Friendship Poems (1,087)

Looking through grains of sand
Everything is so clear
Like the color of your eyes
Gazing deeply into space
Reflections of our lives
Still as a mirrored pond
Bounces light from above
Soaking into our brain
These images we see
Through these portals
Winding paths of time
Travelling together
Becoming one

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Liquid green eyes know
Poetry In vision glows
Words come forth that shine

So varied are the hues of poetic pen,
With a multitude of exploding coloured ink,
In endless shades to choose from now, and then,
To set the writing mood, into which we sink.

Should I decide upon a nature write,
I must select just one of many greens,
To paint a woodland oil, in verse tonight,
Of lush green branches shading flowered scenes.

Humorous poems are best presented yellow,
The verses to be sunny, smiling bright,
This Irish poet not e'er a dour fellow,
To try extract a laugh from you, he might.

To pen dark verse, one must use darkest black,
Printed on a page of sombre grey,
The mood is set, no chance of stepping back,
The reader with sad tears, may have to pay.

Poems to my Love, are always delicate pink,
Verse from the heart, her eye to see words beat,
Fond lines penned madly now in perfumed ink,
Extracted from rose petals, for a treat.

Erotic verse scribed in pulsating red,
Throbbing, bulging blood to end in balm,
My pen grows hotter with every word that's said,
Eventually burns to flames within my palm.

Finally if you poets e'er grace my home,
Feel free to take a seat, and ease your pains,
Relax at my bureau and pen a poem,
For it's ink not blood that flows inside our veins !

Build a friend today
one that will never go away
one that will follow you happily if you just let in
don’t say no
don’t contradict the flow
i know it’s hard to do
but if you don’t
you’ll die and no one will know
So go
start building your friend today

Breaking free should be easy
for that is where I want
and where I need to be.
Sometimes, however, the pieces
cut like glass and I must wait
for the bleeding to pass.

Experimenting with altered states
with friends, I try my wings
knowing that they will love and
care for me ‘til the hour, late.
Mixed with Calexico’s chords,
Andrew Bird’s voice floats over
his violin strings straining tears.

These are the sounds I hear
as I close my eyes and
remember who I am
and how I got here
knowing at the end of the day
I will be going home.

Mike can paint visions
Weaving loves sweet poetry
Giving from his heart

One little
Two little
Three little maidens......
Four little
Five little
Six little maidens......
Seven little
Eight little
Nine little maidens
Ten little maiden girls......Jumping on Cafe's bed!!!

Jim coined a new term
Tasteful ecstasy you see
This should make you squirm

His cradle was hewn from English trees
And all his roughneck days made time for heir adoration.
His backyard was a playground f0r loud dreams
And remembrances.
Now well worn shoes track through fields, That lend their way to hills rooted in his soul.
Thoughts of when he wore a warrior's shield making
Battlefields proud, invade.
Remembered are secrets buried long ago with his armor\

sits easy at the hearth of the Warrior in his smile.
His strength is renewed when in the presences of the talking stones
That spoke of Wisdom before His first cry
Ipon a resting hill, lakes appear water, once red from
The screams of desired Freedom.
and Battle sowards dipped in hopful Baptism.
He sees now that battlefields have returned to the green of their youth,free now from planed chos,Today his battlefields made proud are growing seeds of life.
A nd now he no longer steps through slaughtered bone and flesh.












upon a hillside