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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2010 :  21:24:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The mute fortune teller talks to the sailor in sign. The sun clouds over and the rain does rain. Timpani over the water. Lightning forking out of the serpents tongue. A color she remembers. "Dream!" he commands when tarnished skies come to Durrow. Common miracles. Calamitous love. His well-worn wings. His mouth near her ruby-stung ear, breathing. In the dream-makers tent the sun stalls in melancholy splendor. Tops of old clotheslines. White sheets. Blue sky. A hedge edged with Mardi Gras flowers.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2702 Posts

Posted - 01/27/2010 :  17:27:23  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"A hedge edged with Mardi Gras flowers..."

All of it a treasure.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 01/27/2010 :  23:44:01  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Dear Reverend B~ Thank you for your kind words. I miss the campfire, the Cafe, and the company.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 01/28/2010 :  17:24:50  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
You're not old enough to have a past, he said, and turned to his magic cabinet. He lifted the lid on The Box of Names and handed her a scrap of paper. Mica-flecked, ale-colored air blowing in. Frantic waves throwing themselves against the jetty. No more nights of cold wings and bad dreams under the pillow. No cask of keening echos under the bed. No more small craft warnings. Goodbye to the old life of invitations. Creamy vellum. Emblazoned wax seals. All those foreign destinations.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 02/02/2010 :  20:47:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He carried his hands away from his body like a man who knew how to use guns. His horse knew how to out-run a posse.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 02/03/2010 :  19:21:55  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It comes to me that the people I know who most
restore my soul are mad, fierce, even frightening,
those spirits most likely to break out
in a keening-anchored laughter at any given moment,
their eyes pulled aside toward their ears,
foreheads glowing, death ever-present, underscoring
the life abundant in them, the life steaming
up from below, coloring them...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 02/04/2010 :  21:39:52  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
His rolled up cuffs weaving themselves into the ground summers ago. Bright dreams. Quaking aspen blazing around them. Moonlight. The asterisk in their life.

*

Oh, tangled history. Oh, brittle branches against the gate.

*

Looking for Armageddon. Not the cinematic trick of Illusion Land. "The real deal," he said. She said, "You watch too much television."

*

"You're standing with your nose up against one pixel. Step back. See the big picture," he said.

*

Two Spirits on the misted moor. Running.

*
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 02/05/2010 :  15:32:38  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
“Is a good man who does a terrible thing still good? You’re a preacher’s son, what ever happened to turn the other cheek?” she asked him.

“You’re not serious are you? Can you forget what he did to you...to the whole town?”

“If you kill him, won’t that make you just as bad as he is? You know I’m right don’t you?” she says.

“Are you really that naïve? If I don’t do it, who will?
Who else is fast enough to beat him in a fair fight?”

“Is killing a man fair? Do you think I could stay with you if you do this?”

“Do you think I could I could live with myself if I don’t?”

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2702 Posts

Posted - 02/07/2010 :  07:36:07  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ah.

Yes
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 02/07/2010 :  16:19:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
for Rodeo~

Leading the horses to water
With their great anvil profiles
Nodding close to our faces
His unmistakable silhouette
Rises against the night
He is a man who can slip a cold knife
Between his white teeth in a hurry
He knows what is necessary

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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 02/07/2010 :  16:30:53  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
When he sits down at the table in any restaurant, he knows what will go home in her purse. The way she fingers the demitasse cup and saucer, the miniature Eiffel Tower salt and pepper shakers. The condiment crosses at Cucina Del Dios. Well... Maybe not. She's a superstitious thief.

*

Harlem Nocturne Party II. The Columbia crowd reeking of ennui. His muse in tulle or taffeta. Hat with spotted veil. Her long neck bleached and shadowed like a Bassman photograph. His muse. Shorn hair and torn stockings, asleep outside his door. Her chandelier earrings. His blue, blue eyes. Surreal pas de deux with their fluid identies in free fall.

*

"Contrails. Pixels. Parallel lives. Light..." he says, "...like scent, it tells a story." He's looking at her so intently. His eyes are blue. Wearily shadowed. "No back story, please," she says.

*

"Cut!" the Director orders.


Edited by - Ailinn on 02/07/2010 16:38:11
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2702 Posts

Posted - 02/14/2010 :  06:54:46  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There was never such a moment
Til you
There was never such a sunrise
Til you
There was never such a time
That it was so hard to say goodbye
And I never missed a touch so much
And the look in someone's eyes...
Til you
Not Til you...

I never knew I was handsome
Or funny, or smart
Never knew I wasn't alone
Or that I had a heart
Now that you're gone
There's so much I didn't say
So much to remember
So much I have to pay

You made me feel like a movie star
So clever was your way
You made me feel beautiful
And that I began your day
I never did get thru to you
Just what you meant to me
I never made it clear, like you
Just how you made me see

That

I never had a song to sing
Til you
I never had a girl to miss
Til you
There's been so many days
In my life and times
But in the days before and after you
It seems that nothing rhymes

There was never such a moment
Til you
There was never such a sunrise
Til you
There was never such a time
That it was so hard to say goodbye
And I never missed a touch so much
And the look in someone's eyes...
Til you

Not Til you...

Hank Beukema - revbuckman music 2004
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 02/21/2010 :  17:30:46  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...not where she wanted to be. But there she was, hollow with longing. Trying to prepare for the next life. The one he believed in.
*

Antonio tended their garden. Alive where those around them were not. When lush velvet petals broke into bloom... When ferny, green vines curled around them. Antonio said it was a garden in the Spirit World. Antonio, too, though, is superstitious.
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 02/23/2010 :  06:56:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Aftermath

As time passed she longed to see him… as he did her. She stuck by her decision. He respected it. So there they were, mired in their isolation…mere miles from each other. He never went into town.She often regretted the pious choice she had made. She had gained an understanding of why he had to do what he had done. She never told him so.

So many lives were changed for the better. The town was a different place. Lives could be lived as they were meant to be lived.

Except for theirs.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2702 Posts

Posted - 02/27/2010 :  13:09:45  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He knelt in the August road and
told his son he loved him
for the last time
then slithered into a green bottle to drown.

When it overflowed and he fell out
much too late in the dance,
he sometimes thought it snowed too much
and that baseball was coming soon
but he mostly couldn't remember
why he cared;
about much of anything.

But he knew he could,
he knew he did,

once and future.
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andrew p
Firefly

USA
3935 Posts

Posted - 02/27/2010 :  19:07:24  Show Profile  Visit andrew p's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
bless you Hank...love ya man
andrew

"Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet." ~Roger Miller~
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1821 Posts

Posted - 02/28/2010 :  01:14:54  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There never was a place she could go to just sit and read and
relax, pictures forming in her brain from the words written
on two porches ..... the front and the back. Faces, images,
broken hearts, soul-searching, tributes to lost loved ones and
the ones just found, -- going through her mind at high speed at
times and slow at others. A gentle place to visit, with searchlights beckoning her to come
and to stay, in the blaring sunlight or in the purple haze that hangs so sweetly in the air
and makes it hard to leave when it's time to go. Like now.


BGee

Edited by - BarbraG on 02/28/2010 01:19:34
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Grania
Rocker

107 Posts

Posted - 02/28/2010 :  20:27:50  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Love to you, Reverend B.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 02/28/2010 :  20:55:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
-from Red Pictures, for JSD.

He came back. He looked the same on the outside. Handsome still. But every night he woke up screaming and he pinned her to their wet bed. No 911 number then. He told her how he set the Huey down. How they came in a wave running at him. 19 years old in Charlie country. His 3am sweat tasted like vinegar. In the morning what he wanted was two over-easy and toast. "Burn it!" he insisted. The plush cushion behind his wired spine. She brushed her long mahogany-colored hair. Permanent bruises on her delicate wrists. Blue shadows. He said he was getting comfortable with Death in the room while they tried to keep their lives from unraveling beside Interstate 5.

"...and in that time
when men decide to feel safe
to call the war insane,
take one moment to embrace
those gentle heroes you left behind."

Major Michael Davis O'Donnell
1 January 1970
Dak To, Vietnam

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Ailinn
Windchimer

1767 Posts

Posted - 02/28/2010 :  21:59:39  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...but!... Isn't the paisley sky beautiful!" she says. A spiral of honey hits his toast. Life before the Revolution.
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