To dead men and absent there are no friends left.
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Our Absent Friends
We often speak about
the fun we used to have
whenever we retrace our memories,
remembering our absent friends.
We remember our growing years,
the smiles on our faces
and the funny things we did
with our absent friends.
As the years roll on their way
and age creeps up on us
we sometimes like to reflect
on our long gone absent friends.
The flower of youth has withered,
but the flower never died.
It is still locked in our memory
when we remember our absent friends.
1 July 2012
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Absent Friends
As a year closes,
we always stop for a moment
to remember absent and departed friends.
We raise a glass
and tip our hat
in remembering absent and departed friends.
Life’s highway is a short one
and somewhere it comes to an end,
but friends are not forgotten
they live on in our memory.
And once a year we remember
before the New Year starts
our absent and departed friends.
21 June 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He who looks on a true friend looks, as it were, upon a kind of image of himself: wherefore friends, though absent, are still present; though in poverty, they are rich; though weak, yet in the enjoyment of health; and, what is still more difficult to assert, though dead, they are alive.
All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Empty Niche
A KING once made a gallery of art,
With portraits of dead friends and living graced;
And at the end, 'neath curtains drawn apart,
An empty marble pedestal was placed.
Here, every day, the king would come, and pace
With eyes well-pleased along the statued hall;
But, ere he left, he turned with saddened face,
And mused before the curtained pedestal.
And once a courtier asked him why he kept
The shadowed niche to fill his heart with dole;
'For absent friends,' the monarch said, and wept;
'There still must be one absent to the soul.'
And this is true of all the hearts that beat;
Though days be soft and summer pathways fair,
Be sure, while joyous glances round us meet,
The curtained crypt and vacant plinth are there.
To-day we stand before our draped recess:
There is none absent—all we love are here;
To-morrow's hands the opening curtains press,
And lo, the pallid pediment is bare!
The cold affection that plain duty breeds
May see its union severed, and approve;
But when our bond is touched, it throbs and bleeds—
We pay no meed of duty, but of love.
As creeping tendrils shudder from the stone,
The vines of love avoid the frigid heart;
The work men do is not their test alone,
The love they win is far the better chart.
They say the citron-tree will never thrive
Transplanted from the soil where it matured;
Ah, would 'twere so that men could only live
Through working on where they had love secured!
'The People of the Book,' men called the Jews—
Our priests are truly ' People of the Word; '
And he who serves the Master must not choose—
He renders feudal service to the Lord.
But we who love and lose will, like the king,
Still keep the alcove empty in the hall,
And hope, firm-hearted, that some day will bring
Our absent one to fill his pedestal.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Absent From Routine
Absent but not of mind.
Too protective of precious consciousness,
Peace of mind and happiness.
Absent from nonsense.
Professed and not guessed.
And not seeking any to find.
To torment like the rest.
Absent from routine,
And thoughts of wasting time.
Absent from props used for chaos.
And those creating it to market!
As if this is a goldmine.
And the grease of sleaze,
Is there to slop it not stop it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Friends As Lovers, Lovers As Friends
new york wasn't mine
was it me, or just my kind
spinning softly, talking cheap
theres no place left to be
but a road that just goes on
to everyone leaving town
friends as lovers
lovers as friends
shall we dance into the night
as the jukebox moans and pours out time
friends and lovers
lovers and friends
theres no place left to be
than wrapped around your eyes
and every passing town
or stay as lovers
or stay as friends
theres no prayers
for dashboard light
flagging goals
you're missing sides
'cause they say you are the one
and theres no place left to be
than where you stand right now
i know these leaving town
us as lovers
lovers as friends
to your face
to speak alone
to your back
among the proud
we're friends with lovers
lovers with friends
and theres no place left to be
that can keep me away from you
on every passing train
i see lovers
i see friends
darling boy
youre on my mind, she says
i feel your skin
as if its mine
this pain it sweet
too sweet to touch
and theres no place left to be
in the shadow of your lives
in everyone leaving town
friends as lovers
lovers as friends
and theres no place left to be
than where you are right now
beside us leaving town
i'm your lover
i'm your friend
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Friend 4 Sale
The sun set in the west this mornin'
4 I know, I know L.A. is callin'
Bad news, Steve said, and people are talkin'
They say your kingdom is fallin', yeah
They say U lost your fire
When another musician U hired
Little do they know, U wouldn't have passed go
Unless they could take U higher, yeah
The sun set in my heart this afternoon
4 2 friends of mine got stuck in the snow
In Uptown when winter's alarmin', oh
Cocaine becomes charmin'
But U talk about things U don't know 'bout
I know, no matter how pleasant your past was
Green and white return 2 blue
U're happy as long as your last buzz
And then U think U want something new, yeah
The sun, the sun set in my mind this evening
4 someone who said they would die 4 me
Sold some, they sold some more pictures and all my little memories
Chump change is 2 unravel the mystery, ah ha
But life is no fun, life ain't no fun without fantasy
Some things are better left unsaid
And some people are better left untrusted
Maybe, maybe, maybe it'll all make sense when I'm dead
When I'm dead
Old friends 4 sale
Get'em while the gettin' is hot
Watch out, they'll kiss U until they get what U got
And they'll show U the friends that they're not
Old friends 4 sale
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Soldier
Home furthest off grows dearer from the way;
And when the army in the Indias lay
Friends' letters coming from his native place
Were like old neighbours with their country face.
And every opportunity that came
Opened the sheet to gaze upon the name
Of that loved village where he left his sheep
For more contented peaceful folk to keep;
And friendly faces absent many a year
Would from such letters in his mind appear.
And when his pockets, chafing through the case,
Wore it quite out ere others took the place,
Right loath to be of company bereft
He kept the fragments while a bit was left.
poem by John Clare
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Departed
The house lies empty
Hovering on edges of my senses
The faint trace your scent
As if you have just slipped out the room
Soon to return.
Pick up where you left off.
The shelves are powdered with dust
Grey as my thoughts.
The room lies cold, barren,
Dead, for your spirit is absent.
A book lies open where you left it
The story stalled never to be finished
But yours has ended.
And I, I still have mine to finish.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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The Long Division
Did somebody try to catch your eye
And almost change your sad expression?
Did somebodys hand linger too long?
Must I now make my confession?
But youll never know
What suspicion is
Until you lie awake
And every night you ask yourself
What am I to do?
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
Theres nothing left over
Hows it gonna feel? this time its real
Its not a temporary fracture
This is what you get, the stage is set
For you and your attempted rapture
Is he gonna smile
That indulgent smile
When you come running home?
And every night you ask yourself,
What am I to do?
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
Theres nothing left over
What am I gonna say? you turn away
And you leave me here despairing
What am I going to do? I look at you
You seem to be so long past caring
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Only to find out now that its a joke
So ask yourself,
What am I to do?
Can it be so hard to calculate?
When three goes into two
Theres nothing left over
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
Did somebody say,
Can we still be friends?
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Cannot Save The Dead
WE CANNOT SAVE THE DEAD
We cannot save the dead,
Though we perfect our forms of remembrance-
The dead are the dead forever dead-
And we will too one day be among them
Dead forever dead-
Despite the way those left behind strive to remember.
Dead forever dead-
Unless God decide
In some way we cannot understand
That the individual human being
Is as infinitely precious
As those who love them here
know them to be.
-
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All my friends
All my friends,
Ingore me.
All my friends,
HAve abandon me.
All my friends,
Can't forgive me.
All my friends,
Are mad at me.
All my friends,
HAve left me.
All my friends,
Are pissed,
Because I,
Had to go to,
Another school,
For bad behavior,
And they want me back,
But I can't,
Come back,
So they are mad.
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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For Oil Not For Freedom
My heart goes to those who grieve for their war dead in war torn Iraq
Life when it is taken cannot be given back
Those who started this war from Iraq may live far away
But to Karma they do have a huge price to pay
For thousands of deaths in Iraq the pro war media terrorists do blame
But terrorism absent from Iraq before the invaders came
To excuse the war instigators of their crimes this is their way
Though they had started something brutal and ugly that does seem fair to say
Poor Iraqi mothers for their war dead left to grieve
The stories of a pro war media why should they believe
It does not take courage a life for to take
And the legacy of war is death, grief and heart-break
They cannot be brought back to life the Iraqi war dead
For oil not for freedom their blood has been shed
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Alone (Part Two)
I am alone
Alone, alone
Artily alone.
I cry out
For help,
For understanding,
For a friend,
But no one hears.
I go to my death
All alone.
I am alone
In a world
Where I am
Lost to my friends.
It seems I must travel this road
Alone with no one to turn to.
I am alone
In a world
Where my friends
Have left me
To die from
A heavy hart.
I am alone
My friends are not my friends.
There are a few that I can name
They have stayed with me.
As long as they can.
Now that they have left.
I am Qalme Tari Mistress of Death Nat Norville.
Cretics Welcome
poem by Athena Goddess of Wisdom Lumis Light to all
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends.
quote by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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