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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/28/2011 :  19:14:49  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I am so weary of disappointing them.
I've seen how they look every dawn
for so long
I can't remember
a time before they came.

The time of the demons
seems long past, but
I can tell you that
it is sometimes as bad
to be haunted by angels...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1612 Posts

Posted - 04/28/2011 :  20:28:56  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Demons," he said, "They wake me up in the middle of the night. They haunt me." I had his long yellow pads and a telephone line that snaked around walls in the warehouse. A flare of light where the roll-up door met the dock. A makeshift desk and a Brita pitcher of water. I'd answer the phone and he'd start singing or saying a poem. Sometimes, "Get your head clear. Is it clear now?" before he'd read the pages. Often he'd switch subjects in the middle of a line. "...here, talk about this now..." Kaleidoscopic, his mind. Carnival lights on a rain-streaked windshield. I had to write very fast to keep up with him. And many copies because he kept changing things. "Shhh...here's more..." he'd say, "hahaha. Two tin cans and a thousand miles of string."
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3744 Posts

Posted - 04/28/2011 :  21:08:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
quote:
Originally posted by Ailinn

"Demons," he said, "They wake me up in the middle of the night. They haunt me." I had his long yellow pads and a telephone line that snaked around walls in the warehouse. A flare of light where the roll-up door met the dock. A makeshift desk and a Brita pitcher of water. I'd answer the phone and he'd start singing or saying a poem. Sometimes, "Get your head clear. Is it clear now?" before he'd read the pages. Often he'd switch subjects in the middle of a line. "...here, talk about this now..." Kaleidoscopic, his mind. Carnival lights on a rain-streaked windshield. I had to write very fast to keep up with him. And many copies because he kept changing things. "Shhh...here's more..." he'd say, "hahaha. Two tin cans and a thousand miles of string."



If I could put time in a bottle...
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/01/2011 :  14:14:23  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The insidiousness of evil and the
day to day insanity of life
can bring a person to their knees.

Sometimes it's not a bad place to be.

It all depends on what you're kneeling to
and
If you get back up.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1612 Posts

Posted - 05/01/2011 :  20:12:14  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"If I get drunk or if I pray
either way I'm on my knees."

*

"You are broken only if you break."
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/05/2011 :  03:31:26  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
She took all of the stars down
out of the sky and gave them to me
and I put them in a bottle
and drank them all.

Left a very dark sky.

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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 05/09/2011 :  09:53:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
If I could (have) save(d the) time (I lost) in a bottle.
written by: Jim Croce
(written by): (rjr)

Edited by - rodeo on 05/09/2011 11:04:07
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/14/2011 :  05:01:53  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I miss front to back to front again
just to prove we could.
I miss the smell of a dream of a memory,
in the backyard burning wood.
I miss most evrything the law allows
and in between the lines,
She was too much in this world
I was too much in this time.

She said, Things can't continue long this way.
I said, Little by little they don't.
There's so many things I've never done
But not too many that I won't.
The valley runs red and gold again
Winter's right around the bend
Blue blue skies and cold cold nights
Hearts and souls need time to mend.

A coyote sings Harvest Moon
in the woods beyond the yard,
I hum along with the melody
the words come too damn hard.
I climbed the ladder the best I could,
I slipped on that last rung.
Her memory's left the back of my mind
And gone straight to the tip of my tongue.

I miss most evrything the law allows
and in between the lines,
She was too much in this world
I was too much in this time.
The valley runs red and gold again
Winter's right around the bend
Blue blue skies and cold cold nights
Hearts and souls need time to mend.

Hank Beukema revbuckmanmusic 2010
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5422 Posts

Posted - 05/14/2011 :  08:42:05  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
THE ROAD TO SINTALUTA

Weary Greyhound station
The unwashed wait in line
I'm bound for Sintaluta town
See a friend of mine
The pumped-in muzak murders
One more sixties' song
We're late for our departure
What's taking them so long
A woman kisses her new beau
He can't help but grin
For love or Sintaluta
I am on the road again

No need to tag my baggage
I've learned to travel light
Offer me the whole buffet
I'd settle for a bite
The driver's from Alberta
Sips his cherry coke
Says he smokes a pack a day
But doesn't like to smoke
We're passing by a graveyard
Old granite in the rain
Death or Sintaluta
I am headed back again

Small town depot, three a.m.
These milk runs ruin sleep
Boy and mother hug goodbye
The mother starts to weep
He takes the seat beside me
Twelve, maybe thirteen
Says he's going to Regina
To see his aunt Irene
Says he's gonna live there
I don't ask him to explain
We're all going somewhere, kid
And fall asleep again

Swift Current before sunrise
Time to grab some food
Six dollars for a devilled egg
Waitress in a mood
My pal in Sintaluta
She grew up in this town
Kids, of course, a long divorce
Always moved around
I share my sandwich with the boy
The snow turns back to rain
Two hours to Sintaluta
I'm wide awake again
On the road to Sintaluta
Snow turns back to rain

DL
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1612 Posts

Posted - 05/14/2011 :  21:06:41  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He painted her portrait on the patio of a cliff hotel overlooking Acapulco Bay. Posed in a white wicker chair with her tanned legs tucked under, her canted hip against a summer pillow. Her slim, ringed fingers splayed on the tabletop like a restless five-spoke wheel. He painted her shelter-eyed, wary. A hesitant heart. He painted the gravity necessary to hold them in place. "A guileless art," later, he said. He said, "They'll bring something fragrant and distracting. Something lit or piled high on the plate. They'll place the food on a decorated table under a canopy of palms. They'll need help serving this meal. Anonymous waiters will appear. Blank as a fresh-stretched canvas. When we raise our glasses the shots will ring out. Part of everything happening in the mortal world. Am I right, baby? Does that sound right to you?"
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 05/19/2011 :  03:19:30  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
NO GUILE

was he a man
of temperance?
honest? innocent?
shy?

his very presence
always went
unnoticed.

was he a man
of dignity?
strong? loyal?
discreet?

attributes that
never attracted
a second glance.

was he a man
of essence?
faithful? resolute?
timid?

these are questions
that remain unanswered.

< >

he was a man
who had no guile--another had said.

unworldly,

"I don't know you" he said,
but they were words spoken in kindness,

the guileless one,
this naive' man
listened,
said nothing,
but loved deeply
instead.

he remains
an enemy of the world.


dR April 2011
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3744 Posts

Posted - 05/19/2011 :  17:48:36  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
quote:
Originally posted by aussiedave

NO GUILE

was he a man
of temperance?
honest? innocent?
shy?

his very presence
always went
unnoticed.

was he a man
of dignity?
strong? loyal?
discreet?

attributes that
never attracted
a second glance.

was he a man
of essence?
faithful? resolute?
timid?

these are questions
that remain unanswered.

< >

he was a man
who had no guile--another had said.

unworldly,

"I don't know you" he said,
but they were words spoken in kindness,

the guileless one,
this naive' man
listened,
said nothing,
but loved deeply
instead.

he remains
an enemy of the world.


dR April 2011



Miss you, pal.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/22/2011 :  17:36:30  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I sit in the dark
in the back of the cafe.

I barely exist.

The little identity I had
existed within the gun and the bottle
that always lay on the table before me
and no longer do which was why
I barely exist.

But something new and different
may emerge;
familiar, but tougher.

May even leave the cafe...

Manana.
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Becka
Sitter

95 Posts

Posted - 05/25/2011 :  13:54:39  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
May even leave the cafe ? ? ?

Nah... can't imagine that!
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Bill Smith
Windchimer

2388 Posts

Posted - 05/27/2011 :  07:58:33  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"In the ancient world people placed heavy stones on the graves of their dead so their spirits would not wander and afflict the living. I always thought that this was simply the practice of superstitious and primitive people. But I was about to learn that the dead can hover on the edge of our vision with the density and luminosity of mist, and their claim on the earth can be as legitimate and tenacious as our own."

Dave Robicheaux speaking in the movie, "In the Electric Mist."
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2011 :  08:30:07  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There are nights you never forget
for all the right reasons;
and then there are
the nights like the one underneath
a late August yellow moon
where a mistake becomes an unforgiven sin
and the search for redemption
haunts the rest of your days...
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Grania
Rocker

105 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2011 :  18:13:38  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Dear Reverend B-

We never leave. We take the Cafe with us.
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Bill Smith
Windchimer

2388 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2011 :  23:19:17  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
and then there are the nights you can't remember
the next day
and they might have been some of the best nights
who knows ...
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Becka
Sitter

95 Posts

Posted - 05/30/2011 :  07:36:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Bill, Some of those night are better left forgotten. Some of them, I remember, but won't admit to.....
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/30/2011 :  19:02:00  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I sit in the darkness,
in the back of the cafe.
Carmelita tries to come to me
But I send her away.

When the madness comes
it is the only time I feel
I know who I really am.
Most of the time
I leave myself behind somewhere,
somewhere in a past that
comes only in shadows;
Only in memories.

I wish my memory was in my heart,
so I could cut them both out
with one slice...
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