Eyde-Tucker, Lupe

Lupe Eyde-Tucker

Goodbye, Jersey

(inspired by Goodnight, Moon, by Margaret Wise Brown.)

The sun is high
The air is still
And everything that will be,
will.
Cars racing on the GSP
and the lady conductor asking, “tickets, please.”

Summer, trees, hydrangeas
Cool ocean breeze and jughandles
Every town in descending order,
and memories calling
from every corner

Goodbye, Jersey
Goodbye, Shore
Goodbye all the Wawa stores

Rt 35 & 36
Radio stations’ eclectic mix
Beginning in Red Bank, on the Navesink River
and traipsing around the state together,

Gingerbread houses in Ocean Grove
Twin Lights beaming from above,
Like an old, cherished love,
“You have not changed!”
(never will!)
Yet, the train moves forward, still.

Goodbye, Jersey
Goodbye, Al
Goodbye horses, farms, and cows
Goodbye ocean breeze, and salty air
and Jersey Girls everywhere.

Summer Love

They met in the summer,
on the south end of Pawleys Island
where the waves slap high-fives
and the north wind runs free.
And on one star-filled night,
while the moon shone bright,
the green marsh fell deeply
in love with the blue sea.

You could feel it everywhere,
their love was swirling in the air.
She loved his blue intensity,
he loved her green positivity.
It was right as the tides,
so it came as no surprise,
when the dashing blue groom,
took the luminous green bride.

For the great wedding feast
came the turtles, from the east
and other privileged guests,
including the egrets from the west.
The mullets came from up north,
a procession of pelicans from down south,
and the blue creek crabs
just popped in, unannounced.

“I will love you when it storms,
and when its sunny, I will rejoice.”
“I will provide a place for you,
I will listen for your voice.”
“And whether the tides are high or low,
no matter how the wind blows,
we will ride it all together
so our precious love grows.”

As long as time will be,
every year on Pawleys,
all shall celebrate the day
the green marsh
married the blue sea.
Because Forever, the blue sea
will run his gentle fingers through her hair.
Forever, the green marsh
will whisper sweet nothings in his ear.
And when only sand and shells remain,
the air will still smell like champagne.

Lupe Eyde-Tucker's profile

First ☊

It was in a dream 
in a low-light room
 in a box of matches 
from a pocket

It was a rapid friction
 a flare of passion
 reflected in dark eyes

It was in a dream 
I sometimes tell myself
 where nothing I touched 
could touch me back

It was in my skin
 in the evidence of 
the scars, the burns,
 the scratches

In a crying moment
 in a chosen fashion
 that a game of arms 
struck like matches

in the beating heart 
of a dream 
pleasure & pain
 are the same muscle.

Ultra Marine

Once upon a time I spent 10 days on a sailboat in the ocean, sailing north. The blue water has been calling me back ever since.

Ultramarine Gulf Stream
liquid conveyor belt
carry my dreams

let me skip along your surface
don’t let me get too deep

Each periwinkle morning
turns to a turquoise blanket of hope
entreating us to sail boldly
past the continental slope

And in the afternoon
a bluefin tuna
of iridescent azure
is plucked from the waters
with a silver spoon lure

Sir, we royally salute you
and your noble fate
served up, shimmering,
upon a sapphire plate

Herculean cerulean
yet effortlessly triumphant
we scan for the next horizon
to grasp the earth’s circumference
until we rest our heads
under a diamond indigo shawl
the blue will fuel our reveries-
sailors, explorers, dreamers, all.

August