MURDER BOOK: I Just Killed a Man (in the book...in the damn book)

     Whenever I make bold statements in writing such as "I just killed a man" I feel as if I need to further clarify that I am a novel (fiction) writer and that killing people is something I do quite often. I never take my actual hostilities out in the real world. I promise. I'm truly one of the most law-abiding souls you'll find. I will however, if you piss me off, send you flying over the side of a cliff and then have some random stray dog piss in your face allowing the scratches and the bug bites to be naturally disinfected...in writing. In the pages of a book that may or may not be published.

    I am going to take a breather and eat dinner before returning to the book. I'm really so close to finishing it that I think it would be best to get back into the grove this evening and do that. I am at 74,000 words and I think the book will be around 80,000 so yeah, I'm there. I will also go back through it and take things out that don't need to be there. I will add stuff, fluff stuff, mix in about 3,899 more adjectives and if that's not enough, I'll find a way to make it really pop using more. I love a good adjective. I really should have considered using more than just the word "good" to describe that fact. Oh, well.

   I just pulled the trigger in the truest of ways possible in the book, not in real life, and ended the life of an amazing soul. He was in fact, one of my favorite characters and the purpose of letting him go see Jesus was because if I loved him the chances are that my readers will love him too; they'll be so very very upset with the bad guy that they will find themselves standing on the edge of their seats, not sitting on them, so they can assist in the capture of the bastard!  How could that guy die? NOOOOOOOOO...but he did.

    I'm over here crying because I have to arrange a funeral now. Actually, I'll probably end up glazing over it, and mentioning it, but not actually staging one. I only have about 6000 more words to go, and if I use them up talking about the different lives the man touched, or the cases he worked, I'll likely be there for two chapters and have to ditch the Scott Monument scene - - who would want to do that? Well, as it stands, it is now just after Christmas in 1929, all is not well in the City of Edinburgh, but they are making headway on these murders and they do have a few suspects and bad guys in custody. It may be time to plan Hogmanay!!

    Oh, look at the time. I have to run. I'm about to dine well with the kid and then get back to the grind. On a VERY VERY good note, and I'll blog about this tomorrow, I am happy to say that "Of Kilted Pleasure" has been corrected and is back up for sale. I ordered two today.  Woot!!  I made 10 corrections. It did cost me $25, but so very worth it. YEA.

See you soon! Next time I'll be able to tell you that the book is fully written and ready to be tweaked.  

Photo Credit:Four Guests, USA.

MURDER BOOK 85% Finished.

     I think by now, ya'll know that when I say it's finished, I mean the ink is on the paper so to speak, but it's not anywhere near done. Nope. I'm 85% finished with writing the book, but now I'll need to go back and fluff and stuff it. I've been doing a bit of fluff and stuff along the way, to be honest, but I do and will need to go through it chapter by chapter, literally line by line to open it up, fill in the blanks, make changes, and create a more flowy-flowy atmosphere for my characters. I can't believe all the mistakes I make when I write. Just like when I write blogs. I find 10-20 mistakes and either go back and change them, or I leave them in and say phooey...get it next time. I can't do that with the books.

    With "Of Kilted Pleasure" I'm dealing with the creators at the publishing house to allow me to resubmit the old PDF with corrections without charging me more than just a small revision fee. It's sort of like asking the wind to stop blowing in Oklahoma, but there are times when you can. It's hard to get these people to even get off their duff to assist; they don't do phone assistance, only email  -- so it's a complete and unnecessary waste of time! But, in the end, if they can do it for me, I know I won't make the same mistake with the Murder Book; or any other book for that matter. NOPE, never again.

    I am now 85% finished if I am going with the goal of 80,000 words for the manuscript. I have 68,000+ words now. I'm on Chapter Thirty-Four and it's going to be a catch-up chapter. It's an intel chapter in that it is written to inform the reader about the past, current events, and the things to come. It sets up situations and puts some things to rest. Nick will have a telephone call from Edinburgh to Oklahoma City; wishing his family back home a very Merry Christmas. He'll explain Hogmanay to the folks back home, he'll tell them what all he's been up to, but leave some of the scary parts out so his mom doesn't worry.  He'll be asked a few questions, and that will be the setup part. The audience will hear his mom ask about so-and-so, and this or that; Nick has to explain to her, and thus the audience, what will happen.

    I feel like I have four or five chapters to go. If they are all about 2500 words, it makes perfect sense. It's getting really good. One bad guy was caught, but he wasn't that bad. The next one was caught, she's bad, and won't get away with anything. The one coming up will be a challenge for sure; he's really sleazy and a bit greasy as well. That's a clue, but you don't know that. We'll see what happens to him. For that matter we'll both see because I've not got it all worked out in my head yet, so it's not worked out on the computer either. This thing lives, it breathes, and I work with it. I don't tell it what to do.

    I may throw a Scottish recipe for something in the book just for fun. MacRae may have to have his girls help him prepare a little something something for the holidays. The next few chapters will be written this weekend. I'll have the book completed as far as the word count goes by Sunday night. I'll spend next week reading it, going through it, and making changes. I'll take the next week to correct that. I'll wait two more weeks, re-read it, find more errors, and finalize it. So, by August the book will be ready to send to the publisher. Sounds good.

    I'm not going to spend a lot of time, effort, or money on the cover of the book since it's a murder book, and I'll have several to follow in a series. I'll be sure to have an art deco-style front since it takes place in 1930, but it won't be anything too spectacular. I won't spend money on it. I need to publish more books. If they sell then maybe I'll go back and redesign the covers. You just never know. There's so much that a person can do nowadays with self-publishing. I am not a graphics person, but others are and for a very cheap price I can get something created if I need to.

    OK, so that's it, I'll be writing tomorrow and all weekend. I'll keep you posted.

Photo Credit: BuyBackdrop.com

Kind of Keto. Not Quite.

 I've done this before, but now, I'm doing it a little differently. I'll explain. I am not the type of person to go on a diet and just starve myself or do things I wouldn't want to do on a regular basis. I'm not going to drink lemon water with cayenne pepper and vinegar to make myself thinner (maybe) but at the same time, create such an acid response in my body that I make myself sick. It is NOT worth it. 

    There is a powder out there called MCT or something. I tried it, and then my dumb ass decided to overdose myself (accidentally) and I ended up feeling sicker than I have in so many years. I think I relate it to the time I over-smoked a really fat, rich cigar without knowing that a person who doesn't ordinarily smoke them shouldn't do that. Both times, I was flat on my belly in bed, with my head about to fall off. I was just gone. It could not have been...well, maybe it could have been worse, but I don't ever want to find out if it can be. I was SICK.

    So, the lemon water is fine. I'll do that all day, and by that I mean literally all day I can do that.  I can put a lime in my water too, and be really happy. The thing that I have the most trouble with is not sugar. I can quit sugar like no other. I have. I do so much less sugar now than I have ever done. I still have sweets. I just use monk fruit instead of granulated sugar; it's literally sweeter than sugar, has zero calories, and there are no side effects. Why the UK has all but banned it, I don't know. Well, I  do know actually, they say they don't have enough evidence; so maybe in time, they will sell monk fruit there as well.

    The hard thing for me is bread. Doing without pasta is OK, doing without potatoes is good. I can do that. I can do the other things too; things Keto diets say are bad for you. I can eliminate them, but bread seems to kick my butt. I find myself trying to return to it. I've gone 7 days now without it though. It's hilarious. I tend to go on these kicks of mine where I swear by all things I need to swear by that I'm going to stop eating bread, but it comes the day after I bought a whole loaf, or a can of biscuits, or something. No. I am doing this. I've been doing this. The can of Grands is still in the fridge and I have to find someone to give them to. 

    My best friend's birthday was June 22 and my birthday is November 22. I'm going on a bread fast from June 22 to November 22 to see what if any changes I can see. I'm also eating better, exercising, drinking lemon water, and being an overall good person to myself, but the bread thing slays me; I need strength!! I am also giving up cereal, but not oatmeal or grits.  The oatmeal I eat is steel cut, and I eat it with walnuts, cranberries, cinnamon, and a bit of heavy cream. Good for me. Grits are the same, but I do the monk fruit and walnuts, and honey with them. 

    If you ask me, and some do, I think that making decisions for myself is easier than making them for someone else. I don't ask permission usually, I just do what needs to be done. When I make decisions for others, I need to either be over them personally, like when my kids were of minority age, or I need to be their guardian owner, such as I am for Ginger my dog. I do, and I will make decisions about what Ginger will or will not eat. She truly doesn't get a say in the matter. She really (probably) doesn't even realize she may have the option to do so. Making the decision for myself is just easier.

    I need to lose a huge amount of weight (not really, but it is to me) so that when I step off the plane in Edinburgh next summer I won't be ginormous or cause any scenes. I hate causing scenes. I do. It's just so...brazen. Well, I don't mind a little brazen, but I don't want to be fat when I do that. I want to be healthy, fit, and happy so I can walk the streets, climb the hills, keep up with my friends, and fully enjoy myself. I am currently making plans to visit next summer before Hurricane season, but the friend who says she'll go with me is likely to back out; if I'm honest. I don't mind, I can do the trip solo; again.

    Kind of Keto is how I describe my diet when I'm asked. I am heavy on egg protein, meats, and cheeses. I load up on fruits and veggies, and my trail mix is 100% fantastic and wonderful. I tend to stay clear of desserts, but I do have them; just not with sugar. I eat yogurt, usually Greek plain, with honey, and again, walnuts and cranberries. You'd think I'd be fit already; damn it, I should be. I have no idea why the body refuses to read the scientific evidence online; so it can just do what it's supposed to do. C'mon, body!! Geez.

    Day 7 of the no-bread thing.  I'm earning my stripes.

Photo Credit: Wikipedia

MURDER BOOK: 78% Written

 OBVIOUSLY, I am making an assumption if I say that with 62,839 words written of my new book, I am at the 78% mark. I don't know what the end word count will be, and I'm using a basic guideline of 80,000 words. I think the last book I wrote was just shy of 80,000 so it seems like a good number to choose. I may be 100% wrong. I may be writing on this dang thing for a while, but there will come a time when I tell myself that enough is enough, and the characters will need to hold their breath until I can release them into the first of several follow-up books. They'll be thrilled.

    One of the fun fun fun parts of the books is writing the historical parts where I can really get into it and find cool facts that I think people will want to know about. I use Wikipedia of course, and in some cases, I use my own personal memories regarding what I know about this or that. This book, takes place in 1930, in both the United States as well as the United Kingdom; I'm not sure I have much to offer in terms of personal memory. Luckily for me, my son was in a movie that was a 1930s period film, and though it was filmed in Oklahoma's city of Guthrie in Logan County, it was supposed to look as if it was taking place in New York City. The costumes, the automobiles, and all the glitz and glamour, were just amazing. 

    Today, I had the honor of writing four chapters of the book. They sort of just rolled out of me. Mostly fluff pieces, as I am about to write a more down and gritty action scene where the good guys corner a killer and she is captured in the most unique way, I need to say that I have enjoyed just letting the information flow out of me and on to the pages. When I write fluff and stuff, I tend to just go with whatever is in my head, and after I read it, I make needed changes; honing it up, shoring it up, to create the needed setup for the critical pieces.  It can't all be car chases, and shoot-em-ups, right? Or in Roy Roger's case, neck break horse chases and shoot-em-ups. There have to be some lulls and ebbs to support the flows and tides.

    I made the decision today to make the good man who dies have a real purpose and a true romantic backstory. The reader will miss him, be upset at this falling, and want true revenge for his killer. It should be that way. We should hate the bad guys enough to want to see them get their justice!  Still, even as I'm writing the last words of the good man, I am secretly whispering in his ears that he's not really going to die, he's going to a fictional ever-after where he'll wait for his true love to arrive in due time. I may mention him from time to time, bringing him another wave of admiration from my readers. This guy deserves admiration. He put in the years. He made the road easier for those who came behind him - - I can't say more without giving it away.

    Funny, as I'm writing this blog I chanced to glance at my keyboard. Keep in mind this is a NEW keyboard that goes with my  NEW computer. Already, and it's been less than 3 months, certain keys have been completely worn down, and rubbed off, and the lights from the LED base on the keyboard are glaring at me! E, A, S, D, C, V, N, M, L, and the period key are all gone. The left Shift and the Space bar have issues as well. That's hilarious. Oh well, they all work, I don't need to see what the letters are to know where to put the tips of my fingers. It will make my friend a bit nervous t though when she comes over; she hates not being able to know what keys to use. She doesn't need them, but not being able to see them will freak her out. She's gonna love the book - - I'm not letting her read it until it's 100% finished. She'll read it before it's published, but not until the curtain falls...actually after the curtain falls, but that's another clue you'll have to find out about; read the book when it comes out.

Photo Credit: Reddit

POEMS BY JUDE (all poems are copyrighted)

 Kaleidoscope

 

His grey eyes fixed on mine

Not understanding my heart

Not comprehending my reason

 

He asked, and I listened

"How can you love me?

How could you even?"

 

Words were there but lost

Between my gaze and soul

Words were not enough

 

"I'm broken, he said.

Completely without anything

I'm not who you think I am"

 

"You are broken," I answered

"Not like an umbrella 

One would cast away if so,

 

"You are broken like stained glass

Which after it is gathered

Becomes a Kaleidoscope"

 

 

- Jude Stringfellow 

December 10, 2022

 

Raku 

 

Choosing to love him was not my choice 

The fire broke everything I believed I controlled 

The air that surrounded me disappeared 

I was left to smolder in the coals 

 

Formed, I was. Treated as mere thick clay 

Never giving my consent, only shown the end 

Told, more than asked. I was led, I was worked 

Milled and shaped, pounded even, hardened 

 

Why me God? I beg to know Your mind 

Why should I continue rolling in searing flame 

To become the pot, the vase, the urn? 

Will You use me then? Will I hold? Embrace? 

 

You are the Potter. I am your clay. I know this 

You choose, I listen. You will, I bow 

The prayers, the time, the years, the faith 

I understand You’ve planned, I follow 

 

Until the last pyre I remain incomplete 

Knowing there will be blessings, I agree 

Knowing he needs me to continue  

To lift his soul through the pain of my own firing 

 

You are the Potter. I am your clay. 

My destined colors will forge with time 

Your strength is given in my making  

I am who You have decided to create  

 

If my mission is to pray, I bow my head 

Your command is well within my power 

Power given by the One and accepted in whole 

Raku me. To be the vessel You desire 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

April 9 2022 

 

Entreated 

  

What colors do I see? 

When I think of you? 

Could there be a shade 

Sweet enough to be expressed? 

 

Am I bound by a veil so lovely 

At the very sight of you? 

Are you captured by my  

Heart’s eyes – unimaginable? 

 

What sound is it that I hear 

As your voice dances on air? 

As your presence leans upon 

My soul to rest. 

 

How I am lured by the melody 

By the symphony, by the lyrics 

By the chords played evenly 

By our hands. 

 

What anchors my very being 

To the thought of you each time? 

Each time I am drawn without force 

Held captive by music, by love. 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow

March 26, 2022 

 

Him

 

I could tell you that I love you

Or maybe write it in a poem

I could wrap my arms around you

Or whisper a sweet hymn

 

Will you ever truly be mine

Is my soul to ever rest

My joy is the hope

My happiness – your bliss

 

Could I mention you in passing

Would it be of any use

I’m not sure if you could love me

So why go through the hurt

 

I could tell you that I love you

Or let the days pass on

I could be there when you need me

If that is all you want.

 

I wear the mask completely

No one would ever know

I must be like a sidekick

I may even be a joke

 

I could tell you that I love you

Would you even hear

Could you ever understand

My heart is not my friend

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow

November 29, 2020.

 

Empyrean  

 

One, two, three, four, 

One, two, three – fly 

I chase the illusion 

Dream – fantasize 

 

Drawn to the velvet 

Thick the motions scroll 

Clear floating breezes 

Line my heart’s soul 

 

Oh, do I see him 

Is he here – just there 

Dance for me, kind king 

Spin your servant fair 

 

Long I’ve dreamt to find you 

Entice, come near I pray 

Take my hand, my every breath 

Give your strong embrace 

 

Drawn to this, my trance 

An escape to be with you 

If only in my visions 

Until a day so new 

 

So new with its beginning 

Unearthed and set above 

Heaven holds my waiting 

How dare I mention love 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow

November 29, 2021 

 

Reflections of the Eve 

 

Pure, the echoed silence 

Forced to hold its breath 

Gently pricks my soul 

I resign to your request 

 

Touch, creating motion 

Heat moves now within 

Strong and so assuring 

Flow, caress, we bend 

 

Embrace the swollen air between us 

Let it linger through the night 

Tantalizing spirits  

Radiant as light 

 

Your kiss, my cadence 

Trails between my lips 

Your mouth an endless river 

Deep and sensuous 

 

Stay with me forever 

Day through night we live 

Devotion is your heart’s beat 

Ardor is your gift 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow

November 29, 2021 

 

 

Shut Off – Shut Down 

 

I look at you, I see your walls. 

So many varied bricks 

 

Layered injuries stacked inside 

Hardened over time 

 

I think I see or feel a way 

A way to guide you through it 

 

I hurt to hope and wish I knew 

A path to show your mind’s heart 

 

You don’t deserve the world today 

You’ve paid your dues in spades 

 

Each stone upon the other paves 

Protecting you from freedom 

 

If prayers were chisels – only if 

To break through would be best 

 

The sorrow bound within your eyes 

Reflects my prayers for rest 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow

November 26, 2021 

 

Amethyst Sky 

 

I lay beneath Heaven at her dusk 

Hues too vast to hold 

Lifts of pale blue, turning mauve 

Eventide sings his song 

 

Grace, for an hour, accompany me 

Teach me to be still 

Patient evening bear with me 

Let conscience guide your will 

 

Share all manner of meditation 

Finesse and poise my thought 

Ease your gentle-mannered ways 

Through my senses, giving hope 

 

Ornate vault of heaven, gloss 

Your hours of colors pass 

Amethyst blankets hold each star 

In place, in time, en masse 

 

Sleep begins her soft barrage 

Inviting me to dance 

Invasion of the sweetest sort 

Two steps and I am gone 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow

July 24, 2021

 

You 

 

 

How can I sleep when 

Fairies are dancing  

When the keys of your piano float 

 into the sky? 

 

How will I dream when  

Your touch lingers in my soul 

Your fingers tickle my very breath 

            Each stroke new 

 

Where will my slumber take me 

“Dancing on the Light?”  

“I’m Missing You Now” 

 

Touch is deeper than your kiss 

Air becomes my song 

Music, coursing through my veins  

            I want you. 

 

Slowly drifting, slink into one 

Our bodies feeling every note 

No words, soft saxophones cry 

            We are one 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

July 5, 2021

 

My Jesus 

 

Grace, grace, God’s grace 

Grace, I don’t deserve 

I peer upon the King’s face 

And to know I’m heard 

 

I come to God’s throne 

With bended knee so low 

I can know He’ll always 

Welcome me back Home. 

 

Faith, faith, God’s faith 

Faith abundant, free 

Held within my heart’s heart 

I know that He loves me 

 

Never will I understand  

The price He paid that day 

Why a King would leave His throne 

To end up in the grave. 

 

Erupting from the grips of death 

To put it all to rest 

No other name lives on and on 

The King, my King, Jesus. 

 

Praise, praise, God’s praise 

Blessings I will sing 

Endless days of singing 

Endless love He gave 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

June 5, 2021

 

Dolor Dream 

 

When you are close, I lose control 

"Hold me”, (I wish), no, don’t stare 

Protest escaping into dream  

Only dusk can bring you nearer 

 

I won’t pretend I don’t pretend 

Knowing fully, it is my curse 

Visions, dreaming, wishing 

So easy to write each verse 

 

Truth in muffled whispered gasps 

My pillow holds my secrets 

Etiolate into bliss; (unrest) 

I fade in and out of existence  

 

Touching you – you holding me 

Bathed in fire’s dolor pool 

Breathing on my wet skin 

I dare not cool your soul 

 

I dare not stop my vision’s quest 

Nor wake to find you’re missing 

If dreaming brings your love to me 

I’ll never see the morning 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

February 15, 2021 

 

 Con Amore 

 

“Con Amore”, she called to him 

Allowing her intent 

Though her heartbeat brio, brio 

He seemed quiet, seemed content 

 

His glance toward her showed interest 

Adagio, at first 

Perhaps a furia waits beneath  

The grey steel stare for her 

 

Unique the subtle movements 

Drone, a bass beat lingered 

Lifting slowly, falling fast 

Acceso - burning 

 

Bend to love, sweet melody 

Pick up your voice in chord 

Harmonious beating, their two hearts 

Dolce sweet and strong 

 

En retenant, holding back 

These notes so fast so splendid 

Hammer on, slowing now 

Decrescendo – waning 

 

Thunderous chords strike again 

Breathless tempo rising 

Plucking every imagined chord 

Music for the writing 

 

Silence now, as music lives 

Flowing soft Calore 

Muted intonation as, 

She whispers “Con Amore” 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

February 14, 2021 

 

As Dawn Wanes 

 

Whispers prick the belly of my ears gently 

Sinking deeply in their pools 

Laughing whiskers tinge my soul’s tongue 

Lick the steam as coffee brews 

 

Morning lifts her skirts, awakened 

Dawn slips away, he dares that smile 

Robins sing their distractions 

Allowing Dawn to hide a while 

 

He will return to rage the battle 

Dreamers fight within his snare 

Clutches give and thrust their bedsheets 

Morning fears Dawn’s final stare 

 

Give to me your hour so longing 

Bring back heaven, hold me fast 

Care not if the hour is waning 

Squeeze my thighs, renew your grasp 

 

Grey-eyed stare veiled delusion 

Scrape my heart and gouge my faith 

A fantasy, a reason to 

Keep Morning oh, so far away 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow

July 17, 2022

 

 Say Goodnight 

 

There’s something about this feeling 

Something untrusting, raw 

Thought it would be easy to resist 

Again, I failed myself – that's all 

 

Not easy to fall this hard and survive 

Suppose I’ve had practice before 

What I wish I could do is scream 

Not letting anything show 

 

What I wouldn’t give to smile 

Simply walk away - waving 

Nothing lasts forever, but this  

This pain, this hurt, this craving 

 

You’ve taken my heart 

You don’t even realize my ruin 

Just a fool; standing silent - alone 

Knowing you’ll never return 

 

Could I tear loose – break away 

Hitch a ride with my own future 

A place you won’t find me 

A place you’d never venture 

 

Too broken to ask for help 

My noumenon exposed 

Too worn from years of injury 

Self-inflicted; perhaps cursed 

 

What could I do with me anyway 

Keep sentiment wrapped up tight 

Never sharing love again 

Smile, wave, say “good night” 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

February 13, 2021 

 

 

Sagacious Submission 

 

I will never bend  

I shall never move 

Strength will leave me first 

This stand I make will prove 

 

All sagacity held firm 

I sense what you are doing 

My soul rejects all lures 

My veins pulse with fury 

 

Brave my heart holds guard 

Not moving, no allotment 

Stay from me – be gone 

The tearing is but torment 

 

Wisdom, insight, vision 

What good are these tonight 

Love has tricked my very core 

So lost in you, my plight 

 

Given to the fear of loss 

Abduction from within 

Loosen these, damned lover’s chains 

Forced to yield again 

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

February 12, 2021 

 

Whisper in My Ear 

 

Whisper in my ear, love 

Penetrating sounds coo with each breath 

I relax in your arms, held bound without ties 

Captive for you without snare 

 

Your words hushed with anticipation 

Half air, half promise 

No one near but you love, no one closer 

Swear these words you use 

 

Twirling pastels in my mind 

Your lavenders within my lilac 

My imagination no longer alone to dream 

You are my spirit, you are my breath 

 

Burning without flame, consumed without fire 

Leaning in, I want to know you 

Panting skin against your hardened form 

Racing heart stop - I can’t hear him 

 

Whisper in my ear, love 

Say all you dare to say now 

I hold pledged your promise 

I await your silenced mouth  

 

 

-Jude Stringfellow  

February 6, 2021 

 

Lover

 

Endless embrace!

The night chills—I dream

What could better calm me

Your arms enclosed—love

 

Pale fixed eyes

Gaze into my ginger pools

Holding fast this last twinkling

Dawn threatens to steal

 

Whiskered smile

Tickling past my tender skin

Lingered points—brief touch

Dancing elves—each one

 

Awaken!

No, let me lie with you

Holding on to night

To give in—to lose

 

 

- Jude Stringfellow

November 11, 2000

 

Green

 

Green the grass rolls yonder
Setting fragrance free
Breezes flower, blooming
Bursting at their seams

Honeysuckle, Daffodils
Roses, creep like Myrtles
Draping. Swing. Mad Willow
Bend and show the world

Bend and show to everyone
The Oak is not so strong
She holds her ground,
But breaks to Wind's harsh song

Sing your songs, sweet Sparrow
Counter speak the Doves
Listen Willow, feel them
Hiding in your gloves

Green your leaves drape covering
Busily sweep the air
Not for me to question
Not for me to care

Creep the Myrtles purple
Bloom and give to green
Willows kiss the future
Winter hands off to Spring

-Jude Stringfellow
March 11, 2010

 

Ruled By Heart

I couldn't ever start to know
The cravings of my heart
Her drum in me beats on its own
She lays out her own desires
I am forced to do her bidding
By fear that she may stop
If left alone she'd harden
Her need for me is soft

We fit together - harmonized
True, she rules us both
If she decides to fall again
If she desires to love
I won't fall, but have to wait
Wait until she frees me
I won't fall, but have to hope
Hope that she releases

I have but one heart to serve
She has but me to rule
Strange, our timing always off
Her silent beat abuses
Clinching to the next dreamt scheme
Silent beats - such thunder
Serve I will, devoted warrior
Pray she does not wander

 

-Jude Stringfellow

October 27, 2010

 

 Symphony of Love 

Is my voice a symphony 

Do I rage with song 

When our hearts are melding 

Two becoming one 

 
Are your notes of tenor 

Forced with breathless thrust 

Are the whisperings of woodwinds 

Leaping from my tongue 

 

Quicken heart! Hold time 

Surround the sound—silence 

Mewl for no one else to hear 

My lover’s lips shall thunder 

 

Rage, lift up my very soul 

In crescendo—rapture! 

Deep inside, harmonious tides 

Melodies—captured 

 
Songs for only our ears 

Sweet in every note 

Panting—exhausted refrain 

Music is your stroke 

 

Sing sweet lover to me 

Your song a kind surrender 

Symphonic pleas, submission 

Orchestra in motion 

 

-Jude Stringfellow 

 

 

Fire’s Breath 

 

I arch my body toward the stars 

To feel your hand in touch 

To whisper words you cannot hear 

But words transform in love 

 

I reach to hold your firm strong arms 

To press you even closer 

To hold you fast within my loin 

I celebrate my lover 

 

Tonight resounds within my mind 

A vision—impressions 

Tomorrow’s love soon foretold 

With sweet anticipation 

 

Keep me sheltered in your soul 

Your thoughts dear—caress 

Strength to carry through the day 

I wait for you—your presents 

 

It won’t be long until we love 

Until we kiss impassioned 

Fire’s breath shines through your eyes 

Revealing love—unquestioned 

 

- Jude Stringfellow 

 

 Me Mutter

Well, there she goes

Just ‘a walkin’ down the street

Singing this and that and

Whatever else she wants - - BECAUSE

She is me Mutter.

Some may know her

Some know her smile

Some don’t give a damn but

It’s OK because she don’t either

She is me Mutter

There’s another poem out there

One about a mom

This is one about mine and

No one else’s, except my sibs

She is OUR Mutter

I love the stuffin’ out of her

Think she’s pretty daft

Think she’s smart as hell too

At the same time, she’s all that

She is me Mutter

Not one to mess or fart around

Maybe just a toot or two

She can paint and laugh and sing

But mostly she just smiles and loves

She is, and will always be…Me Mutter.

-Jude Stringfellow

June 27, 2023