In the narrowest of lanes
I found the sweet shop.

Behind dusty crumbling glasses
dozed the old keeper
smelling of sugar, milk and sweat
over fossils of Paleolithic sweets
on a time machine from the century
he never was
to a millennium he doesn't bother about
clinging onto clay by pottery
not succumbing to synthetic
counting not on android
but accounting on parchment
with the art of finger's arithmetic
most intricately scribbled with pencil
announcing progress is a trouble
not designed for the simple
and contentment has no more nitty-gritty
than price and quantity.

Over his head
spiders worked and reworked
from the ceiling to the glass
as have been doing
since Carboniferous.

Respect turns to trust and kisses your bones
In bird language I speak tones of glowing stones
Roses freeze the afterglow of darkness
Dressed in moans and loaning their hands to anyone that passes
The dancers resume amusing stances
Chances are France is falling faster than a comet
Soaring like ships from broken moorings in Spain
Hours invested in self selection
A healthy hesitation to understand beauty

•••
Narinig ko lang pangalan mo
Kumirot na ang puso ko
Akala ko okay na ako
Akala ko lang pala

Mr.man in the moon
when i call for you can you hear me?
can you hear my words soaked in pain and heartbreak?
Do they reach you all the way up there?
Mr man in the moon can you see the scars i desperately try to hide? can you see the ones that are so deep, deep enough to reach my heart?  scares that have been made for all of my life?
Mr. man in the moon can you smell me? can you smell my liqueur stained clothes or my lips which hint at smoking and drinking?

you sit on your thrown and hear us calling fot you, calling at you for words of wisdom. we all want your attention. So answer us! answer me!
please
i dont know what to do...

Limitless mind with a limited body.
For everyone with a brain thinking is a hobby
I find myself lost in though in a hotel lobby.
My imagination forming nearly perfect artistry for me to see
But could never draw it out cause I'm not good with my hands.
I see myself flying in the sky without a plane.
But I can't do that either so I'm stuck here on land.
I see myself happy and having a life of excitement,
But I'm here loving normally because things don't go as planned.
Why is it that we can think of anything.
But we can barely do anything.
They tell me I could do whatever I put my mind to.
But I can't do even a fraction of what my mind wants to do.
I guess I'll have to face facts and have affairs with fiction.
Because I see no way getting past these restrictions.

Why do I choose to write when I'm sad?
What about when I'm over the moon happy?
When I'm crying on the floor nothing but sobs reach my mouth.
I reach for a pen
But,
When I'm happy.
I inhale it.
Believing not another day will be this joyous

Here  I am again. Sorrow in my heart.
Nothing but sadness wiped on my courages face.
Every time I'm sad it's a different kind of pain.
But the pen in my hand always stays.

A Love Poem
From
Jude Kyrie

They walked on the snow covered city sidewalk.
An old couple with slowing gait and unsure of their foothold.
He stopped under the streetlamp
holding her gently close to his heart.

Looking into her gray eyes still beautiful
untouched by the ravages of time
from so many long years.
Do you remember, my love?
You smiled at me here so long ago.
so very long ago under this very lamp.

Her face lightened a smile flickered
“yes, my darling I remember”.
The years fell away as leaves in the fall
and the icy world melted
in their moment of tender warmth.

He pulled her close to him.
Her body no longer old and frail.
He felt the strong woman inside her
the one he had loved forever.

I think of you in my dreams he whispered
join me in them my love.
You are wearing a summer dress
holding the single white rose
I brought for you.

The music in the café plays a waltz.
It swells and halts and ladies
sit in red gilded chairs sipping coffee.
The summer breezes the fragrance
of love into this room

Your smile once again enraptures my heart.
Your eyes darken as they find mine,
filling me with yet unfulfilled promises.
We are drowning in the melody about us
the music takes our hearts and
shines them as the sunlight on dewdrops.
Just the single pure white rose
cupped in your hands.

She smiled at the old memory
Her visions sharing his dream.
Even after this lifetime together.

"It is strange how one day
and a single white rose
can make lifetime lovers
from just friends."
she whispered.