I knew he was dying
I thought maybe a few weeks left
So still and so quiet
This man whose laugh made us all laugh
The man who always had ideas
Where to go, what to do for a laugh
Always a laugh
Sharer of adventures
Partner in crime
For thirty-six crazy years
Dying before my eyes and
Taking much of my life with him

He'd had a massive stroke a year earlier
They said he'd die then
But he defied them and recovered a lot
Proper conversations and learning to walk
Then they discovered that he had cancer
And here we were five weeks later
"How long are you gonna be in here?" I asked
He turned his head and looked hard at me
"I die next week," he said
As though he had an appointment

He got three days, not a week
I cried seeing him dying
But I was relieved for him when he did
Now my old friend is gone
And it's a duller world without him

                                       By Phil Roberts

We'll meet in our life's afternoon
As the morning's all but gone
Lessons learned, small scars, big tears,
but no regrets at all

I'll share the bread and wine I've brought
Half or more, I have enough
I built small castles 'long the way
Money and its comforts
this time easily they came

I'll be merely who I am
I stopped pretending long ago,
to be something that I'm not
or caring what the critics say
When writing of me in the times

And so I'll meet you free and clear
Mind and body, both are sound
Thanks to yoga, and reflection
About life's meaning and that of love
One and the same they seem to be

Please don't rush; I will be here
Take care to learn your lessons well
Arrive too soon and you'll still be searching
For the self you've yet to find

How lovely though that day will be
And all they days from then till night
Walking hand in hand
No concern of other lovers
or casual friends that want us just the same

And we will have the love
that lovers always dream of
but never preserve to find
and exiting too soon
wind up miles from the spot

I'll meet you by the rising sun
And somehow will just know your name
As you will mine, and hair and eyes
While moving at the spend of sound
My lover, soon is soon enough

The first time I saw him, I was just barely 16 years old. The types of boys I went for at just barely 16 years old were soft, and feminine, with bangs in their face they'd flip back to look cute. At just barely 16 years old, he was a man. A 19 year old man with a beard. A man with a beard who smoked cigarettes. A man with a beard who smoked cigarettes, marijuana, and drank alcohol. His shirts had holes in them and his jeans were frayed at the bottom. He was the exact opposite of my type. Truly, I thought he was gross. At just barely 16 years old, a man with a beard who smoked cigarettes, marijuana, and drank alcohol was terrifying, and intimidating, and the exact opposite of my type, and of course I fell madly in love with him. I don't believe in one true love. Disney movies tried to convince me that I should and do, but, something always bothered me about the idea. I don't  believe in one true love, but I believe in soulmates. I don't believe in one true love, but I believe in love, and I believe that one of the biggest tragedies human beings inflict upon themselves is preventing themselves from being with someone they love. So then why? So then why am I doing exactly that? I still see him the way I saw him the first time I saw him. Except... less gross. I see you. I still see you. I see that you're sick, and I see that you're suffering. And I see that I am the reason that you're suffering, and I see that you're making me suffer in return. At least, I see that that's how you see it. So, now I'm suffering without you because I'm choosing to, because I keep getting told that I'm better off without you, even though better is a feeling and I don't… FEEL... better, and I know that you're better off without me.

There was a time when we were strangers;
ships that passed in the cover of night.
We sailed parallel those lonely waters
not knowing that soon we'd be in sight.

There was a time when we were friends;
you wished only to reach the shore,
but my compass was spinning, our journey just beginning
and so I took you aboard.

There was a time when we were lovers,
but our ship soon started to leak.
We battened the hatches, bailing her out,
but hopes were battered and meek.

An unspoken pact and a final kiss,
letting you drift from my fingertips.
I readied the very last lifeboat,
but the captain goes down with the ship.

Strangers become lovers and lovers become strangers
through sailing the seas of time,
but this mariners tragedy's worth the memories
of when I called you mine.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

What words of  beauty could ever near thy beauty?
Thou art fairer than Seraphs of heaven,
Peerless than the fairest night skie's sentry,
For paradise, thine eyes dost betoken.
Long I've sailed in my boat of poetry,
With golden oars of fairest metaphors,
Craving to fish thee some words of sheer beauty,
From whispering rills, from wildest rivers,
Down a silvery halcyon sea, thought,
Where often I wonder from shore to shore;
But dusk fades, dawn breaks having fished naught,
'Tis then fair nymphs croon me a tune so low:

"For she's nothing but a beauty reflection,
What on earth could near her beauty complexion?"


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
Jumeira, Dubai
30th June 2017


   **Literally, I penned this sonnet many moons ago to a person who might read it never and so I decided to keep it...., but, on passing by beauteous roses wafting an ineffable scent upon whispering winds this morn,  transfixed I was struck by a violent thought, "Why not to as well whisper such a lovely sonnet unto the mighty winds that dost blow from shores of the east to the western clime as to caress souls of all lovers at HelloPoetry who spared their precious time to pray for such an amateur Bard like me when I was bedridden a couple of days back?"
     Honestly, I may not be able to thank everyone of Ye in person, but wholeheartedly I dedicate such a lovely sonnet to Ye.

Thank goodness I'm now feeling better and ready to share with Ye once again.

One is the bluebird
whose wings carried my burdens
heavier than mountains

One is the bluebird
who flew across starry skies
and silvery snow

One is the bluebird
whose eyes sincere and solemn
lovingly gazed into mine

Alas, it never cut my guilt
for letting it go to start anew

So, one day maybe
I, again, will hear its voice that chirps and comforts,
and to push me onward... To where I belong ...

I know we may not be the same
And it might be hard for someone to see us in the same frame
But you are one of the few people I can call a friend
Because when I told you my problems you taught me how to mend my broken pieces back together
And showed me that I deserved better
And you showed me how to move on
So I was no longer a pawn in her game.
Now it's my turn to do the same
And show you that you deserve it all
And help you tear down the wall
That people have built to block your view
Of everything that is meant for you.