Mickey Newbury Web Board
Mickey Newbury Web Board
Home | Profile | Register | Active Topics | Members | Search | FAQ
Username:
Password:
Save Password
Forgot your Password? | Admin Options

 All Forums
 The Back Porch
 Open Topic
 The Nightly Vigil
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
Previous Page | Next Page
Author  Topic Next Topic
Page: of 151 Lock Topic Edit Topic Delete Topic New Topic Reply to Topic

Joey L.
Swinger

USA
1355 Posts

Posted - 03/23/2005 :  00:30:01  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
T.S. once told me ... (or so I shall paraphrase ...)

"we shall not cease from exploration,
and the end of all our exploring,
is to arrive from where we started,
and know the place for the first time ..."

How many times have we arrived ... from where we have started???

A friend in time and space,

J3

The Future's Not ...
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 03/24/2005 :  19:23:36  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A woman lies in tall grass. Propped up on her elbows. An open book on the ground. A ladybug crossing the page. Its black and red bright as enamel. The woman doesn't notice the ladybug. Or the ants climbing the crook-staff green blades. Her eyes are full of the man sleeping beside her. His effortless, steady breathing. And how the back of his wrist makes a shadow blindfold to shade his dear eyes from the sun. Before he fell asleep he spoke of things elemental. Radiant. "All the dashed glass out there on the crystal-edged freeways. All that chipped and fractured light..." Across a field of swaying palo verde windchimes are ringing from abandoned barn eaves. It's the week before Easter. The season of bells.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 03/26/2005 :  18:27:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
My library is on a street named Dove Lane. Adjacent to the Mall where the old library stood two-storied. The back side sliding over Coast Bakery and Baskin Robbins 33 flavors. Way hard to park in summer. Where Stu often sits in the truck with the windows rolled down waiting for me to pay my overdue fines. His crosswords spread around him. A light breeze lifting the stack on the dash. His stash of dog-eared pages. And coffee and an iced cinnamon twist. His lifetime favorite. So sweet I shiver and feel my teeth dissolving. The new library has more books and better parking but Stu still waits for me in the other lot. Where seduction is simple. Cinnamon behind one ear, vanilla behind the other.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 03/26/2005 :  18:36:48  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
We're taking the kids to the fire rings to make S'Mores after church tonight. Candy after Lent. For 3 bucks each kid gets a stack of graham crackers, a sack of marshmallows, a slab of chocolate, AND their own L O N G BBQ fork. The fork and the fire is the attraction. And being out under the stars. Folks hang out by the rings and make a picnic. By the trellis where the Double Delight roses grow heavy and big as saucers. Mirellas's black bean and spicy avocado dip. Blue corn tortilla chips. Margaritas in canning jars. Ralph and Catherine will be there. And Lupe with her relatives from El Paso and Ensenada. Angels flying back and forth all day. Feel their frisson wings. Happy Easter to the Porch! Love and blessings to The Wizard.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 03/29/2005 :  19:17:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
In the wheelhouse 30 feet up. 360 view of the Harbor. He looks back to shore. To a house with sun shining the windows he designed for her heart. The magic part he listened for. The tangled music. The scraps in her sewing drawer waiting for the right thread. The pattern repeating itself on her loom. A fretted thread woven in with lambent light. Be this a medieval tale, then. An old story changing as it's told. There was a man who laid his heart on the table. The moon in the attic undoing the dark knew him. And the salty stars climbing the stairs.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 03/30/2005 :  18:54:02  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Clouds of flowers climbing the freeway overpasses. Leaves thickening green on the trees. Monet lilies in the reflecting pond at Balboa Park. The blooming world 4 days away from Daylight Saving Time. Here comes Spring in her white veils stirring the stars and the branches. Weathermen in San Diego say, "Early morning coastal fog, then clearing and 70 degrees..." (Stu hasn't trusted weathermen since he shoveled three feet of "partly cloudy.") Tonight the sun set spectacularly with a patch of ravens against the sky. Now we're cooking Chinese for Jeffrey and Cameron and their sleep-over friends. Find your future in a fortune cookie.

PS Can anyone tell me why Stu's grocery coupons expire the night we have a houseful of kids?
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/01/2005 :  17:44:52  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I missed Easter... Opened a liter of Irish Thursday night, got another friday and another Saturday... Took til Weds to be back on the planet as one of my personalities... That night my Daddy's little brother, Rev Jack Beukema died from his battle with the cancer... Same kind as Barb's and worked the same way: December the two Revs were hunting, Dad 79, little Jackie 68, out in upstate NY hunting together as they had done for 60 years, not caring if they got a deer, just loving spending time outdoors with each other... But then when it started Really taking him, it took him down quick... My dad has lost his best friend and I Will have a sober weekend; we have to travel four hrs each way tomorrow and I Must be the one that my father who has been The Baptist "Priest" for so many for so long and for me when I have lost my losses.... I will be the one that provides the comfort this time; I will be the rock that is there to be leaned on... The Whiskey will just have to go away for awhile... We don't want ya round here anymore.... Rev Buckman http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/


Edited by - buckman on 04/01/2005 17:46:56
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 04/02/2005 :  17:34:17  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Paisley sky full of butterflies. Tens of millions thistle-thirsty. The Painted Ladies leave Mexico on their long journey north twice in a decade. They fly at eye level 15 to 20 miles an hour. Their short life span of six weeks. Three as a caterpillar and chrysalsis. Three as a butterfly. Delicately beautiful. With two inch wingspans. Coral and rose-pink with lacy black edges. Double rings on the forewings like bubbles, like Anniversary champagne. We were paddling about 100 feet out. Dozens of them around us. Brushing our arms and our cheeks. The wax on our boards smells sweet. They kept touching down stalled in ecstasy. They have tiny faces and they taste with their legs. Here for a couple of months. There's a Nature Center on the Santa Ana River where on Butterfly Day, May 7th, you can stand inside a sunlit tent full of just-released butterflies and feed them watermelon from your hands. I imagine this is a strange and wonderful experience. Like perfect water, or...Astral music.

Edited by - Ailinn on 05/17/2013 08:30:28
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 04/05/2005 :  19:23:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
~A Fairy Tale not Andersen or Grimm~

They lived at the edge of the world where the land and the sea converged. Where the dawn's unanswered question caressed the alibi shore each morn. He was in charge of practical miracles. Naturally the birds that alighted upon their branches sang a sweeter song. And the louvered light that fell through the blinds struck their floor at exactly the right angle. The latitude and longitude necessary for gravity to hold them spinning in place. Their filled cupboards spilling yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Random surprises appeared when guests arrived in disguise. Fruits. Out of season. Warm, fresh-baked bread. Sweet butter. Glassy olives. Cana-like wine. Even the bees brought their best honey to their table. So when the Census taker came knocking and her eyes went wide, he put his finger to his lips for Caution. The silence that fell was centuries old. In that stilled hush he took the quick knife to their hearts again. The pact and the promise. The flash of surprise. The blue light in his eyes alive under burning Heaven.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 04/07/2005 :  19:45:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A bladed place of bright light and spiny branches. Borrego Springs. The desert's gilded world before the sun sets. He sleeps inside a wooden dream. A little sunset at his shoulders. "...pages and pages," he says, "Nothin' wrong with dreamin..."
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 04/09/2005 :  17:19:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Read the headlines!" he shouts in the street and several windows open. And then close because a man waving his arms in the middle of the road is not much cause for attention. A woman comes out on a second floor porch. She leans over the rail reeling in laundry. Several blue uniform shirts, and small sheets with Smiley faces. She snaps them off the line with a whip-crack sound and folds them so quickly you know she's done this before. Many times. In her sleep. Now the sun starts to fall and the sky fills with wings to the ocean. Three cobbled blocks away. Where Salvation is the name of a ship that sailed under the bridge and headed out to sea.
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  07:51:00  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The boy had been following me since Chancellorsville.... When I ran from that bloody battle, I ran without thought... All I knew was what my instincts told me; go East and go North;go home... After a week of this we reached the Palisades, the sheer wall of cliffs at Englewood overlooking the Hudson River in New Jersey where I would follow the river North and home... With the river and the cliffs at my back, I turned to face him... If you're gonna be here anyways, I said, then you may as well join me .... I threw the tobacco pouch at him and raised the whiskey bottle to my lips... He was just a kid; he had come from the Stonewall Brigade, the troop of students that had followed the great man from the Virginia Military Institute and on into battle before most of them could shave... When Stonewall went down at Chancellorsville, the boy no longer had a reason; General Jackson Was his cause and his country and without him there seemed no reason to fight on... My reasons were simpler: I was scared, I was tired, and I could no longer stand the thought of killing even one more man, and so, without much thought, I ran, and I kept running until I could no longer hear the screams or smell the smoke of the cannons.... The boy asked me why I ran and I said, Because I couldn't fly........ He nodded like he understood.... It was good to have somebody to talk to again, even a Reb.... I passed him the whiskey....
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  08:12:10  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
That night as we set the fire to blazing, we heard a rustle off to the right... I saw his eyes first and Reb raised his gun at the sight of a black man in the woods with a gun... Charlie had escaped when his Master was killed by a Union raiding party; he had no family left, so he just wandered away, keeping out of sight, heading for a town he had heard of called Nyack where the Underground Railroad was doing the Work of the Righteous...
As we sat on either side of the fire, Johnny Reb took out his harmonica and started playing Dixieland.... Well, I may have run, but I was still a Union man thru and thru, so I started in on Glory, Glory Hallelujah.... Charlie musta felt left out cause he started in on a song I had never heard; it sounded like a slave song and was about how all my trials, Lord, would soon be over.... At one point, I stopped, and said, Listen, boys, if we're gonna get along, let's do this thing righteous; one at a time and maybe we can all learn sumthin..... So, the three of us, an unlikely group if there ever was one: an old preacher/deserter, a young boy/deserter and a runaway slave, sitting around a campfire at the top of a cliff over the Hudson River on a cloudless night, sang Dixie, then the Battle Hymn, then All My Trials......... When we were done and the woods fell quiet again, I looked at them and their faces were wet and shiny just like mine.... I passed the bottle to Charlie and nobody said anything for a long while.........

Edited by - buckman on 04/10/2005 12:06:27
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  08:45:31  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
For Hank. "...I ran because I couldn't fly..." Good morning to New York!

Go to Top of Page

Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4924 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  10:24:07  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Hank, that is the coolest story. Really puts a picture to the song. Thanks so much for sharing!

Karen Runk
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  12:04:36  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Thanks, KR... I was watching Ken Burn's Civil War on PBS and thought how cool it would be if we had a little tale about American Trilogy coming out of a chance meeting between three guys... and then, it just happened in my head and came out whole, like you see it, all at once... Thanks, Hank

http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
Go to Top of Page

Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5422 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  12:14:24  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I figure a lot of stories follow us until we
turn around and share a smoke with them.
One of your finest, Buckman.
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  17:14:06  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Thank you, Doug....
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  19:20:53  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"My husband's chief complaint was that we'd included
too many people who believed in outer space.
He made no distinction between those who were intrigued
by the problems of the Hubble Space Telescope
and that much smaller group who personally knew
someone kidnapped by aliens. Outer space
was all the same to him, endlessly uninteresting.
I have to admit I was bored myself
by the Hubble Space Telescope. I kept thinking
of the Artist's Renderings I grew up with, how close
you were to Martian canals, for example,
with figures in the foreground to add a sense
of perspective and a little drama. But I'm one
of those people who believe any movie
can be improved by including a giant insect.
I like it when the aliens walk among us
and no one's sure they're there, when they take somebody
up in the ship to examine him, but you never really
find out why. They leave so little evidence behind,
and what there is gets covered up so quickly.
Mostly I keep it to myself, these interests.
It's nothing I count on, and you can imagine what he says,
this and that about the world, the one he cares for.
We wash the dishes, make sure there aren't
any more glasses leaving rings on the piano.
If aliens had been around for so long
you'd think we'd understand
what they want. Instead we don't even know
if how they're acting is smart or stupid.
When it's time to walk the dog I say I'll take her
because I enjoy going into the yard at night.
The sky's spread out above me, clear and chilly.
Ordinary planes are up there, lights flashing off and on,
and of coursr the stars, and all the uninhabitable
planets, and then the others, where right now maybe
plans are being made, where everything's almost ready.
No one can say it isn't possible, not for certain.
I like waiting just a moment for something to happen."

~Lawrence Raab~
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 04/10/2005 :  19:30:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
In 1996 and again in '98 Stu was treated for esophageal cancer. At one point he was the most radiated man in North America. They tattooed him so they wouldn't overlap the radiation and compromise his spine. Starman, I called him. Terrified. Mick was the only one he would talk to. Stu lost his voice. Couldn't speak for months. Finally when he started gaining weight and his voice came back again he called Mick on May 19th and sang Happy Birthday to him.
Go to Top of Page
Page: of 151  Topic Next Topic   Lock Topic Edit Topic Delete Topic New Topic Reply to Topic
Previous Page | Next Page
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
Jump To:
Mickey Newbury Web Board © 2003 Mickeynewbury.com Go To Top Of Page
Snitz Forums 2000