Best Freindship Poems
Tribute To A Tributer
I Am Anaya likes good food and fine rhyme
Dining with Poetry Soup all the time
She posts tributes so terse
but they could be verse
With a love of poetry so true and sublime
Hey there friend,
yes you....don't be staring like you haven't got a clue
when you were down you stuck to me like glue
now that your on the rise you gave me a shocking surprise
i didn't want see it but i had to open my eyes
to the way you treat me and all your bare faced lies
we've being through it all and sometime won nothing at all
i didn't see this coming ignoring me most of all
it isn't a crime nor is it a sin,fix your face i hate that grin
this isn't a cry nor is it a plead but i had valued our friendship
it didn't came with ease but for some reason its leaving with the breeze
you had called me your "brother" and some time "a friend like no other"
now you don't even call i guess you can't even bother
stay on your high horse i only hope you enjoy the view
because as much as you can't see me i can see you
and the cloud that you're sitting on is the same you will fall from
and you will be back here down to ground one
the world is round keep behaving like a clown
those peer's you have now won't always be around
i was there from the start when even the food we ate was running short
i have been there no matter what weather have start
we said we were friends and friends to the end
ohhhhhhhhhh now i see......
this is the end
Form:
Roger’s waist was the linchpin
when we launched “The Rose”
off Garrison’s Cove on Bailey Island.
He let out the rope around his belt
as she slid off the trailer
at high tide. We weren’t young back
then, but barely young enough
to pull it off. I was from a river-boating
family back in Pittsburgh where
some folks cleated shell boats to docks,
and drank on them all summer. Not that we
were soberists here later in Maine,
No—there’s still case of Grey Goose in my
garage for Roger, which is an old-testament joke
about what God thinks about our plans.
Stephanie painted wine glasses on Roger’s 70th
and a broken stem among them will become an
offering to Poseidon on the rocks this fall
when we break them, and next summer’s
miracle of sea glass washed up in oath
and mystery in the natural orders of myth.
Cook’s Lobster House is also on Bailey
down Garrison’s Cove Road
and the launch ramp there looping
around the bend reminds me
me of fulcrums, linchpins
and hinges-- how they all love
a good turn, rope-let launches
and unraveling yarns, midnight clinkers.
We should all plan to croak from
the moment of birth, but we don’t--
the former having been so traumatic
that we can’t remember it.
The boats find a way of slipping in.
Burning Bridges from Kelly’s Heroes sung by the Mike Curb Singers
Friends all tried to warn me
But I held my head up high
All the time they warned me
But I only passed them by
They all tried to tell me
But I guess I didn't care
I turned my back and
Left them standing there
All the burning bridges that have fallen after me
All the lonely feelings and the burning memories
Everyone I left behind each time I closed the door
Burning bridges lost forevermore
Joey tried to help me find a job
A while ago
When I finally got it I didn't want to go
The party Mary gave for me
When I just walked away
Now there's nothing left for me to say
All the burning bridges that have fallen after me
All the lonely feelings and the burning memories
Everyone I left behind each time I closed the door
Burning bridges lost forevermore
Years have passed and I keep thinking
What a fool I've been
I look back into the past and
Think of way back then
I know that I lost everything I thought I that could win
I guess I should have listened to my friends
All the burning bridges that have fallen after me
All the lonely feelings and the burning memories
Everyone I left behind each time I closed the door
Burning bridges lost forevermore
Burning bridges lost forevermore
No Turning Back
In another world, another time
we would still be friends.
In this world, in this time
we have burned our bridges.
There is no going back.
We have nothing to share.
Our ties are cut.
Let’s move on.
No remorse, no second
thoughts.
We were close, but
no more.
The world has changed
and so have we.
Our paths can’t
cross again.
It is time we both admitted
our burned bridges are
lost forever more.
Her daughter loved visiting the older couple who lived next door
but after the lady’s husband died the daughter said, “I don’t want to visit her anymore.”
“She’s so sad every time I see her…and she still talks to her husband too.
It makes me a little uncomfortable…I don’t know what to do.”
Her mom said, “I understand your feelings but surely you have to see
now that her husband is gone…how lonely she must be.”
“But what can I do to help her?” she asked…”She’s acting awful strange.
It’s not the same when I visit now…everything has changed.”
Her mom looked into her eyes then patter her on her head.
“I think the best thing you can do…is just be her friend.” she said.
“Let her be sad, let her cry, let her be somber. let her be grim…
Remember she lost someone she loved…and she wasn’t done loving him.”
“I imagine right now she needs a friend…who quietly by her side will stay
and listen…just listen…until her sorrow fades away.”
And so the daughter followed her mom’s suggestion…
and though she’s not sure exactly when
slowly she noticed her friend began to smile again.
She began talking about other things…found other reasons to be glad…
until the day thoughts of her husband…no longer made her sad.
And the daughter learned a valuable lesson…
about how one doesn’t always have to intercede….
sometimes just knowing a friend is near
is all a person needs.