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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
 Posted - 07/13/2011 : 08:20:08
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What came between,
"I sit in the dark in the back of the saloon..."
and
"If everybody went to heaven they'd run out of room.... "???
[quote]Originally posted by buckman
I sit in the dark in the back of the saloon...
What is between my table and the dusty
street is twenty feet that is
on the very edge of Hell...
The townspeople say they are sinners: the townspeople say they are evil...
The reality is that they are just Cowboys and
they are very much alive and much of the
rest of this town has already died... I talk to
the Lord and I Know what is Evil
and what is not,
which is why I hold services here and
not in a church....
These men make a decision
every time they put the whiskey to their
lips, every time they put the
tobacco to their mouths....
They make a decision between a
longer, duller life or the life
that they are choosing to live....
Yet I can see the desperation in
their eyes; I can see
that for every year that they age,
they remove themselves another year from their
childhood and their youthful dreams...
I can see that the only time
They will smell the
fragrance of a lady is
when they choose to pay for her...
I can see that they care not a
bit about Eternity, but only for today...
But, that is Just Alright
with me and the Lord
If everybody went to heaven they'd run out of room.... Rev Buckman
My, my, y'all(yeah, I'm southern).."...what a long strange trip it's been."
So, I'm looking back on old posts...
I broke my foot, OK?...
"they shoot horses...don't they?"
trivia ???...Horace who???? |
Edited by - rodeo on 07/13/2011 09:32:52 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2684 Posts |
Posted - 07/14/2011 : 18:36:50
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His eye may be on the sparrow
but some don't get a glance.
Kneeling on the road he asked
For another try at a second chance.
The wind it whispers memories
Of the moonlight and the boy.
He can hear that aching melody
Sing of loss and sing of joy.
Why does it seem some children
Get so far lost before they're found?
Fallen angels crying for mercy
Too scared to make a sound.
The anger and the sadness
Drown out the call of grace
Redemption visits a time or two
In the end there's not a trace.
Amazing how it spirals down
Once you start to lose your way.
The melodies and words get old
No new notes left to play.
The crooked roads, the shadowed halls
Seem normal for awhile
Stumbling thru the streets and alleys
Faces dying for a smile.
Truth be told, a battered heart
Can leave the ground and fly
The moment it leaves the hole it's in
Is the moment it hits the sky.
There's magic weaved into every day
It's in evry breath we take
A hero's role is in each of us
It's in the choices that we make.
His eye may be on the sparrow
but some don't get a glance.
Kneeling on the road he asked
For another try at a second chance.
The wind it whispers memories
Of the moonlight and the boy.
He can hear that aching melody
Sing of loss and sing of joy.
Why does it seem some children
Get so far lost before they're found?
Fallen angels crying for mercy
Too scared to make a sound.
Too scared to make a sound.
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San Diego
Rocker
394 Posts |
Posted - 07/15/2011 : 12:30:50
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Serendipity. Being in LA Tuesday when Canter's Deli celebrated 80 years in business with a block-long crowd. A hangout for writers, actors, and musicians because it's open 24/7 and just down the street from CBS. A special anniversary plate was offered 4pm to midnight. The $11.75 corned beef sandwich sold for 80 cents. 5000 pounds worth. Piled high on crusty rye, potato salad, sour pickle, and chocolate chip rugelach. An accordian player in rainbow-colored cowboy boots danced up and down Fairfax singing, "Hava Nagila, Hava Nagila, Hava Nagila, and pass the mustard please!"
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San Diego
Rocker
394 Posts |
Posted - 07/15/2011 : 13:06:46
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The Metropolitan Transit Authority and Cal Trans is demoing and rebuilding the south side of the Mulholland Drive Bridge, "widening it 10 feet and designing it to meet latest seismic standards. The bridge spans the 12 lane 405 Freeway which carries hundreds of thousands of vehicles each day. The 405 will close this evening at 7pm through Monday the 18th at 6am. Severe traffic conditions are predicted. The time allowed for the billion dollar project is 53 hours. Workers on top (80 feet high) are strapped into fall-protection gear, and concrete pieces raining down on the 405 should be no larger than basketballs." Chief engineer, Mike Barbour, who rebuilt the roads in Iraq says, "This is like performing heart surgery on a patient who is running a marathon." Mike has some other concerns; are the gas lines safe, will it cause a landslide, and... where will they put all the traffic? Los Angeles Mayor, Antonio Villaraigosa has a suggestion, "Go on vacation." Can't wait for the sequel next year when they demo and rebuild the north side.
(Quotes are from LA Times.)
Jet Blue Airlines offered a special which sold out in minutes. If you can get to Burbank Airport they'll fly you over the construction sight, a flight of approximately 6 minutes. The cost, 405. Four dollars and five cents. Back to you, Blaine. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1442 Posts |
Posted - 07/15/2011 : 13:13:25
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Reverend B-
"Kneeling on the road he asked
For another try at a second chance."
Canter's... Not the Stage, but not bad.
Rodeo-
Do you have posts from the original Old Blue Board? |
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Becka
Sitter
91 Posts |
Posted - 07/15/2011 : 13:38:47
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Rev....
Best verse =
Truth be told, a battered heart
Can leave the ground and fly
The moment it leaves the hole it's in
Is the moment it hits the sky.
There's magic weaved into every day
A hero's role is in each of us
It's in the choices that we make.
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 07/15/2011 : 15:32:20
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quote:
Originally posted by Ailinn
Reverend B-
"Kneeling on the road he asked
For another try at a second chance."
Canter's... Not the Stage, but not bad.
Rodeo-
Do you have posts from the original Old Blue Board?
I don't.
I think Mr. Beve may be the best/only source of any of those...
I never found out to what extent.
Mikey!?!? you out there, man? |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1442 Posts |
Posted - 07/15/2011 : 17:26:35
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| Thank you, Rodeo. I'm looking for the old Prodigy stuff and posts before October '99. |
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Jonmark
Windchimer
USA
1763 Posts |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1442 Posts |
Posted - 07/16/2011 : 16:22:20
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Thank you, Jonmark. I didn't get a computer until October '99. Smooth sailin' then. Three bells.
Post of Mick's on Old Blue Board:
FRONT PORCH
From ~*~
COMMENTS
Once a long while ago the world was all blue and gold. In the still of the night...they came...stealing the blue and the gold, leaving only the coldest of grey. It was that way for a very very long time; grey, so long the "Porchers" lost their memory of the wonderful porch. All but one....the WEBMASTER...who quietly went about to recover the light. He worked both night and day crunching the numbers in his solitary room while outside his window his friends all ran up and down the beach playing in the blue......you see...it was not their...or...even his blue that had disappeared....no....only the blue from the Porch. So why did he care...why did it matter to him. The "Porchers" seemed content to stare into their grey dull windows...day after day after day.. No one cared....they had not seen blue and gold for so long, they lost their appreciation for its beauty. All but One. ~*~
(posted the way he wrote it right down to the last...dot.) |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2684 Posts |
Posted - 07/16/2011 : 18:22:50
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| The Stage. Man at the door been there 50 years,watched his hair recede over the years into the bad rug that sits there now. Pastrami with melted swiss on rye.... and two plates. Cole slaw and onion rings that don't get eaten. A jar of mustard to go. Back out into the sunshine and madness of midtown glory and pain. |
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Grania
Rocker
102 Posts |
Posted - 07/16/2011 : 19:50:16
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Carbonated blood in that city.
A privilege to dance with you. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2684 Posts |
Posted - 07/17/2011 : 18:09:49
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There are a very few times,
between your birth and your death,
when a bright light shines into
the darkest corners of your soul
and you see everything clearly for a second,
like an illuminated black and white photo
of a crime scene.
Then the light goes black
and you spend the rest of your life trying
to remember what you saw.
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Becka
Sitter
91 Posts |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 07/18/2011 : 13:56:06
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quote:
Originally posted by Becka
quote:
Originally posted by Jonmark
According to the Beve, these are all that were saved:
http://www.jonmarkstone.com/bb/index.html
Jonmark..... a treasure.....
If matter is neither created nor destroyed,
mustn't there be more somewhere out there in that vast
splattershpere?
Come, OhBeveOneKenoBee; let us reason together. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2684 Posts |
Posted - 07/18/2011 : 15:47:39
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Re: Goodnight Sweet Prince
From: Mick
Email:
Remote Name: 12.225.134.3
Date: 09-Aug-2002
Time: 01:41 AM
Comments
It's been a sweet summer my brother.Call me. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2684 Posts |
Posted - 07/20/2011 : 20:05:13
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Murmers turn into whispers
Whispers turn into cries.
A scream heads for forever
In the valley of darkning skies.
Summer's oven blows full blast
The sound is now a shout
Hazy hot and humid
You're heading for a drought.
It's not the age that matters
It's the mileage on your soul
It's making all the pieces fit
That make the damn thing whole.
Did you lose him in a snowstorm?
Did you lose her in the rain?
Did you lose him to the laughter?
Did you lose her to the pain?
Did you share in her last sorrow?
Did you heal another's grief?
Some mornings brings you mercy
Some midnites bring a thief.
They have no clock they keep for you
To tell you when you'll heal
Some mornings find you dancing
Some nights you have to kneel.
It's not the age the matters
It's the mileage on your soul
It's making all the pieces fit
That make the damn thing whole.
Every river you've run so far
Has brought you to this place
The days and nights you've struggled
Full of folly, full of grace.
Redemption has a taste to it
It's like honey on your tongue
The musky smell of romance
When all the bells have rung
Murmers turn into whispers
Whispers turn into cries.
A scream heads for forever
In the valley of darkning skies.
Hank Beukema revbuckmanmusic 2011
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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3702 Posts |
Posted - 07/20/2011 : 20:31:50
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Who honors those we love for the very life we live?
Who sends monsters to kill us...
And at the same time sings that we'll never die?
Who teaches us what's real...
And how to laugh at lies?
Who decides why we live and what we'll die to defend?
Who chains us...
And who holds the key that can set us free?
It's you.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2684 Posts |
Posted - 07/24/2011 : 17:41:01
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To hear Albert tell it, August was to blame for everything.
If he could make it through August
he'd have it licked.
Albert felt that a few Augusts
had treated him despicably and
probably had changed everything.
Like,
August of '67, still a kid,
when he found that by drinking the
foul amber liquid the fear was gone.
Yes, it was only for awhile but awhile
was better than every waking moment.
August of '91 when Albert was so boxed in
by darkness that he punched a hole through
it and came out into a deeper darkness
than he ever imagined existed,
while the only light he had known faded
back into a long mountain tunnel.
August of '92 and the boy and the road.
At that point Albert would usually say,
I rest my case and tip the Jameson's back.
Yeah, it must have been August that was to blame....
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Ailinn
Swinger
1442 Posts |
Posted - 07/24/2011 : 19:15:10
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| He's on his knees. Cold nights at his shoulders. A sea window to comfort him. A candle burning on the fog-damp sill. Salt-encrusted finials on their high iron bed. His storm-smudged eyes, journey-driven. |
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The Nightly Vigil