Mickey Newbury Web Board
Mickey Newbury Web Board
Home | Profile | Register | Active Topics | Members | Search | FAQ
Username:
Password:
Save Password
Forgot your Password? | Admin Options

 All Forums
 The Back Porch
 Open Topic
 The Nightly Vigil
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
Previous Page | Next Page
Author  Topic Next Topic
Page: of 156 Lock Topic Edit Topic Delete Topic New Topic Reply to Topic

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 09/20/2007 :  17:29:31  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
While we are Gods
We can only watch them struggle...
While we are Gods we cannot help them
In their pain,,,

I wish that we could tell them to stop,
Don't worry
It won't change anything...
Do your best
Love one another
Believe in what you have to....

Until we have faces
We cannot help them...
Someday Yahweh will
Send one to walk among them....

Rev Buckman
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1729 Posts

Posted - 09/20/2007 :  17:31:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Remember this life in amber."

~Mickey Newbury~
Go to Top of Page

BarbraG
Windchimer

1820 Posts

Posted - 09/21/2007 :  23:42:07  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Whistling softly, driving slowly, running quickly, caring fully,
singing sadly, crying hopelessly, loving madly, screaming silently,
thinking soulfully, comforting tirelessly, feeling lowly, teaching endlessly,
walking warily, trusting suspiciously, waiting hopefully ..
all could describe some form of loving carefully.

ExCUZE me ?? , as Suzanne Sugarbaker would say. "What in
sam hill is she TALKIN' about?
Well, don't ask me !! I got nothin' to hide !!!
BGee


Edited by - BarbraG on 09/21/2007 23:44:37
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 09/23/2007 :  07:10:22  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Martina was running south, on the tracks of the West Shore Hudson River Line.
I was behind her, chasing her, as usual, always chasing her.
Running.
Running.
We passed the Edward Hopper/Hitchcock house.
The Victorian mansion painted by Hopper,
Used in Psycho, stood silhouetted against the full moon.
I could hear the familiar strains of my friend's
One big hit, The Pina Colada song coming from the top floor window.
As we rounded the bend where the tracks curved around the mountain,
Jesse came out of the woods where I had last seen him.
He said, Dad, don't you have anything better to dream about?
I said, Jesster, The Yanks beat Toronto in eleven today,
He said, I know, Thurman and I watched it together...

Dad.

Wake up...

I said, Ok, boyo.
See you tomorrow nite...

Rev Buckman
Go to Top of Page

BarbraG
Windchimer

1820 Posts

Posted - 09/23/2007 :  22:27:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Hank,
I am so sorry that you lost your Jesster. That was a
beautiful thing, sharing your dream.

Barb
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1729 Posts

Posted - 09/26/2007 :  17:50:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...pages and pages of dreams..."

~Mickey Newbury~
Go to Top of Page

BarbraG
Windchimer

1820 Posts

Posted - 09/26/2007 :  22:34:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Stepped up to the plate, he did. Stepped up and owned it
like a man. The counselor had said, "Man up to this
and treat it like the armed warhead that it is, but with kindness and
with compassion,
if you want to save your marriage". He knew that,
unless he learned to control his rage and his anger, his family
was lost to him ... forever. He was a veteran of the Gulf War,
and had never been the same since coming home. Sometimes, he
just changed into another personality, ranting and raving ...
about nothing. And, sometimes, he had wished he had never made it
back. He had often felt like a walking dead man, still in the
throes of battle, waiting ... waiting ... for what, he didn't know.
Whatever it was, it was ominous. But, ominous and horror and
terror and fear were words that he wanted to leave in his dark
yesterdays. He admitted to his wife that he was suffering ...
still suffering inside and was trying to find the words that would
help her to forgive him for things he did and things he didn't do...
things he said and things he didn't say.... He was full of hope and
love and depending on her great faith in him.....in spite of what
he had put her through. She told him that she would wait for
him ..... wait for him to come completely home -- all the way --
in his heart and in his mind . . . . . . to her.

Edited by - BarbraG on 09/26/2007 22:37:53
Go to Top of Page

Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 09/27/2007 :  01:05:42  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Love cuts a lot of arguments short.
It helps when you're with intelligent people.
The lover decides he won't say any more,
afraid the pearl may fall out of his mouth.
As when Mohammed recited parts of the Koran,
think how still and alert his companions became,
as when a bird lights on your head and you barely breathe.
You don't dare cough or sneeze, lest it fly away.
If anyone speaks, whether sweet or sour, you say "Shhh..."
Awe resembles the bird that makes you quiet.
Awe and wonder fasten the lid to the kettle
as soon as your love inside is boiling.

Jelalludin Rumi (1204-1273)


http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
Go to Top of Page

BarbraG
Windchimer

1820 Posts

Posted - 09/27/2007 :  08:44:34  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ohh, Doug, 'twould be wonderful if troubled marriages could
live by that. 'Twould.

BGee
Go to Top of Page

Jackie
Windchimer

Austria
2057 Posts

Posted - 09/27/2007 :  09:27:45  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Barbra, Rumi (the Muslim) wrote lots of other deep and intelligent things too.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1729 Posts

Posted - 09/28/2007 :  18:24:33  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Cypress, sycamore, and chaparral. Oak and juniper. In the city's wild heart of fairytale trails above the Autumn-warm Pacific, there dwells in an ancient labyrinthine cave a seer of old and his mascot Raven. He sits with his head in his smoky hands at the rough-hewn oaken table and sips from a bottle of unusual design wrapped 'round with a braided gold wire. Some days he watches the fog unspool in ribbons toward Catalina. Some days he straddles the ridgeline trails through meadows of fire bloom and low, glowing clover. Some nights he makes his way to the gypsy camp and the Tinkerman's high-sided wagon. Miniature scissors and bone-handled knives sharpened faithfully on the whetstone of reflection. A game of chess, then. A cup of stew. A walk with the mute Fortune Teller. Her ruby-stung ears and shivering, shawl-draped shoulders. Above him the stars in their infallible wisdom continue to burn all night long.
Go to Top of Page

Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 09/29/2007 :  00:02:09  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The small man builds cages
for everyone he knows
while the old sage,
who has to duck his head
when the moon is low,
keeps dropping keys
all night long
for the beautiful,
rowdy prisoners.

Hafiz



http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury

Edited by - Doug L on 09/29/2007 10:40:03
Go to Top of Page

buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 09/29/2007 :  06:43:38  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Before this rain it had been
dry for weeks...

The music man had said it
looked like rain...
I took it on faith and used
the last of the water to
clean the horse's dusty nostrils...

And then it came...

First the music and
then the rain...

Healing..

Cleansing..

Saving...

Thanks, Mick...
Go to Top of Page

Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 09/29/2007 :  10:11:59  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
http://www3.telus.net/billybob/betterdays/pontiac.htm

I'm buying an old Pontiac today, September 29th.
A 1988 Bonneville. Cool.

DL

http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
Go to Top of Page

Roy
Firefly

USA
2627 Posts

Posted - 09/29/2007 :  17:03:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Roy a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Check the oil...kick the tires...put a blanket over the exposed springs on the driver's side...one stout fist on the right side of the dash will make the radio come to life...does the indian on the hood still light up...is there a real spare in the trunk...polish the hood...to hell with the rest...now it's your turn to pay the piper.

Luv ya Duke!
Go to Top of Page

BarbraG
Windchimer

1820 Posts

Posted - 09/29/2007 :  17:31:02  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
That's sweet, Doug. I heard you layed down your pen for a long
time. Aren't you glad that you found it again? I know I am. !

BGee
Go to Top of Page

alrhayes
Rocker

Japan
201 Posts

Posted - 09/30/2007 :  05:12:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Click to see alrhayes's MSN Messenger address  Send alrhayes a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Father's Amen - Interlude

Bless this bread that we now break
Bless this food that we partake
That we remember one who died
That we could see through loving eyes

Oh faith...
Faith is all that matters

~~ from Blue to this Day ~~
Go to Top of Page

BarbraG
Windchimer

1820 Posts

Posted - 10/01/2007 :  17:24:44  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Ryan, when that ball comes at you, say this to yourself, "I HATE
that ball! I HATE that ball! I HATE that ball !!! and then,.. knock
it out of the stadium !!! And, when that big football player comes
your way, duck !!"

"Nanu, I'm going to play football when I graduate, and I'm going to
college on a football scholarship".

"Oh, Ryan, please play baseball, NOT football !! Please !!"

(Years later)

"So, Ryan, who do you plan to play football for?"

"Well, Nanu, there's been a change of plans. I know I'm just
13, but I've decided not to play football OR baseball !"

"Oh, sweetie, that's GREAT !! I won't have to worry about you
getting injured on either field !"

"Well, that's the good news, Nanu. The bad news is ...(as far as
you're concerned because you worry about me so much), is this.
No, I'm not going to college on a football or baseball scholarship.
I want to fly a Blackhawk helicopter for the Marines !!!"

(Shattered, and thinking to myself . . 'How can I get the Bronco's
to sign my sweet Ryan, sight unseen, while he's just 13 ?')(Also
thinking to myself, 'Sometimes, we need to leave well enough alone'.)

He loves the Broncos, having lived near Denver for the last four
years of his dad's Air Force tour.


True story (mine and Ryan's)
BarbraG
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1729 Posts

Posted - 10/02/2007 :  19:46:29  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There were trees at the curb growing out of round grates in the sidewalk. Leaves loosening in a swirl of wind. His hand gripped hers tighter before he steered her into the store. She chose the dress on the mannequin. A dress too serious for California. Black, with jet beads on the collar and cuffs and a deep hem that swept her knees. She slipped the dress over her head and stepped into the gilded bay window. He was pacing outside with his cigarette as the taxies sped by. He nodded. Pointed to the hat that was mostly veil and nodded again. The tangle of words they didn't say later that day on Cafe avenue. Their cold hands entwined as a rush of leaves warned of Autumn's fall. She could see winter buses in his faraway gaze. Huffing steam rising up through the manholes. Mazes of ice-encased glass and steel cages jutting into the metropolitan sky. All this in his eyes on an afternoon in a city on the wrong side of North America.
Go to Top of Page

Ailinn
Windchimer

1729 Posts

Posted - 10/02/2007 :  19:47:44  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Is the past any less real than the present?"

~Mickey Newbury~
Go to Top of Page
Page: of 156  Topic Next Topic   Lock Topic Edit Topic Delete Topic New Topic Reply to Topic
Previous Page | Next Page
 New Topic  Reply to Topic
 Printer Friendly
Jump To:
Mickey Newbury Web Board © 2003 Mickeynewbury.com Go To Top Of Page
Snitz Forums 2000