Thursday, 27 February 2014

You Are That friend



A friend is like a flower,
Good to look at,
Good to be with,
Good to smell,
Good to move around with,
Improves your appearance,
And adds you a fragrance,
Makes you smell good.

A friend is someone you trust,
Someone you can tell secrets,
And listen to theirs too,
And a friend tells you,
Secrets of others too.

A friend is like a shadow,
Follows you back and forth,
Gets closer as the sun goes higher
Sometimes walks ahead of you.
Guiding you,
As you guide them.

A friend is like a radio,
Keeps you company,
Sets your ears to task,
For soothing songs when depressed.

A friend is like your favourite cloth,
Not only covers your privacy,
But also makes you stand out,
Improves your outward image,
And gives you confidence.

But,

My best friend is not like a flower,
A flower dries,
And loses beauty when it dries,
No one wants it back,
My best friend is more than a flower,
My best friend is always there,
My best friend will never fade.

I have  no secrets to share with my best friend,
Because my best friend is my confidant,
And whatever we talk is between us,
So nothing is secret between us.

My best friend is not like a shadow,
Because it only accompanies me in light moments,
But dissolves in when the going gets tough,
A shadow diverts my attention from the light,
My best friend shows me the way of light.

My best friend is not like a radio,
That I only listen to it,
But it never listens to me,
A radio leaves me in a blackout,
In dark greasy moments,
When I need comfort most.
My best friend is a good listener,
And stands by me,
Whatever the storms.
In light and moments not so light.

My best friend is not like a cloth,
That gets dirty and I have to wash,
That gets carried by the wind,
And leaves me exposed,
That gets worn out and out dated.
My best friend is part of me,
Knows how I feel,
Even when I try to hide,
When I wash off my mistakes
We are washed together.
You are that best friend of mine.
And will always be.

Wednesday, 26 February 2014

Prisoned Love



My Love,
have you ever seen the dew fall?
No, I know,
Then, I do say to you,
That my passion for you,
You shall not see it fall,
That means it won’t fall.

My Love,
For whom my heart rings,
With the watch birds at the wake of dawn.
My Love,
Whose skin soft as her voice,
Straight from a fairy tale,
Covers me with cuddles so hot,
That my Mum’s cuddles fade.

My Love,
I know you know that my conscience
White as snow,
My love for you; priceless as a pearl,
I will wait for you,
In the streets, both cold and hot

I will wait, my Love,
Till I see the iron gates,
That bar you from gasping the fresh air,
And feeling the breeze so soothing,
Open and let you out,
So you can fly into my arms,
I will wait, my Love.


Saturday, 22 February 2014

Dear Lord



Dear Lord,
I know you can see me,
That means you can read this.
I’d have called it a plea
But I’m time conscious
Let me call it an emergency
So give me the first priority.

Dear Lord,
Don’t take this as a request,
It is much of a conquest.
I’d have imagined to flee
But at times I am courageous
Let me call it a tragedy;
Just that the minors never won.

Dear Lord,
Don’t slip to slumber,
It’s too early.
I’d have avoided beating the bush
And into your head a nail I’d push
But my nature is one;
Beating around the bush is fine.

Dear Lord,
My neighbor two houses down,
We reside the same street in town,
My neighbor has a daughter,
Her size would qualify a floater,
She eats more than she can,
And there is nothing she can’t have.

Dear Lord,
My neighbor has a wife,
Has a shape; you’d think a bottle of wine.
But Lord, I never take wine,
For not so kind is the price,
Though I was always told
For free, it was made by your son.

Dear Lord,
Pardon me, for I was talking of the wife,
When I erred to the wine,
So the wife is such a spender,
A magnet to splendou,
Not a single day I can remember,
She ever lost her swank, I wonder.

Dear Lord,
I have to take a sip,
For my tongue threatens to slip.
The wife had large bags,
Her hand carried a larger hand bag,
The other hand a purse nay, a clutch bag
Her body wore an expensive rag.

Dear Lord,
I think I should cut this short,
For my monologue seems to bore.
My house on the contrary,
Is like a quarry,
I have a  son so naughty,
A son I wish I never had.

Dear Lord,
This is a cry
For my sorrows that fly high.
My son is a thin, than a pin
And he’s restless
In sight of many a females.

Dear Lord,
As I speak now my sole son
Sulks behind bars.
For spraying many an aimless seed. Aha!
And now I am a multiple grandpa.
I have no means for those kids,
For my wealth isn’t the size of a giant.

Dear Lord,
Let me not talk of my wife,
For I will break into a cry.
But her name is Tabu, you know
She has a window between her teeth, you know
She is a walking plague, you know
[I hear you made ten]

Dear Lord,
My wife Tabu is a bartender,
With a body slender, a smile so tender
She shows up at dawn
Very tired, literally torn
Her body used up  like the door handle
By the great that she opts not to handle.

Dear Lord
Just be in my shoes for a minute,
And you will forget the taste of fillet.
You’d cry to see my wife’s smile
Knowing that men fight for that smile,
Lord, I think that isn’t kind
Take his family, or take mine.

Dear Lord,
I heart in the days of Old,
A Decalogue was told,
Thou shall not kill
But the pain I feel
I’d opt for Heaven or Hell,
for the food given free.

Dear Lord,
Give me the last chance
As to Abraham you did give
I descend from his line, or so I hear
And my neighbor too, clear?
And I don’t mind having his faith
But, pardon my wrath, wait.
I’m done, Lord, we’ll talk when we meet.
But,
Allow me to say adieu,
Goodbye for now Lord.