i stand here, in an earth’s dark

with

a black sun

screaming its storms of light

in black through i

it seems,

that i can, but;

forever just begin,

on my reach through

my body’s echo in eternity.

- jude

on visions of a mountain’s

silent swim - with the clouds

of;

winds tearing unseen

somewhere above

the line of growing

in green

the sunset rises

as colors

multiple of black

soft-eternal

snow drifts - reflecting

the clouded - moon

for light,

non-flesh hands

who pass with no command

sifting, through the sands of

standing breath

woman - how often born ...

who walks - so open in

her closed shell

before she's torn

with eyes, as flooding gates

pouring living dreams as

silent screams

across the fates

on what man

astride,

through the water-wind

she stands on the

air who bends

alone - within

as a storm stares,

wrought on the

second - which

never quite moves to pass

fasting with in grass

afire on the wind

of eternity-pure

child-woman, trying growth

dreams to be free

inside the candle

of breath -

hard city lover

she has dreamed,

as she has heard

time cross eternity

from a warm-snow

bed

wet - from her drives

song

naked fingers have

stained within my skin

sounds of sights

beyond the nights

- jude

she has never seen

the concrete

sidewalks - where so long

echoed her steps

across a city’s

eternally-shadowed-night

she has never heard her

own cries for more

through closed eyes

as his body’s sweat

ran naked between

her breasts,

of a dress black - riding

loose between she

and the wind

leaning her body to ride

clean - across

a dream’s eternal reach

as all the while, someone

shivers with cold

grabbing at names

that she may

never remain in the street

of yesterday’s stain

while no movement burns

the grass!

you take me down

as a scream on the wind -

i find fingerprints

in swell

on the motion, that i may

feel and to care

reflected through steel,

behind the call of a street

light

bare feet who bleed on concrete

a smile on your hand

who looks my way

all the plays, you say

as you walk

away

casting no shadow

for who!

but just you, to see!

as a woman, you've acted

but never lived to be -

for below all the city lights

a shadow,

lies in the

wake - of even

silent

good-byes.

- jude

drifting between streets,

sores calloused on my feet

broken mirrors

shattered

in an open path

on the lead

to nowhere

and on the sides,

they sit and stare

carrying sins, to

prove they care

frozen tears

lie on torn sheets

washed eternally clean

of red -

fading with the

dream never dreamt

just lived

into it’s death before birth

far into a morning

the sun not yet risen,

snow still fresh

as a towel unused

and a man

naked with the

cold -

wanting, alone

wandering

without a search

to warm the sand . . .

- jude

where do i go -

muddied feet, bare

skin which tares

on the; which compares realities

blood lost with the ground

as so quickly they

see it no more

with sound you can but only

hear -

a child waking eternally

shaking silent tears -

with her

young unspoken fear

they name

another name

where i go ...

a woman naked and strong

lies, that she

may wake with

the man

believing,

there is no sin?

"oh! please"

in her yearning,

of more then, the

chance of life

the wisp of a wind in freedom,

the cat's dead,

as his rotted skin

pastes blank memories

as the child barks

and rolls over

on command -

but frozen tears,

lie broken in

whose hand -

with dreams taking the

place of sand

with a group of cheers

stealing the

place of

winter approaching oceans

where i go

so;

where am i

a skinless - too often,

shell, adrift

through the silent screams

of living dreams -

grasping fingers

real into : into real

watching myself grow

that all may stand over

my grave -

as i die

and - lie!

where i go ...

- jude

 

 

 

death child,

don't you know

i've never craved your

smile

so why - still

do you reach down

onto me in shades

of a blind man’s yellow

pouring strain on

my frown -

- jude

 

 

 

trying to survive!

with water on the window

and

everything astride

all the many

faces -breathing through inside

living dreams, outside screams

of children growing old

standing still - on the empty

fill

on today in full color

beside - the monster rides

little people on the floor

making love -

to all the silent

yearnings for more

who's that knocking

at my door

the woman doesn't stop to

bleed,

as she walks hard through

the snow -

a man doesn't care - if it's so

he hears the earth ripple

as a woman’s skin

in rhyme to

destroy and begin

broken waters carry his swim -

all the love & hate

who never quite relates

while it is -

not quite is he there, while

he is, while music rocks

his stare - across the

never, not quite empty

plains of form hands -

with a woman in his home

he roams in place

sometime, what hero’s place

imagines his face

with a clown

living the mark of his birth -

so hard the

clown sneezes no more

someone trying unseen

lying

the child dying in motherless

dead skinned hands -

worn as gloves

worn by the hands

who carves as

who finds - mother-father-mother

father -

ice cream sunlight,

lost in the fight

yet returns -

for;

day - dreams

he's waiting to grow up

as he's waiting to grow down -

living off the

dreams of kings

who come riding

always by,

in shining armor

as the eye sleeps

the man creeps

and dances as a jester

the child isn't born

but;

dirtied sheets still hang

from the

windows-

a city - sill

the young man still,

the old men - trying

the old women - giving up

into nothingness -

a million feet with fingers

above

and the token face

below

humanity lost on a frozen

stream

of paper green

and the child-women

who come to go

and never grow -

the million faces drawn in

traces

we shall overcome - i speak for!

so i am

and never night -

gossip, in truth & lies

born. between the ties

a city boxes whose living -

all the living,

all the touch

between the empty tries at

aloneness

who sighs -

and the notes – relates,

never seen - but through reflections,

growing hair -

the living ,

the trying

the dying -

between love & hate stands

no one’s fate -

and why do i smile,

for my ears do -

yet who is a

smile ...

- jude

the sky tore,

a woman

her pieces -

lie in crystallized dreams

below three wintered snows

her eyes,

eternally open still

but face - frozen - dirt

packed as earth

and trees weep

in contradiction to their

birth

winds move across the

first birthday of autumn

carrying streets in the sky

where only - men do walk

no one talks while

an earth’s moon - rises always

full

and he stands still,

between the currents of CROSS -

a river,

runs hard up a mountain’s

extreme

a child - born

falls to the sky

- screams -

fearing nothing

green

as in stories

she's been told

to dream -

lightning - mates

sky and earth

in a just past scene

someone whispers,

'what is it, seen'

but no one knew what to

mean -

a pair of eternally black

eyes, peer

open through a growing storm

from a moving

scream of silence

and close, but again

- jude

 

 

 

where have;

i - met this woman

with, but no desire

except to,

retire still safe,

within the

all proud withdrawn self

a wounded i

but why -

doesn't even she dream

of eagles who fly

the sky

but where

hides those soundless

echoes - dry

on endless golden

stairs -

no screams - need be torn

when - lives her body

so long - for so far,

away

is it freedom - through

which she'll stay

as her body belongs

her i stands warm?

alone

and

no living need be

sewn

so sad, the woman

smiling all the time -

a broken trace

whole, maybe

but without a line,

to breathe

to bleed -

and, who

can the dare -

who isn't allowed to be . . .

- jude

baby faced women,

frozen by their

own crystallized stares

live so long behind those

almost blinded

windows

calling for you to care

while

up in their rooms

they're so often

never there

she'll return to me while

a wave in break freezes

in the sand a

crab sneezes

i stand alone while cold water

emptily caresses my toes

don't i know

how long will i refuse to go

i climb winded mountains

born so far

from the sea

sleeping,

to wake between trees

with no windows

but an eternal

dream

of an all open sky

i don't try

i breathe in a sight

and return -

with an empty autumn yearn

- jude

pockets filled with

nothing,

hands lost, cold - to the flame

of the air

dreams filled with empty stares

while someone

somewhere - still tries to care

with nothing to feel

standing as steel -

catching the echoes

on distance real

life being torn to

pieces

not there, maybe even close

to nowhere -

never thought i could watch her

die - slow

can i?

- jude

 

 

 

quiet voice - who never

speaks

seeks to remain

and yet

to breathe

"down on your

naked knees"

but who speaks - to her

so she sheds her

ears -

thinking she can

rest with waves

riding across the fears -

she has called into

why

and still regardless

she's running all the

way…

who - won't speak to mornings;

and disbelieves

across night

painting flat colors

across anything (but dreams)

which

in their must

cast shadows

down from candles

almost in flame

as of rocks, below

just small waters

refusing to dance still

questing, from words who'll

never stay

hoping for the

word of dreams

to play at being

real - with no toys, to crowd

a

lying feel

while

all in a moment,

she's growing too real -

walls are standing

on memories

without the trace

of living

etched into

an almost face

a woman without fingers -

reaching through

the snow

knows - the peal of living

with no place

to go

but for the painted

mirrors of

yesterday’s

try

somewhere below the sky

the evening

a moon - set soft in an

autumn’s

clouds to wind -

who;

is she

born,

for the first time,

in a cage of

glass colored steel

a woman - from

a child,

trying not to peal,

- jude

who is she

that can't accept

the truth,

of an only she

more then tree

as she is.

so, the craving is to

reach - beyond

repair - beyond the stare

of wind comparing

air

standing clear of the

nothing that always deems to be

knowing there is more

yet still reaching, eternally

though empty

sores

she, who has known reality

clings to

to the world,

where it need not be.

does she see

her child talks her free

a piece,

need not be alone

on occasional, hidden

moments

as she feels the living

of her real.

and her body craves

for more

then a child’s door

on the forever

as all too dream-fear,

of real - of

freedom

in breathing feel

but who knows, how a running

poet grows

walking on an eternity of toes,

fingering himself,

slowly

into - death, as alone

into - alone,

as death

into a dying, without rest

does he run

all for his more then dreams

to breathe - to touch.

she sews from, stains,

yet;

refuses from the living pain

of death,

seemingly, more then alone

all into the million

unseen - pieces of she

"to be,

or not,

or not,

or not."

- jude

the poet!

plays the man

the jester

the lover

the giver of

breathing sights

as he is,

that he – must - drink from

the cup, of

energy alive

with lips

who are fingers

who is the throat

of breath,

from which he

breathes - his need,

to survive

the man - who the poet is.

wants! - dreams

only - for the freedom

who need he breathe,

that he is alone

standing where -

no one, has

yet

to find - through

the will of their

own strength

who sees the poet as a man

who draws onto him, a hand

he never shows

"with a life of wings

i, mate

with the wind

alone through eternity

attune to the need, of

only what is

as only am i

to be found in the wind

as beyond time,

living

somewhere, you hear

but only

a single piece

from an eternity of parts

thinking it whole, or wanting

you fear

i'm wanting you to be

when you are not.

the poet’s man

lost his child

on the need

of being his,

on the freedom of,

on the truth of being

his, I …

as would - will, he

trade his life, to remain

bleeding his self - with the sky.

- jude

as, the birth of a woman tries

she clasped the earth,

within her hands

staring - lost through herself

where lied a dock

polished into reflections

lightning burnt &

real

cracked into complexity,

solid

once young

once old

suddenly, from where

but she -

bearing mirrors

before her caves, below

the trees

images of a woman,

demanding into life

and though weaned,

on;

the wind

her flesh has won

and as she flexes her

fingers,

she'll watch

leaves - blow

upward - into sun

rained - sight

her hand

carrying time into night

as, possibly her flight will

hold -

against those colors

growing sight into cold

into light

lantern feeding, leading

on the taming of eternity's dream

what need, be there

on the crossing of river stones -

of;

eternity's scream

(yes, what need

be there,

when eternity

screams

quiet) - ?

while her man, learns to

dance within

her breathing hand . . .

eternity dreamed into

time

will answer

rhyme,

an almost

as;

a find

while,

who is -

the poet,

learning through the wind

occasionally smiling -

as occasionally, lying with truth…

a - the birth

of a woman

tries

- jude

as may,

silent earth run river waters

quiet the - scream

a-place to lean

from

into the - every distant

self

a woman

her mouth enclosed

her bath water worn warm

drifts

between two feels

of wanting real,

forgetting, and never

she

walks by frosted mirrors

approaching the square root

of;

negative two

believing while ,

something dies

for the irrational

multiplied

holds no compromise -

across

real and a dream of love

the;

non-quiet silent man

lives the cry

through her try -

not,

as all touched,

on his mountain

alone

while, somewhere hidden

by light - waits,

only fingers

free

as a child grown too old

in her own room

growing cold - through warmth

so,

the poem grows

bold -

"be, please and not!" whose silence asks

on a duality

she never quite means

never hearing

where only

the poet is

and can be

as only is the poet

a child turning through birth,

a woman, clinging to the love of a

man -

still hears the tears

now,

though silently

running free -

but streams

swallowing trees!

until,

smiling tears

burn -

knowing not hope

not fears

but

an eternal there

non-real care

for a child in quiet rain

as he

is never,

simply there . . .

- jude

so easy to say good-by -

ignoring the walk

of broken glass

on nowhere street

and so young, you need

never pay

the price of age

yes quietly

on nowhere street

need no time, loose

cornered and lost

in defeat

while having a

share

on nowhere street

as perhaps, it’s windows never

call

and it’s cobblestone bricks

need never fall

through one to the sky

but;

who receives, those

hidden quirks

yes

from nowhere street

freedom is a name

played in the rain -

water,

comparing only for the

washing of stain

- - -

?

- - -

rivers, as streams

mingle with feet

water conducts,

ignoring retreat

meetings never seen -

still grow - green

in between

as ice broken,

melts

eroding rocks

as the pouring flows

leaning seers,

as pressure gains

for beyond

the rains

live, the quirks

in nowhere street

still -

in so -

sand is owned by the

wind -

an eternal blow

who erases

the meet …? Retreat !

is time’s eye

onto,

nowhere street …

(doesn’t matter, for I live on nowhere street)

- jude

 

 

 

 

snow screen warmth,

and dreams -

given the chance

breathe

all too real

of pieces

turning round,

as falling grains of

sand -

a living, feel -

falling

sliding

colliding

into -

but all the flames

of

nothingness…

?

"eternity

demands - hard,

on the call of names"

quiet,

on the empty trying,

weary - long from

the eternal,

tearless crying

open palms

so often filled

with colorless

tears -

- - -

controlling all her life -

turning hard into names controlling

she

fearing,

the maybe - who is the

nature of real

while living alone

on it’s fingers

and though she - reaches

she; never quite asks

for more

for;

nothingness, will always fade

as

real, demands alive

with demands to die

breathing colors -

who never accept

a lie -

but

of the lie of truth

coming real

living so near the line,

with edges so thin

where to end,

where

to begin!

still:

eternity, a demanding find -

- - -

with nothing solid,

and too much real

and;

nothing matters

for they do

and they will

nothing to see

nothing to hear

yet something breathing

something to fear,

somewhere to care

on the nothings there

tired -

with nothing real

and too much solid

broken in pieces

in that mirror of glass -

does anyone last

- - -

somewhere, yes

but beyond mirrors ...

- jude

so long ago

and ever so close -

somewhere, oh! those ice tearing

tears

will never die

said good-bye

and

couldn't.

earth!

why,

- jude

autumn dying,

winter trying

standing behind a

window against the cold -

oh, grow old at the almost

reflection

i see, of myself

a lone night

the sky's in white

while,

the wind roams

without a hand

in sand

something can

but i'm tired

and glad to be alone

a thousand good-bys -

behind, somewhere awaiting

tries

but a moment please!

to die

to be ...

- jude

across tomorrow!

slow water walker

dreamt too long

on his last

step - slipped

and of course

drowned -

all without a sound

at least heard

bird man tries to fly

even reaches a mountain

by route of

the sky

saw the mountain -

and deeply sighed

as, there

he died -

a face found within the

dust of a

window pane

it’s eyes searching

out, into the rain

for a

reflection -

but finds only,

still the dust -

leaves, falling to rust

across an autumn

stall

dirt lied

loose

against those planks of

wood -

covering ground

where no one

has ever stood

only lied

across the void -

how often, need today, die

across - tomorrow !

- jude

caught a glimpse of me

yet,

who will never see

string tied fingers

in a cradles light

dreams are allowed only

in flight

or night

melted plastic remains unchanged

but falls to the ground

all the same

as carbon into carbon

returns back

to the earth

a woman's beauty,

ever found

ever given

and never there

a nowhere now

trails before itself

along streets, but

never crossed

tossed with care

a salad is eaten

yet, always yesterday’s

fare

a woman followed

to find a meeting

leaving herself

behind

and no one minds - if rivers

are left for

forgotten garbage

sweeps

but what seeps

in movement unseen

- jude

soundless windows

open and close

as, for a moment

she almost rose

to glimpse a nowhere sky

just on the horizon

from somewhere

wisps of willows

weeping tall

fondle seeds to the wind -

forgets

but never the silence -

torn glass walls

his body stands

and on moments -

too much sand

eases onto the

floor -

filling the air heavy

pulling him so

far down

till he must

wake, into

a nowhere rhyme

distorted to time

searching he must find

to breathe

and there in an open

hand

blood stained fingerprints

clay black the sand

burn walks into windows

open -

- - -

or closed!

- jude

frozen waters, roll with waves

no more

where salt doesn't lie

sand,

shall pry nothing loose

a coral shore

tears ice into puddles

lost to a sun pained

wind

death reels across a filmed

sequence

while ice cream castles

laughing in her hand

drips to dust,

flaking as rust

onto the bust,

shadowed in a

corner

beside walks - too steep

all the closet doors

open to darkness

and pictures

of spoken smiles

miles more

too many miles more

she almost wants to scream

be torn and die

but it's too soon

always too soon

- - -

always too late

?

metal breaks - wind takes

fingers clutch

while the moon,

never escapes

it’s eternal need

a seed struggles

but still flies

while a castle in glass

waits a moment more

forever -

behind the screams of

never-more,

a knight

without armor,

stands alone

on a tower’s floor

and while leaves are taught

to smile

the tree leans to weep

only willows, embrace

the sky -

- jude

rainbow sky

why do you even try

painting amber dreams

to a mid-day turn

chasing storms away

you parade

arching open doors

seemingly into freedom

but who can reach

to touch that

who is never there

and all the faces loved

who could never pay the

price,

of being

seen -

almost trace across the

moment

it's an autumn’s air

with all it’s wind torn

cares

and nothing comes in pairs

but frozen dreams

oh - rainbow crown,

you murder our scream’s

sound

only to fade into

the void of your

own being

once tomorrow dares to

remember

broken ground -

on a rainbow’s sand -

an autumn’s night -

sleeps

just before

a winter’s morning

so -

stand for a moment

and feel my fingers

who touch upon

your hand

for -

as with a rainbow’s belief

all does fade

ever? do we see

that point a-color

with the sky

without a try

for

trying buries nothingness

into a winter’s

frozen scream!

- jude

 

 

 

and sometimes -

so ever often

even the walls,

quiver with

the eternal falls

of dying sound

a million no bodies -

trying

on nothings

no one's there

and you're so close

to them,

a heart beats nervously

between your

fingers

a smiling face

a soft smell

is gentle to the

air - while;

freezes stains

eternally

on the move

- jude

cold wind

through an open window,

feeling at my feet

a full moon

alight behind a dense band

of night-grey clouds

echoes - a somewhere in

full retreat

nothing reaches on my arms

hanging lifeless, with nowhere

to go

an empty weight

sleeps heavily,

across the breast of

my chest

defeat, without

a war

demands too much more

tarot cards, spreading

themselves out

against

a green rugged

floor

and there between

the hermit

and a reversed star

is eternally placed

the

six of cups

between there

and when

a dying bleeds once again

somewhere - stands within

a wave’s wash of distance

resistance swallowing her

whole

motions to me

as of she is there

speaking with silence,

frost-bitten feet don't

run - across frozen wastes

when factory warmth

believes in repair -

comparing walls against the

void

who could dare

to wear

against time

but;

do legs learn

as feet grow numb!

- jude

so easy ; or, so hard -

to feel close

and - to feel nothing

yes, nothing

no demanding weight

no broken dreams

through which to

relate

and from nowhere

need there be

escape

to come and go as you please

and the need,

but seems to recede

or concede

to what deems

reality to be

i am

for i am not

am i ? …

"she asks"

- jude

caught in a broken

glass rain

yes - the blood smearing

pain

how, only allowed to

be

and the more i see

find my fingers no where

to be ? !

would the joy ride

if a mirror could hide

fingers staking out

a piece of time

glass without, the

broken pain

for a moment past

but a moment real

for a moment dreamt

but a moment who will feel

smiling on the forever gone

would on eternal steel

but can trees find,

they are more

and remain

yet if they are

all is far

as all is here

-duality-

though,

what screams are

eternally swallowed

across this door

of fear

where something isn't clear

yet the distance;

between

real and what is

always free to be,

and never more -

a wind’s command

the reflection of sand -

knowing,

always knowing

the door into nowhere street

and is the sand of meeting

feet

a dream

a scream

tears who yearn

for ground

but never sound

need only be . . .

are whys born unseen

into green

only

below the

meeting tree

of nowhere street -

- jude

i passed her, once - when i

was young

and running

tearing against the

edges of the world

all on the scream,

in need to be

and she danced a

game - as if all was the

same - and rain is a

toy - from which

the children hide

she called out

but not my name

and i walked on -

was she beautiful, - yet i

couldn't see

as if she didn't mean to be

but somewhere, i

heard a dream of stain -

pour as rain

lost, yet never -

the poet aware

astride a surge of care

but on nothing real,

could he but swallow

his silent stare

to live on - a little

more worn,

a little more torn

wanting his nowhere,

a man strides

while silently the poet cries -

faced across a door

a paper-man,

remembered - the still

hearing more

turned,

to lie open upon the floor

because

again the poet

faced,

a breathing sound

turning an empty ground

a female still playing

now with names

and dreams of peace

yes, empty release

imagery of real

lost to all - but a poet’s

feel

and he, could only

dream for more

as he filled his store

cared - onto

the empty door

while a man

waited to walk

along

to live on - a little

more worn,

a little more torn

wanting his nowhere

a man strides

while silently the poet cries -

yet still again

on the chance of womanhood

on the chance alive

she spoke to him when,

asking his voice

and paper stain

for reflections beyond

the rain

the poet - deeply grown

recently thrown

lives her

through the floor

shattering the door

while the man watches

through her pane glass

walls

which keeps her tall,

waiting,

to walk along -

to live on - a little

more worn,

a little more torn

wanting his nowhere

a man strides

while silently the poet cries

she spoke and he turned

did she - did he

the poet; the man

a woman touched him

for suddenly she

was a woman - alone inside

moving alive,

but to yearn against the pane-glass

wall;

but to feel into real,

below the edge of

light, the poet

bleeds on her touch,

as does the man

wanting across the sand

to touch

on her dreams to

be;

to be free

to touch she,

before the poet as the man

must wander on

recoiling from

the world of pane-glass-walls,

to live on - a little

more worn

a little more torn -

wanting his moment of real

a man strides

while silently the poet

resides,

- jude

woman,

if you had the freedom,

i'd

love you till

you,

said good-bye!

- jude

deep and quiet in her sleep

long - upon

a plane of worlds

breathing alive

and anywhere inside

fetus in body form

yet lost along corridors

with a stirring storm

to belong

funny - when she

doesn't ask

lasts alone and along

to drift within

a matching song -

to easy ?

but she

freedom to be

maybe beautiful

lying so far away, from

them all

and close -

just like a woman

in child dress,

that i might even

touch you,

and you wouldn't

run -

waking so slow

hurting and so . . .

when;

nothing will show -

to soar, as maybe

even grow -

but glowing with light never

seen

time turns just not to

mean

tonight is

as another day

and awake

who might say!

- - -

and when she screams

no one fears

no one dares to die

or fares on evil,

when they must -

she dreams

- jude

woman,

but not that i want you

as not that i don't

as strangely there

is no lust for you -

yet of me you are

and;

to sleep in touch with you

i would -

on what i hear

but for the

walls of time

you mind

so i smile on knowing

an energy so - alive

- jude

leaves, long dead come running

on winter’s head

roll with a silent wind

begin and end

across that open lot

where in a moment

it seems time forgot

i rise from sleep,

where morning is

quiet - as if death

no longer rides

herd

and a sky flickers with

words, ever so soft -

needing to say

but nothing on the

anything ride -

has my rock faced

smile - broken

where all the no ones would see

nothing to believe

where anything born

is so rarely retrieved

while a man is never relieved

winter is in season

but on an autumn flame -

she barely has

a name

yet she is breaking in try

all the same -

i'm torn with pieces

with nowhere to show

but when i'll

crave for trees

i'll just get snow -

we are children of autumn

tied with winter stains -

- jude

in pieces,

the glass fetuses

strewn across the floor

a naked woman

hidden by a coroner

shadow - cries for

more

blood increases in pour

her child whisper’s fear

so far away in the distance

while her any man

sweeps

away without any refrain on

her living pain

dance in place

believable

for a while

a single tree smile

all going nowhere

yet all caught

nameless she tries

as,

nameless she wantingly lies

confiding where one need

never speak - ?

or possibly seek

but she peeks

from somewhere

there on the floor

wondering

that a wind-sewn

poem - lover

might also scream

as he doesn't -

fearfully into dying -

child’s scared of trying

yes - sunflower-night-care;

- jude

come over to this wooden table

sometime-woman,

lean your fingertips

with all those words -

your - poetry

fears, to hold -

i'm an old man

wrinkling onto the

walls

of my care

say good-bye

if you must

run from your soul’s lust

but maybe

give to me

when you are mine -

broken walls - just beyond

the dreams,

of calls

speak

those hidden words

who leak

across a moon’s! dusk-light

we meet at night

with sight

while day

still bites across

bending waves of here

into,

an unspoken dilemma

of where

but why

die! for the grave is mine

yet -

live my moment in

try -

broken walls,

just beyond - the dreams

of calls ?

- jude

eternally in stay

a snow which is drifting

from sky and from ground

nights who move into

day

to turn it around

sights are peeling like

lights in the winter

while mountains are

dreaming,

in white-storm-freedom

time's the play

to an underside

eternally in stay -

for loving, and turning

a little man with yearning

hard fingers, on a hard glass wall

there are calls and falls

yet winter has no

edge

with narrow straights

and rivers bleeding

the poet roams

seeding his eyes

and tears on his shadows

screams, match footprints

beneath the rain -

no breaking, of faking

forsaking all sighs

sparrows ride on

the wind

whispers in try,

pieces aren't simple

yet - neither are they whole

and loving leaves ripples

into the breathing

of a soul

his soul isn't rock

or a broken tree

across smiles

across pain

beneath frozen snow

rivers

who flow

moving is the

only loving

he knows

a sometime-woman,

wandering near

owns smiles

like snow flowering in a tree

owns fingers

as water eternally craving to be

owns eyes

caverns of stain

on living color rain

owns me

and nothing, autumn blows

free -

is loved ;

till she'll die

without try or even touch

no names of friendship

or such

for somewhere below a

surface of flesh -

are breathing sounds

who meet and

mesh -

a sometime woman

is alive for no reason

and many

for the soul is of feeling

where someone can be

time's the play

to an underside,

eternally in stay.

- jude

touch her

to drink of who is she listening to her

no, not the woman

but just someone alive

leaning in a place who

could easily be free -?-

who is she

i ask

and ask aside walls

a man, not wanting

to be

but a poet who dreams to see

to touch her

to drink of who is she

i find a scream

almost frightened dream

bleeding unseen

so i want,

i ask - to see

i tear open places

but from me

to lean inside

attune

alive

belonging to no one,

but i

a lie, maybe in ride

and not

yet never within

it begins

then asks

into,

who is she

she opens fingers -

i touch a flame

of ocean fire

afraid to move

yet maybe -

with, nowhere to go -

just wanting to see

as there is no

need to be

- - -

for no reason -

but she is heard,

i lean -

only ; on

who is she -

yes, just

to smile,

in a world

of

rocks

simply breaking

into nothingness -

- jude

merry christmas,

no one -

and to, no one,

a goodnight ,

so !

- jude

crumple a poem,

half written

within fingers

tightly yearning through sweat

scream toward a wall

predisposing on a

no one to hear

watch snow, fall into water

vapored before the ground -

i'm roaming through the

sand of christmas -

never quite finding

a door -

as anything near

or anything more -

i might know a woman

she might know me

yet on a day of belonging -

the moon

must release the sea,

open trees, a wind breeze

a strain of words

trail ahead

holding tightly

between i and

an echo,

tomorrow ever wide

dividing on

everything who might be there

till nowhere

leaning on the edge of

someone

christmas almost

- - -

so what can i say -

it's the breathing

of the day

and I -

just no poems,

will stay . . .

- jude