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There is a world that no one knows
Where life unnoticed grows and thrives
Where birth and death and all between
Are scrutinised, yet are unseen

Where innocence and purity
In white are welcomed, full of hope
Impinging slowly, edging in
Life’s colour forming character

Where independent yellow gloats
In fierce teen triumph ‘Look at me!”

With fun and laughter orange glows
And reaches high in happiness
Experience and independence
Rich lessons teach and edges darken

Their lives on show, rough judgement falls
And ‘I prefer the red’ is thrown
About and listened to and felt
And colours deepen, darkened hue

In wind and rain and sunshine showers
Red develops, life impinges
Bright happiness or blood-red wisdom
Growing older, growing wiser

Where petals turning in reveal
Quiet pom-pom introversion
While out-turned fingers stretch with glee
Prima donnas, dancing, twirling

Where purple self-awareness turns
Each pink and mauve and lilac from
The bloom of youth towards life’s wane
Yet far enough away, rebelling

Where days grow shorter, sliding past
Yet hands stretch out and cup each face
And noses breathe and fingers touch
And bees buzz past and voices rise
And babies cry and old men laugh
And yet unknown, unseen, life slows

Bright-eyed the purple-rinse brigade
With sparkle-induced energy
Remembering and reminiscing
Their days they fill with endless chatter

Late Autumn falls and nights draw near
White heads do droop and slip, like snow
Fine petals drift into the breeze
An echo whispering til Spring.
Jude kyrie Oct 2016
The heat in the concrete city is oppressive.
Only two days left two sleeps.
And we will go to the island for a holiday.
Dad gets two weeks from every August.

We leave Manchester
and it's smoke stained walls.
And drive to Anglesey
on the north west corner of Wales.

Every year to the extremity
of the land to the irish sea.
I am fourteen my sister is ten
We will be away from the city

Where a fishing boat means a tin can
With a Johnson 9.9 putting behind it.
There is fresh sea air
Clear waters teaming with mackerel.

We will catch a bucket full
Mom will fry them
and serve them with butter.

Fresh from the farm
just down the lane.
The eggs come
from happy chickens.
That strut around a farmyard.
That reeks of animal poo.

I sit on the beach
And watch the girls playing ball
They are beautiful.
But I am lost in the no man's land
Between boy and man.

I notice her shake her hair
It's blonde and has natural waves.
Her bikini starting to fill out.
She looks way too unattainable for me.

But I watch her and she notices.
That was the summer
I kissed a girl for the first time.
In the barley fields.
Hidden by the grass from
anyone but God to see.

I fell in love with her
And it broke my heart
For the first time
When we left to go home.

Then I was twenty four
I went back to Anglesey
And sat on the beach
Watching the boys
watching the girls
play ball.

A shadow fell across me.
The bright sun behind her
Her hair was blonde
And naturally wavy.
She was beautiful
Hello again she said.
May I sit here
Yes of course please join me.

I am thirty
Not much changes
on the summer beach
At Anglesey.
I sit watching my children
play in a rock pool.

A boy and a girl .
The boy looks a lot like me
But the girl
looks like my beautiful wife.
Her hair is long and blonde.
With natural waves in it
Framed and highlighted
by the summer sun.
Yes it was her
Smiles
Jude
Jude kyrie May 2016
Fishing off Puffin Island as a boy
By Jude Kyrie

I remember back to my boyhood
it was a different place in time.
The little aluminum fishing boat.
Its ancient Johnson outboard motor.
leaving a wake splitting the calm Irish sea
off the coast of Anglesey in North Wales.
My grandfather lived his retirement
years out in the small fishing village.
We reach Puffin Island
a deserted rock of land full of nesting puffins
The anchor tossed over into the deep waters
of the Irish sea.
We dropped our lines in the water and waited.
The heavy lines tripple baited in anticipation
of a healthy dinner catch.
The schools of Mackerel
attacked  our bait
We were tired of pulling them into the boat.
My grandfather slitting the bellies
and cleaning them throwing the guts
back into the sea that bred them.
Hungry fish clamored for the feed.
nothing left for waste.
I held a spluttering Storm light
to pierce the blackness of the night.
My fear of a giant shark
attack filled my young heart.
we packed our catch and the propeller
creating a phosphorous wake behind us.
I marveled at the multitudes of species
below my feet.
And at the untamed violence and beauty of life
that we all shared on this wonderful planet.
And then back into darkness.
The total black darkness.
Puffin Island is a real place
see wiki note below

Puffin Island (Welsh: Ynys Seiriol) (at SH 649 821 or 53°19′05″N 04°01′40″W) is an uninhabited island off the eastern tip of Anglesey, Wales. It was formerly known as Priestholm in English and Ynys Lannog in Welsh. A hermitage was established here around the 6th century and there are remains of a 12th century monastery on the island. The island is also a Special Protection Area for wildlife.
Lawrence Hall Feb 2018
Contents of that Secret F.B.I. Memo

Next week the world is going to end again
When the north pole and the south pole switch places
According to secret radio transmissions
Secretly beamed from the secret headquarters
Of the secret Club of Rome far beneath
The Vatican and secretly aligned
With the secret sword of the secret Knights
Templar with the secret star WD-40
By our secret Masters on the secret
Planet Xenophobe in secret accordance
With the ancient prophecy of Cranium
The Elder discovered in a Prince Albert can
By the Portuguese philosopher and
Explorer Almoso Nutellaeus
Who thus received the dark secrets of the
Atlantean sorcerers in a secret
Language which only he was able to translate
When the Moon God Myrtle of the Aqua Kirtle
Blessed his Radio Shack TRS-80
With a rare pixie dust which can only be
Found in a certain secret plain in the
Sahara Desert at the Winter Solstice
Marked by a Bionic Blood Altar cursed
By the Knights of Toledo in a strange
Ceremony which can only be witnessed
By the Initiates of the Order of
The Cumulonimble Secret Ferrets
Of the Discalced Colossus of Roads
Whose emblematic pilum can be discerned
By pouring lemon juice over the pictures
Of the Caesars in a sacred clearing
In the secret Wood of the Thirteen Oaks
And a Loblolly Pine made when The Primal
Pole-er Bear from Beyond Time set up
The North Pole and the South Pole, and gave the
North Pole Santa Claus and the South Pole Little America
Station, and this Manichaean duality
Has set the planet in opposition
To itself, resulting in the cancellation
Of Gilligan’s Island after only three seasons
Because Gilligan and The Skipper were close
To discovering the Pre-Raphaelite
Anaemic Amoebic Astrolabe in yet
Another papier mache cave infested
By toxic golden hamsters of existential doom
Guarding a time-and-space portal leading
Directly to Oak Island where Captain Kidd’s
Lost cuff links (the ones with little pictures
Of Elvis golfing with leprechauns) can
Be found, the cuff links that channel the energy
Between The North Pole and the South Pole enhanced
By the chakra of a Hoover vacuum cleaner
Once used by Winston Churchill’s housekeeper
During the Blitz before she married her second
Husband, Trevor, who was the Hereditary
Keeper of the Keys of the Guernsey Privy
And thus a carrier of fairy blood
As required by Ye Ancient Lawes of the Booke
Of…something-or-other…which was carved in runes
On Roman skulls just before the loss of
The Island of Anglesey to Governor
Suetonius who was told by The Voices
That the Druids invented rock ‘n’ roll and
Must be destroyed so that the harmonic
Harmony of the North Pole and the South Pole
Could be restored to their primordial
Nordic vanilla pudding.
Putting it on the slow burn
giving it some time
to turn
into a righteous indignation

they practice prostitution like
it's
something that's brand new
and those politicians fool you
because
that's what they're selling you
and you'll lap it up all kittenish
I wish it wasn't so,
but we've all been genome modified
brains fried
eyes fixed on the floating sphere
wish to **** I wasn't here
time
to do a Rip Van
hell man time
to disappear.

Degenerating, disintegrating while I'm
waiting for the social to be social and
feed my half starved family,
I've been waiting half eternity
but not so ******* patiently
******* take the **** and me
I'm getting fired up.

slow burn on the back burner
you take a turn and earn a buck
they'll try to ******* take it
and then wonder why
you think it's ****,

I wonder why but just a little bit
when I've nothing else to do

— The End —