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San Diego
Rocker

435 Posts

Posted - 08/29/2009 :  17:59:51  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Two tin cans...and...a thousand miles of string..."
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 08/30/2009 :  01:09:50  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
My last night there, Ailinn, after dinner with Christy, he drove us
to Phoenix Park and then over to Chapelizod. We crossed the bridge
that is called Anna Livia, or Droichead Abhainn na Life. It was
renamed on the 100th anniversary of Joyce's birth. Frank Harte,
the great ballad collector and a dear friend of Christy's, lived
in Chapelizod.

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,925569-1,00.html
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1578 Posts

Posted - 08/30/2009 :  15:48:00  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Doug, I liked her limbs and high forehead in the fountain, but I don't know where she rests now. That whole bunch from the Wake, though...they're all waiting for us at the big table.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 08/30/2009 :  20:47:29  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I found the best way to read Joyce was to drink one shot
of Jameson's per page. It took me about three years to
finish Finnegans Wake. By then I'd learned to walk on glass.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 08/30/2009 :  20:59:22  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The thing you realize after being on the island a littl ewhile
is that the nearby pub is the neighbourhood's living room. It
belongs to the people. Houses and rooms are small, tighter, and
an evening walk and visit to the pub is a social tradition. The
drink is part of it, sure, but it's the gathering that keeps the
spirit going. There's always a corner where the guitars, whistles
and ballad singers hold court. No matter the cost of a pint - and
it's too much now for everyman - you'll always find the folks in
the pub, three generations of them, having a laugh, heated debate,
telling tall stories, catching up on the news firsthand, making
fun of it all before joining in on the chorus right on key.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1578 Posts

Posted - 09/04/2009 :  17:06:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

For you I undress down to the sheaths of my nerves.
I remove my jewelry and set it on the nightstand.
I unhook my ribs, spread my lungs flat on a chair.
I dissolve like a remedy in water, in wine.
I spill without staining, and leave without stirring the air.
I do it for love. For love I disappear.

Kim Addonizio
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Bill Smith
Windchimer

2387 Posts

Posted - 09/04/2009 :  21:46:41  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Unbelievable! We get one day of heavy sleet and freezing rain every two or three years, and you pick this one for your burial.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 09/05/2009 :  20:35:02  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I understand Death's contract
and the finite ends of life:
however long a man lives
he lives only to die.
At the end, every scream
pours like a river into silence,
but the most dazzling star
is that which shows the caravan its way
when moss has covered our memories
and grief runs wild through the house.

Muhammed Al-Faituri
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3744 Posts

Posted - 09/20/2009 :  19:03:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
More on East Bay...later. Memories, thoughts, and secrets...

"Be careful who you tell your secrets to..."

Believe it or not, I am a simple man...

Craig
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Ginny G.
Windchimer

USA
1806 Posts

Posted - 09/20/2009 :  21:15:34  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"'Bein' lost is worth the comin' home."

Neil Diamond, "Stones"
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1578 Posts

Posted - 10/03/2009 :  16:04:30  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
They're walking slowly down the beach in the wine-colored light as the sun slides toward Hawaii. The Blue Sailors are still. Tiny jellyfish. Stingless almost. Saphires in the sand. The twilit canyons are filling up like clay bowls behind them. Brimful. The laurel is alive with delirious bees in October. A blizzard of broken branches. "You an' me, Ma'am..." he says as light breaks through his bandaged side. He guns the engine when they finally step off the page.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 10/04/2009 :  17:19:13  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It was after midnite she came up to my room.

Eyes aglow in the moonlight three feet above mine.
Smell of lavender & oranges.
She said quietly, It's time for me to go.
I said, I don't suppose we could
roll around a little for old times sake...
She said, Your credit's all used up
and turned and left me...

I still loved watching her leave...

~*~
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 10/04/2009 :  17:29:07  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
City Lights Book Sellers, 1970.
Mr Ferlinghetti was always so kind.
I would pass by, nod, go downstairs
with a bottle of wine and grab a book
and read.

Nobody ever said a negative word to me
about what I was doing.
I believe I first read Neal Cassidy's The First Third there.
I know I lifted my copy of Howl from the rack
on the landing of the stairs.
[Yeah, I know, but I had no rules;
if i wanted it or needed it,
it was mine.]

My income was $10.00 a day,
between the bloodbank and the doorman gig-
I could not spend money on books.

So much started from that building,
not just for me, but for all of us.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 10/04/2009 :  20:25:24  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
No more the back of the saloon, though I miss it.
The table, the bottle; you painting in the corner.

Remember?

The figurines on the tabletop.
The dusty pictures on the walls,
the white bearded handsome man
that sings his waltzes quietly in the corner...
The friends stopping by on the odd nite.....

I get up at 5:30 now and tend the farm
before the real work starts - pretending
all day that I belong in the real world.

I go to bed early. I write dirty poetry
and drink Propel water [@#?#].

The room goes on forever....

Spin around for me sweetheart,
I love to listen to you dance.
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1802 Posts

Posted - 10/05/2009 :  12:02:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Dear Hank !!!!!

Is it really you ? I have missed you, my unknown
poet friend. There are those on these porches that
really touched my heart from the beginning and you
are most certainly one of them.

How about doing a New Topic and just say hello if
you will. Well? Will you, Hank? You have so
many friends here, and did you read what Andrew said?
Huh, Hank ? Huh?

WHY you been gone so long, Hank? You come on back,
now, and generate some new stuff that I know is just
waiting to pop out of your chest and your brain.

You have been reading this stuff and finally jumped in.
The water's still fine, and warm.
This request isn't a challenge, friend. Its a heartfelt
request.

Love,
BarbraG
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Grania
Rocker

104 Posts

Posted - 10/05/2009 :  19:33:48  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Dear Reverend B, I do remember our first dance...a waltz beside a campfire under western stars. How your musings on The Silver Moon enchanted...how when we stepped through those batwing doors we found a haven for wandering souls to tell their story before heading down the road. I see you and Illiance sitting in the haloed light over the card table with that wild-eyed spectral dog at your feet. I'm leaning on the broom, turning the chairs up on the tables every night, sweeping the dirt into a pile by the door. And that handsome man in the corner with the guitar...he's there, too.

You're right. The room goes on forever.
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 10/05/2009 :  20:50:53  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I can't remember the first time I saw him but, when I did, I knew he'd seen me many times. Not just from his usual seat, where he must've sat and watched me wallow in my new found fame over and over again... but years and years before...back in "the day"...in himself.

After we met, he said he didn't know whether to sit me down and tell me that "young guns" seldom become "old guns"...or to wait and see whether I'd die...or learn how to live.

Must've been pretty amusing to him; disappearing for weeks...even months at time; then...showing up and sitting down in that same old spot (his spot)...waiting to see if I'd walk in...if I was good enough to keep walking in...or... if he'd hear one day...


Edited by - rodeo on 10/06/2009 11:42:25
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3744 Posts

Posted - 10/05/2009 :  22:00:48  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Moonlit night, clear night. Lunar reflections upon East Bay. It lights up the entire bay. No lights are needed.

The waterman and his two sons. The Bolivar Lighthouse, sweeping it's broad light for all to see.

Cloudless night. Stars sparkle in the jet black night as brilliant as the most radiant of diamonds. The waves slap, slap, slap the side of the small wooden boat. A rocking rhythm is developed by the occupants of the small craft.

Anchored. Hannah's Reef. A few bites here and there, not much action. It doesn't matter, it was the moment, even to one of the sons not quite nine years old. These are the nuggets of our memory we all remember. Bits and pieces of time...treasures more precious than pure gold...

Craig

Edited by - Craig on 10/06/2009 00:11:24
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 10/06/2009 :  18:30:23  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I have marveled at her quiet strength and dignity.

The way she has suffered at the hands of men
yet has not lost her love for all men...
I have marveled at how she has met all
that she feared and in so doing has nothing left
To fear...

I have marveled at one that appears so empty and aching
herself yet can find a wellspring to give others to drink...

I have marveled at how from a cold room
a world away she can appear silently and
warm my cold room and heart of stone...

I have marveled that The Great One
continues to remind me how
wonderful a woman can be...

Oh yes,
I have
So marveled ....
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1802 Posts

Posted - 10/06/2009 :  19:44:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Hankie,

Let's talk, just you and me...

roynnbarb@comcast.net

Love
BarbraG
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