Five Friendship Sonnets

              Five Friendship Sonnets

 

                 Best at a Distance

Some say that friendship’s realm is nowhere but

Nostalgia.  Love of man for man exists

In regions where the friend is absent, shut

Out, exiled, say, or better dead, subsists

On mourning, loss, and echoes.  Because if

He is actually in the room with you and shares

Your breath, you might run the risk of a whiff

Of male underarm or see the dark hairs

Protruding from his nose.  But of course

The major threat is that if he disagrees

With your pet dreams, he might attempt to force

You to accept the visions that he sees.

   His second sight might overwhelm, dismay.

      A friend has even been known to betray.

 

                   Sad Substitute

 

Those eyes, that mouth reminded me of Glenn,

My friend of forty years ago.  The hair,

Though, wasn’t crinkly thick.  This specimen

Was balding on the top, the strands too spare

And thin to be a substitute for my

Young man of fourteen thousand nights ago.

The Glenn-like span of flesh from neck through thigh

Was strong, and since this new young male was so

Absorbed in scholarship about some slight,

Arcane religious controversy, he

Might just as well have been a Brinsmeadite

Keying in crank laptop notes surreally.

  No, no!  He can’t be Glenn’s latter-day twin.

    He doesn’t have the snaggle-toothy grin.

 

 

                Twenty-five Years On

 

Three hundred “portraits” of Montaigne–no, more–

Exist.  Just one of them includes his friend,

Étienne, whose amitié was the core

Of hermit-like Michel’s love, start and end

Of all that was outstanding in his life.

Montaigne’s philosophy denied the claims

Of other friendship thinkers, lived in strife

With Greeks and Romans.    Lone Michel proclaims

That separation only benefits

Souls forced to be apart.  Divided fates

Are not divided.  Male devotion knits

Men together.  Their unity dictates.

  This logic was of heart and not of head.

     He had to think thus, since his man was dead.

 

    “O mes amis, il n’y a nul ami”

“My friends, there is no friend!” Diogenes

Laertius has Aristotle cry,

Despairing of the chance that theory’s

Demand for one who’s more than ally,

Gives more than scratch his back and he’ll scratch mine

Delight, is more than merely pure, ideal,

Yes, offers more than virtue, nearly divine,

In parallel with yours.  He needs to feel

An absolutely balanced love, as strong

And equal as the one you have for him.

No wonder all the ancients know it’s wrong

To think of Anthony as Caesar’s limb.

  Because of Étienne Montaigne denies

    Philosophers’ lies.  Only he is wise.

 

                     Set Him as a Seal

“I give myself more to my friend than draw

Him to me”—so says old Montaigne, but long

Years after Étienne had died.  The flaw

Is pretty obvious, right?  “Love is strong

As death,” another wise man’s song insists,

But are we all convinced?  He’s in the tomb

For Christ’s sake!  The stench of death persists

No matter how much incense and perfume

We waft around. You can’t exhume the man

To life, embrace him living in your arms.

This isn’t Tinker Bell and Peter Pan,

Or children believing in fairy charms!

  Mais oui,” Michel says,  “I have him best.

      I have his breathing body in my chest.”