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Ailinn
Windchimer

1594 Posts

Posted - 12/17/2009 :  20:18:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don't patch the cup.
Don't even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don't keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the dolls tiny shoes in pairs, don't worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic--decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don't even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don't sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we're all eating cereal for dinner
again. Don't answer the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in through the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don't read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity.

Louise Erdrich
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1594 Posts

Posted - 12/17/2009 :  20:20:54  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

"...the shallowness of sanity..."

Joan Didion
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/20/2009 :  11:32:33  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Melinda asked me if I would tell her
What I could never tell Carmelita or my horse.

I told her that
Truth be told,
I had forgotten where I hid the moon...

I said,
I was hoping you could help me with that...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1594 Posts

Posted - 12/20/2009 :  15:15:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Making Movies

Where the dead live
Peace comes armed
The moment he backs out of
The Mercantile Bank's double doors
Jump cut to Overland Stage arriving
Cloud of dust when the woman steps down
Wide angle shot of tumbleweed
Zigzagging down State and Main
Close up of principal's guns blazing
Freeze the frame, then
Fade to black
Smash cut to hilltop cemetery
Zoom in on the granite stone
Outside the arc lights periphery
Many hands are wringing
Many eyes are stinging with tears
In spite of it all
He keeps his identity clean

He reads her folded letter;
'How's the Rodeo Circuit
Or are you still riding for the Brand?
I'm wearing the gold ring
You left in your old saddlebag
(Your handwriting
Your dream
The plot in your heart
God sees)'
He tips back in his gravity-defying chair
Shuffles the cards and deals
Years notched with a rusty knife
Into the old pine-top table
He's a dangerous editor
A permanent cut
Sends no messenger with ardent reprieve
So close your eyes, he says
Fold your hands over mine
Put your mouth against my ear
And breathe

*
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1594 Posts

Posted - 12/20/2009 :  15:17:27  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Some nights last forever.
Some dreams never die.

Mickey Newbury
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Grania
Rocker

104 Posts

Posted - 12/22/2009 :  21:47:31  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Thank you for the knowledge of heartbreak.

~Graffiti in the flood-control "Caesar" tunnel
under the Las Vegas Strip~

Forgive her unhappiness, Brother
Her noisy trouble
Her hold-out stash
Her up-to-the-minute Greyhound pass
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/23/2009 :  04:01:55  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There's a certain sound a heart makes
When it starts to come apart
It ends up roaring in your ears
But it's quiet at the start
Like a freight train moving slowly
Building speed along the way
You find yourself alone again
With nothing left to say

There's a moment when a heart breaks
You can almost mark the time
It happens when it comes to you
There's no reason left to rhyme
When there's no way left to make it work
No magic that's not been tried
Two people go their separate ways
With both left wondring why

But now you get up evry morning
Get dressed and do your duty
And you cry yourself to sleep at nite
Without her laughter and her beauty
A man's a man who can run the race
When all his hope has failed
You never know what dreams may come
Further down the trail

There's a certain sound a heart makes
When it starts to come apart
It ends up roaring in your ears
But it's quiet at the start
Like a freight train moving slowly
Building speed along the way
You find yourself alone again
With nothing left to say...

Rev B
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Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4923 Posts

Posted - 12/23/2009 :  09:23:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
You always tear/teer me up, Hank.

Karen Runk
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/29/2009 :  20:37:08  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I said to her,
Lately when I go to grab for a thought,
just before I reach it, it bubbles
on and up and away,
just far enough that I can't get it;
What's that about?

She said,
It's about time,
it's about wasted days and nights and years
and whole periods of endless flight
and it's about payback and
a reminder that nobody gets It for free...

Um, She said,
Other than that,
I don't really know.
Take an aspirin...
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Grania
Rocker

104 Posts

Posted - 12/30/2009 :  20:35:00  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"It becomes more important to
leave the past right where it is-
Every minute...

Surround yourself with now..."

Reverend Buckman
12/21/07

"...leave the past right where it is..." Every minute. I love your heart, Reverend B. Happy New Year!
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/31/2009 :  18:14:15  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I said to her,
Go ahead,
Tell me, I'll listen;
or I'll find the one of me
that can pretend I'm listening
well enough for you not to know.

She said,
Are you gonna talk all night
or are we gonna kissyface?

Um, kissyface?
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/31/2009 :  19:50:42  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Miz Ailinn, where did that paragraph go? A novel in three lines. Every word a treasure.
I came back to read it and now I think I dreamed it.

Maybe i did
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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

1594 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

435 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

1594 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

1594 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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