The Girl Who Taught Me Magic
By
Jude Kyrie

As a small boy
I did not believe in magic.
Then I found out
without it life is dull and tragic.

I met a strange girl
with faraway eyes
She listened to flowers
and could hear their sighs

Her voice was like
a chiming bell.
She would sing loudly
over meadow and dell

She whispered
secrets to the hill
And understood
a starling shrill.

She taught me to speak
with the babbling brook
To know any bird
by just one look.

To breathe the magic
perfumed flowers.
She could ease my mind
for hours and hours.

She taught me
never to be alone.
To find smooth pebbles
and befriend a stone.

How to bathe
in a storms rainbow
and make angels
in the snow.

She laughed at the
wildest thunderstorms.
That crashed and banged
on hot summer morns.

How to dance
instead of walk.
And to stop with the
animals for a  talk.

Then when all her
magic secrets I knew
She fluttered her wings,
and to another boy flew

Now I know magic
is not a trick
It is the natural wonder
of real magic

Even now
she will drop on by.
Sliding down a
rainbow in the sky.

When she sends
a snowflake
to kiss my face.
I know she is back
with her magic grace.

I have seen the sun and moon
Shining brightly in full grace.
I have seen the starlit nights
But never have I seen your face.

I have heard orchestras
Playing sweet music of rejoice.
Heard angel choirs of perfect sound
But never once heard your voice.

I have touched the finest silks
And velvets soft textures too.
The finest objects in the land
But never once touched you.

I have kissed the magenta dawn
And  twilights indigo rise
My lips have tasted the  dew of morn
But never have I kissed your eyes.

In dreams I have done wanton things.
Drank potions from a witches brew.
Awoken in a fiery glow.
But never once with you.

Like the winter tree
Misses it's soft green leaves.

Like the sun is cooled by
Bhe rainclouds of the storm.

Like the winter rose
Misses the warmth of spring.

Like a broken string
on a violin
misses the music.

Like the parched
earth of summer
Misses the rain.

Like a summer night
Misses the trill of songbird's.

Is how I miss you my love.

There are secrets I do not tell
even to myself.
They are the same secrets
the cherry bossoms
know when they
proliferate the cherry trees.
Even as they prepare
to fall like confetti.

They are the
babbling secrets
Of  the mountain streams
as thier waters bounce stunned
into the rocks of the rapids.

Hush whispers the librarian
As the rows
and volumes of books.
Keep their dusty secrets
in her silence.

In the garden
The fluted speakers
Of the morning glory.
Sing only silence
Falling asleep
into dreaming nights.

Just about audible
the taunting voices
Of the
whippoorwill

Never tell
Never tell
Never tell.

Even before I came here
I was part of the ancient sea.
The primordial mix
Salty and teaming with existence

Now after countless eons
I walk outside of its boundaries.
My feet feel it's strong presence
Pulling me to it depths
As I step into the edges
of wet sand.
I hear it's whisper
in salted winds.

Come back to me
Come back
to your mother.
You are mine
and I am yours

I belong to the sea
She is my blood.
The wavelets
are my heartbeat.
The seagrass my veins.

Nothing ever ends
the gulls cry from above.
Only new beginnings
Only new life.

You belong to me
She pulses
from her mighty depths.
I am your eternal mother.

Breathe your air
Sing in the sunlight of earth.
But return to me.
You belong to the sea.

Lifelines

We briefly touched hands today.
For the very last time as lovers.
Familiar and full of old feelings.
My finger tracing your lifeline.
Swirling here and there
like our time did together,

It reaches a fork in the lifeline
like we have.
You take one path
I the other.

Even as we part
I feel old warm
glows from before.
When need want and passion
burned brightly.

Your hand speaks to my fingertips
All the words we no longer can say.
left now only with empty silence.

I look at our time
a small part of your long lifeline.
It was so full
of promises and passion.
Now just distant echoes
from the past.

Unable to return to the beginning
I am left alone once more
With only my memories of you.
And all our yesterdays.

I remember the very
first time she said it.
I was fixing a bike
for the little kid upstairs.

It was soft almost a whisper.
I only half heard it.
She said
I love you honey.
I was dumbfounded

Getting oil from the bike chain
all over my shirt.
Say it again.... Again...
I whispered.... please
say it again.

I love you
she uttered quietly.
I looked at her
so unsure of herself
almost quivering with
my unknown response.

But there was something
about her that grasped my heart
and I knew I would want
to hear her
say it to me forever.

Then she got braver
I Love You.
I Love You,
I Love you
she shouted at full voice.

Like the words had been
on her tongue
for a long time.
Desperately waiting to be said.
Desperately waiting to be heard.

Even when I was a boy
I alway thought  I knew
what love  looked like.
She was soft and blonde
Curvy wIth beautiful blue eyes.

I looked for her for years
and then at last
she finally arrived.

When she showed up
she was brunette wore glasses
that hid her brown eyes .
she hated my music
hated my freinds
and I the in the end
She hated me.

It was ten years
before  love returned again.
This time she had a
short blonde pixie cut.
Green eyes and a perma smile.
She taught me that when a
woman is smiling it does not
reflect what she is thinking.

She played music all the time
that someone  else had bought her.
She did buy me
my favorite ice cream though.
But she would eat it all
in midnight food binges.
as her music played.

I am now waiting for love
to come again.
It's been five years
but I know love
will show up.
I am sure of it.

when love left me last time
I asked it to
leave my door open.
I kissed love quietly goodbye.
And there were no tears.

I whispered softly to love.
thanks for coming to visit me.
I love it when you are around.
Dont be a stranger Love.
Come back and see me soon.

Love invasion

*Here I go again.
I can hear the rattling
of the heavy chains
Padlocked to the door
of my heart.

The crumbling
of tall granite walls
built to keep love out of me.

The light is getting in now
you have got inside of me.
Just enough to make me
fall in love again.

I cannot hold my breath
Before the look of you
takes it away.
A final crash as all my
defences crumble.
You are standing in the rubble.
So much beauty
So much what I need.

I am falling apart
at the power of you.
Then without my consent
You write  your name
Indelibly on my soul.

She said her name was Mary.

I met her in a smoke filled haze.
Inside a dimly lit bar
where men go
to die of the blues.
And to drown in sadness.

Red wine staining our lips
her beautiful hair
Reached to her waist.
A smile of wild promises.
Containing the allure
Of every woman.

Are you him she asked?
I said
I think I am but I am lost.
She kissed my lips.
Her breath fresh
like the bloom of magnolias.

Come to me my lover
I have waited so long for you.
Bring me the cleansing
purity of your sweet love.

Powerless i follow her
I lay with her drowning
In the softness of all women.
She washed my sins away
Drying my soul with her hair.

Death cowered in the shadows
A spectre I no longer feared.
For now I had  seen heavens light
within her eyes..
When the morning light
melted the stars.
She left me

I begged her to stay.
She smiled and touched my cheek.
I am Magdalene
the farmer of men’s souls.
It us my destiny and my
journey on earth.
And my only
pathway to heaven.

The last of the crimson maple leaves.
Falls into the winds of autumn.
Bare and skeleton fingers from the trees
reach out to the coming clouds of winter.

Awaiting its down feathered coats
of purity and pristine snow.
On the branch a single decoration
Of the coming festive season.
A snow white dove that sits alone
Deciding not to fly to warm
Southern climes.

But perhaps to await the return
of its missing feathered mate.
In a final act of lifelong devotion.
That teaches the world a lesson.

I too feel the melancholy
of the rapidly changing seasons.
Tired of its continual flow
from spring to summer
and autumn to winter.
Mimicking my own hearts
fragile mortality.

I love you man.
A Story From Nam

We were seventeen or eighteen in Nam
we became friends forever.
No more than friends.
Soldiers get closer than wives.
We went to sleep saying
I love you man.
We switched letters
For our girlfriends.
In case… well just in case.

The bullets rained
in the clearing that night.
I can still see the tracer lights.
Guys fell down all around me.
Crying everywhere.
Air power cleared them away.

I looked for Joe he was lay there.
I held him close
like a baby as he left us.
His last words
I love you man.
I whispered to him
Not as much
as I love you Man
.
I did not notice I had been hit.
After six months I returned home.
In West Virginia his beautiful girl
Opened the door of a small trailer.
She had a baby boy in her arms.
Her blue eyes welled with tears.
I passed the unopened letter to her.
I lied and said the blood
on it was mine.

She passed the baby
to me to hold
As she read the letter.
I kissed his tiny forehead.
And said see buddy
You’re not dead at all
I love you Man.

I know we are not the same you and I.
We move in two different worlds.
You with dreams that light up the night sky
Your fingers touch the sun
with hope and power.
Me so grounded
to mother earths green roots.
Perhaps too grounded.
I know you frighten me
with your flights
into the heavens.
But I will swallow my fears
like a pill.
And climb onto your flight
We will soar over the heavens
like graceful swallows.
And if ever I should fall
I will gaze forever
into the vastness of space.
And I shall know
that it was you
who took me there.

She found him waiting outside her small flat
he was in the bloom of the old lamplight.
She noticed the grey flecks in his beautiful eyes.
That had caused her to undress for him a thousand times.
Hi!
he whispered softly like honey falling from a spoon.
She flashed her prettiest smile at him.
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 it was palpable.
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 melted her heart so often.
Why me? she asked him almost in a whisper.
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.

The flight back from Vietnam
was crowded and long.
The offensive has failed
the war was now over for some.

It took four days to get to the small hospital
in the old white clapboard
New England town.

The endless war far behind him.
He was at last a minute away
from seeing his beloved Catherine.
He met the Nurse in the hallway.
How is she he asked?
Her seasoned eyes looked at the floor
she shook her head sadly.

And the baby he whispered?
Again her head shook.
  The words just too hard to speak.

Catherine was pale and weak.
Upon seeing him she managed
a smile upon his arrival.
Her beautiful smile
That had stolen his heart
So long ago now..

Oh darling, I am going to die.
Don’t let me die.
Hold me in your arms!
Hold me tight.
Don’t let me go.
When you hold me
we cannot be parted
If you stay with me
I shall not be afraid.

As she left him
The bells tolled from the
old white clapboard tower
  of the church.
To celebrate the end of the war
for some.

He carried her lifeless body
to the window.
It was a beautiful spring day.
Overlooking the square
the townsfolk had gathered
to give thanks to thier Gods.
And we’re singing Amazing grace.

Someone released a flock of white doves
they soared in a cloud
high up to the azure sky
They glided past the window
as if to carry her soul to heaven.

He kissed her still lips
For one last time.
And whispered to her.
Peace at last my love.

I remember you
I was just a young boy.
when mom died grandpa.
Your unshaven face and
brown hard working hands.

you fixed most everything with your hands.
You fixed me with your love Grandpa.
you gave me mom's old room
you told me it was her safe place
and she would visit me there.
When she was settled in heaven.

I told you I did not believe
in heaven Grandpa.
You said it's alright I will one day.
Heaven was a different place
for everyone you said.

When I got hurt
you always picked me up
in your huge arms grandpa.
it was always so safe.

I never told you grandpa
I lied when I said
I don't believe in heaven.
You and grandma
were my heaven Grandpa.

I know you have gone now
to your heaven.
Sat in a kitchen eating food
from the old country.
Grandma is at the stove
Mom on your knee listening
to stories of Europe before the war.

My heaven was with you guys grandpa.
I think I will change my heaven
to yours after all Grandpa.
That's all I want
just our heaven.
I only wish there was a post office
in our heaven
and I could send
this letter to you all.

You Loving Grandson
Jude

She has dedicated her life
to love and romance
affection always craved
and never withheld.
Living in a dreamlike
state of untruths
that to her were
as honest as the day.

In dreams she lies in green meadows
the wind curving the golden barley.
Her heart is as permanent
as the stones
her love unlimited and given freely.

She knew men that she called her lovers.
They drained their needs
and desires Into her
and she loved them.
She bore their children
and gave them all she had.
When they left her
she lost a small piece
of her heart.
Sometimes they took a big piece.

After many years
she had none left to give.
But still she gave of herself to them.
When she died she lay rested
Below the swaying branches
of the weeping willow.
And all the flowers in the meadows.
Turned to face her grave
To bask in her sweet warmth
even in death.

Moon Talk

I am so alone this night.
I hold a conversation
with my old friend the moon.
I whisper to him.
I feet so incomplete
how can all these years pass by
and leave me such a partial being.

My supportive friend answered me
I an seldom complete
sometimes waxing sometimes waning.
Sometimes hardly a flicker of a smile
Sometimes a ghost of a sad mouth.
Remember my human friend
You don't have to be
complete or full to shine.

He always makes sense
I guess he is wiser than humans
after all how many
millions of years old is he.

Then he gave me
the answer I needed
he mused softly.
His voice so magical.
So philosophical
I love him in this mood.

But when you are
feeling full or whole.
That is the time to shine.
To light up the world in the power
of your reflected completeness.
That is when you
will have the power.
The power to effect
every person on earth.
And Move the oceans

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.

Not All  precious things have a value.
Not all in the dark are lost.
The tree that is strong does not wither
Its deep roots lie untouched by the frost.

Like the phoenix  from the ashes has woken
Like the rose under snow in the spring.
Like the heart that forever was broken.
Will soar like a bird on the wing .

When I was born
I was such a pretty little girl.
I remember I was covered
From head to toe in tiny lights.
Thousands of them.
So pretty I shone.
Like an illuminated
Christmas tree.

Then as I became older.
I learned how to lie.
Mom I have done my homework.
A light went out.

Mom there won’t be any alcohol there.
A group of lights faded.
Mom I did not sleep with him.
A whole branch darkened.
It’s OK Dad I will never do drugs.
The lights all dimmed.

Now I am older.
I walk the dark rainy city streets
In the night.

I see my jaded reflection
gaunt and sad in the mirrors
of the shop windows.

All my pretty lights
have extinguished.
Except if you look Very closely.

just a few of them are
Still trying to glimmer.
Against all possible odds.
Even after all my self harm.
They are around my heart.

I hate cold September mornings.
When the mist rises from
the warm water of the lake.
like smoke signals to a God.

I know it is a harbinger
of what is being taken from me.
The swirling rapids now turned red
with falling maple leaves
stealing all the colour
from the trees.

I can hear the still warm breezes
remaining from the dying summer.
Whispering almost tauntingly
"Its coming"  Beware ..Beware.

I am never ready
not just yet.
September is a thief.
I will never forgive it
for all that it has
stolen from me
Especially for taking you.

She saw me looking at the beautiful night sky.
You seem fascinated by the stars she mused.
They are more fascinated by me I said.
We understand each other
The stars and I.
They see me as the one who makes wishes.
I see them as the stars who fail to grant them.
People think they are made of fire and power.
But they are only made of lost dreams
and unanswered prayers.
Which one is made of your wishes she asked.
I show her the brightest star in the heavens.
It is that one
it burns brightly with my wishes.
They are all about you.
Doesn’t that make you a star?

The tired old station wagon
Pulls to halt in my driveway.
The five children fall out
of its rusted doors noisily
shouting and laughing.

She turns off the sputtering engine.
Slips ghostlike from the drivers seat.

Her five hours of driving
In a bedlam of her children’s noise.
Looking so slight and frail.
My heart melts again.
I enfold her in my arms.

And whisper thanks for coming.
Even though I have moaned
About her children’s disruptions.
The extra work cooking
And entertaining.

I look into my sisters face
And whisper I love you Sis.
You are always welcome
In my house.
And in my heart.

Sitting quietly for a moment.
She looked at me quizzically.
I started to speak softly.
Have you ever
been house hunting.?
looking at place after place
ready to give it all up.
Then opening the door
of the last one.
And getting that
warm fuzzy feeling.
I love it
this is me
I could live here forever.
Well that's how I felt
when I walked
into your heart

My first poem returns

I am a woman in mid life now
Today finding myself pensive and reflective.
working in my flower garden
on a sunny Sunday morning.

Then a poem pulls up
driving a red mustang convertible.
its throaty roar from the 289 Engine
turns my head around.
I remember this car
and this beautiful poem.

I sit in the still familiar back  seat.
It wants me to unbutton my shirt
and unhook my bra.
The poem recites it's soft downy words.
I notice I have taken all my clothes off
like a white pale statue.

I notice the reflection of my naked self
so desirable so hot so ****.
I still have it I feel it
I know it.

Afterwards
the poem and I
smoke a cigarette
talk of Forever's
and marriage
and other untruths.

Death is forever
Perhaps life is a dream
The prize we savor
Is the place in-between.

Loss is forevers
But everything dies
Even the moon
In indigo skies

So stay with me now
Take hold of my hand
Kiss me me for always
In our magic land

I always write my poetry
on grey rainy days.
when the paper catches
the ink from my quill
like teardrops.
And even the clouds weep.

I remember when we first met as children,
we would splash in the puddles
with lime green rubber boots.
I knew even then I would marry her.

Our hearts sang together in the rain.
I have lost her.
she is now beyond the clouds
that bring the sweet rain.

Now a lifetime later
Even when the sickness came
and her last day called to her.
She asked me is it raining my love.
I said quietly yes my angel its raining.

Take me outside
I want to feel the rain
for one last time.
I carried her to the garden
and the pure misty rain
drenched our clothes

Dance me in the rain
she whispered’
I held her like a baby
and carried her in a dance
the rain pattering its gentle rhythm.

Now even after forever.
When it rains
I sit on my covered porch
and read my poems to her.

And I know in a far away
place that knows no pain or darkness
her fingers are pressed against a window pane.
Outside the scene is olive green
and soft gentle rain falls forever.
and my poems are playing in her heart.

A man goes to see his doctor.
He ask her to give him something
To cure his persistent Flatulance.
He said it was not a social problem.
As it happened all the time even
On the subway and in church.
But fortunately it had no sound
And no smell whateve.
He just wanted it to be stopped.
She took out her medical book
And prescribed the man
a cocktail of medications.
Come back in a week she said.
He was back in four days.
*** doctor you have to help me
Those pills have made it loud
It booms through the room
Whenever I pass gas.
She smiled
That's great
We have fixed your ears.
Now let's work on that nose.

These Olympics are lame.
Full of untruthfulness.
They say Usain Bolt
Is the fastest man alive.
Thats total fantasy.
Everyone in England knows
it was my uncle Willie.
A coal miner in northern England
In 1958.
He did the mile in One minute
Fifty two seconds in his pit boots no less.
When he fell down a mineshaft.
Jude

They said the rock was impossible to move.
But HE just smiled  a beam of confidence.
They said it would take twenty men to move it.
But HE took off his shirt and flexed his mighty muscles.
They said it was stupid to even try to move the rock.
But he stepped forward and placed his mighty
shoulder against the boulder.
HE shoved it with all his might.
And he could not move
the ******* rock either.

If at first you don't succeed.
**** it
It might be too hard.
Jude

All the worlds a stage.
so let's Rob it....

Jesse James

The meek shall inherit the earth.
But not the mineral rights.

Jude

Not all people that are alone are lonely.
Not all people that are lonely are alone.*

Jude

Those who know don't tell.
Those who tell don't know.*

Jude

I sit alone in the house.
its silence is deafening
since I lost you.

Across from me sit your
open book and pipe
next to your chair.
I cannot seem to move them.
Almost as if you will
be coming home soon.

I have moved your things
from your study.
Sent your clothes
to the Goodwill.
Except for your old sweater
it sleeps next to my head.
I can still breathe your smell.
Reaching for you
in the night as always.

I phone our number
again and again.
Disturbing your new ghostly life.
I cling to the timbre of your voice
breathing in every nuance.

It is better than faded pictures
and left belongings.
For a brief moment
you are with me again.

You ask me to leave a message.
I whisper softly.
I miss you honey.

She stood facing
the fading sunlight.
High  on a windswept hill.
Beautiful and serene.

She told me
she was a fallen angel.
And her wings
had been taken away.

She said she would
teach me how to fly one day.
High above the moon and stars.

It was a sad
yet beautiful untruth.
She held out her arms
and enfolded me in them.
Like her lost wings.

The beautiful fallen Angel
with the sunlit hair
and eyes as blue
as a summer sky.

The only one
who can make
my lonely heart sing.

I am writing love poems
to the ghost once more.
The ones that wail in the space
where my heart once lived.
Where sadness now dwells
in deep oceans.
And longing lies drowned
in their depths.
Let the ink spill in blue words
like veins of blood onto the paper.

Once you collected all the stars
from the galaxy.
You pressed them
into my eager hands.

To guide you through
all the darkness of life you said.
How could I ever stop the gods
from taking you away?
The one who could collect stars.

When you left I folded my heart
into a love poem.
And slipped it quietly into your soul.
To take with you to
eternity I whispered.

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 slowly
fade in my hands
one by one.

The Girl who spent heartbeats
By
Jude  Kyrie.

Her currency was heartbeats
She only shopped with time.
She paid for things with seconds
As she waited in a line.

You cannot put heartbeats in a bank.
To save for a rainy day.
You either use them or you lose them.
I guess heartbeat’s are made that way.

She would spend her heartbeats on strangers
As they shared all their troubles and woes.
Because kind hearts are worth more than gold.
And go much further than money goes.

She spent a heap of heartbeats on moments
Visiting old and precious friends.
Who wondered how she was always happy.
With so little money to spend.

But money only buys possessions
While heartbeats buy much more.
They buy  you friends and love and laughter.
And a warm  smile at every door.

It a fact you can’t buy heartbeats
When you have used them they are gone
So spend your heartbeats wisely
For one day you will have none.

They sent Michael back to England.
His work visa had expired.
I thought that was
going to be the last I saw of him.
He was way too handsome
for sloughy old me anyway.
I had started to put weight on again.
My *** deciding it was not already big enough.
But my friend Annie said you look really good Kelly.
Your skin is clear and your glowing.

The morning sickness was a clue.
My doctor said three months in honey.
Your having a baby.
The later months were awful I got very sick.
It’s preeclampsia the doctor said.
I was bed rested for three months.
Still no word from Micheal.
I guess he had some English rose in the UK.
Drinking tea in a rose garden or something.
Then the attack came
I went into a coma.
It was three weeks later I awoke.
Someone was holding my hand.
It was Micheal.

I smiled weakly ..the baby I asked?
Fine Kelly they are both fine.
But you
I got a tempory visa last week
But we have to be married in two weeks
Or its back to old blighty for me.

He married me because
I was pregnant I am Sure.
Well double pregnant really
it was twins.
I never thought that he could love me
or that I could dare to love him.
It just felt the right thing to do.

But it changed when the twins arrived
I have never seen anyone as happy as him
well unless you count me in that is.
He was so good looking so gentle
What did he ever see in me?
I was always cheating and losing
on diets to keep myself a size fourteen.
My hair frizzy and wild.
But he made me feel beautiful.
How did he do that?

We went for a Sunday evening walk
It was beautiful fall in central park.
We walked the twins
in their double stroller.
The leaves had turned
to red and amber
under the chilling winds
of late New York autumn.

The late fall sunlight
lit up the park in reds and golds
against the grey outlines of the old city.
A city that had seen many such love stories.
I see Michael holding the twins in his arms.
I could see the love he had for us all
in his beautiful eyes.
The same eyes that had
some major optical defect.
An aberration that
I had no understanding of.
Because he saw me as
beautiful and worthy of his love.

And in that single moment
There in central park on a red carpet
of rustling autumn leaves.
I felt him walk in into my heart
through a door I had always
left unlocked for only him.

As he entered inside me
to a place on this earth
that was destined for him alone.
I closed the door quietly behind him.
Locking it with the only key that existed.
Then throwing it far into the urban woodlands
never to be found again.

The Time Traveller
Time is a confusion to me these days
is it today or twenty years ago?
Old age has taken its toll with me.
My mind is now a time traveling machine
Where will I be when I wake?
A thrush warbles its tune
through the open bedroom window,
Summer fills the air with fragrances.
I turn to Mary and say
It’s going to be a wonderful day my love.
Then as I touch her hair
her undisturbed pillow
reaches my fingers.
Then it is now again
I know she is no longer here with me.
How strange the instant of our los
s never loses its sharp pain?

I read the notes
my daughter left for me.
The six cartons of milk in the refrigerator
A testament to my time travels.
As I eat a bowl of cereal
Mary joins me for a chat once more.
We talk of our retirement plans,
the travel, the exploring the joys.

Old age will be our time,
she smiles
I am as fascinated with her sparkling eyes
as I was the first time I saw her
so long ago so very long ago.

I have an overwhelming need
to tell her I love you, but she has gone
lost in the mystery of times ether.

My daughter arrives to fix my lunch.
dad why don't you sell up
And move into the retirement home.
she asks "don’t you get lonely here Dad?"
I answer quietly
and Mary smiles secretly
from across the room.
No kitten, not lonely.never lonely.

I always called her Ma'am
A Story poem
By
Jude Kyrie


Ma’am

*I remember the first time
that I met her.
It was at the orphanage.
I was a lifer.
Who adopts fourteen
year old boys?
Who are always running away.
Apparently no one.

She was beautiful.
and had the most angelic face.
Oh! her smile,
it was like purest sunshine.
Unsure of how to address a Nun
I always called her Ma’am.
She did not seem to mind

I think that was when I realized
she was the only friend I had.
What I did not know was
I was falling in love with her.
That confusing rite of passage
from Boyhood to Manhood.
Full of emotions that
I had never felt before.
Or maybe I just needed
someone of my own to love.

I have never seen
as much kindness
before or since.
It flowed from her.

She stopped me
from running away again,
and taught me
how to read books
great books.
by important authors.

To learn poetry
and to talk about
its meaning.
At this point I knew I loved her.
She took me to the mission where
the homeless lived and we served
in the free kitchen together.
I would have followed her to the moon.

She was relocated
after a couple of years.
To a mission in Africa.
I was desolate
Begging to go with her.
I even asked her to marry me.
She smiled and said
if she was free
she would marry me
in a heartbeat.

But explained gently
to my young heart
that she was already
married to her faith.
Showing me her gold ring.

She died a few years later
her letters stopped coming
It was a bout of malaria.
But I believe that God missed her
As much as I did.

Now when I feel alone or sad.
I open an old shoe box.
the only thing I took
from the orphanage.
And read her stacks of letters.
one by one.
Always in the order
that she sent them to me.
And as usual
I feel warm and safe again

My little daughter sometimes
Says who is the pretty lady daddy
I lift her up to look at her picture
closely on the family room wall.
And I say to her
That's sister Angelica honey
She was daddy's best friend.

Fathers And Daughters
A Story Poem
By Jude Kyrie

*My tiny flat is old and dark.
All I got in the split
looks out of place.
She took most everything.
I do not care she can have it.

The only thing I wanted from her
was her love and my daughter.
She has taken both of these things
to another man’s house now.

She drops my teenage daughter off.
for my weekend.
She looks reluctant,
giving me her disinterested look.
but realizes she will have to stay.

My wife looks well and very beautiful
I close my eyes for a moment.
Remembering her long hair
falling on my bare chest
in our bed as we made love.
She turns and leaves
I notice her shapely legs so ****.
I want to say Honey please don’t go.
But bite my lip.

My daughter has a new
tattoo on her shoulder.
And wears Goth like makeup.
My God! What’s happening?
I am cringing
at the miserable time ahead.

Teenagers don't care about anything.
I don’t think we have anything
left in common anymore.
She ate nothing at supper

I go to bed early.
She hears me weeping softly
in the dark.
She comes into my room.
Saying nothing.
She cradled my head
to her small breast.
And kissed my forehead gently.

Then softly she whispered
"Its ok dad,
you are going to be just fine
You have me.
and I will always love you"
That was the moment when
my heart stopped breaking.

Even in the quietest moments
By
Jude Kyrie

Sometimes even
in the quietest moments.
I can hear your voice
comforting kind and gentle.

It stirs up memories
of your unconditional love.
Then goes even deeper
to a need that lives in me.

A need to see you again,
even after all
these passing years.
I know every inflection and
nuance of your sweet voice.

Angels bring me her message.
Angels bring me her love.

For now I understand
there is no silence, no ending.
Only a continuum
of what was once us.

I close my eyes
And I can see you again.
through the mist
of two worlds apart.

Your face so
beautiful to me.
Your kiss
so comforting.

In silent voices
from the quiet
place in my heart
that nobody
but you can fill.
I whisper
I love you Mom.

Dichotomy

Sometimes
I want you as animals mate
raw and untamed.
Teeth and claws tearing flesh.
Other times
I desire you like
a Victorian Lady.
Just a glimpse of your eyes
or the lift of your skirts.
Making me demented
with need of you.

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.
The song birds are singing
only sad songs.
Perhaps​ ​like​ ​the​ ​sky.
​I​ ​am​ ​too​ ​blue.
​ or​ ​maybe​ ​it​ ​is​ ​just
something​ ​about ​the​ ​wind.

I remember when you were tiny
So fascinated by the moon
We hung a sky of golden stars
On the ceiling of your room.

You tied strings from star to star
Making star patterns yet unknown.
Became a bedtime spaceman.
That in your stars you roamed.

I think of the first time
You went outside in dark of night
To look at the spangled heavens
And Bathe in their magic light.

Your wide eyes saw earth’s ceiling
With a billion stars so bright.
It send your tiny heart reelling
On the clear and wondrous night.

The stars told you they loved you
Every planet star and all
But you were frightened of them
They made you feel so small.

You could not change the constellations
In the space beyond the sky.
And the feeling of being tiny
Almost made you cry.

But listen little traveler.
There’s something you must know
The minute that you were born on earth.
A new star began to glow

Windchimes
A story of lasting love
by
Jude Kyrie

At the end of a hard day’s work in our garden.
Now exhausted and resting in my chair.
Feeling the need to see your smile again
I quietly call your name.
There is no answer of course
you have been in heaven for so long.
The onset of confusion clouds my memory.
Just the jingles of the breeze on the wind chimes
answer my call.
By your chair an open book and your glasses
still remain as if you may return.
My need to see you is now overwhelming.

I seek to find you everywhere in the house.
Then I see you stood under
the large flowering rose arbor.
A basket of flowers cut from the beds
hangs from your arm.
The fading sunlight of evening now
a halo about your long hair.
My eyes mist at the vision.
So sweet so astoundingly beautiful.
So cool like the mist of summer rain
You smile at me.
The wind chimes ****** once again.

You tell me the sweet woodruff is taking over.
The hollyhocks need thinning.
And the wisteria has become overgrown.
You tell me all of these things.
But all I see is your sweet heart of purest gold.

The rose arbor framing the light of my life
Glowing as the sun
at the centre of my small universe.
I long to kneel before you
to pay homage to you.
to say to you I love you darling.
but you fade into the sparkling
remnants of the melting sunlight.
As the wind chimes lilt in the evening air
over the blossoming perfumes
of our gardens bounty

Pearls

I usually do not wear pearls.
But today is my birthday
they will stay around my neck
all through the night.
He was hopeless at presents.
He always brought
me one of course.
For birthdays,
anniversary and Christmas.
For some reason
he never got what I wanted.

It did not matter, I do not care.
He was the only gift I ever needed.
He always made me laugh
when my dark moods came.
How did he always
make me feel so beautiful?

When the illness came
he tried to hide it from me.
But I knew...I knew

Even now after all this time
I have danced
the practiced movements of love
with other impostors.

But when the dark of night
fills my bedroom
Its you honey
only you.
Only you knew how fix me.

Tonight I will sleep quietly
dreaming of you my love.
As I am wearing
your pearls for
one more time.