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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 01/11/2008 :  20:19:49  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The package arrived today, the one I had been waiting for. The
postman handed it to me ever so gently. He couldn't have known
there was gold inside, but he handled it as if he did. There are
different types of gold, for sure. But, this one contained the
softest, the sweetest and the purest kind . . . 24 Karat !! I
knew this package contained a treasure that I wouldn't want to
share with anyone at first. I wanted to be alone with it. Totally.
That's the only way I would be able to unwrap its' beauty completely
and store it inside my mind and my heart. Beautiful words
accompanied by the sweetest music will always be in my Treasure
Chest. "Etched In Stone" arrived today . . a "self-portrait" of
Jonmark Stone ?? Would that be a good way to describe it? I sure
hope so. I've read that he writes what he knows and, for that
reason, this CD was worth waiting for. Congratulations, Jonmark ..
and to Bree for her support. I love it !!

BGee

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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5432 Posts

Posted - 01/11/2008 :  23:03:05  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
THE WILD FLOWERS

'Twas the wild flowers I preferred
Who owed nothing to nobody
Who blossomed in the ditches
And made their own way in the world

'Twas the wild flowers I admired
Who never done nothing to you,
But driven from the garden
They sang their own songs in the spring

You can have your lily
You can have your rose
That were taken and broken
And bred by people
They were grafted and lamed
Twisted and tamed

But the wild flowers I enjoyed
They had nothing to do with you
They blossomed by the roadside
And they wore their own colours in the sun

That were there before you
Will be there after you
That will out, that will out
LIke your own true nature
You can try, you can try
That you never will defeat

The wild flowers I admired
They had nothing to do with you
But banished from the garden
They made their own way in the world
They wore their own colours in the sun
And they sang their own songs in the spring

John Spillane of Cork


http://www.myspace.com/johnspillane

Edited by - Doug L on 01/11/2008 23:04:47
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 01/13/2008 :  16:35:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
For years they had that hidden place. Water outside their window. The deep blue sea at the ocean end of town. The wide view of combustible horizons. The kaleidoscope sky upside down. One morning he appeared in the kitchen with his rescue rope wound loosely at his shoulder. The last time you had that lasso around my ankle I nearly drowned, she said. He winked and laughed his cracked-in-half laugh and poured himself a cup of coffee. Later, when they walked along the tide pools edge, the scythe moon was not out to help them. Nor the tarnished stars in their cold astronomy. A high-banked fog was backing up beyond the breakwater. The Coast Guard was on Alert. She was afraid of the dark in a double-time tide when he tugged on the line and pulled her into deeper water. Their daring teeth were chattering. Their mouth-to-mouth lips were blue.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 01/13/2008 :  16:39:24  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The two egg cups with their three-minute eggs. The loaf of toast. The ruby preserves. In a certain light that's what she remembers. Through leaves of lustre glass. Those spherical discs from Dublin. Fire-polished windows at the right time of year. Melancholy sunsets. Red times. How he held his cup high when she ducked out the door and down to the shore's morning jewelry. Conch and jingle shells. Apricot and silver.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 01/14/2008 :  17:59:31  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ah.....

Wondered where you were, missy....
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 01/14/2008 :  19:01:19  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He lifts the lid on the box of names, "For today," he says, and hands her a scrap of paper. A cobbled town he chooses. A coastline of shipwrecks and disaster. Where the first light of dawn gathers under one tree and his breath fogs the lighthouse window.
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Grania
Rocker

108 Posts

Posted - 01/14/2008 :  19:04:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Hank, send me your email, please. I lost it.
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 01/15/2008 :  00:07:17  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ailinn,
You are published, aren't you? Please tell me where I can
get something by you in its' entirety. Okay? Okay, then.

BGee
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5432 Posts

Posted - 01/16/2008 :  23:34:18  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
THE HIDDEN SINGER

The gods are less for their love of praise.
Above and below them all is a spirit that needs nothing
but its own wholeness, its health and ours.
It has made all things by dividing itself.
It will be whole again.
To its joy we come together --
the seer and the seen, the eater and the eaten,
the lover and the loved.
In our joining it knows itself. It is with us then,
not as the gods whose names crest in unearthly fire,
but as a little bird hidden in the leaves
who sings quietly and waits, and sings.

Wendell Berry


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

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2008 :  10:55:48  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Buckman paused while lighting his cigarette...
It was in one hand...
The lighter, lit, was in the other...
His face was between them.
His eyes shone.
He put the tip of his tongue
between his lips,
withdrew it.
He moved his lips into a smile
that had nothing to do with happiness...

"So, what's up?" he said to Melinda's empty space.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2008 :  12:04:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The coolness in his face belied
the jumping up and down
that was in his heart.
He couldn't stop staring at her.

She must have kissed his face twenty times...
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2008 :  17:20:26  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It is dark...

The cafe is empty...

I push through the doors
to the street that is
empty too, of everything
but dust and longing...
You can almost smell
what happened here and the
dark emptiness that has been left behind...
We wanted it to be everything
and in the end
it was everything that we gave
And the best we had
was almost everything...
We emptied the canteens and
We emptied the guns
And we left nothing for the dust...

I remain to carry on the Work
and to wait for the next time...
Oh, my friends,
the next time will be carried
in on the wind and
when it comes we
shall all know it at the same time...

Be strong while we wait...

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Grania
Rocker

108 Posts

Posted - 01/20/2008 :  18:05:45  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
~for Reverend B and...Auld Lang Syne

Stories I Tell the Sheriff

He rode three days across the high desert
When he arrived he knew everything
He showed me a card trick
And he told me a joke
He told me to keep away from the window

He made me lay down beside him
His sleep was ahead of the posse
Our fingerprints disappeared
Before we reached the Mexican border

When I took the bullet out of his chest
He didn't flinch or change his expression
The way he let the water
Run over his head for so long
Made me think he had a fever

He has scars that shine in the moonlight
Brigter than the rest of his skin
His eyes are blue and his hair is bluer
But I can't tell you what he looks like
It was dark
Or his hat was pulled low
And his mouth was covered
With a bandana

When I shrug my shoulders
He rides away
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2008 :  07:31:02  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Carmelita asked me why I choose
to sit in the darkness so much...
I laughed and said that
when I lost my family and my religion,
the darkness kind of chose me...

I stood and we
moved gently to a Newbury Waltz;
I could smell the sunshine on her...
I told her how apart
I felt,
how I lived but did not live,
how a veil separates me from them,
and that if she
knew who she was dancing with
she would be surprised...

She tossed back her aching beauty
and laughed and said,
Don't you really know?
We are all like that,
every one of us...

I try to believe her,
but belief is a strange
and difficult thing this
far into the darkness...

So far into it that I can
hardly hear the waltz anymore.......

Rev Bobblehead - 2004
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5432 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2008 :  08:11:45  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
LINCOLN

The woman with the cream skin folded her clothes
as if tomorrow was a long way off, if coming at all.
She opened a drawer near the bed and laid them
softly down over top of a small bible, not hers.
When he came in, the smoke and dust still alive on him,
the first noise he made louder than all hers combined,
he threw his vest and shirt and pants up over hooks
as though tomorrow was knocking at the door
with a head full of trouble. His holster on the bedpost,
he lifted his ivory-handled gun to check its readiness.
Satisfied, he told tomorrow to come back later
and climbed down into the bed with her.

DL


http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
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Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4925 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2008 :  11:43:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
These last few contributions remind me of Wyatt Earp and the stories out of Tombstone. We watched a program last night......forensic scientists trying to figure out how the real Gunfight at the O K Corral took place. Who shot first, etc. All interesting.

When I read your writings......it takes on a different color.

Thanks guys.



Karen Runk
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2008 :  13:34:12  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The itching really started to bother him about Western Pennsylvania.
He's thinking it started in that state after Nebraska, what was it, Iowa?
Who cares...
He's thinking maybe they shouldn'tve made love in the poison -ivy woods by the Platte River,
but no, the car was too small and the river, hell, the river,
everybody was watching from the shore and the man and woman were yelling and swearing at them...

Running thru the station in Philly,
scratching, miserable from the speed-crash, broke, scared and just nineteen,
but with the first girl he ever really loved running next to him holding his hand...

It would be a long time before he was ever that happy again...
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2008 :  18:12:03  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The rifleman climbed down from the top of the stage, where
he had ridden shotgun for many miles. It was a job he hated
anymore, what with his youth and skill riding out from under
him. But, it was all he had now. She was gone. His black-eyed,
ebony-haired, bronze-skinned. red-lipped beauty that he had cherished
for so long had died. He had been on a run when it happened. Folks
said she came down with a fever and, though they had worked
feverishly to save her, she suffered for three days, screaming
his name with her last breaths. He didn't believe he would ever
get that picture out of his brain and that he would die himself of
pain and anguish if he couldn't. He walked across the street and
into the saloon, and up to the bar. The bartender had just set his
whiskey down when he heard the doors slapping against each other.

A deep voice bellowed across the room. "Heard you're pretty good
with that rifle, old man !! I'm here to see about that !! "

The rifleman turned toward the voice. The gunslinger was well-known.
Death waited in his holster. It was the answer to a prayer, if he
had prayed.

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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2008 :  18:25:48  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
First the still hills, then the trecherous, switch-back trail, then the eerie brown cloud in the distance. "You'd never know there's the place up there what with them trees comin' down an' the devil's own wind blowin'. A wall of dust so thick you'd think...you left this ol' world behind..." "Hush, man!" from the stranger who hasn't uttered a word until now. His wide hat pulled low, his knuckles taught and whitening.
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1824 Posts

Posted - 01/26/2008 :  23:54:01  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
But, he hadn't. He hadn't prayed to die like this, at the hand
of a fame-seeking gunman . He was ready !! Anyone who ever knew
him knew that there were some men that he thought just needed killing.
One stood right in front of him, taunting him to make the first move.
Looking into the eyes of a murderous killer who killed for the fun
of it brought the rifleman back to a place he was familiar with.
He planted his feet and stood up at attention. The voice growled
again.

"I heard you were a BEAR with that rifle !!" the dead man said.

"Yeah, I'm a bear !! " He brought the rifle up to his hip.. he
never looked for trouble, but he wasn't afraid of it.


BGee


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