Falling.....

Down a gravel road
over a hill
up in the woods
I saw her..
weathered
and worn
torn apart
by the wind.
fading fast...
reminded me
of old people
in rest homes...
i felt a sadness
deep within
for i too
will grow old...

Don't go down the lane...

Up on the ridge
off a gravel road
there's a lane
most people
do not go down.
they say a old man
with one eye
and a hook
for a hand
lives in a shack
3 miles down the road.
He loves his cats
and just for fun
shoots at shadows
With his Grandpas gun........
Once a month
he goes into town
in a 76 chevy pickup......
buys matches and salt...
Flour and bullets...
I've been told
he sits on the rocks
at nightfall
overlooking the lane
waiting for his dog
to come home..
twenty years have passed
yet still he waits..
calling out in the darkness
"Here boy..here boy"..

Welcome friends..

If you found me a stranger may you come back as my friend....the following 20 poems or so was written over the last several months...I've just discovered this new found joy of putting poems to pictures....i enjoy letting the picture paint words upon my soul...it is much easier than puting pictures to poems...
if you enjoy my backroad pictures you might enjoy my Flickr site and blogs...
just click on "welcome friends" at the top of this post to take you there...

The Falling Of Time....

At the top of a hill
close to the county line
i found her falling...
A house
that once held
laughter and tears...
so silently she seemed
to be dying..
surround by fencelines
and weeds...
the old barn
stronger than her
faithfully stood
at her side...
His memories too
have been many.....
the rust on the silos
spoke of time
standing still
against blue skies...........
and the reaping of
seeds once sowed
on furtile land.
.

The Sacrifice...

there's a place
within the woods
behind a pine forest..
I call my room...
it used to be dark
and shadows
greeted me.
dancing about
as i sat
upon A mossy stone...
(Nature long ago
decorated this tiny space
with a foot stool
and two end tables..)
Last winters ice storm
sacrificed a tree
and light
now flows
upon the rocks..
I go there at sunrise
and sunset.
I'm told that sunrays
are like rainbows
only the pot of gold
is not coins
but words....

Naked Trees...

One thing i missed, once winter split
is the bare and naked trees..
Mother nature waited, paintently
to dress them up in leaves.
I love to see the shadow of
their trunks against a sunset sky...
(Naked trees are sexy things
but for what i don't know why...)
I love their branches laced in snow
up against a sky of blue...
I love them dressed up in ice
with a bright sun shinning through..
Once their dressed, i must confess
they don't do a thing for me
though i do love the spring time buds
that change the secenery..
I love them best, when their dressed
In the beauty Autumn's brings..
Still, Naked trees, are defiently
one one my favorite things...
I know that lots of you will say
"she's talking about a friggin tree.".
But do one thing,for me next spring
check out a naked pregant tree

Silent Whispers...

tucked away
in a thicket of trees
off a gravel road
down a 2 mile lane..
she stands idle..
broken and worn
rusted and sad
she struggles to stand..
her time
on earth
is fading...
Her windows
once held
shinny glass...
And her doors
opened to warmth
and smells
of fresh baked bread..
her sidewalk
long ago
hid nieth the grass...
her memories
are many...
she speeks
but only the wind
can hear her voice..
tree branch's seem
to hold her gently
as if to protect
her dying frame...

Waiting....

The tiny lane,
see's little traffic....
it leads to a old cabin
that sits near the lake.
every day at four o'clock
a red haired woman
can be seen walking..
checking her mail..
her husband Johnny
went to work one morning
and never came home..
no body was found.
his car was abandoned..
3 years have passed
and still no word from Johnny...
When she calls the police
desperate and crying...
The Cops just tell her
it's under investigation...
reminding her
He might have just left ..
and doesn't want found.
Noboy knows
for sure.
Some say she sits
on a rock
by the road
for hours...
as if she's waiting.
Her parents are gone.
her childrean are grown.
sitting under a tree
she reads cards
sent by old friends
that smell of mothballs..
and waves to strangers
passing by..

The Old Homestead...

the old homestead
over grown in trees
forgotten...
seems to be waiting
for my return...
a sadness sleeps
in her weatherd wood...
slowly she lost
her strength..
yet she stands
upright and proud.
time has taken
her youth....
In my pictures
she smiles....

The Intrusion....

The old cabin door
stood open...
as if waiting
for my departure.
I've come to know
the old house
much too well..
sometimes
i feel welcome
other times not..
this was a time
i felt I was
intruding...
the first of Autumn
was touching
late summer trees..
summer was passing.
To know Autumn
is to believe
Winter's her lover..
for soon she will fall
into his grasp
their courtship is cold
and short....
first she must
redress the leaves
green is not
a Autumn color...
She will paint
Natures canvas
gold and red,
purple and orange...
before she's done..
Trees will stand naked.
This late summer chill
made me feel
winter was here...
flurting with Autumn...
they've been lovers so long
time can predict them...
the old door open
said many things...
as i left i watched
autumns first leaves
dancing across
wooden floors...
I did not
close the door.

Nature and Luck...

In the woods
Benieth honeysuckle vines
i found a bucket
tattered and torn..
(i did not disturb it's time there..)
small animals know
the sound of rain..
tapping a tin roof....
cool in the summer
benieth the foliage,
a safe place to hide.
soon it would be covered
in brier's and twisted vines
hidden from sight........
through summer
and Autumn..
Keeping warm and dry
through winter's time....
frozen in ice
and snow...
where large teeth
and claws
can not carry it away.....
how could i disturb
this resting place
created by Nature
and luck...

A look inside....

Looking inside
the dark tomb
i saw a window...
it's beauty was not
for eyes
outside the walls...
twenty four handles
for
twenty four graves.
a family united...
by death....
100 and ten
years
of sleeping.....
the old broom
in the corner
i'm told
is for sweeping
away the sins...
a stone sculpture
of a angel
rests
above the door
as if to carry
their souls
to heaven....

The Power Of The Pen...

There was a time
when i loved
the mail man....
Much in the way
I now love
my computor...
the mail man
was my link
to people
who waited
to read
what i had written...
family and friends
had long before
stoped pretending..
(they didn't understand.)
the point of poetry
to them
"was pointless..."
waisted time.
yet the power
of the pen
can not
be turned down..
or ignored...
that's
impossiable.

Unmarked....

At the graveyards edge
by the woods...
i found this sculpture...
no tombstone....
the grave
was lined in bricks
with flowers growing.....
it was wide ..
like 2 people
maybe 3
lay sleeping......
no names
no dates...
just a statue
of a barefoot man
holding a bird..
the look
on his face
bid me to go.
i did not feel welcome.
his eyes
seemed to say
the bones
benieth him
was sacred.

Road Rage?????

Today I thought I'd make a list
of things about driving that gets me ticked
Like people who refuse to turn
right on red it makes me burn.
I don't like cars that get right on my ass
with bright headlights but will not pass.
and I don't like horns that blow down the street
waking me up when I need my sleep.
I've had cars pull out , right in front of me
when I'm the only car on the road that I see
then they make a turn right up the road
or I get behind someone driving real slow.
Now If i seem to appear to you
like i'm too picky ( have some road rage too)
maybe you're just one of "Them"
and can't construe my mayhem.
(but then again)
I must admit I too have been
that driver on the other end.
I've been givin the finger & got on my toes
when the light is green & a loud horn blows
I've had cars flash bright lights at me.
cause my lights were bright "they" couldn't see.
I don't know about you friend but I have decided
when I'm out driving I won't get excited.
I'll watch out for you , please watch out for me.
we're in this together, it's the best way to be....


all poems/lyrics posted by me was written by me..connetta jean

Blackberry Farm....

walking down a lane
in a summer rain
I came upon
the old blackberry farm...
sitting on a ridge
facing the sun
her Abandoned frame
could be seen
between overgrown trees..
and other things.
My fear of snakes
(and flying bullets)
kept me away
from courious thoughts..
I was close enough.
I could see...
No one lived here
she was empty.
rows of blackberrys
stand over grown..
behind the barn...
the sound of
blackbirds chatting
is overwhelming..

Hidden....

Beyond the hill
on the edge of town
overlooking a graveyard..
a rest home sits...
as if hidden by
those who care
not to see....
many years ago
i worked there...
the sadness
broke my heart..
silent tears
of broken spirits...
still burn my ears..
My eyes
looking in their eyes...
saw many things.
Grown children
once trusted and loved
refused to visit..
could not visit...
yet gladly spent
money their parents
sacrificed to save
for old age....
to save their children
the hastle of
a rest home's chores...
they say
if you sit
nieth the hill
you can see
the tears
as Angels
catch them
in golden cups
for God...

Greed.....

Greed will make you hungry
you'll never get enough...
it can tear a life apart
Greed is nasy stuff..
don't get greedy - don't be greedy
once you let yoursef be greedy
you can't go back again...
(i'm telling ya man...)
i know a man named Jessy
his Grandma was sitting good..
he set out to win her turst
and take everything he could..
he got greedy
he was greedy..
Jessy let himself get greedy
And He can't go back again...
Greed turns family on family
makes a friend the enemy
it can turn you on your Grandma
blinding you so you can't see..
it will turn you on your parents..
and tear your world apart..
there's no way you can change it
once you let it in your heart..
don't be greedy
don't get greedy..
once you let yoursef be greedy
you can't go back again...
once someone has been cheated
or swindeled it's a shame
greed will leave them cold and Angry
with only You to blame....
no one will ever trust you
trust gets burried in the past..
you're better of financialy'
but money it won't last..
don't get greedy don't be greedy
once you let yourself be greedy
you can't go back again...
once greed becomes a partner
and all is said and done..
when your lookin down at a grave...
can you really feel you won?
you now have more than others
you worked hard to steal it all..
others may have earned it but
your the one who made the call..
no one thought you'd do it
it never crossed their mind..
they trusted that you would be fair
but that was once upon a time...
you let yoursef get greedy,
you got greedy
And once you let yourself be greedy
you can't go back again....
someday you'll miss your sister
your parents and cousins too..
the black sheep of the family
will turn a lonesome blue...
don't be greedy, don't get greedy
once you let yourself be greedy
you can't go back again...

Thanks for stopping by....

If you made it this far...you must like poetry...to find my other blogs..go to
http://campconnie.blogstream.com
http://riverrat.blogstream.com
thanks for droping by....

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