Jude Genereaux | He is here…

22 08 2014

NorbertBleica1965..

Norbert Blei ca. 1965

He is here …

Last night, Thursday August 21, a first effort BLUES ON THE BAY event was held in the heart of our beloved village Ellison Bay. One of the sponsors, Jennifer Lee, mentioned Norb had noted in the not too distant past, that the only thing Ellison Bay needed was “a little blues…”. Well, he sure gave us that.

Opening for Chicago’s Billy Flynn was our local Pete Thelan, one of the best of Norb’s loyal band of coyotes; Pete belted out “Sweet Home Door County” for Norb and sent it skyward with the assurance “We MISS you!” … and his wish that he was here.

He is here. He’s all around us, always in this little town … just over my shoulder, just out of view, but he’s here in every sunrise, sunset, poppy bursting orange and birch tree glowing white. Every drive north on 42 there comes a glimpse of a little beige Honda and for a moment, I see his beaming face behind the wheel. For a moment, turning on Europe Bay Road, I am just going home. He’s in our booth at the Viking for “early bird breakfast”, at the counter in the Pioneer picking up a movie for after dinner, in the post office each time I open Box #33, and turning into The Clearing path on my walks up Garrett Bay Road. And he was here with us on the bay as Pete belted out the blues last night.

Life will never be as good, as vibrant or joyful without his rumbling voice in my ear, without his words on Poetry Dispatch for all of us to savor, but one can always find him … because he is Here. In Ellison Bay. On this August 23rd, 79th Birthday, and always. — Jude Genereaux





Jude Genereaux | Happy Birthday Darlen’ …

23 08 2013

Happy Birthday Darlen’ …
78 this day: August 23rd, 2013.

You may find yourself in grander company this birthday dinner Norbert, up there with Dave Brubeck & Studs, Vaclav Havel … my brother Al? But Norbr’ – ya shoulda been here. We – all of us, Blei’s & Buff’s & Aunt Lorry & the Blei-Tribe miss you more than you would have imagined. You left us all – too soon.

And I really don’t know how to do this …
learning to live without the sense of your presence in the simplicities of every day life ~ the habits & routines created, moments I turn with news to tell you … the hardest time – 5:45, when I expect you to be coming in from the Coop. Not that we hadn’t spent time apart … but one of us was always on the road back. Always.

How do the rest of us sing our songs without the lilt that made them come alive? much less celebrate days empty without you? Or move through the favorite month of August when it echoes so much loss? These things we never want to learn.

So be patient (for once) until I get back to your side. Our picnics will be quieter now, but I’ll come sit in the grass beside you & recall the ways we honored our holidays – anniversaries & birthdays. For as much as you’d protest that you “didn’t want all that attention!” – you did. Never flinched as favorite restaurant people in Milwaukee & Door served up cupcakes & candles … protests rang hollow up north as well, as Tag-Along or Five O’Clock sang choruses of “Happy Birthday”, you – smiling like a kid.

You left us all too soon, so we’re singing our songs to you with all our hearts … forgive us if they sound a little off key.
~ your Jude

Birthday Gifts

We sit face to face
center of the bed
sharing birthday surprises.

A rose for you
pressed impatiens for me
a watercolor, photo of dawn
strawberries and books
A heart of gold, a truffle or two;
backrubs and chatter
your face
next to mine in the morning.

The true gift is: Time
to lean into hunger
speak the secret language
taste the sweet peace of Renewal.

So run us a tub, my hot lovin’ man
fill it with passion fruit foam
and sink in beside me.
Joy
bubbles forth
You
are the promise
my life bargained for.

Hoarding

I want the shirt he died in.
I want the clothes pins, our dishes,
the last bottle of champagne …

I want all the books, love letters, the
movies and our blankets and
the time we wasted …

I want to hang the sheets, trim his mane
fetch him coffee, bring home bird seed
& go to breakfast at the Viking …

I want his hands, those eyes
his bump in the night
I want him back.

~ Jude Genereaux
Coyote Woman

norbandjude








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