The Poet’s Friend

Poetsfriend3

The Poet’s Friend

The old poet used to sit at this very table
Where my own pen and parchment now lay…
Muttering beneath his breath
Words… often indistinguishable from his snoring…
He told me stories of love
With the depth of mind
Of an ancient philosopher pondering life…
As if he himself had felt that very depth of love
Within his own heart and soul…
Most often he wrote while in his aloneness…
I being his only friend in these later years
Most of the others now writing rhymes
In other worlds…

Even on his best of days
You often found a tear
Lingering softly in the corner of his left eye…
While telling one who might notice…
Of his allergy to ink…
Some of his rhymes would go on and on
Page after page…
But when someone would speak
In derision of his words…
He would assure them,
That a story could not be told
With the simplicity of a single word…
Except…..
For death

—————————-

As I sit in the very chair
Where he wrote of his wanderings
His energy often surrounds me…
Weaving itself into that of my own…
I often catch a glimpse of him
Sitting here… in his aloneness…
Pondering life
And death…
A shot of whiskey within his reach…
Lingering in love and the beauty of the dawn
Often confusing one with the other
Yet…
Perhaps he was not the one confused…

Sometimes I can smell the aroma of the coffee
He so generously shared
Perked on an open fire just off the front porch
Where sparrows wings still sway the willows…
Having often fluttered their way
Into his rhymes…

—————————-

Now that I myself wear many lines of wisdom
Near my eyes…
I too have felt the depth of love
Of which he wrote
As I watch the veins in my hands
Pulse with his inspiration…
Sliding ever so gently
My words across the parchment…
He asked of me only yesterday…
Or perhaps I am mistaken…
For this parchment has turned brittle…
Edged in burnt umber
Resembling my own tattered soul…
“What is love,” he asked of me?
“Please tell me that I have known love
Before this body no longer binds my soul
To this earth…
What is love, my only friend?
Where is it found before one dies?

————————–

I had to search deep within myself
To ask again that very question…
What is love?
For love cannot be expressed in words…
It is the greatest of emotions
And cannot be defined in black and white…
My thoughts wandered aimlessly…
Searching…
Desperately seeking an answer
Impossible to find…

I told him I was without words…
Even the verse of my own poetry
Could not speak of love
In its esoteric existence…
My mind wandered within the darkness
Not knowing what to say to one
Asking of me…
His only friend…
His only hope of finding truth
In this very moment…
Before he wanders other worlds…

What is love?

—————————

I had no answer…
I sat next to his bed
My eyes filling with tears
For I could not give to this man…
My dearest friend
What he so desired
As his breath shallowed…

His eyes opened briefly…
His hand moved slowly
Wrinkled and callused
Veins exposing themselves so vividly…
The lines in his palms
Revealing his breath
Had not come easy in this lifetime…

He placed his hand on top of mine…
I felt his passion surging into
My own aging and wrinkled hand…
His soft voice speaking the words
That had forsaken me…
For in the softest of breath, he whispered…
“I have cherished you…….
My only friend”…

—————————

I smiled through my tears…
Knowing in my heart
That before his tender soul
Wandered in the light of other worlds…
We both had found the answer to his question…

What is love?

Michael33

If there is someone in your life who you call your friend
Who speaks only truths while in your presence
Who has always been honest in every word they have spoken with you
Who can keep your secrets locked tightly away for eternity
Whose hand always reaches out for you when you need them the most…
Don’t let another day pass…
Without sharing your deepest heartfelt emotions with them
And telling them that you have cherished them………

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30 thoughts on “The Poet’s Friend

      • Hello Michael, I hope you are having a good morning. I have been inspired by your writing too, it comes from a deep place and your note at the end was a good reminder of how we take people for granted which can happen so easily in a fickle world.I can tell that you look into souls:-) Take care of yours. Best. Chevvy

        Liked by 1 person

      • I am having a good morning, Chevvy, lingering in the comments of so many kind and caring readers. Of course you are correct in your ‘knowing’ that I look into souls. I look as deeply into them as I am allowed within my visions… as I sense that you too, enjoy that pleasure… My soul remains in constant protection by a beautiful white light that I aspire to shine upon as many others as will open their eyes to find… I believe that you and I both share that desire… Your light shines very brightly… I am honored… and I thank you deeply for shining it on me…
        Hope your day is filled with enlightenment…
        Michael

        Liked by 1 person

    • Good morning Maria… Thank you so very much for your kind words… I always have fun with my images to go along with the posts… I am so glad that you liked it. I might add that I have read all of poetry on your site and it is most beautiful and I thank you for sharing it with us… You photos are absolutely magnificent, but those words don’t really tell the whole story of their beauty…
      Have a magnificent day…
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

    • Good morning Laine Anne… You are always so kind to me with your comments, enlightening my world with your inspiring words. Yes… I would have to agree that ‘lately’ my writing is inhaling and exhaling with a more personal inspiration… Which can only mean that somewhere deep within my mind and emotions… there lingers a special inspiration…
      Thank you so very much for brightening my world even more…
      Hope your day is filled with inspiration…
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

    • Good morning Jacob… Yes… it means a great deal to the writer when one of his readers expresses such emotion. That kind of comment is what inspires us as writers… Speaking of inspiring… Your “Reticent Goodbyes” is still lingering in my heart. Most beautiful artistry… I am so thankful you shared it with us…
      Have a wonderfully heart warming day, Jacob and thank you…
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

    • Good morning Micki… I see by your comment time that you were once again wandering in the late night hours… I hope you were dancing with the breeze… I’m so glad you dropped by to visit a while… It is always my pleasure. Yes I love those lingering times and look forward to many more of them… Those times are what inspires me so… Thank you for the warm hugs and please allow me to return them to you as well…
      Have a wonderful Monday…
      Michael

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    • Good morning my dearest Tia…

      You leave me lingering in your question

      May I?

      I have bathed my mind in your ‘Saudade’
      Yet I drift within my wonderment
      Of what my answer to your
      Most provocative question might inspire…

      May I?

      As I wander through my thoughts
      Of all that I know of you…
      My mind finds an intoxication
      Of spirited wit
      Leaving me still to wonder
      Of your alluring question…

      May I?

      It is often difficult for a simple mind
      Such as my own… to distinguish
      Between what is right and what is wrong
      And offer to you the most obvious of answers
      Yet… My face still lingers in the shadows…
      Seeking not light… but enlightenment itself
      To fall upon my shy blue eyes…
      To provide the answer that must be given to you
      Of the simplest of questions…

      May I?

      So… I bow my humble head…
      And speak to you with the only response
      That seems of any reasonable character…
      By asking you to ‘unbolt’ your silence
      And allow me but one simple question of my own….

      Will you?

      Have a most beautiful day Tia…
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

      • Good afternoon, my enigmatic Michael ❤
        Now you left me literally speechless. May I? May I invite you to be my guest author? Will you? Will you let me share your brilliant poems on my blog?

        Have a most poetic day, Michael…
        Your (still numb) Tia.

        Saudade (by Ramon Cambeiro-Castro & Tetiana Aleksina)

        She always sits alone at the corner table
        And smokes cheap cigarettes with a yellow label
        She clicks idly on an email attachment
        That tells a short story of a sexual harassment
        The stale smoke lingers with a sense of unease
        The same sense she’s got of her venereal disease

        She’s the last vestal of this perverted Parthenon
        She scrolls her friend list… the damned deceitful pantheon
        Each face hides a secret of a sordid infection
        The virus that’s inside her is the germ of affection
        The memories all linger but her future self fades
        She never even loved him, now she’s probably got AIDS

        She’s just a Petri dish with a collection of human filth
        Her verminous spongy womb is like the land is in good tilth
        She’s riddled with the maladies that murder and smother
        Her only hope was that the viruses would kill one another
        But the one thing they left out from her medical flow chart
        Was the worst disease of all, how he was breaking her heart

        A screensaver fades… a carefree laughing girl at a tender age…
        She stubs out a cigarette and goes slowly to the tiny stage
        Each face in the crowd tells a story of shame
        Where once they burned her records now they’re singing her name
        Her introduction music starts to vibrate the stylus
        And with their love in her heart, she’ll beat this sex virus

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    • Hi Iris… So glad you dropped by. Thank you so very much for your kind words. I’m sure that you know the feeling one receives when someone tells them that what they wrote had warmed their heart. That’s exactly why we write. That’s what provides us with inspiration. That’s what, in turn, warms our own hearts and I thank you…
      Hope your evening is most beautiful
      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Michael, I have a lump within my throat, and a tear in a corner too.. well if truth be told it rolled down my cheek and I had to wipe my glasses before seeing the typing on your comment section..

    Such beautifully penned words, the imagery here within my vision of your wonderfully weaved tale reminds me of my Father, not a man who put pen to paper, but one who would love to weave a tale or two, And have the odd nip of whiskey.. 🙂

    In Love and Gratitude.. Sue

    Like

    • Oh, Sue… Your comment has touched my heart deeper than any I have ever received and I am so very humbled by your words… Many tales have been woven ever so beautifully, along with an odd nip of whiskey… I would love to sit upon the front porch, in the evening breeze…. listening to one of wisdom tell his tales… and of course… enjoying an odd nip.

      My intentions were as always most of honor
      Not to cause a tear within your eye
      Yet words that you let linger in my vision
      Have kept my aging blues from staying dry

      I am honored to have stood within reflections
      Of memories so cherished from your heart
      While those who walk on dreams of intuitions
      Are ones who are the greatest works of art

      Thank you Sue… I will cherish your words.

      My love and gratitude to you also…

      Michael

      Liked by 1 person

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