Friendship Dramatic Monologue Poems | Examples
These Friendship Dramatic Monologue poems are examples of Dramatic Monologue poems about Friendship. These are the best examples of Dramatic Monologue Friendship poems written by international poets.
One day, a star said to the crescent in the sky,
"How do the people of our homeland admire you so beautifully?"
The crescent replied, "I have learned the ways of love and union,
But you are distant from it, suffering in foreign lands."
The star said, "I am also not happy with this homeland,
They see me as just a light of a distant future."
The crescent replied, "These people are intoxicated with love without equal,
But you do not share in their joys and happiness."
The star said, "I am lost in the imagination of my own time,
I have seen once, the flowers stained with blood."
.
az
'round the guardz
mine
cheated
circling their spy
unto her side
i whispered
"i love you"
she pulled the mic
close
she whispered
"oh so cliche"
hern pretty winked
and continued
"hey edvard
i love you too"
To My First Dog
Long asleep in your unknown grave,
My companion, loyal and beloved
Throughout my youth’s growing years,
You cannot know nor now see
How you do still bring tears to me
With memories haunting
Of the ways our friendship yet remains.
Asleep so still…
With fury has over a half-century passed
Since daddy took me to choose you
From a wriggling, yipping litter of
Nine-week-old, black and tan, mutt pups
On a straw-strewn wooden platform set
Against a pet store’s window…All of you
Squirming and…begging
For a child about age nine — like me —
To come pointing, excitedly…begging,
“That one!”
As our black eyes met
— yours directly melting into mine —
Glinting great hopes…
(Remember? )
Now even there ~
In heaven’s waiting while dreaming,
In your halcyon grave’s space ,
You cannot know nor wonder
How love survives still
Holding onto smiles past the tears that grief brings
For a long and deep heart’s treasuring.
E————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 11/1-3/2023
Thanks be to God———
there was never any need
to sway from the bunkers
that evening the way the tall
pines swayed mastering
my innermost self to a tiny
craft beneath the woods
as night shattered the small
lantern resistance followed
far beyond what I needed
at the time of the entrance
gathering I remember being
consoled smitten from the bottom
of the calvary where haste had
bothered to intrude I catered
to your manhood even though
it had withered long before
the boots had entered I didn't
dare blink mine eyes wide shut
my ruby red lips trembled I
licked them in a brief attempt
to moisten them preventing
a cracked chafing effect biting
my bottom one merely drawing
blood tasting the rawness of fear
the red coats were leaving now
standing before me was her
in all her beauty in all her glory
America embracing my tiny form
How can we teach history?
Without bringing hate into the story.
How can we teach history?
And not bring thirst for revenge to the story.
How can we teach history?
And keep them and us out of the story.
How can we teach history?
And forget about who is to blame in the story.
How can we teach history?
Without making now worse.
How can we teach history?
And keep fairness in the story.
How can we teach history?
And make it a hopeful story.
How can we teach history?
And bring balance to the story.
With the right teachers we can?
The ones who put the right questions to their students.
The ones who highlight sacrifices made,
The ones who highlight the importance of forgiveness,
The ones who highlight the bonds of friendship in times of strife.
The ones who highlight the times war was avoided and how.
The ones who highlight the meaning of atonement.
Forgotten
Wordless woes
Silenced a voice
You no longer hear
Forgotten
You thrive
Old school survive
Grit and grind
Your 9 to 5 bind
Emotionally alive
You thrive
Silence
Muse on mute
My daily commute
To forgotten lines
And yesterday's rhymes
In silence
Why?
What was my crime?
What stole your time?
What was more sublime
Than my invisible ink
Did you stop to think
Promises are meant to prevail
Over pain
Forgotten I remain...
So... utterly... forgotten
Sad news about Winged Warrior
I just received word from the family of John Torchia, better known as Winged Warrior here on the soup, has passed away at the age of 61. He was fighting cancer and no one knew about it except for his family, and me. My last communication with John was about two months ago, he wanted to work on a Christian song together but he wasn't feeling well. He wanted me to let everyone on Poetry Soup know that he apologizes for not posting recently and not commenting as he normally does. I know he was beloved here for his deeply spiritual poetry, and his remarkable vocabulary, he truly loved writing and we all no doubt will miss him very much. I suspected something was wrong lately as he never responded to my phone messages or emails, it is with a heavy heart that I bear this sad news. RIP my friend....
John Derek Hamilton
11/ 9/2020
If you can't,
Or are not prepared to carry your own weight,
Then you had better have understanding friends.
Without being able to carry your own weight,
And not having understanding friends,
Then Houston you have a problem,
And you need to own it,
Rather quickly.
I have never yet met anybody,
Who at some stage in their life,
Has not had to pick themself up off the floor,
Or had to crawl out of the gutter.
I cannot claim to be an exception,
Although I can only claim a half truth about the gutter,
But I have made up for that by picking myself off the floor,
More times than I care to remember.
It has helped having friends and family who have,
Not been in a rush to carry my weight for me,
Opting for a supporting role instead,
A fair measure of the quality of their friendship,
Don't you think?
The pure beauty amid attraction
no holding back it gives, it gives
a place where thoughts breathe
and strength and true poetry lives
It's not pretty nor perfection
word upon word, letting of soul
forgiveness, angst and freedom
allowing moments, feeling whole
there's happiness and sunshine
a night of fantasy or two
but mainly it's moving forward
closing shut a heavy door
heartbeats wrapped up in a blanket
slowing down one second at a time
giving life to more than perspective
a freeing of the troubled mind
I strip, you watch
you bleed, I cry
no expectations needed
just another day inside
1 2
1 2
Let us talk of each other.
Why should we wear this mask?
Let us be confidential.
Who knows, we might become friends.
"You come too late” - He would answer-
I am a dead man now.
I have neither eyes nor ears, but
I can hear the others talking and laughing,
and you come quite close.
I am mostly a cold, unkindly sort of man
and people seem far away from me
for no actor can come upon the stage with a worse grace.
I have been a buffoon very fond of jokes:
- a singular being -.
This as if there were a circle around me,
which kept everyone out, but you.
This moment is the reward of my life.
Anyway you had better be anywhere but here.
Kind of a dream of musing.
It is the one fear I have never experienced,
And I would not wish it on anybody,
As once embraced,
There is no escape,
With harm to others and ultimate self-destruction,
Always the end result.
This fear grows stronger every day,
It feeds off any negative thoughts,
And seeks out any feelings of guilt,
To grow even stronger.
To fear being Human,
Must bring to those infected unimaginable pain,
With no kind wishes in sight.
How can we lesson its impact,
When lines between what is real and what is not,
Are constantly getting blurred,
And only our bad deeds being carried on the news.
Maybe, just maybe the Power of words like,
Hope, Love, community, friendship will get us past the fear,
But for that we need poetry,
And lots of it,
So, get busy and don't be shy,
The sky is the limit,
Once your hidden talent is let loose on the world.
Vast darkness, hoping for a light to frighten the creatures in it. Hoping for a new sense of purpose, hoping that in a new light people will see it as a beauty and not a frightening aspect of the world. Light will bring in opportunities for things in the darkness so they can grow. A tree could grow in the darkness, or the flowers will bloom and bring a smile to peoples faces. The darkness can only hope that light will one day come and bring down the veil between the darkness and the world, if only for a split second. The darkness can only hope that it will grow once it finds its light and shed its unwantedness.
A blinding light, hoping for a darkness. A darkness that will allow people to look at the light and not shy away from its blinding rays. The light hoping for some closure, hoping to not be avoided and to be able to be recognized for its beauty and not the pain that it can bring if not properly witnessed. Hoping the darkness could co-exist with the light and be marveled at together. Light without darkness can be blinding and darkness without light can be consuming.
Some unknown pleasure you are.
Undescribable personality you sue.
Sweet lies in your smile.
Heal is in arms,
Eternity is our bond.
Endeavor the flaws together, let's be friends ever.
Live with me like a shining stars with little wars.
All I want to say is you are that special stranger.
How did I get
to be this old?
By listening mostly!
A skill and an art
That sets one apart
Just listening...mostly
It demands ears op’ed wide
And opinions kept inside
Not speaking...Just listening mostly
Letting another have the stage
To vent joy or release rage
This is friendship...listening mostly
One can speak volumes by not saying a word
Silence is meaningful when nothing is heard
Understanding is listening...mostly
A nod...A simple touch...A knowing
wink can say so much
Needy souls need listening to`
...mostly…`
The beings we are, conjured as such, from the dust of stars, live in a mystery of the mind. Forgetting who we are, we call out orders, like a sea captain, staring into the future, with far away eyes. The crew and good ship, sail the endless ocean of life, where the seaweed of sin, can trap them in still and dead waters. The wraiths of sailors, haunt the empty decks, where the wind teases the tattered sails. Their lonely cries, like the calls of seabirds, echo across the morning mist, for the wanderers fear, is to die far from loved ones, where the stars cry tears, that streak across the sky. There is no place like home, where those who know and understand you, drink a toast to loves' reunion!