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Ailinn
Windchimer

1509 Posts

Posted - 11/24/2007 :  17:18:12  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The omnipresent tomato fields look forlorn in November. She's popping loaves in and out of the oven. He's leaning back in his gravity-defying chair. She watches his hands. How they curve around the cup and finger the crusty slices. He likes the bread warm and the butter cool but not chilled. Served in a small white crock. He likes to finish a slice or two before he starts talking. Then he disturbs the moon. He rearranges the furniture under Heaven. He opens and closes his eyes unaware of his power.
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1802 Posts

Posted - 11/24/2007 :  18:47:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There's a beautiful red sunset
... out on the ocean blue --
It's dancing on the water
It reminds me so of you..
I'm happy to sit and listen
To the waves come rushing in..
The sound always takes me back
To the girl I was back then
...

Wherever you are in the world tonight
I hope you'll hear my heart ..
As it calls out to you, my love
Though we are far apart ..
Just come home to me someday --
I'm waiting by the sea ..
And, no matter how long it takes ..
Right here is where I'll be.


Barbra Griffin
BGee




Edited by - BarbraG on 11/24/2007 18:48:18
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Judy W.
Windchimer

1957 Posts

Posted - 11/24/2007 :  18:52:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Tears here, my love, my ocean, my true love.

Judy C.
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3734 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  08:47:35  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The rain blows in from the Gulf,
Thunder and lightning fill the darkened sky
Alone in the small house, he sits and reflects on
The occurrence of yesterday and
What thoughts awaken today.
Last night's coffee warmed over.
Bitter, yet appreciated for
The warmth it brings to the body
And soul.

Letters from an old friend
Discussions to and fro...
Friends from different countries
Two that are beholden to each other
As brethren in the cause.
Both are at odds with their thoughts,
And yet still remain in agreement
With each other.
Neither decide what to do
Or what not to...in response
To the invasion of sanctity, with nary
A chance of apology...

~ Craig
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5416 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  15:28:47  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
When someone dies
Trees bow to the water
For the son and for the daughter
Close your eyes
The earth rolls on
While we sleep it keeps on turning
Toward a deeper kind of learning
The old wisdoms arise...
That's how it is when someone dies

Bless this cold December
Through the graves the wind is blowing
What we knew and now are knowing
Is closed within this field
Button up your coat
The weather's gotten colder
Every year as we've grown older
Wounds so slow to heal
They sleep beneath this snowy field

In a farmhouse kitchen
This old woman she is crying
She's making tea, at least she's trying
To function through her tears
But she is tired
Her old body made these children
Now death has come and stilled them
It's their voices that she hears
In the silence behind her tears

One day in the springtime
The river's ice will turn to water
And the son and the daughter
Like bluebonnets shall return
One day in the spring
We'll go out and gather
Our sorrows all together
Strike a match and let 'em burn
And the bluebonnets shall return

DL


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

1509 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  16:35:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He does not allow much weeping. An egg timer shaped like an hour glass. Three minutes and no tattered veils. No shuddering grief to assail them. Peacock feathers. Iridescent eyes to guard her yard when he fills her windows with them.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1509 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  16:38:36  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Arsonist's apprentice. Her heart's low flash-point and faulty fuse in his fistful of frayed trip-wires. His smoldering pages like short-circuited lightning where smoke from this fire still rises. The plot in his heart God sees. "Flame...not sparkle," he whispers.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1509 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  16:41:49  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Rules to use when walking on water. Pray the prescribed prayer. Don't look for the Lifeboat. The waves will grow teeth and sink into your heels. The Coast Guard will be busy with coffee and donuts. The tide will rise under your bed. Expect that. Remember red right returning. Three bells. The Sailor's weather-wise eyes.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2698 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  20:31:04  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Melinda turned and said to me,
When you spend an entire life
dreaming of sex, likker and drugs,
There's not much time left for
career, family, savings...

I turned away and said,
Oh well, there's still time...

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Jonmark
Windchimer

USA
1778 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  20:54:17  Show Profile  Visit Jonmark's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
You're on a roll Hank.
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andrew p
Firefly

USA
3934 Posts

Posted - 11/25/2007 :  23:45:25  Show Profile  Visit andrew p's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
jeez JM...I hope for Hank's sake, it's buttered!

andrew

Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music. -- -John Milton

Edited by - andrew p on 11/25/2007 23:46:01
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3734 Posts

Posted - 11/29/2007 :  20:00:38  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Anvil. The centerpiece of the smithy, the center of the universe. Each anvil has its own spirit. Some ring, some are quite dampened with no resonance at all. Each one different, but somehow, each one the same.

...he rises from his stooped position one last time. One more fire, one more blade.

He raises his hammer and "strikes the iron while it's hot". He strikes again and again until the dull sound turns to a ringing. "Back in the forge with ya!", he exclaims. "A man can go to Hell for hittin' cold iron!"

He waits patiently, as he has many times before. Waiting for the right color, waiting for the right heat. The steel in the forge starts a low hiss, a spark or two comes from the fire. The piece is singing, telling him it is time to go back to the anvil and to be striked with the hammer. An act he has repeated for what seems like forever.

The old bladesmith is doing the only thing he knows. "This will be the best one" he says, as was his custom to say to himself every time he performs this ritual. He moves in perfect unison with the dance.

The dance. They always dance on the walls of the old smithy. Everytime he works, they dance. The shadows in their elfen ways, stay to the walls, keeping rhythm with the firey forge and jumping with the sparks at each hammer blow.

He lifts the piece from the face of the anvil, looks over it once again with a keen eye. He lightly taps it to straighten it until it is perfectly true. He marvels at his handiwork as he examines it one last time.

It is done, it is finished. This last one. The iredescence fades as the fire in the old coal forge slowly subsides. The figures fade away at each passing moment. The shadows on the wall will be no more. The glimmer of hope is gone. It is now over...

The forge is now cold,
the anvil rings no more.


~ Craig

I was asked to post this once again.

Edited by - Craig on 11/29/2007 20:03:44
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2698 Posts

Posted - 11/30/2007 :  20:35:13  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I told Melinda,
I didn't quit to bring me back to you.
I quit to bring me back to me.

It should've made her happy either way,
but I'm not sure it did...

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2698 Posts

Posted - 12/01/2007 :  11:15:12  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The men at breakfast at the Lutheran church were all Norwegian seamen or
carpenters with hands like steel and older than me...
My Dad had gone to speak and I was there as his guest...
Some of the men even remembered me from twenty years ago when I ran a weekly
meeting for alcoholics in the very basement we were eating in...
I found out that when I fell out and started the "life" again, a few of them
had gone back, too and had let the dark side take them over and were long
dead now...

It reminded me how precious every moment of sobriety must be and how much of
an influence, both good and bad, we are to others...

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Grania
Rocker

103 Posts

Posted - 12/01/2007 :  17:19:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"I love this old room...
The figurines on the tabletops,
the dusty pictures on the walls,
the white bearded handsome man
that sings his waltzes quietly in the corner...
The friends stopping by on the odd nite....."

~Reverend Buckman~

O, stay on the bright side my long-time dear friend.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1509 Posts

Posted - 12/01/2007 :  17:29:10  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
That year he slept well
One wooden ship in the harbor
Rocking like a cradle
Amber glow in the galley
Night sky full of promises
And a fixed silver moon
Rumors of sun and blue sky
In his everyday eyes
All the necessary miracles
Orbiting around him
Stars on the floor
When they walked through the door
Every nightfall
Later
When he was on his knees
At the edge of the world
Celestial nights at his shoulders
His steep heart praying
His profile
Which remained the same
The familiar refrain
When the stars came
With their unfailing answer
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5416 Posts

Posted - 12/01/2007 :  23:33:47  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
BESSIE SMITH

When she came north the interviewer
asked her why she
wore a sequined dress

She laughed
up from her belly she smiled, said
I wear these sparkles
to fool people a while

Make 'em think I dropped
down from the stars 'stead of
comin' up out of
the river

DL


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

1802 Posts

Posted - 12/02/2007 :  13:10:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Go on, go on up ahead and wait for me where the river
branches off." Dad didn't want me to have to walk as slow
as he did. I knew he wanted to run with me and jump up beside
me to pull some low-hanging moss from the trees. The simplest
things had been the most fun in the raising of me by my Dad.
He taught me to linger on things that were pleasant and to stay
a long while with those who made me laugh. He taught me that
the best things in life ARE free !! "No, Dad . . I'm hangin' with
you today !! If we walk at a slower pace, we can talk. If we
run, we'll be out of breath." "Well, son. That sounds good to
me. When we get back to the house, I'm gonna start whittlin' me
another walkin' stick ! But, it's the runnin' stick I really
want !!"

BGee
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Jonmark
Windchimer

USA
1778 Posts

Posted - 12/02/2007 :  19:12:15  Show Profile  Visit Jonmark's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
When I'm not working maintenance, I work the front desk.
It balances out to be about 60/40... front desk/unclogging toilets.
At first, when the new schedule got posted, I'd ask my boss whether I should “dress for people, or trash”. Lately, it's been more clearly defined.
Mostly it just means a different shirt, and a closer shave.

Front desk can be mind numbingly dull hours interspersed with moments like plate spinning Chinese fire drills. Five people checking in, three phone lines lit, and at least one guest, pissed off about something, wanting to be served first.

You see it all at the front desk of a hotel.
Often the worst of people come out when they are road worn, tired and hungry.
Had a guest check in last night who insisted she'd reserved a Queen and had been put into a room with a Full sized bed. The clerk on duty tried to convince her she was wrong, but the disagreement spilled over into my shift this morning. I was ready to take out a measuring tape to prove she was wrong... but then again, the guest isn't EVER wrong.

Sometimes, no matter how many miles you've traveled, and how much "snow is on the roof", people can still surprise the hell out of you.
Had a couple and their sons stay with us for three or four weeks. The wife was ever so polite and fastidious... always borrowing vacuums, cleansers and brooms from housekeeping. Getting her own fresh towels and linens at least once a day.
Susie homemaker.

They checked out suddenly last week. Husband came to me at the front desk needing a battery jump and asking about his security deposit. I pulled his account up on the computer, told him we indeed owed him a few bucks, and he went off with our chief of maintenance, Jim, to get his car started... telling me he'd be back in a few for his money.
Next thing I know, the family car sped past the office and out of the parking lot.
Then Jim came to the desk and said, "you've got to see 145… NOW". So I locked the drawer and followed him down the hall to a room that had been totally destroyed. Both chest of drawers shattered... garbage and waste everywhere. Paint job totally ruined... even the electrical outlet covers had been striped from the walls.
Jim and I spent the better part of two days rebuilding that room.

Just goes to show you... you're never too old to have the wool pulled over your peepers.
Jim and I often whistle the same song at work.
Hotel California.


Edited by - Jonmark on 12/03/2007 20:12:51
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5416 Posts

Posted - 12/02/2007 :  21:12:49  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Jonmark, I'm right there with you. Hotels and motels. I
used to stay in the ones I played at when I was on the
lounge lizard circuit. Boy, you'd think the circus was
in town every night. Then there's the Hotel Myspace...
where Mickey's nephew(?) showed up to say hi a while ago.
Turns out to be the same one who won the big raffle that
first gathering after Mickey passed on. Those who were
there remember, recall the worries over whether it would
be a tear festival, all about the sadness of losing him
(and it was, at times), or if the music would lift us, or
if somehow we'd get a signal, you know?. When they picked
that ticket for the raffle winner - was it you, Roy? or Ron?
- the folks did a double take. Mickey's nephew was the
winner. His name? Mickey Newbury.

Tonight on Mickey's myspace page I got a message from a woman
by the name of Snow, telling me how her mother used to play
Mickey's music to her when she was little. A few messages later
I learn that her two names are Snow Jewel. I mention that Sammi
Smith had that pretty name, Jewel. Turns out that Snow Jewel
is Sammi's daughter.

I told her about meeting Sammi in 2003 at the Gathering, that
we'd go out and have a smoke and talk a bit while her dog Gator
watered the bushes. Snow Jewel said she remembered her mom talking
about me, about a song of mine. Who knows? I'd like to believe
that. I also told Snow Jewel about Girl Hero, the song I wrote for
her mother after she passed, the one Laura sang at the Gathering
soon after Sammi left us. Long story short, I emailed Laura's
rendition of that song to Snow Jewel tonight. She wrote back to
thank me, said the song made her cry, that it brought back twenty
years of memories of her mom.

It's not always easy being clear about why we do music, why we
write songs, spend more than we make. Must be a matter of the
heart's longing. Jonmark works in a hotel wearing two different
shirts, I work a couple of jobs to keep it together. Happenstances
like tonight's bring it all back into focus. Yes, indeed.

GIRL HERO

Concert halls and highways
Diners, old motels
Saturday night guitar pulls
Sunday mornin' bells
From Charlie Brown, See You Around
To the Toast Of '45
Makin' gigs and raisin' kids
Tryin' to stay alive

One more introduction
Thank you
One more package show
Those outlaw boys and their outlaw joys
Where did they all go?
Waylon called me Girl Hero
Mickey shared his light
And in Tennessee, Kris helped me
To make it through the night

I was born in Orange in '43
One hot August day
An Apache girl in a world at war
They named me Jewel Fay
I first stood alone at a microphone
Eleven years of age
And I lived to see my boy and me
On the Grand Ole Opry stage

One more introduction
Thank you
For all the love you show
Those outlaw boys and outlaw joys
I'm with 'em now, you know
Waylon called me Girl Hero
Mick and Willie shared their light
And in Tennessee, Kris helped me
To make it through the night

DL


http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury

Edited by - Doug L on 12/02/2007 21:58:06
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