View Full Version : Friends I Have Gathered...

01-11-2016, 11:49 PM
Don't know why I am revisiting some of these. I don't know why I wrote poems about friends. These aren't poems, not really. The 80s were so weird.


Judy, Judy,
mother of pearl,
your skin so sheer
I could trace it
on paper to disappear.
Jump up, baby Judy,
remember our song?
I wonder
where you are tonight,
listening to melodies
Modern English
brings you the world
in its golden cup,
and simple the minds
that hold you enthralled.
you sexy Marilyn
with your pithy black dress
swaying to the light
you exhaled in song.
Did the other boys
sleep in your closet,
surrounded by the scent
of your heavenly lust?
stretch themselves out
in your mountain of shoes
and disappear into night
with the sound
of your lingering dreams
keeping them warm?
Judy, Jud-I,
I teased you too much,
made laughter of your limbs
as they struggled to rhyme
to the beat of the dance
in your opening mind.
You fed me with light,
Judy, Jud-I,
one burst to keep me
perched in your tree,
staring at starglow
in orbit around you,
wonderful laughter
like the clink of a glass,
and like a fool
you gave me
your wandering heart.
I was lost to your wonder,
watching that dress
as it took to the skies,
I forgot the soul reaching
behind those blue eyes.
Asleep at your feet
and throbbing with light,
I was dazzled by cobalt,
and mother of pearl.
I can trace you on paper
and watch as you vanish
in a night filled with starlight
and shimmering glow.
Judy, Jud-I,
where did you go?


Does dawn still gather
around you, Adrian?
You slithered like demons,
swanked your body
in defense of your wings,
and I remember too
your clanking feet,
so cocksure they could lift you,
bring you the night.
staring at your twisted limbs
I thought you would die,
but laughter still took me
beyond the beyond.
Coke machine crush,
that’s what we called it
as you lay there still,
holding your breath.
moments before,
trumping the wind,
you flew like a demon
and flaunted your limbs.
Naked, you danced
amid all those gathered,
shared with them laughter,
as you took to the night,
glistened in sweat
from the heat of your dance.
And Jackie, how she wanted
to steel the night,
make rigid her body
and take you inside.
Her heart could not bend
to the evil within,
that slithering demon
under your skin.
Pretty the touch
of your withering skin,
she shivered in spinning
to your heavenly spin.
Time stopped as you tumbled,
brought back to earth,
and broken, you stumbled
and shattered, you fell.
Arc of the dance
brought you to ground,
my laughter, so mean,
how it marked me insane,
as shattered you lay there
whispering blood.
Coke machine crush
and sirens in shriek,
promised to lift you
from the broken night scene.
And naked, you lay,
waiting escape,
mumbling your madness
to demons in flight.
And Jackie moved closer,
to linger in skin
sheening with anger
and steel to the touch.
My laughter, your echo,
as I plucked at your demons,
made light of your cocksure feet
as they stumbled to earth
and melted
your sugary limbs.
And still,
with all that was said
between us, I wonder,
does the dawn still gather
at the sound of your skin?


I can reach inside you,
and pull out your heart,
watch as it shimmers
and leaves you your life.
You, the unnamed,
I will give you your death,
shake you from mountains
and watch as you fade.
Nothing more to me
than a blip on the screen,
I marked you for dying
as you wasted away.
You, the out-there-still,
breathing your death
as your anger it seethes,
I can erase you
with the blink of an eye,
make you unreal
by the will of my might.
You, I will dangle
at the ends of the earth,
tarnish your pulpit
and take from you light.
In your room
you were demons,
gathered in song,
taking my bloodflow
and sucking me blind.
Oh, you sweet young things,
the Hurting trilling my ears,
and you, giving me mine,
the pale shelter
I could see through,
and twist in my mind.
with my hand inside
I could pull out your lungs,
huff the white magic
with my eager new shine.
You, the unnamed,
where are you now?
I would give you your death
and make you divine.


And Mike, I made of you Trig,
made you the wild,
I was solemn
when swallowing the sand
that you gave me,
a grain from each place
our feet ever took us as two.
Nobody knows, still,
that we hitchhiked Regina,
You angered that woman
by saying Vagina.
“Vagina, vagina, vagina,”
she called you insane
and soon we were walking,
counting crows and cornstalks
as day turned to night.
Crop circles, we created,
when darkness did find us,
like aliens, we were,
dancing in madness
in the light of a moon
made only to witness
our awkward left feet.
Your mother, Mrs. Crazy,
how lovely in swill,
“Don’t come home tonight, my pretty,”
your red red skin
as her boob fell limp
in the pale blue light.
As Trig I did kill you,
but only pretend,
I wrote you the jumper
and the ghost in act three.
You understand,
it had to be you,
the one who still lives
who gets killed by me.
You lied about the sand, though,
the grains are all gone,
I believed what you said
about grains pulling me home,
back to the places we haunted in two,
I was never called back,
never enticed,
I sit here and wonder
what the sand’s doing now,
inside my belly
and inside of you.
Remember Bouctouche,
where we wasted away,
longing for freedom
from the ghosts of the road?
The sand there all grey,
and sober with wisdom
and wasting away.
Montreal, on the outskirts,
at the end of the day,
eating the dirt we walked through
to prove we were there.
Detroit. Did we really do Detroit
and Buffalo by only our thumbs?
Is the memory real
or something I dreamed.
I could sift through the dirt
in the pit of my mind,
and discover our path,
but with time at my heels
I no longer trust me
to remember the places
we discovered by two.
You are Trig now,
and dead in your tracks,
wherever you wander
you’ll remember my name,
if not for the face that it conjures,
than for the river
we swallowed
to wash down the sand.
I made you the wild,
you made me the sea.

01-12-2016, 12:05 AM
tonight i am blind,
eyes plucked
from my emptying skull.
i could sit,
if i wanted,
and list you all,
one by one,
but what would that do,
what would that do?
the sign of times fading,
ghosts lingering closer
to darkness.
one by one,
fading to black,
a memory no longer
holding on to the things
that came and went
no longer seeing
one by one.
Jackie, in the clearing
we called Hell,
the ceremony of head-shaving,
your hair dancing
a pirouette around us,
the taste of burgundy
forever branding you
into my life.
Marc, with your short legs,
short life, how you linger,
hair like a raven mid-flight,
leaving. shiny your heart.
Annie, my lovely,
my pretty white snow,
with your fingernail spoon
and your swoon, your swoon,
how you lifted me, pressed
your face to the moon
and inhaled my flight.
i danced with the slap
of your tambourine on my thigh,
you riding high in your kitchen
on your tiny trampoline.
you can shake me still,
my pretty little annie
with your chipmunk smile.
Tommy, no mention,
past the lingering hole,
but your laughter,
how open. like a song
with a knife.
Kelly, your scream,
“Boogie” in the night,
jasmine breath,
tangerine hair. you’re still
that little girl on the bus,
the lintel for my falling.
You, Ally, will keep me there,
and here, among the ghosts
in the air. hovering. taking wing
from my palms…lifting like shallow
swans in hope of flight.
blind, i still see you,
one by one,
lingering still.

01-12-2016, 08:58 PM
I like personal poems for people. I have a collection of poems for friends also. (as you know). :)

01-12-2016, 09:32 PM
have never written a poem for a friend, only for family. Really enjoyed these KYC.