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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
 Posted - 10/12/2005 : 20:59:57
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| The fog clears. And the clouds. The gulls climb collectively into the sky. Their high-pitched cries pierce the blue infusion where they circle San Clemente Pier. Stu's not a gull lover. Nor a swallow lover either. "It's a conspiracy," he says. "A tourist lure and trap." The swallows returning to Capistrano. "They're ALWAYS here! Just keep them off my windshield!" he says. He has a beat-up, treasured hat that's got all our kids in trouble. When they hit 6th Grade they get to wear the hat to school. A baseball cap with the words I HATE SEAGULLS. Something disgusting dripping off the brim. They get sent home. With instructions ~DO NOT RETURN WITH THIS HAT~. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/12/2005 : 21:05:54
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| I have a few loose dollars and a pocket full of change. On my way to pay my fines at Dove Lane Library. New and beautiful. Staggered stone fountains. Verdigris butterflies. Brass and bronze fret-work in the 45 degree angled shutters. Stu says my book fines built the Library. Ah, but there's a bakery he loves in the same parking lot. With his favorite. Cinnamon something. And I'm temporarily rich with an armful not due 'til November. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/12/2005 : 21:08:42
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| At days end she comes to sit by him at the fire. Beside the flames warmth they both lean toward for hours. Their silhouette shoulders melting together in the warm dark. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2685 Posts |
Posted - 10/13/2005 : 20:11:20
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Some folks like to get away
Take a holiday from the neighborhood
Hop a flight to Miami Beach
Or to Hollywood
But I'm talking a Greyhound
On the Hudson River Line
I'm in a New York state of mind
I've seen all the movie stars
In their fancy cars and their limousines
Been high in the Rockies under the evergreens
But I know what I'm needing
And I don't want to waste more time
I'm in a New York state of mind
It was so easy living day by day
Out of touch with the rhythm and blues
But now I need a little give and take
The New York Times, The Daily News
It comes down to reality
And it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide
Don't care if it's Chinatown or on Riverside
I don't have any reasons
I've left them all behind
I'm in a New York state of mind
It was so easy living day by day
Out of touch with the rhythm and blues
But now I need a little give and take
The New York Times, The Daily News
It comes down to reality
And it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide
Don't care if it's Chinatown or on Riverside
I don't have any reasons
I've left them all behind
I'm in a New York state of mind
I'm just taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River Line
'Cause I'm in a New York state of mind
Billy Joel:Turnstiles
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/15/2005 : 18:42:03
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| The night does not close without his bright soul. Laughing when he falls through that hole in the sky and lands on Earth with clouds around his ankles. "...when we all sit down at the big table..." he's saying. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2685 Posts |
Posted - 10/21/2005 : 20:26:40
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The delicate scent of her
Remained in my mind long after
She left me...
Tonight I whispered her name
To the moon and
She winked at me...
Oh, Barbie, thank you,
I thought you had forgotten me...
Hank |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2685 Posts |
Posted - 10/21/2005 : 20:29:28
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RELIGION - For Cactus Jack
Whatever soul there is beneath fur and whiskers
delights in things in motion
is mesmerized by birds beyond windows
dreams somewhere of running forever after prey.
Sings songs in silent language
of the glory in blood and the unsurpassed joy of the chase.
Whatever soul there is waits for freedom
like an empty track waits for trains
hungers for open fields and low branches
studies the moment like an artist studies a canvas.
Perfects patience into contentment
blends like a chameleon into shadows
somewhere between sunlight on carpet
and the oval luminescence of eye.
Whatever soul there is feigns complacency
glows with a hidden memory of survival
holds dignity until death is done.
Whatever soul there is remembers kindness
looks back with calmness at windows and walls
forgives the gatekeeper
loathes the gate.
[By my friend oklahoma potter-extraordinaire]CJ Wells 6/12/96
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/22/2005 : 17:49:16
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| We're visiting our house. It's being painted. It was supposed to be finished Friday. It looks like next Wednesday now. It's a small house. Standard southern California. Stucco with a red tile roof. Only we're painting it pale peach. With Sea Blue doors in the courtyard. "Because it's lively," Stu says. Yes, it is. And thumbs-up from the neighbors. So I guess it's pale enough. The painters are all tall and slender. They wear gauzy white suits with hoods. White bandanas over their faces with slits for eyes. Not the regular Home Depot get-up we're used to. And they move around outside like wraiths. They've sealed the windows and the doors. And the sliders with cloudy plastic. Even the Garden window over the sink. Absolutely no place to look out of. "It's like living inside a monsters lungs," I told Stu. "Oh-oh..." he said, aware of my over-active imagination, "...so wadda ya think of Motel 6?" |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4904 Posts |
Posted - 10/22/2005 : 18:14:00
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Sounds so pretty. When you look at our house....all you see is white white white. But, that's why I love it...I am attracted to white houses. 
Karen Runk |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/22/2005 : 18:38:31
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| "...white, white, white..." I love it. All our sheets are white. Never gone for colors on the bed. "Why?" he says, and I say, "The better to see you, my Dear..." Okay if we do white in our B & B, Karen. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/22/2005 : 18:45:32
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| In the darker light of Durrow they survived. Aromatic grasses she wrapped his fresh catch in. And so they thrived on fish and boiled potatoes. Biscuits were a Sunday treat. Traded with the Baker. And fresh butter from the dairy lad who pedaled out from Baile. Aye, the winds were harsh against the grey flumed coast. And seas were salt and pepper at their door. Still they prevailed. His blue boat afloat and cresting through high weather. Fair and foul. A pinch of kindling. A bit of broth. A sprig of braided heather on the pillow. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/22/2005 : 18:51:28
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| Slipping out through the verdigris gate. Turning back to glance over their shoulders. Delighted to find both sun and moon in the sky. Sun rising out of the canyons. Moon, a pale wafer of mother-of-pearl. The world waking up in kitchens. Steep street view of the sea for her headstrong heart. His long-held warm hand in hers. Old white adobe Mission on the corner. Bells just a few steps away. Upstairs in a blue room the open suitcase. Dreams escaping under the bed. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/25/2005 : 19:18:04
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| They're trimming the palm trees on our hill. A feat more theatre than landscaping. A guy in leather chaps with spikes sticking out of his ankles. Suspended between trees. Swaying. A system of rings and pulleys at his wide belt. A chain saw in one holster. A bright machete in the other. The chain saw roars. Huge palm fronds fall in dusty clouds. With the machete he trims the small stuff. Like chopping greens for salad. When he's finished with one tree he swings Tarzan-like to another. This is not a man in a cherry-picker. This is a ground crew with its eyes in the sky. My neighbor who sells insurance for Farmers says, "I bet his Workers Comp is high." |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/27/2005 : 19:10:25
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| "...two tin cans and a thousand miles of string..." he says, passing up the fresh green beans and the cornucopia-displayed squash. The sun sets peering over his shoulder at the Braided Pepper Produce Stand. Where they've landed off El Camino Real. The fresco moon rises over Batiquitos Lagoon. "More pixels," he says, able to see the big picture, "most recipes will be served with a tuning fork and a fire extinguisher." |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2685 Posts |
Posted - 10/28/2005 : 16:15:17
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The cute Vietnamese girl at the counter
in the Chinese takeout place
Had three Bic pens stuck in the back
Of her hair...
When the phone rang she turned away
From me to her right
Answered the phone
Took the order and
Came back to me with
A smile...
How many duck sauce
How many mustard?
Oh, My God,
If the whole world could only
Look like her and
Work like her...
There would be No Problem....
Hank Beukema
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2685 Posts |
Posted - 10/29/2005 : 08:45:17
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Dear Abby,
I went to see my friend's band the other night....
I have known Joe since he was eighteen and making
$5.00 an hour
And now he is 42 and making big money,
And I am 54...
I had a quart of Jameson's in me and I had already gone
Home from a bar drunk, when he called me...
I drove the twenty miles to Sloatsburg, NY with a little trouble staying
between the lines... The Vicodins were kicking in and the Jamesons was
waning, so I had a little more control than I should have... When I first
got there I was surprised at how many people were there, up in the country,
That far outside New York..... Joe introduced me to his girlfriend [after a
first wife and another longtime girlfriend] and told me she was Brazilian
and only speaks Portugeuse and was from Hackensack, NJ,,,,,,, [Don't ask how
they make it, I don't know either] I immediately started hitting on her,
being translated thru her Aunt, who was the only one that could do that at
the table..... Surrounded by her brother and his wife and her aunt and
uncle, I proceeded to deliver this speech:
" Joe told me I should never look directly at your face...."
"Why"
He told me that I would fall in love with you"
Really?
Yes,
but it's too late,
I already have,,,,,,"
Dear Abby,
Is there something wrong with me?
PS: When I left the bar, not knowing where I was or the terrain of the area,
I drove on the left side of the road for, oh, about a half a mile before the
ship got right...... I saw Joe waving in my rear view mirror but thought he
was just pissed about his girlfriend......
Yours truly, CONFUSED
http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/29/2005 : 18:39:51
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| The first time I met the Captain I was using an assumed name. He was too. It was Tuesday, so our names were... That one and...that one. "Hmm," the Captain said, and rubbed his whiskered chin. Then, "...hmm..." again. New to Public Transportation, I didn't have a clue. Didn't know the route or final destination. I knew the lit and unlit tunnels, though. Under and over the star-crossed corridors. And the time it took to fly blindfolded through them. "A thousand one...a thousand two..." I counted, and depended on instructions from the crew. The patient sailor/pilot/engineer. The anxious ticket-taker. Grateful when I remembered the right change and gates of Arrival and Departure. "Wait... Isn't this backwards?" I asked the Captain. But so patient he was explaining Mae Wests and parachute paraphernalia... "...I dedicate my art/heart/life to you!" I said impulsively impassioned. He said, "Wellll, now... Let's get started. We've got a lot of ground to cover, and... Hold on! Not so quick!" he said when I headed for the Life Boat. |
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Ailinn
Swinger
1444 Posts |
Posted - 10/29/2005 : 18:44:14
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| Now the sun stalls in melancholy splendor. And here comes the Curse of Standard Time. Goblins pressing their noses against the glass. Ghost sentinels in cob-webbed corners. Not nodding off. Not blinking an eye. Perpetually on guard. Oh, I've said many Rosaries kneeling on rice in this transient Purgatory. |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5390 Posts |
Posted - 10/29/2005 : 22:55:32
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You, darkness, of whom I am born
I love you more than the flame
that limits the world
to the circle it illumines
and excludes all the rest.
But the darkness embraces everything:
shapes and shadows, creatures and me,
people, nations -- just as they are.
It allows me to imagine
a great presence stirring in me.
Ich glaube an Nachte.
I believe in the night.
Rilke
visit http://www.betterdaysradio.blogspot.com |
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Egbert
Swinger
Netherlands
810 Posts |
Posted - 10/30/2005 : 00:50:42
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| He who wants to stand in the light, must travel in the darkness... |
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The Nightly Vigil