Let Me Be Your Absent Friend

Last Breath

Funny how sweet you looked
When Death comes calling
And you in your last breath,
Smiled as if dying was great.
Your final gasping sensation
- said it all.
That Death at the driving wheel
Was afterall a very gentleman.
He stopped and open the door
- with ease
Whilst you, in your last breath
Hastily clambered inside,
Like you’ve always done
At Paddington Green station.
Leaving us to unravel later on;
How selfish you have been
To just depart so suddenly.
Many would have said goodbye
But you! you saved your strength
For the unknown journey beyond,
Leaving behind gas bills, water bills,
Electricity bills and other bills
- all unpaid,
Your soul has departed this world,
For your body to remain earthened,
Whilst your stingy and miserly attitude
Was better displayed, by leaving it all
For others to pick up or loose all.
It’s even funnier to note, that
You seemed to have forgotten, that
Like every one of us, you came naked,
With nothing on you. Suprisingly,
You bid in your will like a wily burgher,
That you must depart in style.
Suppose every head is cleanly shaven
And suppose nobody smiles in heaven!
Then, of what need will it be to you,
Those false teeth and a bloody wig.
I must say
That you’ve taught me a great deal,
And I owe you nothing except memories,
Of which from now onwards
I will charge any friend – in advance
For taking their last breath in my arms.
Then I would have no cause to moan
Should they in turn save their final farewell.

Every Woman

Every woman walks her way
Whilst every Man judge their sway
They called it holding the sway
At a time when wiggling sideways
Was most effective for minds to sway

Some take delight in it
Whilst some relish judging by bodily gifts
And how hard blessed it is
For a red blooded Male to critically judge
Who looks right and who looks the clumsiest?

But all agreed that
Most times the clumsiest
Is the most daringly inviting
With all the delicate parts
Clearly accentuated

The Pilgrim

I have sworn to the ways of a Vagabond
And placed myself within the reign of a Pilgrim
I go from here to there and
At best as the heart I seem to please

Like a skillful pilot, I withstand all the storms
That made my way its path
Yet remain forever indebted to my heart
In the hope that one day

My itinerant toil shall surpass its pace
And my heart, walk behind me
With the blinking lights of sunny days
Flashing to my command

Your breath on my brow

Though heavy on my brow,
And blowing away my reality,
Your breath; if I may say,
Is always gentle on my memory.
Its sweetness, I consumed
And its lightness, I still recall.

I wonder how your warm grip
Never strangled my breath,
And how I never did cringe
Nor keep away from the splendor
That your fingertips bring;
Into every plucked path
That you, with your breath,
On my brow, led me through.

So happy is your name,
That I from now must confess
That the memory of your breath
Kept my brow alive and straight.

It led me along like a Child
That’s never learn to walk
So, teach me again to speak
In a language that only you
And no one else could decipher.

Then and maybe I shall
No longer spend my days,
Watching the dance of the Tombs
At sunset.  Maybe I shall
No longer weep over bungled prices;
Those prices of a lifetime
Being consumed by a muddy soil
(One that we us