The road was all mud
she slipped with the drizzle
and you couldn't tell
the color she wore
but her big awed eyes
colored the land in all colors
making her lose breath
gazing at every little thing
till over the noise of lightning
boomed her father's voice
be fast girl before the rain is harder
when she would run for his hand
and slip again and again
counting fun at every fall
her eyes a glowing island
from the mud scarred face.

Once in the market
the man gave her a good wash
little knowing she was drenched
with all the dreams
eyes could ever see.

The big man with a crooked smile and big hands
By
jude kyrie

A long long time ago
Way before digital took over the planet.
My grandfather was  an airman in WW2.

He never dropped a single bomb
or even fired a weapon in that war..or any war.
In fact he was a bit of a pacifist.
live and let live was his way.

The only trigger he ever pulled
Was on his beloved camera.
Instead  he aimed camera lenses
at the Germans snapping their country
From the air
Lay upon his belly and on the planes belly.

Back at the American airbase
Deep in the quaint  UK country village.
he printed his photographs.
enough to cover an airfield.
He always had a faint odor
of fixer and developer chemicals.

He met an English lady in the darkroom.
They printed their photographs together
mixing the fixer and developer.
She got used to his crooked smile and big hands
He got used to her being there.

When the war ended he returned to the states
and opened a camera and photography shop.
He built a big darkroom by his own hands.
when it was finished he went back to England
on a cargo ship to save money.

He found the lady from in the darkroom.
he asked her to marry him.
Kneeling on one knee at her cottage doorway.
Holding a small bunch of flowers
that looked even tinier in his huge hand.
and she accepted his proposal and married him.
At the old stone church in her village.

when they returned to New York
he showed her the darkroom he built for them.
On the door was a note
held by a thumbtack
It said I fell in love with you
in the dark.
but I want you to follow the light
with me for the rest of our lives.

A year later my dad was born
with a crooked smile and big hands
and also his love of photography.
He had the eye for
color and shadow and light.

After I was born I did not follow the
love of photography.
But would get into trouble at school
for writing poems in the margins
of my work books.

I received a late phone call the other day
Grandma  passed away peacefully in her sleep.
She left her small apartment to me.

As I sorted through her belongings
I found the  note that grandpa
pinned on the darkroom door
When she married him.
And I was moved to tell this story.

Follow the light once more Grandma love.
look for a big man with a crooked smile
and big hands he's waiting for you.

Even when I was  a little boy
in grade school.
I knew what love looked like.
She wore glasses
and had two long pigtails
I carried her books everywhere.
She treated me
like her puppy at home.

In high School
I met love again.
Love  was more like a woman now.
But still a little girl inside.
Her softness was forming.
We looked into
each other's eyes
love and I.
Under starry nights,
And prom dances.
I bought love a corsage
Love kissed me that night
for the very first time.

In college, love was a grown woman.
Full of politics,ideas and opinions.
Love stopped wearing lipstick.
And started calling men *******.
I said to love
I am a man --I think
Love took me to her bed
She said not you all the others.
And then left me for another guy.

After college.
I married love she was different.
She wanted to build a nest.
Where we could raise a family.
We had three kids love and I.
And I got left behind somehow.
I became the father of loves children.
And loves husband and breadwinner.
A bunch of labels.
Love stopped
seeing me as a man.
I nearly died of loneliness.

After the divorce
I was  forty-five.
I found love again.
She was older and.wiser
Love did not fall for
the cries of men easily.
She took no wooden nickels.
But I loved her .
Love said we do ok for retreads.
I told love she was beautiful
Even when her eyes were red
From crying of her lost love.
Then love wept
perhaps once too often.
And love  left me.

It's been awhile since love left.
But I know she is out there somewhere .
sipping coffee in Starbuck's in Seattle
or
Watching the tree light
in Washington's square.
Or
Sunbathing on a beach in LA.

You see when love left me.
I left the door wide open.
I whispered softly.
Bye Love, thanks
for coming to see me.
Don't be a  stranger love
come back soon
I love it when you are around.

Anonymity does not limit me in the corridors of insanity
where conformity is not a word used.

True to their words the guards of the wards
ward off the devil that tries to bring me down
to his level, but
I can rise above it on a carpet from Baghdad
sold to me by Sinbad who is in the next bed.

Then Queen of Hearts said,
'off with his head'
but she holds no jurisdiction
in the halls of this great asylum.

Some like me haunt the troughs of society
wide eyed with mad hair,
shuffling like old men,
some sit and stare at the pictures not there
and
some talk in ciphers, but only the lifers and
they're all quite mad dontya know.

you might know me by name
and if so
you'll know what the game is,
keep them guessing
keep them gassing like old
lasses on a Lancashire lawn
when we get older we might even
be born
until then we're just biding our time.