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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/01/2010 :  11:45:17  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"It makes no sense- It makes perfect sense." Alejandro Escovedo

There were too many kids in our family;
well, it was just me and my brother,
but at the age of six after being the
child-king for so many years,
that was too many kids.
There is an apocryphal story
[that means I'm not sure I believe it, Ralph]
that my Dad likes to tell,
that one night they found me sleepwalking,
holding a pillow over my new baby brother's sleeping face.
I sleptwalked a bunch as a kid and it loomed large
[yes, Ralph, like a missed extra point]
in later years when I would drunkwalk
and could blame "something" else for what I did.
For all the horrendous words and deeds that
I subjected my brother to in the past decades
he treats me pretty damn well.
And I love to see who he has grown into and
despite the challenges thrown at him
continues to give to others more than he takes
[which I never could get the hang of.... yet.]
I feel like we have this Zenlike relationship
full of love and respect, but at a little distance,
yet born of care and concern, even tenderness,
without question or involvement.

Wish I could tell him all of this, but I can't, yet,
but think he probably knows.

It makes no sense- It makes perfect sense.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/01/2010 :  12:02:12  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I wrote to my friend, I'm so sorry that her and your struggle is over. People say alot of things that are meant well, but rattle around so much they almost become meaningless...
But, there is that one thing that remains: love, before and after.....

" Small said, But what about when we are dead and gone, will you love me then, does love go on?
Large held Small snug as they looked out at the night, at the moon in the dark and the stars shining bright. "Small, look at the stars, how they shine and glow, some of the stars died a long time ago, still they shine in the evening skies, for you see, Small, love like starlight never dies..." No Matter What - Debi Gliori

Know this:

The first thought every day,
The first breath upon wakening,
The first step onto the floor.
will be about her...

There is no shame, no blame, no pity
in this for however long it lasts.

Everyone left behind
has a different capacity for survival.
But the scar, whether healed or healing
will stay always, as it should,
as a reminder of a flame that burned
so brightly and
a spirit that will never leave you...

Hank Beukema 2006
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1756 Posts

Posted - 01/01/2010 :  14:05:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Still learning to edit, Reverend B. Love to you and Ralph on this first day.

Dumping peroxide into her ears New Years Eve he says, "Remember December's melancholy sunsets." Red time. The clock coming down. That sharp elbow when the sun falls out of the sky. His eye on the wave rolling in. His heart-shaped shovel. Her starry tears. Her belled shoes, waterlogged. He feels the wind break him. The keening harpies, too. Their sad songs when he comes forward in his dark robe to console them. Lays his blue heart on the table. Then the house invents itself around him. The wind at the top of the cliff winnowing through the breezeway. The salt settling on the finials of their high iron bed.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/01/2010 :  16:43:38  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ah, There it is. Missing some words at the begining, I think; there was a word I didn't know... But I'll take it like it is; priceless, yet free. Bowing and sending love west
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/10/2010 :  09:56:31  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Some storms shake the walls and rattle the windows.

Some storms last forever.
Some storms make you wish you'd never been born.
Some storms shake the house so badly
you wonder how the old thing stays standing.
Some storms cut everything loose that were already loose.
Some storms put you in your place.
Some storms are worse in the anticipation than the act.
Some storms eat you for dinner.
Some storms take a long time to get over.
Some storms cut your heart out.
Some storms are your daddy.
Some storms shake your nerves and rattle your brain.
[Goodness, gracious, Great balls of fire]

Some storms you never want to end.
Some storms bring rainbows.
Some storms bring rebirth.
Some storms are your mother.
Some storms wrap you in their arms.

Some storms are just what you needed.

Edited by - buckman on 01/10/2010 12:18:33
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San Diego
Rocker

456 Posts

Posted - 01/10/2010 :  15:41:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
ROUGH waves out there this morning. Screaming seagulls. Some wearing bright red lipstick. We come out of the water bruised and blue.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1756 Posts

Posted - 01/10/2010 :  15:56:35  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Adam stands at the edge of The Garden, light breaking through his bandaged side. His mystery, absolute. She wants to disarm him. Know his mind. In the end he asks all the questions.

Speeding down the Freeway of the Last Commute, he grins in the sun-charged air. She loves his lack of despair. The risk he's taking for the life they're about to discover.

The list he adds to every day. Notes in the margins. Dates in the future. When the weight of his imagination grows too heavy, he tips back in his gravity-defying chair and falls into sleep at the table. Thyme and lemons. Honey in jars. Gleam on all the glasses.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1756 Posts

Posted - 01/11/2010 :  20:12:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Before the sun leaks out. Before shadows step from smudged corners.

Life with the lighthouse keeper. Some nights she climbs the stairs. Leaves her lantern on the landing. Lemon rind moon above. Equal parts mischief and art.

She has bells on her shoes fastened with invisible fishline. They make a small music when he takes her into the sky. The moon, a bright sickle above them. The astonishing star-pierced sky.
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 01/12/2010 :  08:38:50  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Little I Know
But Something does guide me.
Small things I ask
But I'm given others.

All I once needed
Now seems less important.
And the dreams that possess me
Bind--rather than free.

joe

.....sounds like Yoda did the phrasing on this.

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/13/2010 :  16:46:09  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Writes fine, does Yoda
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/13/2010 :  18:59:00  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Drastic change daily.
Never be the same again is a cliche for the dead.
Pendulums fight for the last spot on stage.
Terry cloth cavaliers catch lost generations.
Home on the range on the carnival calliope.
Last chance to get the sweetbreads hot, child.
Many rivers crossed but still swimming.
Night watch gladiators on the phone,
stomping out fires on the other coast.
Tremulous times of empty pockets and full hearts.
An old school with a young body,
Armenians from Hollywood and Vegas,
Italian comedian jugglers in black,
Always with the jokes, never clowns.

Do ya
do ya
do ya
wanna dance
under the moonlight?

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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 01/13/2010 :  19:50:51  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Have you ever held something
until your hands were aching
Then let it go and watched it fall
and listened to it breaking?
I have held back time and tide
when all the world was plenty
Now my hands are open wide,
open wide and empty
For every breath that leaves me now
another comes to fill me
For every death that grieves me now
the next will surely kill me
Those borders crumble every day
the fault-lines are showing
And all I thought was here to stay
slowly is going...

Karine Polwart
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/14/2010 :  03:16:05  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Love lost on a peat moss roof,
untold fortunes spent in the woods.

Newbury and Townes are gone and I don't feel so good myself.
Wake me up when we're over the water, mommy.
Trap door Jezebels yearning to breathe free
struggle to Ellis Island in the rain.
Coinciding conundrums tossed away in the gutter.
Dueling divas playing footsie in the hot tub,
nevermore to surface quoth the raven.

The days were so much longer then,
but
now and again it's
a joy to smell the warm spot
on the back of your neck.

Edited by - buckman on 01/14/2010 14:43:48
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/15/2010 :  16:57:56  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
They lived in a bungalow in 72.

In the woods, in the Valley,
an old Jewish camp
[Melody Lane]
with bungalows split into two apartments
with a thin wall between them.
Nights, Buck could hear the fat couple next door
coughing and fighting,
Carm making him promise they'd
never get like that.

He tried to be a good provider,
but he was new at this,
fresh from playing a bum for years
and not caring about anybody or anything
but himself,
oh, but he could be so passionate,
about politics or girls or music.
Drove a taxi seven nights a week
twelve hours a night and never got anywhere
but still moving.
[at least.]
[sort of.]

He still didn't know why
Carmelita had come east with him;
but it didn't matter anymore...

That horse and rider had slipped over the horizon long ago.

[sort of.]

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/15/2010 :  17:39:09  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It took hours to peel him off the sky.

The acid hit as Buck stepped out of
the VW van and waved goodbye to the ride.
It was a rest area on the Penn Turnpike
and within minutes he would forget
[in no particular order]
where he lived,
where he was going,
his name.

After six hours sitting on the front curb,
they asked him to leave and he mumbled,
Where?
The old lady said, Pittsburgh,
and her and a young waitress
helped him across the highway
and heading west.

Somewhere in the next car
he remembered living SOMEwhere
in Pittsburgh...

Where-
would take a few hours more.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1756 Posts

Posted - 01/15/2010 :  21:42:13  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Shade
Cloaked and hooded
Oars at the ready
Souls in the lifeboat
Waving goodbye
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 01/16/2010 :  01:04:32  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
MIDNIGHT RADIO

The howling sky is frozen, the lonely moon is shaking
Not a soul in the street and snow is falling down
The radio at midnight, some song out of the Sixties
A cup of hot black coffee steadies my right hand
If one heart is broken, a single soul forsaken...
I’m ten thousand miles from that devastated town
Turn off the television, driven crazy by the pictures
“Go down, Miss Moses,” I am singing with The Band
If anything is growing under all this snow here
Spring will bring the answer and the ground will freeze no more
Tonight I'm at the mercy of the helplessness I know here
Got Carmen and the Devil and a wolf outside the door

The cottonwoods are naked and the wind is in the cedars
Snow is drifting higher halfway up the sides of cars
The deejay must be sleeping, the songs keep on coming
Singing, “People get ready,” that old Curtis Mayfield tune
How did the hopeless sinners all end up being leaders
How did our dreams and visions end up distant as the stars
Light a candle now, a hundred mercy ghosts to summon
“There is no hiding place,” I am singing to the moon
And if anything is growing under all this snow here
Spring will bring the answer and the sun be our reward
And if that train is coming, Curtis, let its whistle blow here
‘Cause I, for one, am ready now to get on board

The quieter the night outside, the louder grows your thinking
I’m coughing up convictions rendered after crooked trials
I’m ten thousand miles from the broken hearts of Haiti
Where souls have been forsaken, you can see it in their eyes
I pour another coffee, more for comfort than for drinking
“We’d like to know a little bit about you for our files”
Paul and Artie singing from that Dustin Hoffman movie
Anne Bancroft showing him the Promised Land of thighs
And if anything is growing under all this snow here
Spring will bring the answer and the sentence fit the crime
I say to hell with heaven, let goodness start to grow here
Rise up from its hiding place, we’re running out of time

The howling sky is frozen, the lonely moon is shaking
Not a soul out in the street, snow comes softly down
The radio at midnight, a song out of the Sixties
A cup of hot black coffee steaming in my hand
Here is to compassion, lead us to the road not taken
I’m ten thousand miles from that devastated town
Sing to bring the feeling, driven crazy by the pictures
“Go down, Miss Moses,” I am singing with The Band...

DL
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San Diego
Rocker

456 Posts

Posted - 01/16/2010 :  17:42:38  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Today we celebrated Ralph and Catherine's 5th anniversary. They're in their 80's now, and visiting from Apple Valley. Ralph is blind and uses his DayGlo-tipped cane like a royal scepter. Catherine wore her "First Christmas" shawl and made it down in record time in Ralph's Jeep Cherokee. "A real Jimmie Johnson!" he calls her. They like their food hot and spicy, "...serve with a fire extinguisher." We lit the lanterns and cranked up the patio heaters. Mirella's jalapeno-mango mystery sauce on everything that hit the grill. Butane torches for the caramel flan. They'll stay with their son in Escondido tonight, then off to meet some snow-bird friends on the desert. Safe trip, Happy Anniversary, and God bless Mr. & Mrs. Ralph Gardner. ...and to another couple celebrating their 5th later this month, Happy Anniversary to the great Northwest!
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1756 Posts

Posted - 01/16/2010 :  17:49:34  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Many nights smoking Marlboros in the limo with the AD waiting for the wind to come up or calm down. The second-unit camera crew asleep in the van. The day's Changes across her chest in a belt bandolier-style, a long way from the cobbled coast of Durrow. It's slow-going on Laurel through the canyons, and no numbered address looking west to the house where he's waiting. Directions written on leaves. A script that's constantly changing. Turn here. Turn there. The switch-back trail. The freeze-frame profile in the doorway slowly fading.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 01/17/2010 :  07:57:42  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Scent of Emaraude mixing with the lilacs.
Beach on Martha's Vineyard at sunset,
surrounded by flat-headed Beetlebung and Menemsha trees.
Tanned skin making her white dress glow
as the tide comes in.
Last dance with Leah in the wet sand before
running away to California.

What's she doing now, forty years on?

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