Gone Girl

I can feel your fingers
slipping away from mine.
Like the grains of sand
that escape from my grip
No matter how hard I hold.

I can  see your thoughts
of me that once
lived in your heart now
spilling onto the floor
and dying in the sunlight.

I feel you dropping
my heart on the ground.
Watching it shatter like
a crystal glass.

I can feel the approaching
afterlife without you.
Whispering a tiny comfort
In the cold breezes of loss.

Promising me
that one day
love will call again

It is hard to say father;
the thought of you stumbles through me when I see
a Gerber baby food jar or a wooden pop crate.
Once you came to mind when I saw a Polish flag
on TV; that is humorous because
the only Pole I know is a pale man at the gym
whose left eye is shaped like a rotten pear.
Do you still burn your fingers when you
fall asleep smoking in a recliner?  I hope
you still do not trim your fingernails while
sitting on the toilet stool; that seems so un-American.
Today is your eighty-fourth birthday;
I hope wherever you are you do not think of me.

I'm just gonna bury myself in a black fog tonight cause your light escaped me and liquor sounds lovely since you obviously don't give a **** about me anyway.

Dolefully trudge to my chamber this night.
Carrying burden of this inimical plight.
Scrawling as a means to drop this weight light.
But alas, who will read these words that I write?

I named myself after the sweet moment
I saw you fall in love with innocence.
I became something more of a poet
In hopes that you'd notice my attempts at
Intimacy.
I've devoted my title to the memory
Of you and me and the green water
Spring, bringing new life into being;
A gift unto me.
You wrought my art with a silver lining
Brought forth by my slurred wording
I was never worth dirt until the the day that
You refined me.
Tonight, though, Lilith has eclipsed our
Perceptions are limited by shadows I
Sense the time of reckoning upon us, though,
Thou shalt not change.
My goddess visited you in a nightmare
Still, I crave the taste of your blood
Fair warning, that with you harm my come,
So life's not fair.
It is time to bear witness to the
Grander scheme of things, that
Not everything you've always wanted
Is always meant to be.

If you refuse
To be a drop
You can't become
A deep sea
Also,
If you aren't lost
You won't be found

A Little Bloom of Moonlight
By
Jude Kyrie

Within the pristine stillness
Lies the soft velvet of night.
A sad moon peers down
Knowing all that has been.

A night bird sings his song
Softly with the pathos
Of a thousand years

Trees silhouette
in the moonlight
Reaching to the night sky
From their rooted life.

In the hedgerow
a white abundance
of tangled clematis
shine under its light.

The night world blooms
As the dust of sleep falls
into children's eyes.

There are no ****** Rottweilers tethered to steel poles
outside  basement taverns.

No emaciated men  picking **** mites
on  their  faces or  women staring
blankly into the fog of their day.

Not a bad smell, a dead bird on a lawn,
an old person wearing a sweater too tight
or a poor kid with a cleft palate; not in Euphoria.

Internet *******
Some things you get for free
With hints of bums and holes
And bunches of lovely language

A mental spelunker
I am mad when I see people
Inflexible in matters of casual lust
Who blink back in boredom