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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
 Posted - 06/04/2005 : 18:59:43
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| Seasons. Fall in The Garden at sunset. The light climbs high out of the dry desert bowl. Rings the harsh Santa Rosas. A benevolent, golden edge. They stand under a canopy of citrus blossoms. Drip irrigation at their feet. Like coiled snakes. An opiate fragrance texturing the mica-flecked air. There they drink the heavy water from the Viejo Ranch well. Make their way through the veiled green mesquite. To the place where stars touch the ground. She's walking backwards ahead of him. Talking with her hands. He likes to take the conversation to the place where she trips over clouds. When she stamps her impatient feet he feigns a serious expression. His hand at her elbow steering her into the sky. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/05/2005 : 17:25:37
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| The mountain's deckled profile and rising serrated flames. A fiddler on the ground still working the crowd before the sun slides toward Hawaii. Wisecracks and high fevers. His blue hair burning the pillow. The bougainvillea's papery leaves whispering across the courtyard. The sun falls down all spangled light. Checking in to The Lost Hotel. His bright soul igniting the blotter. His trusted soul. His prescription for light. In and out of the darkness. A teaspoonful of sunshine. Twice a day. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/06/2005 : 19:57:18
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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
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/09/2005 : 19:52:04
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| 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
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/09/2005 : 19:57:46
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| In drafts of fog she trails her long fingers in the salty ocean. Her faces turned to the sea. Oh, how I avoid her! Pressing the heels of my palms into my blind eyes. As hard as I can. Blocking her sunlight. Her liquid dream. Leaving my balcony when her footprints appear beside his. Beside his. The scapular crossing her shoulders with his embroidered, curved name. His hand at her elbow. Still steering her through. Everything. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/11/2005 : 19:06:05
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| 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
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/12/2005 : 17:57:37
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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
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/12/2005 : 17:58:57
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| Someone's in the kitchen. Whistling... |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4902 Posts |
Posted - 06/13/2005 : 17:36:42
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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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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/13/2005 : 19:56:15
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| Karen, I hope she waits for him...the wonderful young man who kissed your cheek. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/13/2005 : 20:02:06
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| We were talking about surfing one day. "It's a long ride in with dolphins," I said. Mick says, "Honey, I'm right there with you!" I knew he was peering out through green windows too. "Ro, you tell Stu we're gonna get into the water with those dolphins. They say it's good for your body and mind and they have proof of the changes that occur..." Yep. We're all lined up on our boards now, Mick...waiting for our friends to come play. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/13/2005 : 20:06:52
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| They dream the same dream. For centuries. Lashed to the planks. Barefoot and blindfolded. Adrift on a sea with no name. Their hands bound together. Their raw wrists ticking slow time. He sees land before she does. Wills the boat to the safe, rock-strewn place. Sacred ground. Sacred trees. Here he makes the cut and blends the blood ineffably. Their first fires are mortal and small. A cupful of light put out quickly. Lifetimes later the conflagration ignites the dark nighttime sky. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/13/2005 : 20:09:13
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"Now...would a dragon that drinks tea...eat mice...hahaha..."
~Mickey Newbury~ |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/14/2005 : 19:41:58
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| When the sun leaves the County the children come in from their games. By some sleight of hand they've grown taller. Closer to the stars. Jeffrey and Stu have the same end of June birthday. Jeffrey turns 12. Stu, a little bit more. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/14/2005 : 19:46:28
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| Eve arrives. Adam moans. Eve squats beside him. Curious. His steady, sleeping breath. The shining rib-shaped empty space. The place she impatiently stepped out of. Eve rests her hand there. Adam's eyes go wide. More surprised than pleased. Around them the Garden shivers. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/14/2005 : 19:55:31
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| He holds early morning in his sheltering palms. He holds the past's sweet, complete cached dream. Her earrings whisper. Her skirt sweeps her ankles. Her bare feet barely touch the ground. There's a hidden passageway on a ghost ship rocking. An amber-lit galley anchored on a nascent sea. The ocean opens it's watery doors to embrace them. "Eternity," he says. She says, "Longer than that." Stalled in ecstasy where gravity holds them spinning. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/15/2005 : 20:20:47
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~Chloe had a sense of style when she waitressed. She brought class to the Diner with those handkerchiefs pinned to her breast. White handkerchiefs with tatted edges in rainbow colors. Lavender for Monday. Saturday was red. And for holidays she found this sparkly thread. Soon we all took up the hankie habit. They looked like orchids sitting up there on our chests. Cora Jean perfumed hers. That lasted 'til noon when Rudy, who drove the big rigs for Southwest Trucking said, "Cora girl, git yer Evening In Paris outta my meatloaf and 'taters, please!" They was sparkin' each other so she didn't take no offense. Then Chloe came up with the hat-trick thing. Little fanned paper tiaras that made us look like prom queens. The tips went up and the cook took to wearin' clean jeans. Chloe's lifetime love was Mortimer. "Morty-face" she called him. She'd run her pearl-painted fingernails through tufts of hair whispering around his earlobes. They'd go to The Firehouse Saturday nights and eat roast beef dinners. "Roast beast," Mortimer called it, "hahaha!" They'd dress up real fine. Chloe in her satin blouse and fringed leather vest. Mortimer in his fresh, Chloe-laundered shirt. Chloe took starch to the next generation. That shirt stood up by itself. "A man could cut himself bad on this thing!" Mortimer said fussin' with the buttons. He wore a bolo tie with a big chunk of turquois, and he polished his pointy-toe boots. They sure had a high old time together. More 'an thirty years ago. When Mortimer passed, Chloe went over to the Home. Then that young singer feller came by. You know, the one who used to sit in the corner booth drinkin' coffee and smokin' cigarettes. He had that beat up satchel full of writin' papers he'd spread all over the place. Saw him waitin' in the lobby at Sunset Acres one day. Lookin' out through the big picture window where Chloe was takin' the sun. "Hurts me to see her like that," he said, "all closed up in her nightie...no shoulders. Bothers me nobody comes to see her." I clearly remember him sayin' that, an' the pain in his voice. "You did," I said. "Yeah, well," he said, and followed the attendent down the long hall. They got on real swell, though. He took to stoppin' in every other week. Brought his guitar sometimes too. Yeah. You'd hear them both laughin'. He sang about the weather alot. Sunshine and rain. Oh, what was his name? Shoot! It's right on the tip of my tongue. Blue eyes he had. Truly blue.~
I posted the above a long time ago from one of Mick's calls. The actual conversation was this:
"Carl. He was a fighter pilot during the war. Cartoonist. Drew Gulliver's Travels. Yeah. Well. His wife... She's 90 now. Didn't like me at first. A country singer with a tattoo. Oh, Lord, Ro! She didn't like that! Over the years we got along, though. She liked to talk to me. We got close. Hurts me to see her now. All closed up in her nightie...no shoulders... Bothers me, Ro. Nobody goes to see her. And I can't. So sad..."
When he told a story he set the picture inside your heart. This conversation ended with Mick laughing. Telling of their happier times together.
Love and blessings to The Wizard.
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Edited by - Ailinn on 06/15/2005 22:07:26 |
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aussiedave
Rocker
Australia
472 Posts |
Posted - 06/18/2005 : 05:11:50
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.....he was thinking about getting himself a tattoo.He had been thinking about it for quite awhile but never had the courage to go through with it.what 52 year old sane man would seiously consider getting himself tattooed at his age.yes,you are probably right,maybe he was sick of being sane.so he did.get the tattoo I mean.that was twelve months ago.nothing elaborate mind you,just something small,on the upper left arm,out of site,nobody could see it unless he had his shirt off.seems pointless really,why get a tattoo if nobody could see it?
the tattoo that he had in mind was meant to have a special meaning .........for him that is.........maybe meaningless to a lot of others but to him it was something special.
"I'm going to get myself a tattoo" he said.
"what!" she said,in an incredulous voice "a tattoo,what ever for,why would you do that to yourself?" "are you insane?"
he thought about it for awhile and thought,yeah,maybe I am.
so he did..........he went and got himself a tattoo,just three letters. it only took the tattooist about a half hour and it was finished.As he sat in the tattooists chair ,waiting patiently whilst the man did what he had to do,he found himself reminiscing.his thoughts took him back 30 years,when he met a young girl,she had flaming red hair and the cutest upturned nose.he remembered one day whilst they were sitting together on her parents sofa,he quickly pressed his nose to hers and whispered, "Eskimos" .......she didn't hear him.
The tattooist finished........"there you go,what do you think"
It snapped him back to the present. "great,jonno,yes i like it"
He walked out of the shop,and his thoughts turned to another lady,whose funeral he had attended 12 months previously.her name was Jenny,she was 53............why,he thought,why???????
there was no answer.
oh,and the three letters that he had tattooed on his upper arm?
...................OWM..............
must mean something to him I guess.
he is thinking about going back for another tattoo.he said something about a guy called Mickey Newbury.
Adave.
check this out.
http://dnriddell.blogspot.com/
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Ailinn
Swinger
1441 Posts |
Posted - 06/27/2005 : 19:52:25
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| Love and blessings to The Wizard. |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4902 Posts |
Posted - 06/27/2005 : 21:41:26
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Oh man, I love you , aussiedave.......
from Oregon.....
the other.......
Karen Runk |
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The Nightly Vigil