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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 10/16/2009 :  20:40:03  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
After the Fiesta I needed to be alone...

I ride NorthEast for many days
Where to be October
Means something...
Where I ran and fished and hunted
As a child and learned the ways
Of the woods and of the Great One...

The trees are aflame in
Their private moondance of fire...
Against the blue of My Hudson
Reflecting the cliff faces of Storm King
It plays the illusion the Old Ones called
Riverdeep mountainhigh...

I smile to think of my Other family
Now gone on high that walked this riverbank
With me so long ago...

Oh, They were so like the October trees,
Aflame and dancing with color and
Great beauty just before their private
Winter came and turned them gray...

In the creeping darkness,
I whisper a prayer
That they would
greet me in the spring
As the trees will,
Reborn and ready
For another fling
Around the Dancefloor...
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 10/17/2009 :  12:43:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It's hard when you see

That that man that you're hatin'

Is you in ten years.


Edited by - rodeo on 10/18/2009 08:39:58
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3762 Posts

Posted - 10/19/2009 :  20:05:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Random thoughts...

I was in the den, he was getting ready to go somewhere, I wasn't. He said, "OK, stay". I did. He walked out the back door, I didn't. He came back in, picked me up and wore out my backside. I cried...a lot. I was 3, he was 30.

I was running, running, running! My older brother, another friend and me. I was four years old. We were cornering by the cyclone fence. I slipped and fell. Hit my head straightways on the corner post. Momma wanted to know what happened. I was pushed. My brother got the alligator belt. I feel guilty to this day, almost fifty years later...

Going out with him, fishing. A small Scott, 16-footer. It was close to sunset, a Friday. He had talked about this moment for quite some time. I was lying in the bottom of the boat. He hooked a big bull redfish. It broke his wooden fishing rod that he had brought back from Japan while serving in the Navy during the Korean Conflict. He managed to land it in the boat, cut fingers from the fishing line and all. He was proud. I was too!

Long, hot days. Monotonous hours. Shrimping. East Bay. Robinson's Bayou. Troll for an hour. Pick up. Cull. Troll for an hour... tough and boring for a young fellow, but I was with my Dad.

Sun Oil Canal. A waterway between East Bay and the Intracoastal. Trolling one Saturday morning. The net was snagged. He took off his coveralls, preparing to dive in to get it loose. The six year old wanted nothing of it. He cried, worried that his father would get tangled up on the bottom. His father hid his laughter. He calmed down the young lad. He dove down twice, to no avail. He had to cut the port door off of the shrimp net. I was excited! An early day back home. This was only a fleeting optimism. We went to Charlie's Net Shop in High Island. Charlie lent him a door. Back to East Bay and the hot sun...

Moonlit night. A small craft fishing Moody's Reef. A seasoned waterman and his two sons. Fishing. Full moon reflecting on the slight chop. The boat was casually rocking. A few bites, nothing of significance, bait thieves, hardhead catfish or blue crab to be sure. Night's lodging in the old "duck hunters cabin". It offered us refuge for twenty five years...where I got my first rabbit. I didn't say I shot it, I just got it. Out of twenty-guage shells for the JC Higgins bolt action shotgun. An eleven year old Davy Crockett came across his first rabbit. It was dispatched much to his father's chagrin. (I still have that firearm. It will be given to Joshua Dylan Wilkins, about twenty some-odd years after he is born this December.)

The announcement. We are moving to Louisiana. Oh my God! But I am a Texan! I don't want to move over "there" with all those...those Cooneys!! My protest was to no avail...

All of my friend were left behind. I was distraught for a year. I had my twelveth birthday just outside Broussard. No friends, just family.

End of sixth grade. I scored the highest on the achievement tests. I scored in the 1st year of college level. (In Texas, we completed all of our school books. In Louisiana, well...you went just as far as you could go. If you got to the end, well, that was good. If you didn't? Well, that was OK, too.)

A year later, the children were asked about moving back to Texas. I was bound and determined to stay with all of those "Cooneys". I was getting to where I could understand them. It couldn't have been because I had a bit of French blood myself...just a bit. My father should have known. It was from his side. French Huguenots.

This is not the end of the story...just the beginning.

Craig
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Jonmark
Windchimer

USA
1785 Posts

Posted - 10/19/2009 :  22:02:55  Show Profile  Visit Jonmark's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Nice.
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Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4925 Posts

Posted - 10/20/2009 :  09:45:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I hope you keep this in your files, Craig, for your children and g.children to read. This is great reading.

We all need to write things down about our childhood and pass it on. I must do that.....one of these days.

Karen Runk
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3762 Posts

Posted - 10/20/2009 :  18:09:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The lives we live today are a result of what was written in our childhoods.

Craig
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 10/25/2009 :  16:40:10  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It's been quite awhile, my darlin
Since we first took those long river walks
Past the shops down in Garrison
When I first heard the way your eyes talked

I think it was the start of the romance
When you put your mouth close to my ear
You whispered Forever, it's only forever
I've waited for you to appear

Are they still serving beers down at Guinan's?
Do the ladies still dance Irish nite?
Do you think we can waltz by the fire
Do you mind if I turn down the lights?

La da da, da da da, la da da dee
La da da, da da da, la da da doo
La da da, da da da, la da da day
La da da, da da da, la doo....

We push and we strain, we run thru the rain
Trying to find the right one
There's no way to name it, no way to claim it
But getting there's half of the fun

Are they still serving beers down at Guinan's?
Do the ladies still dance Irish nite?
Do you think we can waltz by the fire
Do you mind if I turn down the lights?

La da da, da da da, la da da dee
La da da, da da da, la da da doo
La da da, da da da, la da da day
La da da, da da da, la doo....

Hank Beukema - revbuckman music - 2008




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BarbraG
Windchimer

1821 Posts

Posted - 10/28/2009 :  21:38:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The funeral procession advanced slowly into the cemetery
where he was to be buried. What a life he had lived !!
The celebration had just begun. He had brought so much
joy to everyone he had met, taking nothing and giving
everything. He was a man of the modern West, but he had
always dreamed of living in the days of Bill Hickock and
Wyatt Earp, with both guns blazing to stamp out those who
would take from others and who would kill to get it.

His hearse was painted like an Indian pinto pony. Friends
thought him a bit eccentric. Family adored him, knowing
that the man in the pinto hearse was the best man, husband
and father in the world. His legacy was the good he had
done with the fortune he had amassed over the years. He
had been a driving force in the lives of so many who had
started out with nothing... His family was so proud of
him.

"The evil that men do live after them ; the good is oft
interred with their bones."

Time would tell, as the celebration of his life began to
unfold on that snowy afternoon.... just a week ago today.

BGee
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3762 Posts

Posted - 10/29/2009 :  20:44:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Only write what you know. They'll know it when you lie.
Be careful who you tell your secrets to...

Craig
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1751 Posts

Posted - 10/31/2009 :  18:09:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
-for Craig.

"...and no sunglasses after midnight..."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1751 Posts

Posted - 10/31/2009 :  18:14:33  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It was a long time ago and a cold night when they crossed the River Shannon. In the denser light of Durrow they trod the cobbled shore. Up the hill to the house he invented. Feathers poking out of the quilt on their high iron bed. A bed they had to climb up into. "Forget time and what rhymes with it, Lady," he cautioned.

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Ailinn
Windchimer

1751 Posts

Posted - 10/31/2009 :  18:22:16  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A spectral fog rolls in on the coast of southern California. The stones turn and murmur under the sea. The moon taps its slender foot impatiently. His chair makes a scraping sound when he rises. She doesn't ask what brings him to his feet so abruptly. He's been sitting there quietly for centuries. The guttering candles in cups in the corner. The shuttered window and watery light. His one hundred reflections in the mirror in the middle of the night. The touched hand...the barrier broken...his walking shoes waiting beside the totem-edged shore.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/01/2009 :  06:02:14  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I said to Melinda,

I SO much disagree
with the notion of
"if I could do itallagainIwouldn'tchangeathing"
that it makes me just
a little nervous even turning
the clock back an hour.

She said,
I think I'd do it again, though
and just change
a few moments...

Yeah, I hear that, I whispered.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/01/2009 :  06:04:16  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Melinda said to me
You know it's not that big a leap
To think we might grow old together...
I said, it's beginning to feel more like
We might grow young together...

After I knew she was asleep
I sang Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key
Into her silent ear...
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 11/01/2009 :  16:23:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
She said,"It's hard for me to see how one little boy got so ugly".

I say, "Thank the Lord for little girls who love ugly boys".

rjr
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1751 Posts

Posted - 11/01/2009 :  16:53:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He stands at the campfire watching the bonnet-tops of the wagons disappear into mirage. She hastily unpacks her rescued trousseau. A star falls. Some shards of broken moon.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1751 Posts

Posted - 11/01/2009 :  16:56:59  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A talisman, an amulet, a pebble in his shoe. Won't let him sleep sleepwalking. The dream distilling until he steps through a hole in November's sky. Now they're dancing out on the rain-slick street. His damp cheek against her cheek.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/07/2009 :  07:46:53  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A tourniquet for the heart.
Wounds that no longer bleed.
Dreams with no visions.
Trees with no leaves.

Still digging underground
searching for the sunlight.
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 11/15/2009 :  16:04:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Cauterized by time
Deeds cause no pain and no strife
The wounds… part of life

Threw it all away
Choosing to go on alone
Doubt’s ugly head…gone
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1821 Posts

Posted - 11/15/2009 :  19:17:00  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Cruisin'. After midnight on unlit streets in the sad
part of town. Notice I said 'sad' and not 'bad'. Hungry
children trying to sleep. In my own little town. I feel
so guilty, having enough to eat and never having been
hungry. Local churches turn their heads toward Haiti or
Africa to minister to hungry children. What about the ones
in their own back yard? I don't get it. I just don't.
Is it me? We are flying over mission fields to get to
mission fields. There is enough money in my town to
take care of these children and allow them to believe that
America is a good and safe place to live. These hungry
babes are not the future of America ... they are the past.


BGee
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