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Grania
Rocker

104 Posts

Posted - 03/30/2007 :  19:13:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...and you, Sir Doug...
Knight of troubadors.
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aussiedave
Rocker

Australia
495 Posts

Posted - 03/31/2007 :  01:29:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
there can never be
a more perfect sound

than a single note

from the rustle of a chime.


....it lasts

............forever.






has anyone seen
my sweet.........?



~*~
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2699 Posts

Posted - 03/31/2007 :  08:51:10  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Gypsy woman has me in her grip...

I put Melinda on a pedestal
she never asked to be on
and have spent months trying to
prove that I can make her fall off...

I say again:

I woke up inside a dream
I never wanted to end
There's a whole lot of fences
I never got to mend
When you think of it, with pride aside
There's no reason we can't bend
When it comes right down to it

Can't a lover be a friend?


Rev Buckman



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

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 03/31/2007 :  09:07:00  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Yes...

but
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 03/31/2007 :  13:24:11  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...the truth is in the "but"
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1551 Posts

Posted - 03/31/2007 :  17:25:50  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Truth under all the truths.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1551 Posts

Posted - 03/31/2007 :  17:29:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The wind holds its breath when a ghost ship slips into the harbor. The power on Calle Azul flickers and goes out. At Swindlers Heart Cove the train curves along toward Trestles. There, just below the surface of the water the serpent stirs. O, Captain- Fare-thee-well!
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rodeo
Swinger

USA
733 Posts

Posted - 03/31/2007 :  18:00:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...
but
...
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2699 Posts

Posted - 04/02/2007 :  17:50:49  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Memory under memory
The things I can't control
Steam rises from the rooftops
Of the city of my soul
It's too late now to travel
What is left to leave?
Memory under memory
Pulling on my sleeve"


DOUG LANG

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

USA
2699 Posts

Posted - 04/03/2007 :  19:15:13  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I sit in the dark
In the back of the cafe...
She tells me she loves me and then
Leaves me...

Does she not realize
It could matter less to me..
.
I am dying...
Nobody matters to me...

Least of all a dance hall girl...

Rev Buckman


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

Australia
495 Posts

Posted - 04/04/2007 :  04:11:44  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
something drew me to Newbury.......Joe Z

something drew me to Newbury.

...breeze lullaby..

...maybe..

AD
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2699 Posts

Posted - 04/04/2007 :  19:07:50  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
JUST WHISKEY UNDER THE BRIDGE


Last time I saw her it was at the airport
All those weeks ago
She was laughing, watching me wave
Ev'rything moved so slow...
She headed back to her own life
The one that didn't include me
I'd asked her to be my wife
But
She still needed to be free...

Now I'm holding my own nightly vigil
Wond'ring where or when
I killed her love, never saw it die
There's so much I've lost since then...

There's been so much whiskey passed under the bridge
I'm ready to take the leap
Washed away in a river of tears
At least when I'm done I'll get some sleep
It's just whiskey under the bridge
Nothin to worry about
Call it love I was in, call it life we're all in
At least now I know I'm out...

It started out at midnite
A hundred kisses of joy
It didn't take long for me
To prove a man could be a boy
There's something said for having known the lady
I wish it could have been more
But what I carry to the end
She touched me to my core...

There's been so much whiskey passed under the bridge
I'm ready to take the leap
Washed away in a river of tears
At least when I'm done I'll get some sleep
It's just whiskey under the bridge
Nothin to worry about
Call it love I was in, call it life we're all in
At least now I know I'm out...

There's been so much whiskey passed under the bridge
I'm ready to take the leap
Washed away in a river of tears
At least when I'm gone I'll get some sleep
It's just whiskey under the bridge
Nothin to worry about
Call it love I was in, call it life we're all in
At least now I know I'm out...

HANK BEUKEMA revbuckmanmusic 2007


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

1551 Posts

Posted - 04/05/2007 :  19:12:20  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Post cards arrive with no name or 'wish you were with me'. His displaced orphan. Her vagrant's repertoire. The cellophane air crackles around him in drought-driven April. Three meager inches of rain since last July. A radiant smog skims the pewter-embroidered Pacific. Harsh shadows and fluorescent graffiti intricately entwined. A bad sign.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2699 Posts

Posted - 04/05/2007 :  20:38:37  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Snow here in April.
I watch my beloved Yankees open in a squall...
Just what is a squall?
It is ****in snowin and blowin like it was December....
Thats what a squall is..

Rev Buckman

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

USA
2699 Posts

Posted - 04/06/2007 :  08:37:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Poem: "Failing and Flying" by Jack Gilbert, from Refusing Heaven.


Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of triumph.




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aussiedave
Rocker

Australia
495 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  04:29:41  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Has Dorothy misplaced her red shoes?
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5417 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  04:51:19  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Yes, Henry. It is a strong poem. Jack is
speaking of Santorini, days with Linda,
the Aegean, the hot stones, and a love so
splendorous even in its denouement. They
lived in a place called Monolithos, which
means 'single stone'. He named one of his
books after that place. I saw them together
in San Francisco at a radio station, we
were both there to be on my friend Bart's
late night show. I sang a few songs and
Jack read, read magnificently, a few of his
fine poems. "This is to tell you I am not
coming back / to tell you instead of my
life among people / who must wrestle their
hearts / in order to feel anything." No
matter what happens to us, there is a
poem or a song waiting to be our friend.
And then there are days when we choose
our own way, leave the path for a wider
adventure, even days when we write our
own poems and songs. You've done it and
I've done it. Those are the days that
we bring the sun back north. There are
no curtains strong enough or dark enough
to block its light. That poem I quoted
from above is from Monolithos, is called
A Description Of Happiness.


http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1551 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  20:59:19  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Salvatierra says he's drunker than he thought. He walks over to the mirror in the front room and stares into it. "I could seperate myself from the quicksilver of the mirror I was leaning against, or what I mean is, I could peel my hands off the glass of that old mirror (noticing all the same, how my fingerprints lingered like ten tiny faces speaking in unison and so quickly that I couldn't make out their words.)"

~Roberto Bolano~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1551 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  21:03:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Of course nothing is as it seems and always as it should be. I save everything, Ro. I try to. The old poems and songs and stuff. I went out to the barn... The old dresser that I love. Silver comin' off the back of it... Hardly no mirror left at all...Beveled glass. Oh, how I loved it...

~Mickey Newbury~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1551 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  12:01:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...when a society is in great danger, (writers are) likely to sound the alarms. I have the canary-bird-in-the-coal-mine theory of the arts. You know, coal miners used to take the birds down into the mines with them to detect gas before men got sick. The artists certainly did that in the case of Vietnam. They chirped and keeled over. But it made no difference whatsoever. Nobody important cared. But I continue to think that artists -all artists- should be treasured as alarm systems."
1973

"Poverty is a relatively mild disease...but uselessness will kill strong and weak souls alike."
1965

"You cannot be a good writer of serious fiction if you are not depressed."
Undated speech to American Psychiatric Assn.

"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be."
1962

"When I think about my own death, I don't console myself with the idea that my descendants and my books and all that will live on. Anybody with any sense knows that the whole solar system will go up like a celluloid collar by-the-by. I honestly believe, though, that we are wrong to think that moments go away, never to be seen again. This moment and every moment lasts forever."
1974

An American original.

Kurt Vonnegut
1922 ~ 2007

~So it goes~


Edited by - Ailinn on 04/12/2007 12:03:24
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