Two more poems I revised from older ones. These two are in Americanized Haiku.

Tree swing

 

Swing hangs from old oak

Breezes push rotted frayed ropes

Dreams fly free no more 

 

ccd 9/12/2916

 

 

Perfection

 

From the flower bud

Perfectly grown beauty

The tattered petal

 

ccd  9/12/2016



 

 

 

 

The Nether of Our Thoughts

I walk the streets of my small city

where once shoulders crowded, grazed, twisted and

jostled one another…

Today there is barely a soul from wall to curb

Cars flow by with no glance from the driver’s

whose faces wait for the

artist’s emotion…

Their eyes only staring into the nether of their

thoughts

I took my car to fill with gas. Now full, I stand

in a haphazard line waiting to pay my dues.

No one looks upon me to say hi or hello as they

wait their turn…

 

Artless faces just starring into the

 nether of their thoughts

 

 Today I shop for groceries pushing my cart up

and down isle after isle my face turned to shelves

filled with multitudes of choices.

I pass cart after cart,

their pushers selecting this and that not

really ignoring me, it is just their own eyes don’t take

in the artist’s  soul while

focused in the nether of their own thoughts

 I met an old friend this day by chance

we passed memories of bygone days with smiles

and laughter adding new thoughts and dreams

to the mix...

Parting ways with smiles, and see you later,

a quick glance into their eyes at the final farewell

I saw them glazing, loosing the artist’s vision

as I was certain my own eyes,

 barely remembering the artist’s strokes,

were drifting

into the nether of our thoughts...

ccd12/4,5/2016



It has been a while since I posted. I have held back the few I have written because I need to have unpublished poems for the web site poetry.com. It appears the response is the same It is not what we are looking for at this time. So, here are the un published poems. Enjoy and Miss Suzy I hope you are well.

The Whims of Life

Slightly curled in its

infancy, a leaf

is caught

by the remnants of an

early spring storm…

There are no ears to

hear the cry for

help as the leaf falls

into the eddies of the stream

below…

The bond to home

is forever broken…

 

Such are the cruel whims

of life,

with no anchor

to hold, while

riding muddy currents

of a storms’ passing

 

ccd 5-2017