Christmas 2009 has come to pass. Meadville has been fortunate this year. Snow coming late and very little, not to many days below freezing. Christmas day we had the start of a warm spell with a rain that melted most of the snow on the ground around the town. A few customer have made the comment that this year it was a strange Christmas . It was a subdued spirit this year. The question is ...why?.

Angel Tears

.....

Christmas day

Hope is born

.....

Winter dreams beneath

White comforter

Play their stories

.....

Angel tears from

Heaven high

Brought to earth

.....

One by one

They grab a thread

....

Blanket

Is taken from the bed

.....

Dreans lay bare

The promise is life

......

Sleep in peace

Beneath Angel tears

....

ccd 2009

Five days until Christmas. shopping is not done. The things I would truly love to give can not be purchased. Friends and acquaintances, both, this year have had personal losses. I would not give them freedom from the pain of a loss. I would only wish to lessen it , to fill the empty spot This time of year is in celebration of a birth. In truth we could call it the two thousand tenth rebirth of love. We can not feel the touch of those that have passed We can not hear their voice.. In feeling the absence of the touch or the sound we acknowledge their presence. They lived, we live. They gave us love, we love. A rebirth, a new year , new beginnings. ......

The Rocking Chair

....

In the corner in silence

a rocking chair sits

Seating only of times

gone by

Memories carrying words

of wisdom

Comfort, laughter ,and tears

.....

I turn my head to speak

I pause

Choking back the emptiness.

The warm heart, silver hair

Knitting in hand

Sits there no more

.......

Chess board set

no move is made

Line and hook

on rods are strung.

No fish to share.

.......

I remember

....

ccd

Mom , Dad

Merry Christmas

Winter weather has finally arrived. Cold into the single digits. Christmas just weeks away and I have done no shopping. Leave it to a man to wait until the last minute.. Many feel as I, Christmas is to commercialized now. I too long ago fell into the trap of material things being given as gifts. With age came the truth. This time of year the days grow shorter, in a week the Winter's solstice. The days will again grow longer. A new Year begins, Light grows stronger. In the celebration of Christs' birth we celebrate a new beginning every year. New chances, new discoveries. New life. This week, in two that I know I have seen the sadness of losses. If I could, I would take that from them. All I can do is offer them a poem

........

Rose

....

I saw a petal upon the ground

Ruby stained red

....

Satin soft dreams

Feather light kisses

....

From ones heart

A name, a memory

....

In a single moment

No flower is stronger

....

But a single petal lays low

The strength of sorrows

.......

A fragrance that carries promises

Softens heavy memories

.......

ccd

..

It was a good week then Friday got here. I have learned another lesson. the second was in '98 ....there is a price to pay if you get what you ask for and it is not meant to be. The price I paid to get out of debt rising was a broken knee in a auto accident. The first was do not put time limits in my life. The price for having to loving Daughters in my life..... I asked for a woman to love me if only for 15 years. It was a good marriage that long. I did not pay attention to the first lesson.. ...I knew this bill was coming due it was a 3 year request to get one through school. This weekend I asked what now ? Which way shall I travel? How will this work out? The answers ,believe it or not came from the 2 fortune cookies I ate this morning. While the solution is there for me to find it will not be handed to me. Fortune # 1 You can make the best of a bad situation... they make diamonds from coal. Fortune #2 Everything is impossible until somebody does it. I may not attend any church but my faith is strong. I know what I know and I know enough to understand I know nothing of theology of man except there is a God. I need not know more.

Between My Hands

........

In, tear salted, rivers

My story flows by

.......

In salted rivers my soul is cleansed

.........

I look upon my up-turned hands

The strength of my father is

in my right

.........

The love of my mother

is in my left

.........

Between the two

There my heart stands

.........

I look upon my up-turned hands

The unspoken love of my father

in my right

The unspoken strength of my mother

in my left

........

Between the two

There my heart stands

........

Now at my side

Linked heart to heart

My blessed daughters stand

.......

My feet, on Mother Earth are planted

In Father Sky I hold my head

For love of two

Here my heart stands

.....

ccd

Sunday night last Sunday of November This past Thursday was Thanksgiving. At this time of year people ask what are you thankful for. Besides the women that have held my heart for a while and my two favorite daughters.... the poem says it all. I do not consider myself old. Cronologicaly I am a little over 1/2 century old. There are times in life to reflect upon the past. Those that know me, know that I rarely did or do any drinking. I have never been drunk, but this poem, like a country song, could only be started one way.

......

Why Do You Drink Old Man

......

Why do you drink old man?

"To forget" he said.

.......

What do you forget old man?

"I dont know" his voice whispered.

......

Why do you shed a tear old man?

Choked down words whispered

"For all that I have forgotten"

.....

You still remember now old man?

"Yes"

.......

Tell us.

......

Summer sun,

Baseball, bikes, toy guns.

Mammas hugs,

Daddy's firm hand.

Climbing trees to grab the stars,

Ponytail and single smile aross

the playground yard.

......

High school sweetheart,

Friday's game, Saturday's dance.

Real guns, mud and blood

Sarge...... never walked again.

......

Fancy dress for wedding day

Small hand, golden band

Baby girl, first step...

Love ya Dad, I wont be late.

........

From outside in

It starts again.

......

Why do you cry old man?

What are your tears?

......

"Tears of joy for having lived."

......

ccd 2009

This is an uneventful week for me if you want exciting news you will have to read anybody else's blog. today has been a day of contemplation and rest. I read the old testament and I read translations of the Zen masters. I have listened to ministers and philosophy professors. From centuries past to today is there no original thought in who we are? We as people have moved forward in leaps and bounds technically,however when it comes to the inner being and existence everything from the first is just repetition of one thought with different explanations. When does a person reach the state of enlightenment? The following passage by Foyan, a Zen master whose life spanned 1067-1170 is in its self a repetition of teachings pertaining to enlightenment.

.....

If you are spiritually sharp

you can open your eyes and see as soon

as you hear me tell you about this...

Have not people of immeasurable greatness

said this truth?.....is it not comprehensible by thought,and that it is where knowledge does not reach?

Were it not like this, how could it be called enlightened truth?

Nowadays however, people just present interpretations and views,

making up rationalizations.

They have never learned to be thus, and have never learned to reach this state.

.........................

As for myself I have no words to describe it nor explain what I know,

I just know it is there and one day I hope to see it

my poem for today

Look to the East

....

Who cut this road headed west?

Look to the foot prints

Step for step at your side

....

The root, the stone

Soft streach of sand and grass

Your road was made as you traveled

.....

Look not to the west

And the setting sun

.......

Call not the wood cutter

On winters day

......

Look not to corded woood

Smaller in winters chill

......

Axe will fall

When harvest is set

.......

Look east to new light

Forrest grows

........

Springs eternal

.......

Old and new

In harmony stand

........

Lessons to be tought

At winters hearth

.......

Look not to the west

Seek not the roads end

........

ccd

Another week has passed to the ...once was. the truck did not cost 1500.00 it was only 1404 and change. Ashley straightened out my Bank account program so I took her to Erie for dinner at the Golden Coral Buffet she blew 10.00 at the casino I blew 15.00 on 1 penny slot machines. Friday night when I got home the stars were out. There was a slight haze and the smell of someone having a fire going in their fire place. It was a smell of dreams. So a while back I wrote a poem entitled Dreans. Today I did a revision. I think it is better than the first.

Starry night

....

Banked fire embers glow

Tendrils of dreams climb the breeze

.........

Dreams of hope on the morrow

Dreams planted in farmers furrow

Dreams of spring in lover's heart

........

No one

Dreams of sorrow

There is only the ache

For what if, yesteryear,

And tomorrow

Well another great week the good news with the truck .. it was not the oil pump but the sending unit. it leaks when it goes bad. However, it is time for the yearly inspection. Lets see what does it need? Well it has a leaky shock in front. I can not replace one shock so both front shocks need to be replaced. Then there is the bad bearing in the rear axle. Lets not forget the bad ball joints in the front end. So it will still cost around 1500 in repairs. Now ,how did the week finish up? The cash register, that is/ was somewhere between 20 and 30 years old, it is going to the great register heaven on Monday

It died. Monday starts the new register. My thanks to Ashley for programming the new one. Did I mention she was the one that fried the old one?

This weeks poem Regret not the past and the pain it brings

Cost of Love

.....

Reach for the heart of thy rose

Sacrifice thy blood upon its thorns

......

In a single tear

The cry of pain shreds thy heart.

.......

Petal to petal two roses touch

Fragrance doubles

.......

Maple leaf turns seeking rain

Soul turns heart seeking love

.......

Vine and trellis intertwined

Love and lover

Sweetest wine

.......

Cast not my heart from thy tree

As the tree casts the leaf before the cold

.......

The soul untouched by laughter or pain of love

Is the Fall leaf,dried....

Crumbles to dust.

.......

ccd

OKEY DOKEY....what a wonderfull week Lets start wiht Monday.... puppydog socks had a vet appointment... he was not a happy camper he had 4 teeth pulled and spent the night with the vet poor pup we did miss him and hurt with him. Socks is back to normal now still taking antibiotic for a little longer just to be sure he does not get an infection. No pain pills given after Thursday So after Monday naturally comes Tuesday Ashley shows up at the store and says dad you have a leak under your truck. AYUP sure enough a leak but off to the bank I go... park the truck look under the truck no dripping ok no problem . I finish my banking. Oh look a little puddle under the truck. turn the engine on..... hey look at that no oil pressure. So now my truck sits at the store untill Tuesday when the garage can take it.I already know it will be a minimum $1,500 to repair. We had a full moon this week so this is the poem I picked for this week

Harvest Moon

......

Warm summers' green blanket

Washed and pressed

Folded, put to rest

......

Summers' end upon us now

Shortened hours in fathers' light

Summers' night song softer too

......

Children's play ends too soon

Laying to sleep is the Harvest moon

.....

ccd

It is that time of year again. sometimes sunny, sometimes rainy , getting colder and yards full of leaves. I wrote this one a while back'

Early Fall

.....

Adorning royalties' green

A golden crown did shimmer

At mornings first light

.....

With dew frosting for a robe

Vapor ghosting past root and leaf

Morning shadows stripping warmth

........

Summers' mantle soon closeted

Fleeting omens of winters' wakening

Flowers perfume sweetened one last time

......

Harvested fruit stored in nest

Spiders last web in farmers cut field

Snaring only mornings frost

ccd

Once a week I will be placing a poem on this page. I will start with this request, then I will post a poem written by me from when I started. You will see if I have gotten better or worse. sometimes I may post a poem From deceased poets I find I like

Little Dancer

.......

Beneath thy feet

on

Wooden stage

Do you feel the story?

Can you feel the song?

....

On summers day

Before loggers came

By Mountain valley

I once stood

.....

From cold sleep of winter

To sun soaked days of summer

.....

Angelic hymns

On morning breeze

Morning birds' flutiest breath

Graced my crown

.....

Laves upturned to coming rain

Brushed by drummers whisk

Or Kettles thunder

......

Swaying, twisting, bowing

Valley flowers

Flow to the dance

......

Running brook tripping

Over bedded stone

.....

Little Dancer

Light of foot

'Till curtain falls Dance my memories

Dance my dreams

..... ccd 2009

OK, it is Saturday nite. It was good to go out for dinner with Kimberly and Ashley , then take in some improv at the local theater for amature talent. The show was based on the TV sitcom ...Whos Line is it Anyway

well this is new for me so hi ya'll welcome to me and my rantings or weirdness