My Friends, My Grievance

I

It’s funny the relationships
That we carve out.
My best friend Jack
I’ve known since
I don’t know when,
And we’ve been best friends
Since I was nine
And he was eight -
The year behind in school,
Almost but not just quite.
If you asked me what we talked about
Or what we had in common then,
I couldn’t give the vaguest clue.
But I loved him then,
I love him now;
I hear his voice in all I do,
He passes judgement on all I meet -
A brother,
If a brother was a man
Who always lived within your head,
Whilst also out there in the world;
Who you don’t need to hear or see
To feel his friendship constantly.

II

My other friends
(I have a few):
A girl I was in love with,
But couldn’t have;
Another who I thought I was
Who never knew;
A guy I knew for years and years
And never took the time to talk to,
Until our friendship grew and grew -
Grew while others I once had valued
Faded out or I gave up on
As wastes of time or pointless prattle.

The most recent friend that I have made -
If Jack’s the best friend to the child -
He’s the best friend to the adult.
We’ve not been friends that long, I s’pose,
But the history that I share with Jack,
With him lies all up ahead there,
In the future.

So that’s the list - it’s not exhaustive.
I chose the ones I did
Because
There is a link that ties the few
And privileges them to presence
In this poem:
They’re the ones to whom I feel
I don’t need to say a word.

And now we get
Round to my theme:
I love these guys because
It’s words that really busts my gut.

III

It might be me and me alone
(I’m sure it’s not)
But I’m really not that good with words.
I make them do all kinds of things -
I’m pretty good at that, it’s true;
But not even I,
With all those GCEs, those A levels,
AS too, and a degree,
Can make those fuckers
Mean a thing.

I talk to people; tell them things,
But the trouble is
I can’t believe a word I say.
It all sounds great, I know -
It’s fun to make it sound that way.
Some sounds crude and some sounds fancy;
Some even rhymes and some’s romancy.
But what I fear, and sometimes feel
I know is true,
Is that words can never, never
Be sincere.
I feel that I should warn the people
That I know:
All words are poison,
Not just mine,
Yours are too.

IV

The problem is
That words are really all they give you
To reach out there and know a person,
And that seems tragic
If the same is true of you
As what is true of me.
I’m a simpleton;
My mind’s a blank -
My body is the only
Part of me that’s ever frank.
The ones I value,
The ones I truly love,
They know it deep within their core:
I’m not complicated,
Nor are they.
But that’s not something
Most people like to say.

V

I much prefer your simple side,
Whoever you may be,
And however complicated
You might think you are,
Because I am so simple
I don’t believe a word -
Not one of yours, not one of mine.

So if I could make the world
As I’d like it to be,
I’d flush away complexity
And set the simple free.