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Ailinn
Windchimer

1844 Posts

Posted - 12/17/2006 :  21:06:30  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...Let us go back...2000 years. From the middle east...one Tribe. From northern Europe, another. They meet in what is now known as British Isles. They bring with them their music. It is the story of their people. It is the song of their Heros. It is a gift from their God. They conquer other tribes as they move across the land, all the while adding to their "BAND" new and exciting instruments. NEW SONGS. At some point they become one peoople with a (somewhat) common language. They leave Europe at some disputed time in the past and come to these shores. Many years later it is discovered that the purest English spoken on the planet is spoken in the Appalachian Mountain range. Why?... Because of their isolation. What is their song? Where did it come from?

~Mickey Newbury~
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2705 Posts

Posted - 12/19/2006 :  14:44:31  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
In Which Johnny Depp and The Polar Bear Look For Neverland


When Ralph [[the Hudson River Polar Bear]] first met Johnny Depp, I thought, at first, he might faint... We were sitting in the back yard of the old Helen Hayes house in Nyack, with the broad expanse of green leading all the way down to the river.... Johnny said he had loved this place since he first saw it when Rosie O'Donnell owned it.... Said it was twenty miles from New York City, yet he could almost believe he was in the south of France, if there was a nip of Jameson's in his coffee... Ralph couldn't stop looking at him... [[Rev, he talks to me like I'm real, like you do... ]] It's the magic, Ralphie, the magic, me boyo, that let's, um, no...... Allows some of us to grow older, but never to grow up...... quite.... That's how that little boy from 21 Jump Street could become the boy in Bennie and Joon and What's Eating Gilbert Grape.... How he became Duke in Fear and Loathing and the guy in Blow and The Ninth Gate and how he played Johnny Depp playing Keith Richard[[s]] playing Captain Jack Sparrow to the hilt in Pirates of the Caribbean..... And how that little boy never grew up to play J M Barrie in Finding Neverland... [[Soooo much magic, Rev, it makes me cry...]] Oh, you big Mr Softee, come here and lay down on the grass before you get me started; Johnny's okay, he's talking to Hank, he'll bore him to tears in moments....
It occurs to me at this time of year, that there is a peculiar selectivity in our society when it comes to suspending disbelief... As children we're encouraged, no, sometimes even forced to believe in that fat old man flying reindeer and slipping down chimneys and doing the whole world in one night. After awhile, most children and many adults, seem to come to believe in this character as a part of their lives, past, present, and future, and there is really nothing wrong with that.... However, when it comes to suspending their disbelief in order to picture the Prince of Heaven coming to our land to establish a Kingdom on Earth, being born of a woman, becoming flesh and blood and giving his life to save ours, well, there seems to be a big problem.... In part, Knucklehead, it's just simple boredom: Jingle Bells is more Fun than O Holy Night; the elves are more Fun than the Angels...... Well,think about it buddyboy... There is no more Pure Fun than to have a spirit that can be in all places at once, that is faster than a locomotive and more powerful than a speeding bullet, living with you day to day as your buddy and pal like you and me; a spirit that is there for you when the chips are down and the taxman is knockin at your door... Just try to remember that when you're out there at the mall, or watching the Alabama Christmas Special for the fifth time.... That it's all really about Suspending Disbelief and experiencing the wonderful surprise of joy that happens when that spirit slips down your chimney and rents a room in your heart............. [[So, then, it's like Peter Pan? Like when you saw it when you were a kid and you thought you could fly if you really believed and you broke your leg jumping off of that balcony?]] Yeah, Ralphie, that's it, just like Pan and TinkerBelle and Hook and Smee and that Croc-with-the-clock.... Sorry, babyboy, i got preachy there for a minute...... C'mon, let's go talk to Johnny, maybe some of that magic will have rubbed off on the Hankster.... [[C'mon, it's Hank, Rev.......He'd have to have rubbed him alot.... ]]

" Peter Llewelyn Davies: It's just, I thought she'd always be here.
J.M. Barrie: So did I. But in fact, she is, because she's on every page of your imagination. You'll always have her there. Always.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: But why did she have to die?
J.M. Barrie: I don't know, boy. When I think of your mother, I will always remember how happy she looked sitting there in the parlor watching a play about her family, about her boys that never grew up. She went to Neverland and you can visit her any time you like if you just go there yourself.
Peter Llewelyn Davies: How?
J.M. Barrie: By believing, Peter. Just believe....."
[From Finding Neverland]

"Faith is when you get to the end of all the light you can see and are about to step into darkness.... Faith is knowing that the next step will give you something solid to stand on.... or you will learn to fly...." [Paraphrase ]

Rev Buckman




http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2705 Posts

Posted - 12/19/2006 :  20:11:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Melinda please forgive me
For running you away
I guess your face will haunt me
For the rest of my todays

Melinda don't forget me
Or the dreams that ran aground
It didn't take until you left
To know what I had found

Baby you are evrything
I've always wanted in a friend
It seems that I'm a drifter
There's nothing to defend
I hope that you'll remember
The good I made you feel
I hope that you'll forget
The mistakes that never heal

Melinda please forgive me
For running you away
I was just too full of myself
To get thru one last day

Melinda don't forget me
Or the dreams that ran aground
I'll spend a long long time
Regretting what I'd found

Baby you are evrything
I've always wanted in a friend
It seems that I'm a drifter
There's nothing to defend
I hope that you'll remember
The good I made you feel
I hope that you'll forget
The mistakes that never heal

Hank Beukema 2006




http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 12/20/2006 :  01:34:30  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"the mistakes that never heal"

oh how I wish I had penned this line.




"in love is an expensive place to die"

John Laws penned this one.




"true love knows no comparisons"

thats my contribution.

AD



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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 12/21/2006 :  04:13:51  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
SO..........send in the clowns..........
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2705 Posts

Posted - 12/21/2006 :  19:03:09  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
My lover's eyes were tired that Sunday morning heading South...

Tired of disappointment
Tired of meanness, madness,
Melancholy, mayhem
Surprised like so many others
By a whiskey monster
That crept into her bed after midnight
Looking like someone she knew but couldn't place
Couldn't quite come into focus as familiar
Causing damage that wouldn't /couldn't be fixed with words
Too late for more mere useless apologies

My lover's eyes were tired that Sunday morning heading South

Tired and glazed with loss
Moving away in disarray, emptiness
Inexplicable insanity
That had assaulted the senses and body
Tired of ruined dreams, killed feelings
Trading the sounds of the morning the day before
Waking up to love
For highway sounds and tire whine
Anger hurt rage even embarrassment
Or self recrimination that she had fallen
For someone that could turn so ugly
So quickly...

My lover's eyes were tired that Sunday morning heading South.....


Hank Beukema


http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1844 Posts

Posted - 12/21/2006 :  20:15:14  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
When you turn your palms skyward
With your wrists pinned to the ground
To the sand and the gravel
To the pommeled trail
The air full of knives
The fog climbing
The tide rising inside your chest
Don't lower your eyes
See the whole story
Paradise nodding
And your head too heavy to rise

PS Reverend B~ Today is the shortest day. This Sunday brings three more minutes of sunshine.
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Becka
Sitter

95 Posts

Posted - 12/22/2006 :  10:29:11  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ailinn............
yeah for the sunshine!!! Thanks for reminding us.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1844 Posts

Posted - 12/22/2006 :  18:34:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Hello, Becka. I think you're the Lady who can tackle this deal. Keep your eyes in the sky...and keep dancin'. Love to you and the Rev.
Roisin
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1844 Posts

Posted - 12/22/2006 :  18:50:27  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The biggest department store in town. A block long on Main Street. Six windows of Christmastime magic. A moonlit village with steepled churches. Smoke rising from red brick chimney tops in plump donut halos. A Hans Brinker skating pond edged with sleds. Santa's workshop. Reindeers and Lionel locomotives. Elves in buckled boots and tiny leather aprons. Mouths full of shiny nails. Mrs. Claus's Olde Time Bakery Shoppe. Gingerbread men running out of the ovens under clouds of sugar-spun steam. Candy cane smocks and striped stockings. Pointy-toed shoes and holly hats with bells. A big calendar hanging crooked to count down the days. Kids with their noses pressed up against the glass sucking their hair into icicles. And just over there...by the streetlamp leaning... Under snowflakes gently falling...POe.

Merry Christmas to the Porch. God's blessing, and peace and love to all.
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 12/23/2006 :  01:06:45  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
POe dear POe

he was one in ten million
he was one in ten times ten times ten million

he was one time one ain't two
you two time timing you
who do you think you're foolin'
your heels need some coolin'
girl i've got a good mind
just to blow you out of my mind

take a forty-four pistol to me
put one in my brain for her memory
one for my heart
and then i'll be free

the road down to gnashville's
like crystal and stone

oh little girl little girl
what have i done that has made you treat
me so
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1844 Posts

Posted - 12/23/2006 :  17:31:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"he was one in ten times ten times ten million"

Merry Christmas, AD.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2705 Posts

Posted - 12/23/2006 :  17:51:30  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Happy Christmas to the Nightly Vigil crowd, my second family for a few years now... As Guy Clark says, it's Stuff that works, the kind of stuff you reach for when you fall... Evry time I fall, I come back here to get recharged.... A special group, thats for sure, with Craig and David singin more and more and others chimin in for harmony... There is a special place in heaven for you, Ailinn, for having to endure sharing this space with the three of us fruitcakes.... Happy Christmas [War is Over] [J Lennon]

Hank/Rev/Ralph


http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2705 Posts

Posted - 12/23/2006 :  17:54:37  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
FROM 1999 - Rev Buckman Rants About Christmas



Boy, it sure is great listening to Christmas music sitting around the
campfire... I can remember when it wasn't always this way... Like the
Christmas of 1969 spent at college, near Muncie, Indiana at the Close Cover Before Striking School of Ministry, Music and Heavy Machinery... We could never have any sports teams, cause you couldn't put spikes or cleats on sandals, number one, and number two, how're you gonna make up a cheer for a school with a name like that.....
OH,GO CCBSSMMHM... YOU GO BOYS....
No, no, no, it ain't makin it..... Anyway, they didn't like me much at CCBS.... I think I reminded them of the Boss too much, you know, Jesus..... Long, flowing hair, gentle bearded face, and a penchant for having fun and pissin people off.... They didn't crucify me, but they did give me eight hours to get off their sacred campus, and for that career change I will always be grateful... Their timing coulda been better.... Christmas in Indiana is no time to be on the highway with your thumb in the air at 18... I mean, it snows Sideways out there... And nobody wants to stop and pick you up on an Interstate highway,goin seventy miles an hour, warm in their Cadillac, on their way to some Amway meeting or something..... So, the only rides you're gonna get are usually from degenerates of some kind or bible-beaters that wanna kill another hippie for Christ.... I didn't really care; I could de-generate with the best of them, and I could handle the beaters cause I grew up with em... Give me a man with a religious opinion, and I'd eat him up and spit him out.... This was the time of Jesus Christ Superstar, and there were actually people out there that got their theology from the libretto to the Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice version of the Crucifixion.... Yeah, there was some great music there, but as a system of values or to base a trip to eternity on, well, it mighta left a little to be desired.... They muddled it all up; you never really believed that this was THE SON O GOD,just a confused, ho-loving zealot whose mouth got him in Big trouble.... And they left the story at the grave, with Him dead.... THAT WAS NEVER THE POINT.... It wasn't His birth, or His life, or his friends, or His mother, or His sandals, or any of that that mattered..... It was that HE ROSE again, from the dead, defeated the forces of evil that had plagued Man since Adam picked up the fig leaf, And sat once again at the right hand of the Father..... THAT WAS THE POINT, and now, as usual, I have lost mine, so, BJ, if you'll crank up the stereo, we'll get back to now.... waiting for the Millenium to wash
itself up on the beach......



Rev J Alfred Buckman DD AA LSD RIAA ONO



[December,1999]



http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2705 Posts

Posted - 12/24/2006 :  07:03:11  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Come and walk with me
Down a path that leads to forever
It'll just take one night but
Maybe we can stop
Being alone together

You're sittin there alone
Thinkin of home
And the dark places in your past
You're thinkin of drinkin
Off the memory of
The man that didn't last

Dance one dance with me
Give me one nite or three
And I'll promise you forever
It'll be quite a nite but
Baby we can stop
Being alone together

I walked in here to have just one beer
Now I'm thinkin I might stay awhile
After I saw your face imagined it in lace
I'll never get over your smile

So,
Come and walk with me
Down a path that leads to forever
It'll just take one night but
Maybe we can stop
Being alone together

Come and walk with me
Down a path that leads to forever
It'll just take one night but
Baby we can stop
Being alone together...

Hank Beukema- revbuckmanmusic - 2006


http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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San Diego
Rocker

479 Posts

Posted - 12/24/2006 :  16:56:54  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
~Dragons at the Cove Bakery~

Trays of apple-almond tortes called Bethlehem's Crown are cooling on long stainless tables at the ocean end of town. Flaked pastry dragons and scaly sea serpents filled with marzipan. The coffee is free Christmas Eve and the line winds round the sandy parking lot where the Pacific Ocean sometimes crosses the Pacific Coast Highway. But not tonight. Tonight, volunteers are boxing the chocolate croissants and jewel-like mosaic Danish. Children are helping themselves to broken gingerbread men while rolling warm Pfeffernusse in confectioners sugar. Wide-eyed and in thrall. Imagining new boards in tomorrow's predicted 60 degree water. The beach fires are burning in quarter-mile marked rings sending their fragrant incense into the dark arched sky. And beyond the desert Badlands, a holy, gold light. In the east...that grounded star.

Happy Birthday, Jesus. Merry Christmas, Mick.
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 12/27/2006 :  03:57:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
SO..were they soulmates?..........soulmates, no they were not soulmates, not in the true sense of the word.
for true soulmates never know comparisons.......


they were very close to being soulmates, but not close enough.

if anything they were wounded soulmates,the more they loved one another the more they hurt one another.

......it created a distance between them that with the passing of time caused them to drift away from each other.

the thought of separation the only thing that kept them together.

a strong bond,like a thin glass tube,about to shatter into a million pieces.........leaving splinters of fine glass,invisible to the naked eye but would inevitably cut deep into two souls.


no,they were not soulmates,that is,they did not know that they were not.
for you see,the distance betweem them was too much to overcome.
and so it must be.



o
poe
o
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1844 Posts

Posted - 12/28/2006 :  17:29:24  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Before the stormy crossing the nights fell down around them. Their future written in blood. Red letters. Fatal losses and refueled faith in the face of a sky silently falling. The heart's calligraphy transcribed to flash paper. Quiet quilts of fire and silken ash. The first night they slept in the hold. Cold. And the sea was churning. Fish swam through their dream leaving them with a new vision. He saw the saw-toothed mountains. The semaphore signals on the desert floor. The beckoning borderlands smoldering in stone bowls. Their fragrant incense rising. Juniper and sage out of the canyons. Under the umber-lit cliffs deep in the warp and weave of it she stood barefoot at last light. His name the password. The amulet caught on the tip of her tongue. "Guard this fire," he said, and bowed his head. So the sea repossessed the sun every night and threw some Heaven above the treetops. Each day had its own illumination and by dark they were surrounded by the singing stars.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1844 Posts

Posted - 12/28/2006 :  17:31:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
PS That's no mirage on the runway. Just a guy out on the tarmac pulling the jet in with sticks.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2705 Posts

Posted - 01/06/2007 :  19:02:13  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The scars on the inside
Shine even in the dark
And make his face look mean
So he hides it...

But he is known to be gentle
with the right one...

Rev Buckman

http://www.mytown.ca/outsiders/beukema/
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