Last Commented Friendship Poems (1,087)

Who is he
He has my couriousity
This man who writes beautiful poetry
He's new to me
Blinding me with poetry
Leaving me feeling like I'm on a slide
Not sure if I should run or hide
Just stay and enjoy the ride
Its given me a natural high
Could he be real
Or just another heel
Is it my heart he wants to steal
Is he looking for a free meal
I'm not even sure he's for real
I wonder what's his deal

He walks sure
He stands tall
Confidence oozing from every pore
His will once set is like a wall
This man is nobody's fool
Some might say arrogance
When observing his cool
But I say intelligence
Is sharpened and surpassed
Only by his experience.
He seeks for what must be
A woman, A mate, A lady
Come now ladies, don't be shy
This is a one of a kind guy.
To be with him you must be true
Loyal faithful
And know what to do
He must be able to depend upon you.
I dare not say his name
For fear on my head his wrath will reign
Step out of the shadows my friend
I know you won't lose your head.
Be more brave that's all I can say...
And you'll have your lady
One good day.

Fair-weather friend
foul-weather friend
forever faithful, feeling fine

‘Til temptation toppled
truth’s trajectory tumbled
toward tragic tangle

Downward, devoured distance
deliberate, decimated decline
destroying delicate duo

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

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!!!