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Best Poems Written by J. Tudor

Below are the all-time best J. Tudor poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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For Ways To Speak

Tonight there are broken bits of moon
scattered about the surface of a rippled pond,
trying to draw themselves together again
like a broken web of spider silk after a rain.
 
If I were a window, I would open myself
and let you hear the spaces that surround
these broken bits of light, small dancing shards
of my heart folding itself inward around
the words I would once have spoken.
 
But now, I can't let the words
trickle through my own mind,
I can never let them get to my tongue
or even to my fingertips...
I am becoming my own silence.

...but love,
love cries for ways to speak.

Details | J. Tudor Poem

Sometimes the Sky

sometimes the sky
will tear open at night

and stars will just pour
out like rain

I am full of holes now
from their searing plunge

I was never smart enough
to step out of their way

or hide beneath a tree 
or simply go back inside 

and close my window
to the stellar pain

I am older now and you’d 
think I would have learned

or am i like you
infatuated with the night

and simply love the way
a star passes through

Details | J. Tudor Poem

Dandelion

Dandelion, do I snip you in your bud,
lest your fleeting flight of little wings 
do take their hold, multiplying ten fold

or do I make wine, for by the hour you
propogate this lawn of mine, a green
field of sun's golden shower of flowers

Oh Dandelion, so misunderstood, you
are deemed a weed by those whom 
would crown you, by fastidious deed in

their need to define you as something
less than ideal, yet I feel a presence,
upon my lawn, of spring's golden dawn

taking over like clover, Oh Dandelion



(April 11 2016)

Details | J. Tudor Poem

The Clearing At Moon-Tide

I lay so very still,

captive within the vowels
of your sigh,

passion coursing
through veins like a raging river
as you lay there,
bare and forgiving...

a response to words I could hardly whisper.

Words that had eyes,
and fingers,

words that crawled up your pale, beautiful skin
in search of a place to live,
in search of the unknown depths of heart.

If I could step outside of this dream
I could walk the path,
in blindness,
and still find you,

light becoming warmth
and close to touch,

your fevered pitch of voice calling me...

"come, my love,
find me in the clearing at moon-tide...
and passion,
as love,
will be home here"

(Feb. 24, 2016)

Details | J. Tudor Poem

The Manekken Pis

The Manekken Pis
flowers at his little feet
mourning senseless death





In sorrow for the people of Brussels, and for all whom are victims of cruelty.

(The bronze statue on the corner of Rue de l'Etuve and Rue des Grands Carmes was made in 1619 by Brussels sculptor Hieronimus Duquesnoy the Elder, and is to Brussels what the Statue of Liberty is to Manhattan, or Big Ben is to London.)

(April 1 2016)

Details | J. Tudor Poem

A Grandmother's Wisdom

A Grandmother's Wisdom

All that my parents left me
could fit into a paper sack
carried like a leaden weight
strung across my broken back

A pair of bronzed booties
a jacket and Tonka truck
a small photo of Grandma 
along with a note of "Good Luck"

I was left with confusion
and an old coloring book
but "stay within the lines son"
was the only wisdom that I took

As the years went by in
the most sullen of ways
I would often remember back
to those bitter childhood days

But now when I pine or
look behind to my past
the paper sack all torn
the note to brittle to last

The jacket's too small and
the truck's all broken down
the coloring book's all done
the only crayon left is brown

I no longer wonder why
I was left out in the cold
it doesn't matter anymore
at least I wasn't sold

I was raised by my Grandma
and she taught me this one thing
'The next time you leave home,
at least you'll know what to bring"



(Feb. 24, 2016)

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Sun-Dial's Foreshadowing Time

As the day lengthens
and sun grows high,
your shadow shortens
as the day goes by,

and i think of you 
in noon's repose,
and wonder where
your shadow goes.

Then there you are
on the other side,
in shadow's length
you no longer hide,

afternoon shadow
you slowly slide,
abiding once again
'til your light's revived.

One more thing I'll say
before I'm through,
I've never before met 
a gnomon like you.





(April 26 2016)

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Two Perspectives: I See, I Feel For Pd's In One Line Contest

(I SEE)

anchored by stone spire, rising above ocean's swell; guidance her vision

5-7-5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(I FEEL)

standing in shadows, shouldering the weight of waves; I am moon's harbour

5-7-5


For Poem Destroyer's Contest "In One Line"   MONOKU

Written March 27 2016

Details | J. Tudor Poem

My Dearest - a Short Note

my
dearest -

you
are a
flute

a soft
caressing
whispering
beckoning
harmonic

flute

when
I see
you

my entire body
becomes an ear



(Feb. 26 2016)

Details | J. Tudor Poem

Swallowtails

Sleep did not come easy, nor did dawn arrive
as a sweet kiss upon a cheek of hope, spring
has yet to dwell in all of winter's vacant spaces.

I lay there, long after sun slithered through the
creases of the blinds, beneath my thin blanket,
the one with the map of the world on it's top...

( I always like to know where it is that I am )

I lay there and thought about what was going
to become of me, you know, that crib to grave
thing...child to man to child again, then suddenly

I remembered the swallowtails I saw yesterday,
the first of the season, and how I wrote a poem
about them and then tucked it away into a drawer.

  The swallowtails arrived today, sweeping
  away all of winter's leftover silence, gripped
  upon threads of airy current and spring's coming.

  Three, four...more, now seven...kite-wings of sun
  and night sharing a backbone of flight, first sign
  of migration north from polar south, dew dripping

  from each tired mouth, they flit and steer this way
  and that, light, for just a moment, and off they go.
  Gone, the scene more poetic than I could ever show.

Now, the hours are dragging their tired heels again,
toe to toe with loneliness, and I am wondering...
how do some people do it, make the most of things

when there is nothing else to make.





(April 20 2016)