ( I would suggest you add commas to the end of each line before you listen to it just to define one sentence from another for the program) Standing Ovation! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!

[Willis Walker]

Thank you for your advice, constructive advice like that is very much appreciated. Punctuation is always something I experiment with (I usually omit it from my more disjointed pieces) but I your point is very valid, and I will have to get back around to this one and revise the punctuation

At the moment I am just posting a few pieces a night from the various pieces I have written over the past few months, and so there is a lot of experimenting with style, metre and form. I am looking forward to using the using the tools you provided when I go about creating some new pieces.

-Willis

[Bear]

I really like this one and I only added the commas after I cut and pasted your poem into my text to speech program. The commas at the end of each sentence was she the reader didn't read it as one lone sentence, I would not add them to your poem and as you mentioned that this was to be spoken I wanted you to hear it spoken as it would be read. It is a very impressive work of literature :~)