"buddy" poems
That which I discovered a Beat Squire
A Potential who I Trust can be Friend
As sincere as the News he respires
Giving you Updates which does make us Bend
Kaibigan, should you show the Numb Male
Which Ingredients we are truly made of
He chose you. That alone should just prevail
And Rice the Staple makes your Friendship oft
I mean this Good Thing. Being at your Best
And Youth such Buddy could ever provide
Live out this Stage well. Far from what the Least
Full-Cupped Elders think they could just Advise.
My Part is done. Decisions are your own
This Future is yours; Make it well-known.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 4:19 AM UTC
To some siblings are a gift from God
To some siblings are a curse from hell
But to me....
siblings are...
A shoulder to cry on when I overflow
An ear to listen when I need to clear mii head
A body to talk to when I'm not in the mood
Mii help me when I can't do it alone
Mii life preserver when I swim out to far
Mii buddy when I wanna play
Mii closest friend whom no one can replace
Mii guardian who has mii back when I'm too busy covering the front
Mii treasure box in which I confide all of mii precious secrets
Mii compass for when I've lost mii way
Mii salt for when mii food is tasteless
Mii hope when I'm backed up against the wall
Mii night light when I'm afraid to sleep
Mii....
I have no more words to describe mii siblings for no one can truly use words to say just what...
Mii siblings are to me...
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
I feel the need to apologise for the way that I am.
I have no control, as if I was a computer programme.
I’m sorry that the slightest thing can shift my mood,
I’m sorry I can be impulsive and have a bad attitude.
This inappropriate anger is not intentional
and I swear to god
I know it’s unacceptable.
My friendships are a rollercoaster,
it’s practically bipolar.
One second I’m all lovey dovey
and the other second it will be as if you were never my buddy.
This is who I am and I hate it.
I’m sorry I’m like this,
I’m sorry I see no bliss.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC
Mark A. Williams
SEPTEMBER 14, 1962 – JULY 23, 2018
___________________________________________________________
Wow Mark,
Was so, so saddened to hear this news. I haven't seen you in over ten years, but as kids, we had some amazing adventures, didn't we? Partying, camping and swimming at the Hudson lime pits. Mowing down on Pizza and pitchers of Pepsi (and as we grew up, BEER!) at Pizza Hut. (We knew the numbers to ALL the songs on that jukebox by heart!) Hanging out and looking at the stars through Budvido's telescope, listening to Doctor Demento. Laughing hysterically as we ran through Monty Python skits as everyone looked on in total puzzlement because THEY wouldn't discover them until YEARS later!
Building underground forts in the North Woods. You, Budvido, Zeke and I playing pinball at 7-11 for hours and hours. Watching Bands, chasing girls and playing Foosball or Pool at the Touch of Class Teen Club. You gave me my first Imported beer . . . a Lowenbrau. I will always owe my passion for those German beers to you and it was fitting that Budvido bestowed you with that moniker.
All through Jr. High, sharing a seat on the school bus. You, Matt, Tom, Buddy and I cruising around late night on our bikes for hours. Hanging around in the Jasmine Lakes sign with hijacked beer or getting free bags of Burgers from Burger Queen when they closed at night! Jousting with shopping carts on our bikes in the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Sitting up all night in Jimi's room after climbing in through the window or going on endless space cruises with him and Raymond in the Toyota.
(RIP Jimi Carlsen)
Sneaking into the nudest Colony and skinny dipping! Always cracking up at the school lunch table. Swimming in my pool and terrorizing my sister and her friends. (Allegedly) Trashing that crook Fast Eddie's produce stand after he refused to pay us for a full day of picking watermelons!
Good times, indeed . . . Some of my most precious memories.
I can only pray that you know that I wouldn't trade my youth or you in it for anything in the world and you will be sadly missed, Lowenbrau, my old friend.
I hope that where you are, your beers are ice cold and that you and Jimi aren't having to glue the Hookah back together.
Jeff Gaines
July 28, 2018
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
Depression.
One word.
Pretty easy to say.
But what you don’t know
Is that it controls my day.
The sun rises as I go to get out of bed
yet depression whispers “You’d be better off dead.”
But I push through those words and I make it to class
when it comes to concentration, depression kicks me in the ***
So I go to eat lunch, but nothing looks appetizing
depression smiles at me and asks if that’s surprising
Another class, let’s see how this one goes
Will I pass this test? Only depression really knows
Cause last night when I went home and tried to study
depression was surely there, my only buddy
And although I tried to do my absolute best
depression said, “I think we’ll fail this test.”
My teachers look at me in absolute disgust
I try to tell the truth, but depression doesn’t let me trust
So instead I say I’m sick, a cold or maybe the flu
But I’m sick inside my head, and depression proves that true
You can’t expect them to understand the pain and the sorrow
This depression is unique to me, you’d only know if my mind you could borrow
But back to my daily routine, I didn’t mean to digress
sometimes my thoughts start racing, depression never lets me rest
Which leads me to sleep, for some the best part of the night
Dear depression, will you let me sleep? Maybe, I just might
Then I look at the clock and it’s almost four in the morning
Depression, why are you doing this? In my mind it’s nearly storming
For most are in their beds, cuddled up all snug and tight
But depression sowed up early this morning, so I have to be ready to fight
Some have called me strong, but that is not how I feel
for depression clouds my head, and I’m not sure what’s real
And there it is again, the sun has stared to rise
I’ve made it through another day, to depression, that’s a surprise.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 10:45 PM UTC
A message for Elsa
Please won't you be
Won't you be
My hug Bud-ee?
We can hug in the night
And during the day
We are loving friends
And its okay
If you have a boyfriend
We are just hugging anyway
We share a concern
For each other
And to show how
We love one another
In our special way
We love to hug
And this is okay
One hug
Two hugs
Three or Four
We care for
Each other
So much
Let's just hug some more
I'm so huggable
And so are you
Just look at what
These hugs can do
We are laughing
And smiling
Because hugs feel good
You should try hugging to
You really should
Elsa will you forever be
Forever be
My hug buddy?
Would you care
For a fruit bowl
Maybe a yogurt cup?
I'll make some good food
To fill you up
I'm thankful for
The loving comments
You write
And I'm not embarrassed
To say
I think of giving you a hug
When I squeeze my pillow
At night
A warm and caring person
Is what you are
And my how your
Eyes shine
Like the north star
I'm grateful
To have you
As a friend
You are my hug buddy
And my hugs
To you I send
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
Kevan Fuchs died today in his sleep
In a similar way as his father of one
And actually, also my father did too
Of those bitter, big cancer scourges
Which always come in unexpected
In this short enough life, a bit early
I've known him ever since first, when
We were knee high to Dad's shotgun
Throughout our small neighborhood
We would all roam to see and look
For ***** toads and such other fun
Without any known end in our sights
We often, came all together, at once
In his parent's, little Clovis back yard
In the under ground, in our deep dug
Wild little clubhouse of our new pride
Approved by our jealous Dad's stare
Made all by ourselves, with great care
Eight by eight, with three feet of deep
Shagged carpet floors, walls around
And places to hide stuff with those
**** magazines we wished to remain
Unseen by our parents, although they
Surely lived through similar wild times
Black lights , fluorescent mod posters
Fans to cool, while there in the deep
Kept the place comfy, from several
Hot summers in New Mexico's heat
Staying nights over, in conspiracy we
Came colluding, while hoping no fame
This place was our place, of known
Refuge from all of the big crazy, with
Frightening world still yet to come
Giving us our youngest freedoms
And also so much being in trouble
As kinda neighborhood hoodlums
Far up his Dad's, tall, two-way radio tower
One of us in care would climb
With binoculars to see the dark night
With our pair of walkie talkies held
Warn the others, carousing around
Of any plight, in appearing headlights
Kevan's brother, still alive, Keith
My other brother by another, Buddy
Also at first, a weird guy, named Chris
One other member, as second cousin
Who actually, was my very first kiss
When it was hard to aim, lips to miss
All bound as one, by made up signs
And part of something called PSO
Which, if you don't know well, what it
Truly means, then you were definitely
Not a part of the so very high bliss
Which we suffered through so often
Kevan's true nature is clearly proven
Finally, most completely, at his end
In the nature of his wonderful loving
All his family, who also so loved him
And all those other parties to trouble
Who also so loved, really all of him
© 2017 Jim Davis
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
The days where i'm shy,
I call my friend along,
I speak through him
and he speaks through me
He knows how I see things,
as he sees things the way I see it,
If you know your instrument well,
you'd understand what im saying
So when day comes to present and show,
We dont feel that we are letting go,
we are a team.
and what we do, we do it together.
If you know your instrument well,
you'd understand what i'm saying
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC
...
Is that as bad as you are to me?
I relented
not because I'm tired
but because I believe that you're the best friend ever
disappointed ...
after seeing what you did
once you know how the actual
once you're comfortable with your new friend
and then I forgotten?
how poor I am
I'm not mad at you
sure
but
in fact you make me disappointed
disappointed
very very disappointed
disappointed with what you've done to me
disappointed to state that you've given me
but one thing you should know
I'm still here
and will always be here for you
my friend
my enemy
my dearest
my sister
my teacher
my favourite
my buddy,
otis
boyo
suganda
yuni tamara
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
nobody gets the cancer twice.
(a blues guitar riff)
blood in the stool
ain’t nobody’s fool,
whent to high school
did not graduate,
but know it wasn’t no thing I ate
scale greets me friendly like,
long lost buddy from yesterday morn,
‘let get right down to it,
let’s see how much less of you borne
leftover alive from the prior day’
spirit spit blood from my gums,
got me a woman, she’s way over town,
woman said I’m brushing with
too hard a brush, alright, alright,
make no fuss, she’s good to me
nobody’s fool whent to school,
though I did not graduate,
a mean riff is better than a
slow moving woman blues cry,
got the strings to do my screaming
doctor is a fan, name is Jimmy,
played music like last time round,
Jimmy-jamming, dancing in the waiting room,
“that cancer got kick, it’s gonna get ya,
think I told ya that about hunner times before”
‘nobody gets the cancer twice,’
an old wives tale for unlucky po’ somofabitches,
do you some tests, tell ya the specifics,
right now, lay, lay down them new tracks,
no quitting time less the good lord comes a-calling’
blues guitar makes a man
cry shiver scream and shake,
progressions licks and tricks,
so you can’t tell what’s making
a grownup man cry and laugh louder
bring me my medicine
bring me my guitar
all I know is how it makes me feel,
oh baby once a night it’s true,
nobody gets the cancer twice
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
Shiny flask full of fun,
Shall I fill it with whiskey or ***
Wanting only to refresh my day,
Maybe with coconut from Parrot Bay?
After all, it's my best drinking buddy
That always makes me witty and funny
With never a shout, cry or pout,
That is, until the whiskey has run out!
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 11:44 AM UTC
I never had a best friend in my life till I met you,
All I had were normal friends who were not close.
The most genuine friend I have is none other than you,
I consider it lucky that me as a best friend you chose.
Now I won't ever disappoint you, my friend,
I am learning youthful ways from you now,
Of our friendship there lies not at all an end,
They will notice us only getting closer & how.
For you, I write this poem as I am really happy today remembering all the good times that we have been spending together.
Yes I am possessive and selfish when I ask you solely for myself,
Not because I am negative, but because I am hopeful that our sun will shine,
Your happiness is my main motive as I motivate you to study for yourself,
Not because I will gain something out of it but as you are going to be happy in future.
In you I have seen an Angel,
So helpful and kind you are,
Motherly care for future patients,
Now I conclude this post buddy.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 2:49 AM UTC
My plush buddy,
Which acted as a knight,
Is ready to hug me,
When I want to fight.
My dolls and men
Which laze around all day
Come through for me
When I want to play
My insects and bands,
Which decorate the house,
Helps to scare my mom,
Like a mouse.
I love my toys,
They bring joys,
And laughter,
And playful banter.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
Classical Trumpism: Judas makes a strong and powerful betrayal.
Neo-Classical-Trumpism: *Adolph is a good friend of mine. He makes a strong
and powerful argument regarding purity.*
Contemporary Trumpism: I love and trust my little buddy, Kim.
Modern Trumpism: *Vlad, whom I trust with my marriage, makes a
reel strong and powerful argument.*
Trumpism: Sad, Sad, Sad. Witch hunt. There was no collusion.
Neo-Trumpism: *Crooked Malia and Sasha are to blame for the
collusion with Canada, Mexico and South America*.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC
Arise! Oh Heart, from the catacombs of the dead
Shake off the dust, for Life beckons you like a buddy
Peel off the weariness that wraps you like a shroud
And walk to the open to perceive the light.
Arise! Oh Heart, from the dungeons of gloom
The dawn is at your door step, waiting to break
Sing with the koel, merrily warbling in the woods
Dance with the billows, wildly prancing on the deep.
Arise! Oh Heart, from the ghettoes of *******
Break loose the ropes that moor you to the past
Dart through the panorama of the cerulean blue
And fly high into regions, uncharted and new.
Arise! Oh Heart, from the citadels of hate
Listen not to the shrieking and howling behind
Drink from the goblet of conciliating love
And rejoice at the birth of a dawn with promises galore!
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
****
My buddy
My man
The only time id eat a ginger bread man
****
I huff and I puff
And I blow nothing down
There ain't nothin but a couch and some Doritos I could even knock down
****
Couldn't hurt a fly
But I might blow smoke in your eye
****
So nice so fly
Man I'm high as the sky
****
Where am I?
At the store craving some s'mores
****
I like twix too
Don't call me a Jew
****
We all have fun
We laugh
But we're too high to run
****
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Hey, met any hot chicks lately?
Yeah, that peahen is looking at me,
soon the others will too -
not at you, buddy…Oh yeah. Get real.
Just wait till I display my train of shimmering colors
and you’ll see the peahens making a beeline for me -
and you’ll have to bury your head
in the ground for shame
like those silly ostriches do…
All males have their self-esteem hurt in my presence, sure;
you’re no exception – don’t feel too bad…you’re just bad…
The last time I displayed my train,
hey - I caused mayhem in the ancient Indian forests
as the peahens went wild…
that’s why they’ve placed a ban on me
in the land
and how I ended up in this reserve
but I’m not the one to worry,
yeah, brother
you’d better step aside
and let me show you how
I call it the Kama Sutra of the Peacock Gyrations -
learn a bite or a posture and you might
be able to put your gene-stamp
on future generations…
now if you’ll excuse me,
I’ve got a thing or two to do
with these peahens clamoring
for a peck and a neck leading
vigorously to do
the mating dance with me
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
His Down's Syndrome makes
His age a tough guess, I'll
Say eight to ten.
Wide eyes on machines,
Ice cream dripping on the
Pavement outside the
Construction site.
*I wanna work like this when
I grow up,* he says in
Young enthusiasm to a mother
Whose eyes well up with
Gratitude when I approach
And kneel down in front of
Him. *So you want a job,
Buddy?* I ask him with a
Wink. He suddenly remembers
His ice cream and bites into
It shyly. Nods, glancing at the
Tools in my belt, the scratches
On my arms, the brick wall
I've been attacking with a
Wacker jackhammer. Nods
Again. *Well, I'll see you in a
Few years,* I say with another
Wink, this time to his mother,
Who'd look her young age if
Her eyes weren't as tired,
*But you can start with this
And get some practice.* I hand
Him my Stanley Fat Max
Hammer. His ice cream
Hits the ground as he
Recieves it with both hands,
Looking to his mother for
Confirmation that it's ok.
Oh, it is. She mouths a
Thank you SO much...
They walk away, his chatter
High pitched and fading
Around the corner. And I
Head over to the foreman to
Report that I lost my hammer.
Don't ever employ me.
I can work a good game, but
I'm too soft around little heroes.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 5:53 AM UTC
****** affliction of a lack of affection companion
Hand and hand strolling greater than syrupy plunging
and even sometimes buddy shrugging over wooden noisemakers
We whistle with their metal strings
and through the pasta soft ones in our throats
but no nest colored mares seem to hear
our flamboyant feather calls for future fondling
So I scribe slight implied short letters
invites to drink joints and nature jaunts
All too well thought out
hoping your advanced technology cannot trace
the time I spent to type
The overanalysis of our psych: her and I’s
wondering why she doesn’t have an inkling
for a cute fall date where we attempt to bake apple pies
It’s all too contrived, I know
I’ll strive for delusion
Accept a useful interpretation for our chemical inflammation
and let sparks pass it by
Like itsy bitsy flies laying eggs in a wound
for stagnant water maggots
They’ll eat away the thought well
where all my cranial zaps seem to dwell.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
You've got a white scarf, but it's unreliably so
I could count on it to be white for many years
Until last year, when it didn't quite resemble snow
It changed colors, and brought up many fears
Like will you make it til tomorrow?
and will you still be here?
You used to wear it like it embodied majesty
Like you were a lion and it was your mane
Curling around your neck and screaming of divinity
I know that mane better than I know your name
(buddy)
The leaves will change and your scarf will too
Your head will bump mine, and I'll bump yours too
I'm running from my thoughts and the truth
This might be all for naught and tomorrow you
Will be here still, and I won't have to say goodbye
To your scarf, your mane, our collective life
Maybe your heart will still be kept in mine,
Released only when our heads collide
Your personality is truth
Your personality is you
I try to ask others to be like you but they can't
That plight is wrong and an ineffective chant
Your heart, your personality, your truth
Will be held in my heart regardless
of whether or not tomorrow I see you
And I do see you.
For a while there, you were hiding behind your disease
But now you're able to come out of your shell with ease
And now I can have another collection of moments with you
Your personality
Your truth
And you are truth.
For a year I thought you were gone and that the next
Moment I saw you, you'd be descending into a grave
You would be gone and only accessible through memories
Your truth
Your personality
And you are personality.
It pained me every time I saw you, thinking I wouldn't see
It and how you walked and how you cried for water when
You needed it. I'd trip over you, and trample you, but you
You are truth
You are personality
You're here today, eternally in my heart
You're here tomorrow, and when we are apart
A year down the road, and a plethora more
You'll be in my heart forevermore
The part of me that you bring out will never exist again on this earth
And your white scarf will never be seen by my brown eyes
But I can hold you here
Right here in my heart
And you can pur
And I can contemplate when you'll bump my head again
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 10:33 PM 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
One fine morning
on my way to work
I met a real dinosaur
in big boots and a mischievous smirk
I’m kinda lonely he said
just visiting this town
I don’t have any friends
and thats bringing me kinda down
He looked kinda sad
with his tiny Dino eyes
I’d have to call in late
and explain it to the office guys
First we went out for ice cream
then we played a video game
He cracked a lot of dinosaur jokes
which were all kinda lame
When he would laugh
his mouth would open wide
Which sorta kinda scared me
and made me want to hide
His Dino tail would wiggle
and his laces would always come loose
It was funny trying to watch him
tie up his dinosaur shoes
Then we went to Iceland
and all the rides were cool
It was really spectacular seeing a dinosaur
floating in the swimming pool
Then we were really hungry
and we went out to dine
He scared all the waiters and waitresses
and drank up all the wine
I climbed up on his back
and he went for a run
Omigosh this day was perfect
I was having so much fun
Everywhere we walked
people screamed and ran
at the big stomping dinosaur
causing all the traffic jams
If only they would listen
If only they could see
Mr. Dinosaur is just a nice guy
just like you and me
Our perfect day was over
Dino had to go back home
probably back to Jurassic Park
and left me here alone
Next morning at work was a ******
such a tiresome bore
I just wanted to leave the office
and run out the office door
When the clock stuck five
I finally decided to leave
I left my dull office
and Lo & behold I just could not believe
Standing before me
in front of my very eyes
stood my dinosaur buddy
what a nice surprise!
We talked and talked for hours
even after dark
and when the day was over
I decided to move in to Jurassic Park
Now we’re never lonely
Dinosaur and me
Dinosaur has a friend
and I have family
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 4:17 AM UTC
His hand on my shoulder
My head on his chest
The heartbeat in my ear
Racing along with his breath
Closing my eyes
Taking in his intoxicating scent
I could fall asleep here
While he caresses my neck
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
It started out looking good
cause we both saw the sparks.
We were inseparable.
You stole my heart.
I stole yours too,
I was in love with you.
And I still am
but your feelings have changed.
Maybe to you it was just a fun game.
You played with my heart
when you loved someone else.
Now I am eternally scarred
and seeing you doesn't help.
It makes my wound open
right after it's closed.
Are you oblivious to my hurt,
or is your heart just cold.
You make me feel unwanted
I don't know what to do.
I hate how I can't
stop loving you.
And day after day, it is always the same.
I forgive you again, and again, and again.
When you have no one else, we are buddy buddy.
You laugh at my jokes and tell me I'm funny.
When you're with another friend
it's like I don't exist.
I keep drowning deeper,
I feel so helpless.
You make me feel unwanted
and I feel so alone.
You're the reason I crawl into a corner
and cry at home.
Yet I can't help myself,
I keep going back .
As soon as I feel happy,
you decide to attack.
I wish I would learn my lesson,
wish I could just forget.
I wish you didn't make me
do things I regret.
I hate feeling unwanted
I'm so self-conscious now.
I don't know when someone wants me around.
This feeling of being unwanted
it has become too real.
It has become so normal
I wish I didn't know how to feel.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 8:51 PM UTC
The music may have died for some
That day in nineteen fifty nine
Don McLean said that it ended
But I say, it's just fine
The day that Buddy died
I feel it only took a wound
and though it has been 60 years
I think it's been re-tuned
If silence reigned when the music died
The Beatles would be missing
They picked their name for Buddy's group
An act that had some hissing
The Rolling Stones...would never play
If the music died as told
There would be no Exile on Main Street
There would be no band so bold
The Hollies, well that's simple
They were named after the man
If the music had really died that day
Would Graham Nash still be a fan?
To me it took a major wound
A shot that slowed it down
It changed music's direction
Took it to another town
With Elvis silent on German soil
The Beatles took the lead
They made sure music was living
And many others did they breed
Bobby Darin, Mama Cass
Jimi Hendrix and The Pearl
Jim Morrison and Brian Jones
Made the music spin and twirl
When Elvis Died, it slowed a bit
With Lennon shot...some more
But, the music never, ever died
For those who're keeping score
For each one lost...another comes
To fill the void with sound
It may have been quite wounded
But the music's still around
Each generation keeps it
In it's own and special way
That's why Buddy's music
Is still played on air today
So, please don't think the music
Died way back in fifty nine
Just look at all who've come on since
All your favorites and all mine.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC