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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/14/2005 :  18:21:33  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Blue breeze mica-flecked air. Sunlight glinting off water. Jeffrey and Cameron are fish. Surfing the off-shore ledge in a southern wind. San Diego water 67, air 81. Paddle out. Snap up. Wide arms spread reaching for destiny. Fingers are brakes. Raking the rolling walls. What slows you inside the whisper and the roar. Hear your heartbeat in the curl before you scream looking out through green windows. Silver streamlets spinning off the ruffled edge. No two waves alike. The trick is finding bottom. And not getting hit in the head with the board. A long ride in when we're lucky. Or wipe-out and eat a lot of sand.

There's a party for the Lifeguards tonight. A tradition before Memorial Day. Moonlight Beach between Swami's and Eden. Combination Mexican/Luau/Barbecue. Food on leaves and sticks. Beer in cans. Wine and the Beach Boys in boxes. "...help me, Rhonda. Help, help me, Rhonda... GET her outta my heart..."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2005 :  17:44:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He caught the spirit in the glass before she raised it to her mouth. In that house where he was always happy. Where chaos lived a mile down the road. Not welcome. But not shunned either. He was Mercy. And when new flowers nodded and preferred to doze he understood their summer longing. His dreams in a satchel. Haphazardly tied. The punched ticket fraying in his back pocket.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5425 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2005 :  21:29:53  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Lament

Whom will you cry to, heart? More and more lonely,
your path struggles on through incomprehensible
mankind. All the more futile perhaps
for keeping to its direction,
keeping on toward the future,
toward what has been lost.

Once. You lamented? What was it? A fallen berry
of jubilation, unripe.
But now the whole tree of my jubilation
is breaking, in the storm it is breaking, my
slow tree of joy.
Loveliest in my invisible
landscape, you that made me more known
to the invisible angels.

Rainer Maria Rilke


visit http://www.betterdaysradio.blogspot.com
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/16/2005 :  18:52:08  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...you have looked deep into the cavern
where the crystal of my dream is made,
you know my tears belong to me,
you know my pain, my pain from so far back.
Oh, the night said, I do not know, beloved,
I do not know your secret,
although I have seen that phantom
you speak of, roaming through your dream.
I look into the depth of souls that weep
and listen to their prayers,
humble, solitary,
prayers you speak of as true psalms,
but in the deep recesses of the soul,
whether weeping is voice or echo
I do not know.
To hear from your lips your lament
I sought you out in your dream,
and I saw you wandering there
in a blurred labyrinth of mirrors

And is the magic world to die with you,
the world where memory keeps
life's purest breaths-
white shadow of first love
voice that went to your heart, hand
you wished in dreams to keep in yours
and all loved things
that touched the soul, the deeper sky?
And is your world to die with you,
the old life you reshaped your way?
Have the crucibles and anvils of your soul
been working for dust and for the wind?"

Antonio Machado
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/16/2005 :  19:00:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
We're back on Beach Road. With a stone called Estrella de Caliente. Hot Stars. A stone I've worked with before that stuns me with its color. The house is on sand and uninsurable because of it proximity to the ocean. Less than 200 feet. Built on a radius curve with no right angles. Hard to fix the scale. A long time on hands and knees designing it. My numbers keep coming up wrong. But Stu's a genius at this and can nail it in his head without a calculator. The stone is spectacularly beautiful. Think of meteors. Exploding magic. God pulling a light show out of His hat.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/18/2005 :  20:39:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He has the scorched Almanac out on the table. His maps and charred ancient charts. He unscrolls the parchment with it's edged terra cotta. No apparent X appears. Just the legend in heiroglyphics. She watches as he coaxes the fickle latitude and longitude to align. Where the earth's rent rim is fissured with salt waterways. Where stakes, like swords await the bright fruits arrival. The children lean closer. Press their small faces to his sun-warmed shoulder. Follow the finger he points to the welcoming ground. This is the time he loves. The beginning. Before the first green shoots appear. Before new leaves break through to start their summer-long ascension. May 19th.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/19/2005 :  19:34:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Two tin cans and a thousand feet of string. Meet me at Yellow Coyote sitting out under stars. Nothing's changed. Happy Birthday, dear heart.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/21/2005 :  20:08:24  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Double Dutch I was playing. Good at it too. You were standing on the corner. Camels tucked into your tee shirt sleeve. In almost Summer. 8pm. All the light leaving the sky until tomorrow. Bells just a street away. Toasted Almond for me. Melting Good Humors. You always chose Orange Creamsicle and paid for mine. Hey- We're out on the street again. The temperature is 77 and... I still love you, hahaha.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5425 Posts

Posted - 05/23/2005 :  12:25:14  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Under One Small Star

My apologies to chance for calling it necessity.
My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all.
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.
May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.
My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second.
My apologies to past loves for thinking
that the latest is the first.
Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.
I apologize for my record of minutes to those who
cry from the depths.
I apologize to those who wait in railway stations
for being asleep today at five a.m.
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you
bearing a spoonful of water.
And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in
the same cage, your gaze always fixed on the same point in space,
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.
My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs.
My apologies to great questions for small answers.
Truth, please don't pay me much attention.
Dignity, please be magnanimous.
Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck
the occasional thread from your train.
Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then.
My apologies to everything that I can't be everywhere at once.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be
each woman and each man.
I know I won't be justfied as long as I live,
since I myself stand in my own way.
Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,
then labor heavily so that they may seem light.

Wislawa Szymborska


visit http://www.betterdaysradio.blogspot.com

Edited by - Doug L on 05/23/2005 12:29:07
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/24/2005 :  20:12:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The blue light in his eyes still alive under burning Heaven.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/28/2005 :  18:41:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The sunlight flashes off your windshield,
and when I look up into the small, posted mirror,
I watch you diminish- my echo, my twin-
and vanish around a curve in this whip
of a road we can't help traveling together.

Billy Collins
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2005 :  16:54:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I have a bracelet of Gaelic names and I've used every one of them. Never the same name twice. Mick explained it to me. Complicated and involved. "Whoa, I can't follow that," I said. "...then be careful who you tell your secrets to, hahaha..." he said. We're just back from the beach. Shivering. Sunny this morning, but now a cloud's come to earth and the fog is rolling in. Love all day on the shore. Heart-shaped shells and seagull prints like tiny sailboats on a plate of sugar sand. Even the guy with the metal detector was coming up with treasure. Now we're cooking Albondigas soup. Like Italian wedding soup, only Mexican. Tiny meatballs. And the spices get way dialed up. "Serve with a fire extinguisher," Mirella says. This mornijng she brought me a day lily called Acalpulco Nights. Dark red. Dark. Black almost. Heavy velvet flowers with ruffled edges. And another called Frankly, Scarlet. True red. With a soot-smudged yellow throat. So beautiful. "But, oh, Mirella...!" I said. She knows flowers prefet suicide to crossing my black-thumb path. Except cactus which curiously thrives. On his maze through the markets Stu stopped at Armstrong Garden Center. "An ounce of prevention..." he said. Memorial Day. For the service and the sacrifice... Our eternal thanks anf prayers.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2005 :  16:58:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...be careful who you tell your secrets to..."

~Mickey Newbury~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 06/04/2005 :  18:47:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
If there is only enough time in the final
minutes of the twentieth century for one last dance
I would like to be dancing it slowly with you,

say, in the ballroom of a seaside hotel.
My palm would press into the small of your back
as the past hundred years collapsed into a pile
of mirrors or buttons or frivolous shoes,

just as the floor of the ninteenth century gave way
and disappeared in a red cloud of brick dust.
There will be no time to order another drink
or worry about what was never said,

not with the orchestra sliding into the sea
and all our attention devoted to humming
whatever it was they were playing.

Billy Collins
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 06/06/2005 :  19:57:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Drove Ralph and Catherine to Valley Center. Mick's music in their courtship. End of June they'll be married 6 months! Mr. & Mrs. Ralph Gardener. Both in their 70's. Glitter-bright sun. Blue sky shining. June finally radiant. Friday he has follow-up. Opthamologist. "An' if I don't get good news I'm changin' doctors," he says. When I walk with him I take his elbow. He doesn't see doorways or stairs. Talking about his "daylight" driving test. When we get to his son's place he says, "...if I don't pass... Well... I jus' give these two a workout," and he slaps his legs. "Can't worry 'bout you worryin' 'bout me all the time now, can I?" He flashes me his unique grim smile. I love this man! I throw my arms around him. I hold him tight. He did everything right his long lifetime. A blanket of prayers for everyone. Wonder moon outside my window. ~Bless Us All~

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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 06/09/2005 :  19:52:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Apocryphal horses brought him straight to the door of her gaslit shack on the desert. To a woman with a candle behind her eyes came a man descended from fire. Paradise nodding when he pours the second cup of coffee. Butters another slice of toast. Plants his boots firmly on the old oak stretcher. His back to the open oven door. Her heart on the table in a white cup cooling. What more do you need to know?
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 06/11/2005 :  19:06:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Water works its way into the dream. A ghost ship rocking in the harbor. The moon pulls the tide. To and fro. She knows he's standing at the bow waiting for the right light. His chin lifts as he searches the headlands and curlicue pocket-beach coastline. He lowers the skiff. Soundlessly. Leans easily into the oars. Brings the boat in under the sacred tree's camouflage green. Hurries to the house with its arched prism windows and blue, fret-worked shutters and doors. Where she sleeps with her head pointing North. Her right hand in the ocean. The stars slide across the wide sky. The bougainvillea's papery leaves whisper across the courtyard.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 06/12/2005 :  17:57:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
And isn't the past inevitable,
now that we call the little
we remember of it "the past"?

William Matthews
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1674 Posts

Posted - 06/12/2005 :  17:58:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Someone's in the kitchen. Whistling...
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Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4925 Posts

Posted - 06/13/2005 :  17:36:42  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Will she wait for him? His blue eyes stare across the banana split as Grandmother and Grandson have one last time together. Alone. He leaves for Juneau tomorrow, the 14th, at 11 am, framing houses for his dad. He will be gone for the summer. Maybe. It is the first time he has been this long from his mom and brother. But Dad is a good man, a teaching man. Life with him will be good. He kissed my cheek, and we said our goodbyes, me with tears. But, will she wait for him? Love, in the 18th year is both a precious and fickle thing.

Karen Runk
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