Sleepy day, some ambition. Happy to have my truck back. Lets call it what it is when we are so bonded to transportation........Freedom.......So lets drink to that... Waiter another round of tea please.

Now for a work in progress so they say....whomever "they" are...  This is a little
different but I like it. I was going to try it in Haiku but there was too much to tell

The Island 



City street.

asphalt, lined in

brick, steel and mortar

Soulless buildings disgorge

streams of life while

phantoms slide along the

panes of glass...

reflections only promising life

Raucous echos, from the brick, 

strum the wires feeding

glaring lights

.....and there it hangs

single, golden-brown.....

The last leaf clinging to life

now sleeping

In the turmoil of man...

an island of beauty

to rest my eyes upon

ccd Nov. 2011

Jeg bruger en online oversætter til at skrive dette til netop dig. Jeg håber, det kommer ud læsbar.


Susi, bedes du forstår disse er ikke om Bonnie. Jeg har aldrig tvivlet på dig i noget

Du ved, at jeg kan mærke dine følelser i dine skriftfelter.

Jeg føler din smerte over tabet af din Bonnie.
 
Jeg kender emptyness du to er følelsen.

Your freind Chris

Wonder full day, nowhere to go untill my truck gets running again. right now it is sitting outside a garage in town....sigh.....So I have done some cleaning and a little cooking.
Now to come up with a poem

Marking Time

Intrusive, only the sounds of man

into the quiet of the day

Black against grey clouds

the trees stand over green

carpet stained in rust

First snow, but a memory

caught in the dampness of

cool breeze

Crows brackish calling, silent... 

Dreams undisturbed...

Fall's early sleep unbroken

The harsh tick of twig on twig

marking the time till spring awakens

ccd Nov. 2011

I wrote 3 more Haiku this week. I was told it is not a good choice for subject matter since I have an affinity for nature. The three were inspired by this weeks episode of NCIS. The theme has been in the back of my mind for some time. The friend says I write of life I should not write of death whic is what the Haiku are about. He says it stinks of death an finality.

I guess I wrote it correctly then for it is sad and final.

Heroes' End in Three Haiku

Beneath hallowed cloth

Wooden box satin pillow

Heroes' final bed

Horse hoof beats the dirge

Walking to eternal sleep
Caisson rolls silent

Headboard of marble
Name lays claim to heroes' home

bugle sings for rest

ccd Nov. 2011

I have been sitting with this poem for hours. I feel it should go more, however all I keep seeing are two spirits of loved ones that have passed this year. An empty spot in the heart is not filled with darkness but with the golden light of love that brings pain. Socks and Bonnie your presence is sorely missed.

The start of this poem came from our first snow of the season for this year at the time of the full moon. I will await comments to see if it needs more

First Snow

Frozen tears

from silver platter

a cry of hunger

for a winters sleep

Fall takes the servings

from Summer's bounty...

Scented in hearth grown

fires of oak and cherry... 

A feast of

brown and green now

in ermine trim ...

Bittersweet the frosting

of first snow

ccd Nov 2011

Which version feels and sounds better?

                                                     

                                                Versiion 2

First Snow

Frozen tears

from silver platter

a cry of hunger

for a winters sleep

Fall takes the servings

from Summer's bounty...

A feast of

brown and green now

in ermine trim ...

Bittersweet the frosting

of first snow

Two days past... I shed tears this morning for un-seen friends and their loss. Bonnie's passing goes deep. No words can I say to give you comfort. Her strength,
beauty and love remain in your hearts and soul.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-r8up5wJDpI&feature=related

I am posting this late tonight. I do not know if it is the weather change or the time change, but I have had a nagging headache all day. I was not sure I had a poem tonight so I am starting with a haiku I wrote at work this week. This haiku I got from a dream. While I can no longer see the rose

it is there in my mind still a thing of beauty.



 Dream Rose

...
 Ruined blinded eyes

Scarlet rose upon black silk

Blooms within my mind

.....

And so it seems even through the headache I have another poem to be given.

Sleep begins

...

A northern wind blows

frosted winds over pumpkins

un-picked

...

Under silver moon and

broken promise of

a golden sun.....

trees shiver, shaking

loose final remnants

of summers frock

...

Limbs once limber

whispering Summer"s

story....

Now,

dry and brittle,

tap the dirge, of

a season end,

where sleep

begins

...

ccd Nov. 2011