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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5424 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2008 :  19:21:28  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Once I lay on the bank with my eyes closed,
listening to the sound the water made,
and to the wind in the tops of the trees. The same wind
that blows out on the Strait, but a different wind, too.
For a while I even let myself imagine I had died --
and that was all right, at least for a couple
of minutes, until it really sank in: Dead.
As I way lying there with my eyes closed,
just after I'd imagined what it might be like
if in fact I never got up again, I thought of you.
I opened my eyes then and got right up
and went back to being happy again.
I'm grateful to you, you see.
I wanted to tell you.

Raymond Carver
(from "For Tess")
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1633 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2008 :  19:40:34  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Soooo... Dream and fly.
I'm holding your heart out of harm's way."

~Mickey Newbury~
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/16/2008 :  14:14:51  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
That first year married, we lived in a shack...

No kidding, a shack. Your garage is probably
bigger than this was. And it was for two families.
A deluxe shack.
But, at that point, both of us fresh off the road and
twenty years old, it was better than a cave, on a beach
or the parents basement.
We'd met on the road in California and
came back to NY to get married;
just for the Hell of it...
and alot of it was,
Hell, caused by both,
to be fair and generous to,
well, me...
But, there was a fair amount of Heaven, too,
those twenty years.

I'm sorry, DD, wherever you are,
for the shacks and the bad jobs and
mostly for you never getting to see me
all grown up,
finally...
[almost]
It's been a long road without you.

You know,
that first year married I don't think we ever slept...

~*~
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5424 Posts

Posted - 05/17/2008 :  00:05:24  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He said it doesn't look good
he said it looks bad in fact real bad
he said I counted thirty-two of them on one lung before
I quit counting them
I said I'm glad I wouldn't want to know
about any more being there than that
he said are you a religious man do you kneel down
in forest groves and let yourself ask for help
when you come to a waterfall
mist blowing against your face and arms
do you stop and ask for understanding at those moments
I said not yet but I intend to start today
he said I'm real sorry he said
I wish I had some other kind of news to give you
I said Amen and he said something else
I didn't catch and not knowing what else to do
and not wanting him to have to repeat it
and me to have to fully digest it
I just looked at him
for a minute and he looked back it was then
I jumped up and shook hands with this man who'd just given me
something no one else on earth had ever given me
I may have even thanked him, habit being so strong

Raymond Carver
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/17/2008 :  07:18:07  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Duke Ellington riding in the back of his limo,
somewhere in Indiana. He is reading by lamplight.
Billy Strayhorn is with him, but asleep.
The tires hiss on the pavement.
The Duke goes on reading and turning the pages.

-Carver

Edited by - buckman on 05/17/2008 07:18:37
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1633 Posts

Posted - 05/17/2008 :  13:01:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Cool summer nights.
Windows open.
Lamps burning.
Fruit in the bowl.
And your head on my shoulder.
These the happiest moments in the day.

Next to the early morning hours,
of course. And the time
just before lunch.
And the afternoon, and
early evening hours.
But I do love

these summer nights.
Even more, I think,
than those other times.
The work finished for the day.
And no one who can reach us now.
Or ever.

~Raymond Carver~

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/17/2008 :  16:37:09  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Nothing cuts thru the nite like a solitary saxophone...

Slicing the divide between truth and lies,
solitude and solitary
fact and fiction
frailty and strength.
Peeling back the layers
built up by the day & the world.

Leaving nothing but
you and the truth...

HB
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1633 Posts

Posted - 05/18/2008 :  17:31:36  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Magician moves to the foot of the stage. Sees the hopefuls in the front row lean closer. She knows it's his cracked-in-half laughter that saves them all. He tosses the Life Preserver into the crowd. Picks up the saw and steps forward. Her pins-and-needles sleeping limbs. Her wide-open unblinking eyes. "Pixels," the Magician offers, and begins sawing, "too close to the big picture to see."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1633 Posts

Posted - 05/18/2008 :  17:33:02  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Down the sand-blown road
The coast curves and glitters
Guard your heart, now, Lady
He cautions
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1633 Posts

Posted - 05/18/2008 :  17:34:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Two tin cans and a thousand miles of string."
Maybe a little more string now, Baby.
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3750 Posts

Posted - 05/18/2008 :  21:00:19  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
She threw a rock then hid her hands...

~ Craig
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1814 Posts

Posted - 05/23/2008 :  22:19:06  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Broken Toys"

Little broken hearts. "Such a pretty little face, with a heart
that's been torn .... Living in a borrowed space, from the moment
she was born . . How many tears she's cried, but never tears of
joy . . . Someone's taken a little girl and made a Broken Toy".

"Two sad little eyes, painted heartbreak blue .. the simplest of
his dreams.. never will come true ..someone elses pain fell on this
little boy . .. someone's taken a soldier, and made a Broken Toy"

"Broken Toys,.. for every one we break, a broken life takes its' place... that one day will break Toys of its' own . .Oh, Lord .. we have to mend these Broken Toys . . and let them be children again .. give back the innocence stolen from them..



These words are from a song that B.J. Thomas recorded. The video
is almost impossible to watch all the way through . . . but it
is worth the tears. This should be played on all of the radios
and televisions in the world all day and all night for just one day.
What am I saying ?? For just one minute to get some of the words in.
I'd settle for that.

BGee

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/24/2008 :  21:37:02  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Lemme see, it seems like the trailer was just outside of Washington, PA.

In a big, open field right next to the interstate.
We all piled thru the little door, snowcovered
shivering and laughing, falling all over each other.
We'd been out ramming snowbanks
with a VW bug, trying to get stuck and then
lifting it out when we finally did.
Anyway, the trailer didn't have much
but it did have a stereo and a recliner and a mirror.
I remember doing Crystal for the first time
and lying in that chair vibrating
to Emerson, Lake and Palmer's first album...

Sometimes you have to look back down the road
to see where you entered the tunnels...

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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5424 Posts

Posted - 05/30/2008 :  14:21:31  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Not for a moment,
beautiful aged Walt Whitman,
have I failed
to see your beard full
of butterflies.

Federico Garcia Lorca
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/31/2008 :  08:00:22  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
In that last moment of clarity,
just before sleep
when all the busy-ness and fear have gone,
one thought stayed to play me off to dreams or nightmares:

Raised from the dead...

God might be able to do the trick in three days...

The rest of us take a little longer.

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/31/2008 :  13:36:38  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I have perceived that to be with those I like is enough,
To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,
To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing,
laughing flesh is enough,
To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm
ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment-
what is this, then?
I do not ask any more delight-I swim in it, as in a sea.

There is something in staying close to men and women,
and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of
them, that pleases the soul well,
All things please the soul, but these please the soul well.

-Walt Whitman
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5424 Posts

Posted - 05/31/2008 :  18:03:20  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
GENESIS

With what meagre space
remaining between his hands
he tried to reconstruct
a universe: with a tear
he drew a star, a moon with a glance,
and with a single touch, a sun.
When he closed his eyes
people commuted to their work
on the sidewalk of his eyelids.

Wadih Sa'adeh
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/31/2008 :  21:11:16  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Dance, when you're broken open.
Dance, if you've torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of the fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you're perfectly free.

-Rumi
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 06/01/2008 :  05:20:48  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason,
you sing. For no reason, you accept
the way of being lost, cutting loose from
all else and electing a world
where you go where you want to.

Arbitrary, sound comes, a reminder
that a steady center is holding
all else. If you listen, that sound
will tell where it is, and you
can slide your way past trouble.

Certain twisted monsters
always bar the path-but that's when
you get going best, glad to be
lost, learning how real it is
here on earth, again and again."

-William Stafford
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5424 Posts

Posted - 06/01/2008 :  09:01:04  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
What she made in her body is broken.
Now she has begun to bear it again.
In the house of her son's death
his life is shining in the windows,
for she has elected to bear him again.
She did not bear him for death,
and she does not. She has taken back
into her body the seed, bitter
and joyous, of the life of a man.

In the house of the dead the windows shine
with life. She mourns, for his life was good.
She is not afraid. She is like a field
where the corn is planted, and like the rain
that waters the field, and like the young corn.
In her sorrow she renews life, in her grief
she prepares the return of joy.

She did not bear him for death, and she does not.
There was a life that went out of her to live
on its own, divided, and now she has taken it back.
She is alight with the sudden new life of death.
Perhaps it is the brightness of the dead one
being born again. Perhaps she is planting him,
like corn, in the living and in the earth.
She has taken back into her flesh
and made light, the dark seed of her pain.

Wendell Berry
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