Tag Archives: friendship

Williams Park

Thoughts on how friendships change with the passing seasons and years.

I.
I remember that summer as
both cold and hot we
waded through the ashes of
my mother dying strapped our
tears to leafy branches watched them
float down with the current defined
by movies watched from the bed
of a truck your head on mine we swam
as far away as Hope stuck together
like five petals on a summer rose Continue reading Williams Park

Just Friends

[Inspired by Disney’s Beauty and the Beast]

I watch you,
ten rows down at
two-and-a-half-feet a row
Space
enough for friendship

Courting indifference
– uncertainty, adventure,
due diligence, rebellion –
whatever sugar we’re coating it in
these days
I feel lost in a world where
blue and gold
turn grey

Just friends
until somebody takes a chance
like I did
bending to a plucked rose,
still yellow
but fraying red

Torn between
thoughts and feelings
– neither being rational –
but pretending, all the same
that the mess makes
some sort of
Sense

Senselessness,
as in, unfeeling
pricked by a thorn
outward perceptions and
melodramatic music, TV shows,
movies you care nothing for
and beauty found
in people
smaller than their
circumstances

I am smaller, too
than I ought to be
Uncertain
of that same space,
frozen, locked away

And all I want
is to turn the key
poised precariously
ashen lock – torn, yellow curtain
longing
for freedom

M.
Mar 18/17
Picture: mild steel hibiscus blossom

The Friend Spectrum

I only wrote a single poem this week – a poem about friendship. I was musing about what makes a friend, and how friendships come to be, and it just kind of morphed into my go-to format: a sonnet. Funny, really, because I had a conversation about friendship just the day after. How it’s so hard to tell when it starts, and how it’s so hard to know when friendship begins and when it ends.

Friend

What point decides that you become my friend?
I think about the spectrum, grey and long
where strangers overflow at one lone end
and good companions opposite belong
yet know not where the shift of int’rest lies
and whether time or distance or mere looks
contribute to the shift that always tries
to captivate more souls into shared nooks
It seems so artificial in a way
that I should know you and that you’d see me
For I judge easy, though my every day
is struggling just to let each person be
Yet if who you are stretches to this end
it seems that you somehow become my friend

M.
Oct 15/15

Bonds of Friendship

Dear readers:
I don’t know if you like the personal (and sometimes unintelligible nature) of some of my poetry, and so I beg forgiveness in a ‘sorry-not-sorry’-sort-of-way for posting one last (or rather, another) poem of a very specific, personal, experience-based flavour. This particular poem describes my “core-seven” friends in colours and impressions. I don’t know if it applies to you, but I suppose you can still learn things from this piece. Things like the fact that you don’t have go by the rules in poetry. At all. You can describe sounds in colours, people in words, nature in heartbeats. Or something like that.

Dear friends (who are hopefully also readers):
this poem is about and for you. If you think my descriptions awkward, then, well, deal with it. If you don’t, then hey, that’s cool. I’m sure you’ll know which one is meant for each of you when you see it, though I’ve given you a bit of help by providing your first name’s initial. In the case of overlapping initials, well, let’s just say it’s very obvious who’s who. And no, the order does not matter. It simply flows best this way.¬†Know that I’ll miss you guys a ton, at least whenever I’m not crazy busy with college. You’ll hear from me soon, though probably in less creative ways than posting on my blog….

“Lights”

[e]
You are a song of green
A whipping willow with
its branches of the clearest red
So dark it flows like molten lead
in complex shapes and crescent waves

[i]
You are a ripple of red
A shining ocean storm with
soft waves and tides in mixing hues
Of greens and yellows, reds and blues
that form inside your perfect mold

[m]
You are a pool of black
A liquid being with
the infinite space of possibility inside
The grey shades mixing with the white
into a steady, statued self

[h]
You are a sun of blue
A shining lantern with
a yellow light inside its folds
That keeps whatever hues it holds
inside a copper lamp with many hands

[a]
You are a rock of gold
A boundless bridge with
its windows weighed in tan and brown
And twigs with cherry-blossom frowns
that freeze before the spring

[m]
You are a drop of rose
A cherished moment with
its loud blue-laughter calling
To autumn petals gently falling
in the cold embrace of the wind

[c]
You are a fold of purple
A complex weave with
thoughts that go both there and back
Within confines that teals still lack
to brighter shades of lilac stones

M.
Aug. 6/15