A Christmas Carol

the year 35AD

The Romans had crucified him.
But he was just a baby in his mother's arms.
They had gone out to see the spectacle of the man from Judea.
He was to be crucified a horrible death designed to control the people.
It worked there was no worse death known hanging for hours and days
Until the cramp stopped the heart.
He went past them in the crowd
The little boy wept
He stepped and the Roman soldier flogged his naked boy.
But as he got up just before the hill at Calvary
He stopped and dropped the heavy wooden cross
He kissed the baby on his head and pulled a sliver of wood from the heavy bloodstained crucifix he carried.
The whip cut his back but he did not flinch.
You are chosen he said.
My father calls your name.
Take this wood and bring his flock to his home.
The mother took the sliver it was bloodstained.
And sewed it into the baby's cloths.
It was in the leather coat she had made for him
And a light glowed from his head like a halo
Your name is love he said
And then they killed him.


2001
New York
Christmas was around the corner just a few days left
But she had no joy no spirit no belief.
She did not want the miracle for her
It was for the little girl.
At three she was dying
not even the Christmas trees lighting would she see.
They were rich full of modern worldly goods
A big house a rich husband
And cars vacation homes.
You are so lucky her friends said.
But she would have given everything away
To save her baby from the ravages of leukemia.
She held her close
the hospital sent her home
It's days they said just days.
She wrapped the little girl in a soft warm blanket.
And tucked her into the stroller.
Her husband held her arm tight for her support.
They walked to the lighting of the Christmas tree.
Looking for a bright moment to show their child
Before she slipped away from them into oblivion.
They were agnostics non believers of any religion.
Just a cheap way to control the masses said her husband.
She noticed in agreement.
What kind of god allows a beautiful baby to die.
At the center the tree was decorated
But not yet lit.
A boys choir were humming softly
Oh! Holy night it was beautiful.
A young boy his voice still unbroken sang beautifully
In a soprano voice that would pass into oblivion
the next year just like her little girl.
Then she felt someone push against her
It was a very old man.
He looked poor and lost.
She felt in her purse and gave him a hundred dollar bill.
Eat something this Christmas
she said kindly not knowing why.
He pulled a little leather coat
from under his ragged overcoat.
Place this on the child she needs his warmth.
The first snowflakes dropped from heaven
Perhaps to welcome her child to heavens doors.
Seeing no harm she put the coat on her baby.
She saw the child smile her cheeks flushed pink.
She held her arms out
But it was to the old man
He kissed her head?
What is your name
she asked the old man
is Abraham my lady
Abraham Love.
The lights exploded in a mirage of colors.

Fifteen years later she walked to the soup kitchen
The poor were congregated to escape the cold of the new York winter
A poor homeless lady held her baby in her arms she was crying
What's the matter honey the pretty young  girl said
It's my daughter she is dying.
Her heart is not working
and she will be dead by Christmas.
The young woman opened
her large carry all purse
And took out a small jacket
Put this on her she said.
It will keep out the winter's chill.
And it did wonders for me as a child I am told.
The woman looked at girl.
Silent night was playing softly and sweetly
from the salvation army brass band.
Who are you ?
what's your name she asked?
I am Jenny Williams ma'am.
But I changed my name to
Jenny Love.

A Manchester Man by Jude Kyrie
(For a sadness beyond grief)

I am Manchester born and Manchester-bred.
I love my city and love my dead.
Its veins are titanium its blood molten steel
Heritage lives here in smokey days.
But we are all one family in every way.

Send us your cowards and misguided creeps.
We will drag their bodies in our cobbled streets.
In cowardly hiding, you **** our offspring
But in god's eyes, their souls will sing

As strong as the history in our brass bands.
We live in the heart of our god's safe hands
So try to quell us like others have tried
And look at the books and see how they died.

I am Manchester born and Manchester-bred.
I love my city and love my dead.


(rest sweetly my children)








Poem by William Blake

I love you Maytime
A short love story
By
Jude Kyrie.

I was sitting on a
central park bench
alone again.
She was gone
my job was gone.
It's ok she never loved me
I thought.
Well perhaps I never loved her either.
I loved the money
hated the job.
so where am I now?

The power job the money
the recognition
The trophy girlfriend.
That's what I wanted
That's what I desired.
Well they had all gone now.
And I felt so ****** alone.

That's when I met
the the crazy lady .
The hippie on steroids.
She said
Hello Maytime.
I said Maytime?
Yes she purred.
wanna be my Maytime?

I need a new project
and you look like
you need saving.
Come back with me
and have a coffee she said.
She was sort of hippie pretty.

I followed her.
What's the harm in a coffee.?
It was a walk up
just on the outskirts
of central park.
It was nice
except for the six puppies
running about the place.
I steal them
from the perfume company labs.
They use them
for experimental purposes
They hurt their eyes.
she explained her crime
in a matter of fact manner.
So I break in and get them.
I save things she said.

I will save you too
if you want.
I---I don't need saving
I explained.
You do so badly
Just look how lost you are.
No job no girl
no love
no happiness.
No scent of a lover on you.
You are lost in the wilderness.

Stay here just for Maytime.
thirty days
I will cure you.
I turned to the door to leave
She was nutty as a fruitcake.
But she swirled me to face her
I saw her inner beauty.
Her eyes were blue as the spring sky.
Her lips soft and curved at the ends
In a smile
that was just bursting to get out.

It was me I think
Yes for sure it was me.
I pulled her close
and kissed her perhaps
too hungry
too greedy
too taking
Too presumptuous.

Slowly she begged
slowly Maytime
Gently be gentle honey.
I left her and ran outside.

She followed me out
into the deluge of night rain.
Don't go she purred
be my sweet Maytime.
She held my hand.
Holding my head
into her soft breast.

I thought she could not see
the tears falling down my face.
But she knew...she knew
they were there.

I followed her back
into the apartment.
She took me to her bed.
I was quiet and gentle
Just like she asked of me
Just like I wanted to be
Somewhere deep inside myself.

I said stupid things to her.
That a man like me never says.

Like you are so beautiful
I need you
I need you so much
You are an angel
help me please.
help me find me.

I reached for her so gently
Our lips finding electricity
when they almost
but not quite touched.
Igniting sparks in me that
I had never felt.before.

She took off my shirt
I was hers all of hers.
She kissed away my my tears
don't stop them
let them out she whispered.
Let them all go honey.
And she made love to me.

I was found
at last this was the me
I had been lost
for so long
in the wilderness of
New York City life.
I slept deeply
and peacefully
for the first time
In years.
I lay in her arms all night.
On waking I whispered
I am falling in love with you.
I felt her stiffen in our embrace.

Don't ever say that Maytime.
Never say that that again
Or I Will end us early.
I knew she meant it.

I got a phone call
my boss offered me
my old job back.
She said
if you take it we are over
It's what you hate doing.
I turned it down
and lay in homage of her.

May went by
A day at time unnoticed.
I felt all I could not say
I was in love.
Hopelessly in love with her.

Then I took the puppies for a walk!
When I got back
she was being sick real badly.
I held her close
and she was crying
in the middle of the day.
Hush hush honey
it's ok
I will make it ok
I promised.
But I couldn't.

She was very sick
She had always been sick.
This saving thing
was her redemption.

She said are you cured maytime
it's only the twenty fifth of May.
I said yes sweetheart
I am cured.
I have been cured
since the first day of May.

When she left me
It was the last day of May.
I was out finding forever homes
for Brahms and Liszt
Two of her puppies.

She left a note for me
by her bed
on the night table.
She wrote
I always loved you
sweet Maytime.
Always.

I got back to work last week
It's not much of a job
The pay is lousy
The hours are long.
But I help people
at the homeless shelter.
And funnily enough
I really love the work.

The news that you wrote to me
has my heart singing with joy my love.
You will be home for the Christmas season
Love songs are playing
on the strings of my heart.
she wrote in her lovely handwriting
The notepaper perfumed with gardenia
her favorite.
little crosses signified her kisses.
He read the letter again and again
it was in in the pocket of his army fatigues
her perfume sweet full of memories
as he held it to his face
And breathed her with him.
in the arid terrain of the desert.

I cannot wait only a week
before you return my love
I feel your fingers touching my heart
telling it you will care for it love it
keep it safe
I am so in love with you
so in love
she wrote

The old lady opened her souvenir box
and picked up the folder of his letters
wrapped in a blue ribbon.
she read them as always
in the sequence
that he wrote them to her

somehow it felt as if
he was still on duty
far away like so long ago
His handwriting
so nice to see again
his words as sweet
as the day she first read them
He never did make it home
that Christmas.

choices

I know we are too young.
I know we have no home.
How did it get to this?
I think of her as young women.
I hear her whisper.
I love you Daddy.
I see her getting married
dressed in white.
Me older and
a wistful tear falling.
I wait in the car park
of the clinic
you appear out
of the double doors.
Pale and older
your eyes red.
This was to solve
all our problem's.
But the grief hits me
like never before.
and I know this problem
will never leave my heart.

I have a fear
that one day
you see the real me.
Made of tender flesh
and brittle bones.
And you will leave
me for another.
Who is made of  muscle
and solid structure.

She found him outside her small flat
he was in the bloom of the old lamplight.
she noticed the grey flecks in his beautiful eyes.
Hi!
he whispered softly like honey falling from a spoon.
She flashed her prettiest smile
And tossed her hair back like she used to.
You look as beautiful as I remember.
She looked at him for some small signal of remorse
but she could not see it.
He wanted her
she felt his need even in the cold night air.
There’s a hole in my existence he said.
His mouth almost smiling.
The smile that had her undress
for him a thousand times.
Why me?
I was never enough before she retorted.
Wanting to hurt him as badly as he had hurt her.
I did not know I loved you
until you were not there he said.
A sadness glowed in his eyes.
And if you remember
it was you that left me.
Why did you leave? He asked
Because you never asked me to stay
she said quietly.
I am asking now he  answered.
She let him into her flat
They undressed and made love.
When she awoke she heard
the click of her door as he left her.
She knew her heart would ache
Just as it had before.
And she knew he would be back again.
And she would let him in once more.

Springtime barges
through winter’s doorway.
Demanding power
to break its icy grip.

All about the forest
and woodlands colorful
wild flowers grow alongside
crocus and snowdrops
and bluebell.

The rushing
of daffodils and tulips
Shouting from the below the
warming earth impatient
to see the new sunlight.

Suddenly the house is filled
with new seasons fresh air
through open wide windows
and the cleaning away
of winters carnage.

*****-willows fight
the covers of their buds.
Weeping in joy
at the new beauty.

In the fields
lambs seek sustenance
from their mothers.
Confirming the rebirth
of all god’s creatures.

April is heard calling
just hours away
As march leaves us.
Handing its work to
The next months
gentler hands.

Even the most
frozen hearts
Are melted
by the joys of
The new spring.

The stone mason

*he was old now
his hands unsteady.
The eyesight fading.
in winter he worked
inside his barn.
it could let the rheumatic
cool down to let him work
for an hour or more.
His grandfather had
apprenticed his father.
and he had apprenticed him.
and now his son was apprenticed.
The tools were the same.
no room for technology
Here only artisan skill.
The polished marble slab
was taking shape.
a headstone that
would stand proudly
in the cemetery.
like many of his others
that he had made
in over fifty years of his life.
it was almost finished
possibly the best work
he had ever done.
the N was the final letter
he tapped it with the iron
rounded chisel.
just hard enough
to create a perfect slant
in the marble.
her name a thing of beauty
EMMA BROWN
His wife
he was careful to leave
space for his own name
below hers
his son would chisel that
when his time was called.
rubbing the marble to a high gloss
he whispered
see you soon my love.

I am grieving for the blueness
of the summer clear skies.
Soaring over
the snow capped
mountain peaks.
The graceful.gliding of eagles
On unlimited thermals
Free and wild
Like I once was.
Before chains of duty
And demands of others
Broke my wings

We have drifted to a place beyond passion
Or sentimentality it is an oasis where
We drink from pools of longing and contentment.
Far away from the arid emotions of an uncaring earth.

Let me gift to you the gardens of fragrant flowers
That proliferate this magical sainted world.
Let me bury my heart beneath the snows.
Awaiting a sunlit springtime
Where it will bloom only for you.

Hold me, my love, let me shield you
from the rains of sorrow.
Take my summer light and find your way
In the icy darkness of winters wrath.

Carve our epitaphs in the stones.
That have survived the ravages of lost eons.
Write of our love of our contentment
and our passions
let our story stay here forever
so  that it will tell us to
others who take this perilous journey
In time immortal that waits for them.

The fragrance of Jasmine
is sweet in the air.
And we shall be friends
this magic night and I.
This perfumed dampness
of a lovers hair.
We shall mingle as one
this night and my soul.
If the nectar of heaven
filled my cup
and I drank
its heady brew quickly
becoming intoxicated
by its flow.
I would still remain
transfixed.
Standing in purest clarity
by my doorway.
Drowning in
the falling blossoms
of this moonglow.
The wildflowers tangled
in its mystic light.
Drenched in the sweetness
of the evening hours

I am exhausted
only being your friend.
its too much work
putting a calm
asexual tone in my voice.
To not look at you
with the lust
that burns in my heart.
I just cant be
only your friend anymore.
I ache to have you wildly.
So wild our words
become inarticulate.
Replaced with
primeval sounds
that originate
in hidden places
within our bodies.
Sounds so sweet they flow
out of us like honey.
leaving me
drained and submissive
with all desire
and need silenced.

They were at that moment of last goodbye.
All day She had dreaded
the movement of the clock.
But she would not show him her sadness.
Tears was not the way for them to say goodbye.
They hugged closely it was so comforting
like always.
Tears welled in her eyes
but she fought them back.
The embrace was prolonged
far too long
for people out of love she thought.
Then as she gazed into his beautiful eyes.
She saw the grey flecks that had melted
her defenses so many times.
They talked endlessly
like new lovers almost as if
the ashes of their love
had raised into flame
and then caught fire once more.
She knew he could see her pain
as they gazed into each others eyes
for the very last time.
Neither one of them wishing to be
the first to pull away.
Then she summoned all of
her inner strength.
And turned softly to walk away.
She could hear the click of his
footsteps on the sidewalk.
her strength was fading
and she turned to see him leaving her.
She almost called out his name
to bring him back.
But the lump in her throat
allowed no sound.
She knew he would not turn around.
This was her last goodbye
and he took it with him
as easily as he took her love.
But he had also taken from her
the biggest piece
of her heart.

Today I am writing
the story of my life.
Each day a page
of unwritten drama.
Between crowing rooster
And dulcet nightingale
A new chapter forms.
It has many undulations.
Full of laughter and tears.
Many love stories.
Scenes of beauty
Others of despair.
Never knowing
What the next
page contains
I wait with anticipation
For the curtain to rise
And fall on each new day
Not knowing
how to end the book.
It becomes longer and longer.
The plot more complex.
Now never sure
If tomorrow is the last page
But I must leave now
Today I am writing
The story of my life.

But I always called her Ma'am

*I remember  like it was yesterday
the first time I met her
I was being punished  for running away
from the orphanage yet again.
I had used up my warnings and this time
I was going to be caned.
I knew the rules 12 strokes on the bare bottom
applied by matron.
I shrieked in agony begging for mercy
but they were all delivered with full purchase
mercy was in short supply in that place.
That’s when the door opened
she had heard my screams in the corridor.
and I saw her for the first time
so beautiful with clear pale blue eyes
she looked so kind. She walked up to me
what have they done to you? She cried.
Put on your pants young man she said.
I did not know how to address a nun
so I called her Ma'am.
She did not seem to mind.
I sobbed I can't ma'am I am too sore.
She hugged me as I sobbed
holding my head to her breast.
Even through her habit
I could feel her softness
like that of the mother
I never knew or held.
The tears flowed and flowed
not just from the pain and shame
of my beating.
But from all the abandonment,
loss, pain and sadness
of my young life.
she said softly cry
let it out tears are gods
safety valve purge the pain.
I cried for twenty minutes.
I was a lifer who adopts 14 year old boys
apparently nobody.
She placed ice packs on my caned bottom.
Then she prayed for the saints to bless me.
She met with me every day caring and kindness.
so lovely her face radiant her heart so kind.
She stopped me from running away again.
We Read great books by important authors.
Learned poetry and discussed its meaning.
It occurred to me she was my only friend.
What I did not know
was I was falling in love with her.
In the foggy corridor that joins
boyhood and manhood.
I was lost and confused.
She took me the mission where the
lost and homeless came and we served free food.
I would have followed her to the moon.
I have never met anyone before or since
so pure and beautiful.
She was relocated three years later
to a mission in Africa.  I was desolate.
I begged to go with her.
I even asked her to marry me
she was gentle to my young heart.
if I was single I would marry you in a heartbeat
she said.
But I am already married to my faith.
Showing me her gold ring
i am a bride of Christ.
She died a few years later
her weekly letter stopped coming.
It was a bad case of malaria
but I know that God needed her in heaven
to light up it's dark corners.
Even now after all this time
long passed the college days
I owed to her.
I know her prayer to the Saints
that she said for me was answered.
I met a beautiful lady at college
we are married with two wonderful children.
At last my own family.
On the holidays we all serve food
at the mission.
When we get home on the portrait wall
at the center of all our pictures
is a black and white framed portrait of
a nun with the most beautiful face.
My daughter ask who is the pretty lady. Daddy.
I say its Sister Angelica honey.
But I always called her Ma'am.

What Women Want
The riddle finally solved
By
Jude Kyrie
She stole my turtle
Pulled my hair in class.
Tripped me in the schoolyard
grazing both my knees.

Ate my stash of Halloween candy
hidden in my locker.
She let the air out of the tires
on my bike so I was late for class.

Copied my math test
and got me an F.

She told my first girlfriend
That I was totally gay
so she would not
go out with me.

I married her last year
For God"s sake.
If that was all she wanted
Why did she not just say so.*


Inspired by the lovely Miss Natalie Wood
Wish me a rainbow
She was always beautiful
Rest Well Milady.
Always Your Fan

Jude

Tyger, tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tyger, tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Today is the day of rest.
The Sunday repose.
But we shall be busy
my lover and I.
We shall cook together
a gourmet meal
of music and romance.
lie outside in the
shade of a linden tree
spread out on blankets
drinking the heady nectar's
ot the summer wine.
We shall eat too much
drink thirstily of the wine.
to fulfill our spirits
need for rebirth and tranquility.
The songs we will sing
to natures soft anthems
will be sweet and gentle.
When we return
Renewed and new
to our home.
The evening shadows
will fold over our
nestled entangled bodies
as we are centered and fulfilled
once more.

Hands

I think back across the ether of time
measured in long ago faded years.
I think of Mom and Dad
and My older sister.
What I miss about
them is their hands.
Hold my hand
as we cross the road said Mom.
Ride your two wheeler
I will hold the seat
with my hand said dad.
Your hairs a mess let me
give you a hand said my sister.

They are all gone now
Just a bunch of
memories in my heart.
Sometimes they come back
in dreams at all kinds of ages.
Just to pay me visit.

I try to remember they are gone
only here in my dreams
but they are mostly so young
I forget that.
And I think
they are still here.
So much so I forget
to say goodbye
and I love you guys.

Sometimes when I wake up
alone in my bed
after the dream has faded.
I feel a tear falling
the moment of loss
is as fresh as the morning.

I then say to them softly
I love you guys so much.
When its my time to join you all.
Mom hold my hand as I cross over.
Dad make sure I learn how to fly
with my new wings
hold me with your hands
so I dont fall.
And Sis give me a hand to
learn the ropes up there.

Between the sun and moon
Were the poems that we shed
Words of love  that fell as snowflakes
But were forever left unread
The night stars were ever crying
At the words we left unsaid
They poured stardust down like teardrops
At all the love we left uhshed.

Today the snow falls softly
Like the feathers
in what was our duvet.
Now it is only mine.

A morning sky grey
as grey as
your new headstone.
The house has found
a louder silence
One that is deafening.

I know you are at peace
Away from awful pain.
But you promised me
a thousand forevers.
a million eternities.

Now in the misty snowfall
of a sad grey winter.
I know your chair
will sit empty.
Your books unread
Your music unplayed
And my heart unfixable

They said she was easy.
But I did not see that.
I loved her I know I did.
At fourteen she was more
of a woman than a girl.
I was fourteen too
My eyes were in awe of her.
The other girls in class
we’re jealous of her beautiful
body now moving to womanhood.
Far faster than theirs were.
Boys in the school looked at her
making up lies about her.
Laughing in knowing fantasy.
At sixteen I was still in love with her
She was now sleeping around.
Using her body like a credit card
to buy all she wanted.
She gave pieces of herself
But never her heart
to boys eager to take them.
At twenty she was jaded and hard.
Unable to see the truth of herself.
That she was beautiful and worthy
of being admired for who she is
Not for the hurt and bruises
of grasping hands.
I was still in love with her.
And asked her out.
But she refused putting me
In the pile of  males
That had damaged her
So badly
over her childhood.
But I was still in love with her.

The Colors of Love are a Rainbow
A short story of life
By
Jude Kyrie

How can anyone be so stunningly beautiful and yet be a total ***** he thought.
He had fallen in love with Meg for all the wrong reasons.
She nearly wore the bed out in his small apartment he thought his spaceship  had crash landed on planet **** for the six months he dated her.
Then he married her
That's when it changed.
Yes for sure it was then.

He should write a book
Just two word long
a sure fire ******* best seller.

How to cure a Nymphomaniac
By Harry Proctor
Marry Them
The End

She was bossy and mean
Do this do that
Are you never getting up the garden's overgrown you idle *****.
**** the garden i said under my breath.
Get in here for some more nookie.

I think it was after a year I hated her guts.
Get over here and fix the TV  remote you useless ****.
GGGGRRRRR
I mouthed ***** and she heard me whisper ******* Harpie.
She went quiet I thought maybe
I just need to get a pair and stand up to her.
She reached me in the kitchen and delivered
a three-pointer right in my goolies.
*** ***
I thought I was going to have three Adam's apples.

She took me to bed later
When all was functioning again
She was ******* incredible
she could do things the girls did
in the naughty, man magazines I kept hidden.
I met Annette and her husband at a street party.
It must be thirty years ago now.
God, I never believed in love at first sight but she got me.
Soft spoken blue eyed ***** *** I wanted her.
It was mutual.
but we didn't take it to its conclusion she was married to Bill
And I had Meg my ******* nightmare harpie.
She noticed me ogling Annette and cut my *** off for six weeks.
I laughed at her make it a ******* year I don't care.
After three months
she took me back to her bed
my tongue hanging out to my toes
the dog was starting to look good.
And ****** the rest of my brains out on the bed.
God to her  that sack was like a pool table to a hustler.

She said don't you even think of trying to get a divorce
she was slicing a big tomato with Henkel carver extra slow so ******* malevolent.
Imagine your useless **** on here she smiled menacingly
as a thin skinny slice of tomato fell on the cutting board.
You belong to me Harry
Don't you ever forget it,
She scared the bejabbers out of me .

I tried to relive all my sins
but I can't think of one bad enough to deserve this
….I almost used the C word--
it was on the tip of my tongue
but my aversion therapy flooded in.

I had used it as a boy on my buddy
when he missed a penalty in the school playoffs
my mom had heard.
And even now whenever I try to use it I can taste lye soap.

So I changed it to the B word.

After thirty-five years she was hit by a truck and was killed instantly.
All I could think was
I hope the poor truck driver is alright.
And then dancing around the living room.
IM FREE __IM FREE----  IM FREE
YEAHHHHHH!!!


I decided to go to church again
He had finally answered one of my ******* prayers.
I found God at the age of  Fifty- eight.

I saw Annette in the church
she was older but still filled a great bra.
She said harry sorry for your loss
I looked sad and down at the floor
put my poor ******* Harry face on.
And thought
Don't make me laugh Annette
I got chapped lips.

She came over a week later.
She was in my bed ready for a Harry Special.
I had waited thirty ******* years for this.
Get ready girl Dr. Loves just a moment away.

Then on the dresser in front of me.
Was a picture of our wedding day
She was beautiful just like I remembered.
God I couldn't wait to get her out of that ******* dress.
I think I had an ******* for the whole service.
I could hardly remember the words.
Do you take this woman-----a mile away
You're **** tooting
I'll take this woman
Wait while I get her in that hotel.
And give her America's favorite breakfast
A roll in bed with honey.

Then it hit me like a ******* black shadow
I sat on the edge of the bed.
The long lusted Annette ready to trot.
But I was
Weeping like a child
with my head in my hands.
I said to Annette.
I am sorry honey.
I just can't do it
I just didn't realize
how much I loved my wife.

I know it was me
mea culpa my fault
How I need to see you
just once not to talk.
just to see you alive
and beautiful.
just for a single moment.
In my bedroom drawer
The pictures that were US.
no longer in glass frames
smashed in a fit of desolation.
Now a *** of history
under old birthday cards
I lay them gently
on the table
Smoothing them
as if I could
smooth the wrinkles
You left in my life.

Scars
by
Jude Kyrie

No one gets through life without scars.
I don’t mean being
accidentally scarred.
Like a burn or cut from glass.
The other type
Like the quietness that fills you
When driving through Fruitland
With the window down on a spring day.
The blossoms perfume choking your soul.
And all you can taste is her lips
like the day you made love to her
and she tasted of peaches.
If that was all
it would be bearable.
But holding back tears
When snowflakes
fly for the first time.
Or
That playlist fires up unannounced.
Finding her woolen gloves or
Her lipstick tube in the glovebox.
And people say to you
Hey are you ok?
And the words
It’s just my scars showing.
Form silently on your lips.

Heatstroke
By
Jude Kyrie*

The naked sun sets the world on fire.
A scalded sky like a funeral pyre.
No rain in sight as the heat goes higher
Like musical notes.
Sit the birds on the telephone wire

No peace for me no cool blue moon.
No respite from their crazy tune
The chirping crows turn the volume higher.
The birds are notes on the telephone wire

That awful hurdy-gurdy sound
Makes my head spin round and round
If I had a gun I would surely fire
At those infernal birds
upon the telephone wire.

1951
Manchester in
The North West Of England

The city was broken after the war.
England had won it was said
But it didn't feel like that we won.
I remember the
old smoke stained bricks
of the inner city school.
I remember it in sepia
It had no colors back then.
Nothing did.

Until she came to teach us.
She was beautiful her silks
flowed from her like clouds.
So many colors reds
and magentas and pink and blues

I looked at her and
I wanted to be with her
She was the brightest thing I had seen
since the war had ended.

She said she was from India.
And her dress was a sari.
She had my heart with the
gentle softness of her voice.
Her windchime bracelets
on her lovely honeyed skin tinkled.
But it was her tranquility
that floored me.

She would ask
what have you learned today?
share it with us.
We spoke in a cacophony.
Hush now children she whispered.
listen and learn from each other.
You will all get a turn.

Then when we were troubled
she would drop an important meeting
with adult teachers.
I have an urgent need to speak
with one of my students
She said.

I remember once
i said to her Mrs. Chowdhury.
Why should we work so hard?
there are no jobs anymore.

She said softly but firmly
I know you all each and every one of you.
Her sari swished even louder
I knew I had said the wrong thing.

There is a teacher,
a doctor,
a nurse,
a poet,
a craftsman,
a soccer player,
just in this clas,
i can see it,
I Know this.

Then she opened
the old classroom  window.
and the cool spring air
filtered into the chalky room.
The lilac perfumes drifted  into the room.
What is that fragrance class?
It is Lilacs,
Mrs. Chowdhury,
we sang in unison.
Yes, it is lilacs children.
Last year they all died
with the winter storms.
But now they are back
as sweet as ever.

The jobs died with the war.
But they will be back.
You must all learn as much
as you can to take them.
children.
She never lost a single chance
to teach us something.

I get back to the UK
every now and then .
I am a doctor.
perhaps the one she saw
in her class so long ago.

I call in to see her
in her tiny retirement flat
in Manchester.

She pours me a cup of green tea.
Into a delicate china cup.
It is grown in the foothills
of the Himalayas
she whispers
it is picked young.
so fresh so nourishing.
Never losing her chance
to teach me something new.
Now tell me
what new things
have you learned in America .?

Tossed in a Storm

I fell in love with you
It was a simple choice.
Because I did not have a choice.
We do not choose
Who our heart falls in love with.
I am struck by your lightning.
I am Drowned in your Rain.
I am deafened by your thunder.
You are the heart of a hurricane.
And I am tossed
in the eye of your storm.

Today​ ​the​ ​sky​ ​is​ ​too​ ​blue
perhaps​ ​even​ ​the​ ​trees
have​ ​a​ ​sad​ ​heart.
Their​ ​leaves​ ​catching
moisture​ ​from​ ​the​ ​humid​ ​air.
and​ ​dripping​ ​it​ ​like​ ​tears
onto​ ​a​ ​cracked
​ ​parched​ ​earth​ ​below.
perhaps​ ​I​ ​am​ ​too​ ​blue
​ ​like​ ​the​ ​sky.
or​ ​maybe​ ​it​ ​is​ ​just  
something​ ​about ​the​ ​wind,

She did not cry.
perhaps that was the odd thing.
I saw the two soldiers at her front door.
one with a chaplains uniform.
Her son was on active duty
in the Marines.
I knew at once
what the bad news would be.

I remember It was late springtime
and all through the days that year
I could see her
working non stop in her garden.
Trimming,transplanting, weeding.
until the evening light dimmed
Into darkness.

I have never seen such
An abundance of beauty.
Flowers and shrubs a color scape
a complete mass of bloom.
The snipping of her pruning shears
never ceasing
like a cicada in August.

Lantern shaped blossoms
cascaded down in multitudes
from the flowering trees.
Like the tears
she could not cry.

Canadian Moment
~~

*The shoreline of the great lake is adorned with
the majestic maples.
wearing their fall red coats of splendor.
The lakes still waters reflecting their images.
The edge of the setting sky
joining  in the upside down
picture that is changing by the moment.
Adding greys and magenta
to the blood red maples reflection.

We never see the lake as colorful
except in its autumnal glory.
The golden sun falls slowly on the horizon.
The sky crumbles into rainbows of red.
Eager to join the forming painting
on the waters silvered surface
as nature paints with her palette.

Darkness cast her peaceful shadow
The wild life comes to the shoreline slowly.
To join in all living things in a silent prayer
of gratitude for such bounty.

I am not human
they are not animals
We are all as one life species
speaking a language
That needs no words

Take Me Back

Do you remember
when we were teens Darlin.
Call a strong sea wind
to blow away the foggy hazy years.
I see us now clearly it’s us my love.
We are lay beneath the oak tree in the park.
That summer day when school had finished.
We are drinking cheap wine
right from the green bottle.
I am rolling a joint.
We get high and a little drunk
I unfasten your shirt
you kiss me deeply.
Wow I can still feel your heat.
You tell me I am beautiful
I say beautiful is for women.
We had *** in the wild outdoors
even in the earshot of home.
We were not friends back then
only lovers if you call lust love.
Look at us now we are all grown up
Our three children asleep in their beds
The nice house and cars.
You with your conservative
dress for success suit
the complete modern mom.
I am sat reading gardens monthly.
Do you remember when it happened?
getting grown up like this.
God darling
I would give it all up
for one crazy day when we were young.
your bra and ******* on the floor next the bed.
The faint smell of our burning joint
in an ashtray next to the bed.
And us on it
like the two wild animals we once were

My life has flowed
like a river
meandering  its way
to a distant ocean.

I am but a leaf
Carried in its streams.
As the ocean becomes closer
I can see the depths of the water.
clearly like the details of a painting.

And on the clarity of the river bed,
Even a single washed smooth pebble.
has a place and a meaning.
Like my soul will have
When the river
Reaches the sea,

I just heard we have lost you
As always it is us that are left here
that now feel the loss.
Your pain is over now
rest sweetly my dear friend.
Lie silent away from the chasing
demons that followed you in this life
hiding behind every sad thought
and lonely moment
I of all people saw you bravely fight the war
thinking again and again you had won.
But alas it was only a battle.
I shall always miss your sweetness
and the kindness that lay in your soul.
People never understood your agony
When will they learn
to hate the illness not the person?
Under the scared and wounded soul
that I have seen so vulnerable
I alone know the truth of you.
This world was never a place
for one as beautiful as you

Once more I am writing poems
to the spirits that haunt my heart.
The ones that wail at my bones
beneath my skin.
Let all this darkness flow in my ink.
Pouring itself onto paper like blue veins.
Letting light back inside
make me whole again.
Its three in the morning
I am digging in the ruins of my heart.
Unearthing old broken memories.
Once you collected all the stars
In the milky way and
pressed them into my hands.
To guide you through
the darkness of life you said.
How could I not stop the gods
from taking you.
The one who could collect stars.
When you left I folded my heart
into a love letter.
And slipped it quietly into your soul.
To take with you to eternity.
I promised myself to stop
writing to the ghost.
But they are all the
comfort that remains,
So I write to them one more time.
As the dying embers of your stars
fade one by one.

In my dream Jude is riding
a 64 red Mustang convertible with
white upholstery.
The beetles are
roaring
All my Lovin'

Its throaty roar
from the straight
through muffler
at eighty mph
caused a squeal of
delight from my
passenger
Ellie Whitehead
only the hottest girl
in my school.

I have been
fantasizing about her
for weeks.
I would give up my red car
for her to--well never mind
Its my dream after all.
Wow! I am 17 again.
I love this dream.

The alarm clock
vibrates with a
mean spirited
vengeance.
I awaken rudely.
I kiss the
middle aged lady
next to me in my bed.
and whisper
rise and shine
Ellie my love
its a new day.

February

*The hyacinth bulbs I planted
in a *** have finally bloomed.
Pink and purple flowers appear.
new life adorns my kitchen window.

Outside snowflakes are flying.
before they settle
on the pathway
they melt into water.

Shortest month its days
fly by.
Springtime is peeking
around the corner.
My heart hums a joyful tune

My heart is like a
tumble down shack.
it's shingles are missing
several Windows are broken.
the lights flicker
due to bad wiring.
and the paint is peeling.
An artist would find it quaint
and paint its picture.
but it is so wrecked up
I could not ask
anyone inside
to live in it.

The man with no name...an excerpt from a love story I am too lazy to write

Sat in the window seat
of the olde English cottage.
The open bow window
providing natures salted
air conditioning from the sea.
Breaking waves below the cliffs.
the only noise in the starlit night.
I turned to see your face
the one that takes
my breath away and
Fills my heart
with hopes and dreams.
Your lips open slightly
the words
I love you
are on the tip of your tongue.
They have no need to be spoken.
Because I can feel your heart
beating with mine and I know it.
You found me and rosebud cottage.
I know one day your memory
may return
that you may have
a wife and children.
And the loss of you
will be too much
for me to bear.
So we sat there
with the sea below us
and the stars above us.
I whispered
"I love you darling."
And for now
for this moment
I am happy once again

I used to envy the handsome ones
that received your kisses and warmth.
then because the world started to spin
In the opposite direction.
you chose me I still don't believe it.
I wish my days of envy were behind me.
the color green faded away forever,
but it is not
I am jealous of the moon
looking at you sleeping
all through the night.
devouring your sweet dreams
as only he sees them.

I envy the silk sheets on our bed
as the fold lightly over every
curve of your sweet body.

Even the pillow where
your rest your head
beautiful in sleep
your hair spread over it
the color of corn.

Most of all I envy the morning sun
he is awake before us
and sees you first
as you awake from slumber.
when you are totally unaware
of the beauty you own.

he smiles through the
bedroom window
and sends you beams
of delicate  light to kiss your lips

Remembering is hard to do.
Treading back though lost highways.
Like the old shanty clambar
By the dunes
in the summer so long ago.
The peeling paint and
smoke stained ceiling.
The little square of the dance floor.
.From the Wurlitzer.
Elvis wailing Love me Tender.
You in my arms so lovely
So young so sweet.
You could buy a huge bowl
Of steamers back then
for a couple of dollars.
God I miss you honey.
Why did have to go and die
on me.?
I pull the car into the parking lot
The clambar is a chicken shack now.
Hey it's gloomy as ever in here.
The Wurlitzer is still there.
I dump a quarter into it
Pressing B15
Elvis croons Love me tender
I see two ghost dancing close
On the dance floor.
But they tmight just be us.

She kept a list of her lovers
in her desk drawer
the one that locked.
The one that held
all of her secrets.

The list totaled seventeen.
Not bad she rationalised.
For a forty year old woman
divorced.

she had watched tv dramas
women in her position
had barhopped to fifty lovers
in a year.
but not her.

They ranged from
lovers she needed
lovers she wanted
to lovers who
could not pass from
one night to the other.

But the new neighbor
was different.
he had a daughter
twelve or so.

She had dropped a bag
of groceries the
eggs splatterered
he held her close
saying shushhh honey
its ok.
kissing her hair
Keeping her safe
and comforted.

Her ex never did that.
An hour later he appeared
with two more
bags of grocery.
She felt him watching
her slip into her pool.
She felt his eyes on her.

He appeared with
a bottle of wine.
Can I join you he asked?
As he took his clothes off
and sat in the pool.
Only if you dont take this
the wrong way she smiled.

He slipped naked
in the blue water.
He looked fit and tanned.
As she slipped out of the water
he looked into her eyes
and said you have
beautiful breast.

Blushing she closed her robe.
Do you get lonely he asked.?
Yes sometimes.
I do too he whispered.
Are you lonely now
Yes she said.

Five years later

They laughed as
thier new baby girl
joined the other children
in the pool.

Swimming for the first time
her new baby laughed.
She looked at him holding
the chid safe,
He was so safe so warm.
So much what she needed.

He reached for her hand.
she felt his solid grip.
I love you my sweetheart
he said.
As he picked up her litte girl
I love you too
daddy she whispered.

As a tear of joy
flowed softly
down my face.

It was the day before you left
I remember the breakfast
then the walk.
The floral gardens are so lovely
in the early summer.

Focused perfectly
you framed in roses
within the arch
of the climbing rose arbor
Somewhere a windchime
was lilting.

Looking now
at the last photograph
I would take of you.
They say the clicking camera
tells no lies

Your ashen loveless face
Was saying the goodbye
I heard this morning.

In my dream Jude is riding
a 64 red Mustang convertible with
white upholstery.
The beetles are
roaring
All my Lovin'

Its throaty roar
from the straight
through muffler
and 289 in line engine
at eighty mph
caused a squeal of
delight from my
passenger
Ellie Whitehead
only the hottest girl
in my school.

I have been
fantasizing about her
for weeks.
I would give up my red car
for her to--well never mind
Its my dream after all.
Wow! I am 17 again.
I love this dream.

The alarm clock
vibrates with a
mean spirited
vengengence.
I awake rudely.
and kiss the
middle aged lady
next to me in my bed.
And whisper
rise and shine
Ellie my love
its a new day.