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Rhea Sheilah Jul 24
Have you ever missed someone when he is standing right in front of you?
Yes,
Minutes ago I was standing with you
And I realized how I have missed you
I miss your aura and humorous side
I miss your random hugs and winks
I miss seeing you smile from the heart
I miss the part of you that allows me to be myself when I see you
I miss not feeling judged when I am around you
I miss the original US….
So for the past 2 days, my friend's moods changed and he was acting unusual
He would send texts and through them i feel the pain he has
but thank God for this talent, this poem has helped me get him to open up and tell me how he is feeling.

there are days in life, when we feel low and broken but then friends like me, talk to us and we are whole again.
Gangothrii Jul 23
He struggles and ponders,
reads and re-reads,
My markers fail before his eyes,
his naivety takes over,
A fruit? he queries,
I burst out in laughter,
Can be, I agree, but I await for more,
he peruses and my ribs tickled,
amused and curious, I stayed,
at his innocence that shined.
A Mango! he exclaims!
No! I equally enthused

'A woman, a fruit,
delicious and mystical,
for a man who craves'.

'Oh'  the meek sigh, a tiny sound,
concurred or dissent, I know not,
In a flash came a verbal rebuff,
back to his annoying self.

He annoys and appeases,
A friend I have known for years,
Mine forever, I know for sure,
no matter what he says.
This is for my dearest friend, Andy, who just read my poem "Alluring..Her"  and thought it is about a fruit. I promised my next is on him, and I take those seriously (my promises, not him) :)
pk tunuri Feb 5
You're the bravest I've ever known
I don't know what's hurting you to moan

When life was a problem, You stood tall
When there is a problem in life, You shall not fall

Stay strong my friend
Hard times are meant for the pain to end
We all face Hard Times.
Though it tries to knock you down,
all we have to do is "STAY STRONG".
In my arms lies a broken angel.
Her golden halo strung from her neck.
Her arms are covered in battle wounds, That spell out the hateful words that she always listened to.
I gently brushed her blonde locks from her face and kissed her eyes, whispering to her, once again, another good night.
I then gently laid her down in a bed of roses to let her sleep away the monsters.
Those that haunted her innocence and stole her youth.
Those that put her in the predicament of her broken heart
For my beautiful little Rose. I care for you so much and I want you to stay strong...

This was a poem I wrote a year ago for my best friend, who was contemplating suicide, and decided to finally post it.

©LogenMichel copyright 2015
In Loving Honor of Joseph Wulf
R.I.P.
Christi Michaels  8-31-2015
☆●♡●☆

Tonight my friend could not breathe
Lungs ravaged from long ago
Served our country as a young man
Shoulders, hip and leg bones
broke by the jungles below

A Harley Man through and through
JFD's became his Corps
Never wavered in his allegiance
to his country or his force

One of the smartest men
I have ever known
Could recite passages from long ago
abreast of topics from far and wide
a history buff so knowlegable

A brother to many, a father to one
Devoted to all he loved
A truer friend could not be had
So very popular he was!!

Joe was my protector
as I was a wild young thing
Was my confidant and
chaperone starting at just 17

Accompanied the first date with
my husband 30 years ago
Gave his blessings that first night~
To my children he was Uncle Joe

The older brother I never had.
Blessed to love him 40 years
My whole being trembles at the
thought of losing him
I weave Love within these tears

☆●●♡●●♡●●☆
~Christi Michaels~April 2015~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

♡●♡●♡●♡    Ode to Joe   ♡●♡●♡●♡
This poem was written upon Joe entering
Hospice. His sisters provided
Constant Vigil and Loving Care.
Joe passed on 8-15-2015
This was read at Joes Military Burial
Fort Snelling National Cemetery
Fort Snelling, Minnesota
8-31-2015
We Are Stories Feb 2015
My world!
My beautiful world!
Your mouths are endless fountains of profound shouts and
I have seen the things you breathe in man's hearts and
I've tried to tell my brothers that they're lies,
But we keep letting your voices in every time.

My world told me that poetry was supposed to be my only thing
And my only way of expressing my inner me.
It told me lies about who I was and how I should think.
It told me that I need to write like I bleed this ink.

My God!
I don't want anyone else to think that I'm still in love with me!
You are the only thing I want to see
And your hope has grounded me by your streams!
I'm in love with you and how you fill up my dreams!

I'm not an aching, brooding, bleeding, receding, deceiving
Deceasing, cheating, repeating voice with a black heart beating.
I am your son!
I don't know how you allow the dust of the earth
To be rebirth into your arms and claim you as a father!
My voice was always meant to be singing love songs to you.
Recently I've been dying to sing again.

I want you to know that
When I go that
I just wanted to hold my God's hand
And dance with him forever.

I want you to know that
When I go that
I honored my father with my lips
And used my fiery tongue to bless and encourage.
Nite Jan 2015
My friend is an amazing poet!
You see, I never knew
Till recently when he showed me a piece
While we were out for a tea date that was way overdue

We used to talk about everything and anything
My friend and I, we have many things in common
We'll talk about Star Wars, music, movies,
TV shows, shoes
Even books from James Clemens

But we stopped hanging out a while back
Even though we still see each other daily
We hardly talked, we drifted apart
We were so busy but I did miss him greatly

One day I noticed that he had this vacant look in his eyes
And I knew that he must be troubled
For although he was smiling at everyone
I felt this urge to look out and catch him if he stumbled

So after bugging him for a gazillion time
That we needed to catch up
He finally agreed to go out for tea
Where we talked with no one to interrupt

We talked and talked like we used to
Time passed slowly as our cups of tea and cigarette butts cluttered the table
Then he showed me a poem he had written
Which left me speechless and looking at my new idol

Wow! He sure can write
His writing is so inspiring it touches the soul
I felt ashamed sitting next to someone such as he
Someone who could turn his words into gold

So I would like to thank him for sharing this part of his life with me
I know my poem can never be as good as his has been
But hopefully he'll find this pleasing
Thank You Ryn!!!!
Wrote this over a couple of months. Tried my best to do justice to this amazing, gifted friend of mine. Here's to many more years and cups of tea together!  Hope you like it!
Thank you for inspiring me to start writing again! Oh and I'm happy that we're hanging out again!
Forgotten Dreams Jun 2014
I could never be a poet,
I don't seem to have a way with words.
They don't flow like a river...
Or come to me on a breeze...
I just stumble upon them,
Purely by mistake.

I could never be a poet,
Because my work is just for me.
Call me selfish...or stupid...
To both I would agree,
Because I seem to spout stupidity,
And I keep it all to me...

I could never be a poet,
My words are not beautiful nor smart,
So I look to you in awe,
Your words drifting along,
Fitting together perfectly...
Because you, my friend, are a Poet.

— The End —