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Joe Z
Windchimer

USA
1766 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  12:25:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The travels of Billy Pilgrim changed the way I think about time and space.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  12:49:13  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
An original...

http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3744 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  19:31:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Schlachthof Fünf
I was taken to Dresden, not realizing that the author had been there...along with Billy Pilgrim. Tralfamadore became a real place, and who could ever forget the twisted mind of Paul Lazzaro.

Then of course "Cat's Cradle" and "Slapstick", the tale of Daffodil and "Lonesome No More".

Always trying to figure out where he was coming from, not knowing where we had been...and the places where we were being taken.

Yes..."so it goes"

craig

Edited by - Craig on 04/12/2007 19:33:19
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aussiedave
Rocker

Australia
497 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  04:23:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...and he drove on into the night
alone,
a melancholic memory sitting right beside him,
this his second companion, not that he felt lonely
for he preferred his own company

a selfish trait really,
so self-centered

and he was one with his vehicle,
entombed,
an entity in a compact space,
his melancholic memory and himself
as he slid along that highway anaconda
toward a rendeavous with his past
watched by a million astral eyes
a canyon filled star studded sky

this his first companion
being one with the universe
an eternity of distance at arms length...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  16:00:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...an eternity of distance at arms length..."

AD~ There's a place out on the Borrego Badlands where you can walk into the night sky. No city lights. Just the black and stars around you.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  16:37:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Before dawn, while you're still sleeping,
Playing the part of a dreamer whose house is an ark
Tossed about by a flood that will never subside,
Its dove doomed to return with no twig,
Your neighbor's already up, pulling his boots on,
Playing the part of a fisherman,
Gathering gear and loading his truck
And driving to the river and wading in
As if fishing is all he ever wanted.

~Carl Dennis~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  16:55:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
First, a hazy radiance. A mist of rain. His raised hammered cup. Her amber lantern moving quickly through the trees. Then the sky unspooled. A star fell. A flood of mystery. "Take haste with the children!" he cried under thunder as they fled across the lightning-striped moor. The portent rain fell down around them. When they reached the edge of the driftwood-choked shore they tumbled into the mocking ocean. The crossing was centuries long longing for higher ground. Sea serpents interrupted his dreaming. His inventory of the sky. His stories all recalling stormy weather. Abandoned souls endlessly petitioning his rescue-worn heart. What else could he do but save them? One Sunday he found the providential inlet and pulled the Ark ashore.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  17:23:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"It happened that quickly!" she says and snaps her water-logged fingers. The lamps glow low and blossom against the adobe. In dusky light he sits at the old oaken table with his warm cup before him. His cloudy fruit with its spiraling vines. "Two kinds of grapes on the arbor..." he muses. He moves closer to the open oven door and tips back in his gravity-defying chair, "...good grapes, too." She nods and continues sweeping wonder across the kitchen floor.
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aussiedave
Rocker

Australia
497 Posts

Posted - 04/21/2007 :  01:43:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
..funny how that road looks the same
after all those years

his gaze held captive
by a forty year memory
as an eleven year old
sitting in the rear seat
of the ghost car in front

his gaze shifted
held forever briefly
to that shattered rear view
a mirrored anaconda
in a rectangled frame
his past captured by the present
as it disappeared into the distance..
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aussiedave
Rocker

Australia
497 Posts

Posted - 04/21/2007 :  01:46:16  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
he remembered..
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aussiedave
Rocker

Australia
497 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  04:23:49  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
how he had changed
but how he had changed not
an eleven year old
left clinging
inside the body

of a fifty year old child..

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  06:48:55  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I have gone to that
dark heart of the night
And seen myself looking back at me
As in a mirror
Asking,
How did I come to this?

Flying in a dream...
Ready to die but
No longer wanting to.
It is time to shed the old
Dead skin and bring out
The new wine...

Tonite we dance...

Rev B
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aussiedave
Rocker

Australia
497 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  14:55:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
shake that rusty chain and let it go.........
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  17:57:10  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Evening, Reverend B~
Any place you land is a good place. Even if the beach is fog-bound. Even if you don't know where you're touching the ground. It's not drifting out that's dangerous. The tide will bring you back in. It's not knowing where the bottom is. Churning in the wave. Trying to get enough breath before you're caught in the next one. The board is attatched to your ankle with a leash. It floats. It can also hit you in the head. The trick is knowing when to kick free. Today's surf was choppy. Paddle out, snap up, ride in quick. Or wipe out and eat some sand. Some days you eat a lot of sand.
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Grania
Rocker

104 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  18:00:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A waltz, then, Reverend, if you will.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/27/2007 :  06:20:51  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
DANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
by Rev J Alfred Buckman


It's time we all started dancin
Under the eclipsable sun
We're all gettin tired of waitin
For the omnipotent One

He's in us,He is us,He knows it
It's time that we knew it too
The One we seek is all over
It's up to us to break through

There's a soul that ties us together
It's name is whatever you say
Come sit with me now in the evening
And we'll drink to the undying way

Tomorrow is never the right time
For us it's always today
So grab a partner,my friends and we'll all dance
Round that rock that stands in our way


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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 04/28/2007 :  17:19:54  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Cold coming out of the ocean this morning. The Coffee Bar hidden in fog above the beach. It's aroma rolling down the hill and casting a spell upon us. Tourists said we looked outer-worldly slipping out of the misty sea with our black suits shining. Our boards like shields at our sides. "...such an eerie apparition..." the couple on honeymoon from Cape Girardeau, Missouri said. The bride is April and her husband is Neil. They wanted to be married in her namesake month. They took our picture and we took theirs. "Cape Girardeau?" Cam said. "Oh, yes! On the Mississippi. The only inland cape in the world," said April. And the setting for McMurtry's Song for a Deck Hand's Daughter.

Wind off the river
Cut the lines in his face
And left him dreaming of some other place
Maybe Memphis town or Baton Rouge
When it's cold in Cape Girardeau
There's nothin' much to do

~James McMurtry~
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3744 Posts

Posted - 04/28/2007 :  22:10:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Eyes open wide as a child in wonder, a discovery at hand.

Her face, illuminated by a glow from within, gazes at what is beyond. "It is perfect", she breathes silently to herself.

She quietly places the location of it in the secret hiding place of her memory, a place where no one else may see...or hear, or touch...unless she allows it to be so.

The safest place...for a secret.

Nothing written, nothing spoken...possibly nothing at all.

A wisp of a memory...maybe...

Are you sure that is what you heard???

Now, you know...or do you???

~ craig

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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 04/29/2007 :  17:34:51  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He wants the story over and over again. "Start at the beginning and tell it slow," he says. He navigates the blueprints to their final destination. He sets the intrepid cornerstone himself. Aware of an air of enchantment. The house goes up quickly on his X-Marks-the-Spot. The canyons behind them fill up like blue bowls. An owl blinks in the eucalyptus waiting for sunset. Five minutes and five miles away. A congregation of feathers assemble on the telephone wires. He knows her solitary ways. Her buried grief of stone. He sings to her the sweet words of a lullaby. "...Here come the stars now, Lady. Night lights the chandeliers envy..." They lean out the window with their elbows resting on the sun-warmed sill.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1575 Posts

Posted - 05/02/2007 :  23:12:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Sepia pictures on the Post Office wall. The last light at sunset touching numbers under their chins. They blink at each other. They nod. Peach light. Then gold. Colors streaming in the rear-view mirror pulling out of the parkijng lot. The cop waves her on. Smiling. Holding traffic behind his beautiful, crooked teeth.
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