"befriend" poems
1096
These Strangers, in a foreign World,
Protection asked of me—
Befriend them, lest Yourself in Heaven
Be found a Refugee—
16.1k
between the concrete river
& the park where the bums share a bottle
wrapped in a brown paper sack,
there is a cul-de-sac of plastic houses
holding hands & sharing manicured lawns
wooden cars that don't even make any smoke
drive down gray asphalt streets.
fathers that tell mothers they have jobs
wear down street corners sharing beers with the bums,
like they already are one.
all these paper families rubbing shoulders
until everyone has paper cuts.
going home to dinner around a table full of paper love.
suburbia is flimsy
paper towns shining white
smiling neighbors & shared lawns
paper people slowly falling apart.
couples with their tongues down each other's throats,
midnight in supermarket parking lots
dribbling beer in the backseat
they bought off the bums.
they say,
I love you, I love you, I love you.
until she leaves for a paper husband
& he leaves for a paper wife.
now they live on two separate cul-de-sacs
with the same cutout love,
as the parents they despised.
& when they have kids one day
they will tell them
*never kiss before driving,
never befriend bums,
or guzzle cheap beer in backseats,
or on park swings.
& never settle for a paper husband
or a paper wife.*
remembering the love
that was flimsy,
but never paper.
100,000 miles away from where they grew up
& 3,000 miles away from each other
3 kids each & plastic houses
rubbing shoulders & sharing lawns
living in a paper thin suberbia
chafing under their paper love.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 3:09 AM UTC
I hate marijuana.
It is a class A drug for a reason.
It destroys your brain and brings anarchy to the world.
Me looks both ways to see if anyone around
ok mon, now dat da feds are gone, lets get ta business.
***Me inhales me blessed ******
**** is cool. It's actually really nice.
If ya t'ink otherwise, den ya better t'ink twice.
Me gonna tell you, why Reggae is my life.
Me love Reggae so much me wish it was me wife.
Marijane is me love. Spliffs and Reefers too.
Kush makes me so hot you'd t'ink I had da flu.
Why should ya smoke herb? Me gonna tell you why.
When ya smoke heaven's grass ya feel like ya gonna fly.
Away from all ya problems. Towards a purposeful end.
Makes ya feel, so nice. **** you will soon befriend.
******
hErb
Green
Grass
****
Everything Cook and Curry (Reggae term for "Everything is Fine")
REGGAE
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Initiate our souls into the light
Flamingo yes your hue is burning bright
Your colors lighting up the night
We migrate out of darkness within you
Enlighten us to heal our weary hearts
To be with love and never to depart
Appreciating brand new starts
Your beauty resonates us deep within
We want nothing more than with you to be free
To fly away from stress along with thee
Our wings could only hope to grow
As beautiful as yours unfold
You are the breath of freshened air
Our spirits call to breathe repair
In my memory of you I see poise
Noticing your stance without a noise
Perfectly still you are seen
Tranquil in life's pond so serene
As we pass through to become in ourselves
Teach us how to become nothing else
Than the magnetic beautiful creatures
Spirit designed with every feature
We are a gift to the flowing
Always coming always going
There never seems to be enough
Time in the universe thereof
To take a moment to enjoy
And therefore we destroy
This is an ode to your sweet nature
A song of love and light not danger
A memory we are creating
A vibrant show of figure skating
In the circle of acceptance now
Our wings are rising up to bow
Take in the scenery with deepened breath
Never afraid of shaking hands with death
For we are peaceful and at rest
Knowing we always do our best
A true beginning has no end
Drinking from life as we befriend
The journey of our soul path
In a spiritual rose bath
Amen
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Poetry In Motion: Strawberry Lemonade [Final Version/Re-Edit]
Pre Chrous:
Strawberry lemonade mix of us,
You can be yourself
I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade
I want to chill with you,
Acknowledge your self worth
Strawberry lemonade of your self love maintain your self care
Strawberry lemonade befriend your self-esteem
Strawberry lemonade be you, do you
Ignore what society says
Strawberry lemonade
Chrous:
Strawberry lemonade I want to chill with you,
I can be myself with you,
Strawberry lemonade you can chill with me,
You can be yourself with me
Come chill with me, you can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade come chill come thru
I can be myself with and you can be yourself with me
Strawberry lemonade get chilled with you
Chrous:
Strawberry lemonade
Chill with you
Strawberry lemonade
Chill with me
Strawberry lemonade
You can be yourself I can be myself
Come chill come Thru
you can be yourself I can be myself with you,
Strawberry lemonade mix of us
Be ourselves
Bridge:
You free to be yourself with me
I free to be myself with you
Free to be yourself free to be myself
Mix of strawberry lemonade
We free to be ourselves
Strawberry lemonade,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
Be yourself with me I be myself with you
Outro:
Strawberry lemonade forget what society says,
You can be yourself I can be myself
Strawberry lemonade,
Strawberry lemonade,
I want to get chilled with you,
You can be yourself I can be myself
We can love ourselves
Strawberry lemonade
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 2:09 PM UTC
Acceptance of another requires bravery.
Not the loud, brawling courage
brought and left on the battlefield.
Rather the quiet kind of bravery when
she catches glimpses of my personal darkness
and still stays.
Her type of bravery is when
the fractured light fixtures behind my eyes flicker
before going out, plunging me in darkness.
She sits beside me sharing that dark.
She not only sees my enraged monsters
but tries to befriend them, understand them.
At times I’m deathly afraid of myself.
But she never seems to be.
And that is the greatest kind of bravery.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
For the first two months of college I didn’t speak
Convinced everyone here are hillbilly freaks
Then you asked to borrow my paint brush
Long brown hair in a bun and brows so lush
I gave it to you in a heartbeat
Because you were the first person I thought was neat
Im still not sure how I got so lucky to befriend you
I’ve never felt a connection this real and true
When we sit in the forest smoking **** and cigarettes
And you’re still wearing the same paint covered sweats
Singing to Rihannon by Fleetwood Mac
I felt myself gaining my soul back
I can’t decipher what’s hiding behind your dark brown eyes
But your passion for art is as tall as the skies
You inspired me to change my point of view
Maybe this place isnt so bad, who knew
Your kindness cracked my heart’s thick shell
And painted the lines with shades of pastel
No boy ever told me they cried when they moved away
Your open and truthful soul makes everything ok
The freckles sprayed on your cheeks are like artwork
That’s a companion piece to your crooked smirk
I cried thinking we would drift apart once school’s done
But you told me we’ll always be friends in the long run
So
Thank you
Thank you for being my friend
Thank you for being who you are
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
I wonder if death is the pen
in the story of my life
and that life is the paper
like the canvas of an artist
I wonder if the pen burst
or if I have a creative author
I wonder and wish even more
that my paper can just end
and my story can be published
in your library of life
I wish, oh I wish
the paper will befriend the pen
like the beauty tamed the beast
and the sugar of sin held him tight
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC
~
*Learning to patch. Learning to mend.
Learning to venture. Learning to comprehend.
Learning to capture and befriend.
Inventing the berry. Inventing the cream.
Inventing sweet slices before bedtime
and the Fragaria colored dream.
Loving new life. Loving each child.
Securing the stem and raising the vine
by loving the wife.*
~
May 29, 2023
May 29, 2023 at 2:56 PM UTC
*I'd befriend the obsidian sky...
I'd shower it with a bounty of praises.
So that it'll welcome my nightly gaze,
without threats from overbearing clouds.
I'd impress the twinkling stars
by serenading them with songs unheard by most.
So that when the time comes,
they'd cast their votes in my favour.
I'd whisper to the nighttime breeze.
I'd cavort and giggle at its slightest touch.
So that when I fly my flag,
it'll catch it in full billows for her to see.
Then finally...
I'd woo the twilight moon...
For she is the prize
my heart had sought to pursue.
I'd court her
with the fiercest blaze that burns within...
In hopes that she'd forever
remember me as the suitor that had
fallen helplessly.*
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
sometime I feel so much
rage inside of me
deep seated anger seethes
usually lying dormant till
it's called out
no matter how spiritual I get
I haven't been able to befriend
my anger
anger boils to rage
and I want to take it out on
the people closest to me
the wheel of suffering turns
and I feel so powerless
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 6:30 AM UTC
Where as one told me a Girl so Beloved
Whose White Soldiers fought hard to overtake
But Bless her River-Red Defense involved
Un-sully her Soft-Flaming Mind does make
Grateful for the Favour you volunteer
Though Shy, Cross-Country we can still befriend
Souls like you, Countenance; And in Best Cheer
The Angel whose Healing Hands recommend
May I know your Name? So that I Sponsor
At least in Spirit Common Bonds reveal
Hands clasped, and pray for Hope in your Honour
Dear Sweet Maple from Mountie's Duty - HEAL!
I'll let you Rest now. And Mum take over
To Pepper your Dreams on Light's recover.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
The ****** of the east and west,
At Your recovery we all rest,
Lord is merciful but the people are not.
Clocks tick and the days goes by,
I'm afraid that you will never be forgotten.
The west will dangle you
Before the eyes of thousands.
For all the thousand things they want
Your agendas are quite right I'm afraid,
Perhaps they thought metal was the answer.
They were afraid as well.
Showed, praised and written about,
Cherished and awarded.
Our dear malala.
I can't help think,
Perhaps you're a puppet
And west the clever puppeteers.
Brave as you are,
I know for sure now that
You don't stand a chance.
Life might be short but it seems like an eternity.
For change is what you want,
You don't reside with the enemy,
You don't accept their awards.
When a government can't assure us change,
What chance do you stand with your words,
For you are just a girl with a bullet hole.
And half this country is drowned in illiteracy.
Brace yourself sweetheart,
Cause you are just another girl,
Where millions others are fighting a real fight,
All you do is befriend the woeful west.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
Happy Mother’s Day to the person who’s always with me
To the one who helped me become the person I’m today
To the one who taught me to treat others how I treat myself
Happy Mother’s Day to the person whose approval I craved
To the one who helped me understand that nobody will ever care for me
To the one who taught me that I’m a piece of garbage myself
Happy Mother’s Day to the person whose laugh I was scared of
To the one who helped me know that I’m undeserving of love
To the one who taught me to hate the mirror image of myself
Happy Mother’s Day to the person whose voice haunts me
To the one who helped me avoid responsibility and criticism
To the one who taught me reasons why I should **** myself
Happy Mother’s Day to the person who made me scared of thinking
To the one who helped me breed hate in who fundamentally am
To the one who taught me that others will always be better than myself
Happy Mother’s Day to the person who made feel guilty of my depression
To the one who helped me find innovative ways to hurt me without a trail
To the one who taught me that everything wrong is a fault in myself
Happy Mother’s Day to the person who made me a mom to my siblings
To the one who helped me get rid of my carefree childhood joy
To the one who taught me that in life one can only care for themself
Happy Mother’s Day to the person who isolated me of the ones I loved
To the one who helps me know my worth in negative numbers
To the one who taught me jealousy and that I'm hers
Happy Mother’s Day to the person who fed me lies as facts
To the one who helped me befriend an ED princess
To the one who taught me that was the only way to be one
Happy Mother’s Day to the person who made me scared of accomplishing my dreams
To the one who helped me endure years of abuse and neglect as a mask for love
To the one who taught me that I could never be truly happy
Happy Mother's Day to the person who polluted the word mother for me
To the person who made me dread being a mother myself
To the person that I'm horrified of emulating and ******* other child's life up
Happy Mother's Day to my mom
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 10:11 PM UTC
She seemed nice when I met her.
(Dyed) Brown hair and
Perfect ( Colored In) eyebrows and
A good kick.
She's played soccer before,
Just like me.
Even had a nice personality,
Or so I thought.
I wanted to befriend her but
She had other plans.
Now, when I see her at practice
I feel bad about myself.
Soccer used to be my
Safe haven and now it's
Turned into an unbearable sport
All because of the girl with the
(Dyed) Brown hair and
Perfect (Colored In) eyebrows and
A good kick in the
Face.
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
I am the one who wears a scarf around her face , while walking in the dark,
The one who gets affected by your ‘harmless’ words and remarks snark,
But, you won’t recognize me, won’t even stop judging me for saying this, that’s for sure,
So, let me introduce you to myself, hello there, I am your victim, the one who is insecure.
I am just a servant, a worthless one, in your powerful, popular , betraying regime,
Just someone negligible, created by Him to make you laugh, not even worth your ‘precious’ time,
An anonymous personality, you call me a ******* fat *** **** ******* an emotional fool,
I am the one who gets punished without committing a single crime, without breaking any rule.
But, you won’t recognize me, won’t even stop judging me for saying this, that’s for sure,
So, let me introduce you to myself, hello there, I am your victim, the one who is insecure.
You will never treat me as I am , never think of me as a human being,
No matter how hard I try, to ignore you, to befriend you, to you, I will always remain a funny thing.
But, when it will be your turn to offer flowers on my grave, free of scars which will be, as well as pure,
That will be the moment when you will look at others and exclaim, “Oh, what a pity, I knew her, wasn't she the one who was insecure?”
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 6:55 AM UTC
.*i guess a loss of subscriptions is, somehow, a badge of honor, namely? i somehow managed to attach a screwdriver to my words... why? read below... English women consider motherhood to be a job... how ******* demeaning! gone are the days of womanhood attaining the stature of god, in the Christian methodology of encompassing the pivot of lady Madonna... perhaps a too high peddle-stool? i guess so... i'm not usurping the female status, but elevating a female stature, deeming motherhood an UNESCO status? seems it's too much... for some people... who make it necessary to befriend their shadow, and travel to the hinterlands.*
just your atypical pedantry,
a translator's subscript comment -
who's richard rojcewicz's...
regarding what?
heidegger...
das volk,
and the three derivatives -
volkhaft (populist),
volklich (communal)
und?
völkisch (folkish) -
i'm starting to suspect that
i'm tapping in the all things folk....
unconsciously, favoring folk
music...
see, us central europeans,
we bunch together and share
the most odd similarities -
i never thought that the song
herr mannelig could be translated
from Swedish - as it was
translated into German...
then again... Vikings founded Kiev...
and all these loan-words
of Germanic origin in Polish...
the only Anglo loan-word
that i know of, is, weekend...
hence, das volk, people -
by the way... German has "too many"
definite articles,
and only one ein - or eine -
is that the same rule as in Ęnglish?
i.e. N
in an example,
rather than in a counter example?
two vowels adjacent in separate
word, sitting across from the grand
chasm of... a spacing itch?
but look at German, i never get it...
DAS DIE DER...
is there an aesthetic difference,
and only an aesthetic difference
to mind?
bewildering...
if there is such a thing as a western
civilization...
that sometime
pompous obnoxiousness,
fair enough... no problem:
but learn to hide it,
feel it, rather then feed it...
it's not a question of a civilization,
but more...
an answer to what is less
civilization, and more... a chore...
just like western women,
notably the english women
call motherhood a, "job"...
it's a... wait... a job?
doubt was big in classic philosophy
of the Cartesian schematic...
so no one knows that
the French existentialists
brought in negation,
as the driving force to replace
doubt?
who the hell sees doubt
these days?
either the know it alles -
or the hush-hush crowd...
motherhood is a... job?
well... then i guess, being a man...
western civilization,
by that standard of logic...
can't be anything more...
than a.... ******* chore!
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
It isn't difficult to befriend
Especially in this virtual/real world
A warm smile
A simple "hi"
A "like" in the social network
A "share" of a posting..
Just a spoon of warmth
A pinch of freshness
A drop of love
A bit of seasoning
Is all that needed for a
Perfect recipe of friendship..
A show of solidarity
A mark of respect
A word of compassion
That is more than enough
If we cant even do that much
Then what is life for??
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 9:10 AM UTC
All these days
I thought I was fated
Challenged against my will
To gain the trust of strangers
Strangers who turn into friends
Friends who turn into lovers
Lovers who turn heartbroken
I don’t bow my head to their feet
I bow down way beneath
To offer this trust
In desperation to be trusted
With the impression that trust happens on the outside.
While I feed my soul to the world outside
While I feed myself an understanding
That strangers turn into friends,
I am blinded away from my world on the inside.
Those I always know are my own
Become more transparent than invisibility
Those I take for granted as my own,
Become the strangest of strangers.
While I chisel and chisel away
I shape strangers into friends
Friends into lovers
Until I carve a bit too deep into the stone
Realizing a little too late its fragility
Lovers turn broken hearted
And I fall
And there they appear all over again
My very own strangers
They reappear
With love
They disappear again
With strangeness
Yet only they appear again
And again
Godsend, these strangers are
They let me walk away from them
They let me befriend
They let me love
They let me hurt and get hurt
They let me fall
They watch me fall
Yet they appear,
Only to pick me up again
To hold me with grip
To be my crutch, my wheel and my horn
To be the strangers I first opened my eyes to
To be the strangers who showed me friendship
To be the strangers who taught me love
To be the strangers whose hearts are too strong to break
To be the strangers I call,
My family.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 8:55 AM UTC
How Sweetingly Rare to see this Advise,
The Westfold Bard who shares this Ancient Art
But Performed it Better to his Concise
And took Definition for his Good Part
I just knew you now. So what of belate
As Mentored Dolphins with Water's Tie befriend
I found this Artist; This Cornerstone Great
And Hope your Elder's Tongue will never end
You, Sir, confirmed my Efforts; This I Bow
And hand you the Medal I sought to seek
I am no Patron; Neither plan so now
Only the Purest Abe in Honest meek.
Now please Sing on, and Live to Peak Content
I write my Sighs; But these Praises I meant.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Gabby Abrego
I'll never let you go go
unless we go to Mexico
and you be come a hobo!
Then I'll go.
and fetch the so co.
so we can dance to disco
eat enchiladas with adobo
pick the **** out of our Afros!
We'll feel so funky,
the people will get spunky
when we arrive on donkeys,
and ride around their towns!
We'll befriend all the junkies
and give them howler monkeys,
it'll be so funny
we'll laugh until you cry!
Ohh! Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go
unless I get you prego
then I'll run like mad!
cuz if we had a baby
I'd stop being lazy
get as famous as THE LADY
support you like Eminem did for his baby.
So Never Ever leave me
Or I'll succumb to Scientology
and go even more crazy
my world'd become a mystery.
I'd rather be a rhino
rather be tricked into a *****
rather be married to Bono
in a movie starring J.Lo
be forced to live with Yoko Ono
have red eyes like an albino
than to ever be with out
Gabby Abrego!!!
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 1:01 AM UTC
This is a lot more formal than writing it out for you, besides you usually can’t read my handwriting anyways. I’m sure you’re sick of my notes by now, but later in life they might matter, or we might break up and burning them might be part of your healing process. Being with you has changed my life drastically, in the best way possible, I didn’t want to live. I had no hope for my future, I felt as if I was standing three feet in cement and I was sinking fast. And then a man with ******** comments came into my life for whatever reason, and changed me for the better. I want to succeed, be the best woman possible for you, though I make you mad at times because of my quick temper and tendency to befriend a bit too many guys, I appreciate you in more ways than you can ever imagine.
I have never met a man as kind as you, or a man who cares so much about the people he loves. Loyalty has always meant something to me because I never had it; the amount of people that have been disloyal sickens me at times, for I was the one to believe they were something different. Yet, I found you; you are the most loyal man I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Being with you feels different, I have never craved the attention of anyone before, but having you with me eases whatever pain I’ve felt in the last couple of days. Our relationship has been something I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world; you’ve accepted me as myself and loved me for my flaws. I am but a plain girl to be frank, I am not extraordinary or exceptional, but holding your hand, or lying next to you, makes me feel beautiful for whatever reason.
I haven’t had the courage to tell you ever story in my head, or blurt out every thought in my head for I fear I am partially insane. You put up with me wishing I was a leaf, theories on dead birds, and the habit of my resting in too many trees. Just the fact that you’re willing to climb trees with me, or explain how beautiful crows are, makes me fall so deeply in love with the person you are. I understand at times why so many people adore you, as beautiful as a person you are. Being without you feels like two thirds of me are missing, as if I have ghost limbs and I keep reaching out to see if you’re there when you’re not. I love you immensely, though I love you doesn’t compare to the way I feel, words or actions can’t describe who you are to me.
You treat me as if letting me go would be the end of the world and I thought I didn’t understand that until I think of the thought of you leaving. Thoughts like these steal my breath away, and the ground beneath me, because losing you means losing a part of whom I am, and that is terrifying.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
I try to like maths
Maths unliked me
I try to befriend maths
Maths unfriend me
Maths create an invisible problem
And expect you to find a solution
I wonder why humans create a problem and look for a solution
In time maths came in to show problems are part of life
This is something I learned from mathematics
There is always something to learn
Apr 9, 2021
Apr 9, 2021 at 10:04 AM UTC
It was a moment of painful despair
Typing between tears and gasping for air
Convinced there was no one left who cared
This was my final, desperate plea
The call for help, so hard to see
My broken heart rejecting life in me
Deleted moments after my posting
I felt the world - "worth ghosting"
And very little expected opposing
What was the point anyway?
But then, your words reached out to mine
Chased away the screaming in my mind
Cradled my shattered soul in kind
And over the course of weeks, befriend
Refound purpose; continued me to mend
A feeling of trust that cannot bend.
Saved from a monster from deep within
My will to live, once so paper thin
Gratitude for you, where could I ever begin?
Sep 27, 2022
Sep 27, 2022 at 11:27 PM UTC
Welcome to the maze, the maze of life.
Solve the puzzle, get to the end.
And your efforts will be rewarded.
There are no rules to this maze,
but here are a few to help you along.
Rule number 1: The maze is forever changing.
So always be alert!
Rule number 2: Be careful who you trust, and those you befriend.
And rule number 3, the most important rule:
NEVER mess with the maze!
And you can be assured that the same will be done for you.
Make a wrong move; you've reached a dead end.
Stray off the path, now you're ******
Every exit, Leads to an entrance.
Just another puzzle...
Waiting patiently to be solved
A few last words, before you begin
This is the maze of life.
It may appear seamlessly endless,
But don't be fooled.
Good luck, and always stay strong.
And just remember this;
For there ever to be a beginning…
There must always be an end.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC