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Ailinn
Windchimer

1591 Posts

Posted - 04/27/2008 :  16:10:41  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Sunday, April 27th. 101 degrees with Santa Ana's curling the leaves on the trees and scritch-scratching at the windows. We are not allowed in the water because of local horror. Dave Martin, brought out of the water dead. How do you explain this 17 foot nightmare to the kids? Or fires raging in Pasadena in April, not December? The chaotic world fills with your absence. No one to bless the blood in California. (Cal...i...FOR...nia, you used to say so slowly.) How you loved San Francisco. But you loved San Diego more. Only you can make sense of Stephan Miller and Dave Martin. Bears in Big Bear Lake. Great whites off Solana. Because you understand the potency of stories. How they can save us. So save us.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1591 Posts

Posted - 04/27/2008 :  16:24:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
These are the last few lines from one of the many songs Mick was working on in September 2002.

"If it hurts this much to see you leavin'
What will it do to me to see you gone?
Better by far you should forget and smile
Then remember and be sad."

The last two lines are borrowed from one of Mick's favorite poems by Christina Rossetti.

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to consel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

~Christina Rossetti~


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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/29/2008 :  18:58:52  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Crackiln Rosie Saved My Life...

It wasn't that I really wanted to die,
It was just that I didn't care a whole lot about living anymore.

It was February in San Francisco and it seemed
like it had been raining for weeks.
I'd cut my foot jumping off a cliff at Big Sur,
had a fight with a girl, couldn't get rides
and by the time I got back to the City
I was wet, cold, hurt and feeling
sorry for myself and alone.
I didn't even go back to McAllister Street,
I just got a big bottle of Gallo Rose
and laid down on the beach next to
the Pacific Coast Highway.
When I was thinking at all, there was a stray
notion that if I just got drunk enough and
laid there long enough, the tide would come in
and I wouldn't have to decide anything,
just kinda drift on out to sea...

Somebody had parked a VW Bug just behind me and
they were playing the radio loud;
it was Neil Diamond singing Cracklin Rosie.
I remembered a friend telling me that
it was a song about some Eskimos getting drunk on
cheap rose wine and pretending they had a woman
and I looked at my Gallo and
just started laughing
then crying
then laughing
some more until I was doing both at once...
I figured it was the Old Man trying to tell me something,
so
I got up, brushed myself off, walked by the Bug,
yelled Thanks to the couple somewhere inside the smoke
and I walked back home to McAllister and the rest of my life...

Hell, I still don't know if the story about the song was true...

But this one is...
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1802 Posts

Posted - 04/29/2008 :  19:48:36  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Dear Hank,
Go ahead and tell Roy you'll be there at the Gathering this
year. A'right? A'right, then. If you just go ahead and TELL
him, then you might get a hungerin' notion to go, and you just
might end up there. Sounds like lots and lots of folks would be
so happy to see that happen, most of all -- you....? Just
think of all the hugs waitin' for ya !!! (Love your words !! )

BGee
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 04/30/2008 :  15:38:04  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
This is the wallpaper in Cleveland in 1954
This is an October Sunday at Yankee Stadium in 1976

This is everything you wished I was and everything I wished I wasn't
This is too hot to handle and too much to bare
This is all I held back that you needed
This is the love of a lifetime passing in the street

This is the letters I meant to write
This is all the I'm sorrys we don't get to say
This is an aching deep inside from need
This is vanilla spice candles and the smell of cinnamon

This is tangible evidence of insanity
This is dancing crazy alone without being drunk
This is the poets trying to keep from drowning
This is the soldier who wonders why

This is seeing God in a woman's eyes and looking for it again forever
This is losing everything and starting over
This is what it's come down to
This is playing music and hearing the crowd applauding

This is perfect sex
This is postcoital postpartum postnasal depression
This is the off the beaten path without a paddle
This is the side of the road with no destination

This is vanilla chocolate and strawberry
This is going to the grocery store hungry
This is running with the scissors
This is tipping your cap to Don Quixote
This is waiting for the Rapture in a black suit

This is most of what you needed and a little of what you wanted
This is all you thought it would be
This is what you made it...


Yeah,

That's what This is...

Hank Beukema - 2008




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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 05/03/2008 :  22:20:07  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
DO NOT BE ASHAMED

You will be walking some night
in the comfortable dark of your yard
and suddenly a great light will shine
round about you, and behind you
will be a wall you never saw before.
It will be clear to you suddenly
that you were about to escape,
and that you are guilty; you misread
complex instructions, and you are not
a member, you lost your card
or never had one. And you will know
that they have been there all along,
their eyes on your letters and books,
their hands in your pockets,
their ears wired to your bed.
Though you have done nothing shameful,
they will want you to be ashamed.
They will want you to kneel and weep
and say you should have been like them.
And once you say you are ashamed,
reading the page they hold out to you,
then such light as you have made
in your history will leave you.
They will no longer need to pursue you.
You will pursue them, begging forgiveness.
They will not forgive you.
There is no power against them.
It is only candor that is aloof from them,
only an inward clarity, unashamed,
that they cannot reach. Be ready.
When their light has picked you out
and their questions are asked, say to them:
"I am not ashamed." A sure horizon
will come around you. The heron will begin
his evening flight from the hilltop.

Wendell Berry
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/04/2008 :  17:58:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
In the middle of the road of my life
I awoke in the dark wood
where the straight road was lost.

--Dante
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/04/2008 :  19:57:12  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Crossing America in five days hitchhiking was a big deal to me...

We used to have a question when you'd meet another hitcher-
How far'd you walk today?
That trip was no walking, it was three rides in three days and then
came the east. Took two days to get thru
Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
Thing was it was all backwards, sometimes.
The places you thought you'd get rides,
you didn't, and the places you thought you'd
never get picked up, you usually met some
nice folks and even got a meal or a room.
I did it in five days another time, but it
never counted with me cause I had a car.
It was somebody else's that I didn't know and
yeah, I drove all the way, straight thru myself,
but, I still had a car, and a girl.

The best was the six week crossing...
You get to See America that way;
not like a tourist, but from the underside up,
up the legs and across the belly,
feeling the muscle and the fat,
the back roads and the seldom scenes,
the single school teachers in Illinois bored enough to
pick up a stranger, the small town kids in Utah that think
you're something out of television or movies,
the families in Okie station wagons that take you home
for a bath and a meal and a warm bed.
The rotting side of the cities that only the trains see
and the waves of grain that go on for days.
I think sometimes that
the rivers and the beaches and the highways were my college,
and the hobos and the wise guys and the kind strangers of America
were my teachers...

I'm still working on that diploma...

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/04/2008 :  20:26:43  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Small flashes of life
interspersed between long periods of
just breathing make up our days...
As time goes on, as we grow older and older,
the flashes move together in our memories
like one long tapestry, all as one piece...
We learn, we prepare, we nourish ourselves
for and from these flashes...

Everything else is just breathing...

Hank Beukema - 2006
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3744 Posts

Posted - 05/04/2008 :  20:45:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
As we approach the latter years, we have reflections. Reflections of our lives, reflections of times past, reflections of ourselves...

These are the best times of our lives.

Craig
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1802 Posts

Posted - 05/08/2008 :  22:51:49  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Her footprints were heavy in the sand as she walked out
to the ocean's waves rolling in from thousands of miles away.
Just to dip her toes in the water connected her somehow to
those faraway lands, unknown to her, but still there. Almost
out of her mind with excitement, her Golden Retriever romped
and splashed, always looking back at her to make sure she was
still there. Her world would be truly lonely without this
wonderful creature that she called Goldie. She looked back
toward the house and stopped. A car was pulling into the
driveway. She wasn't expecting anyone. Goldie sprinted toward
the house like a young filly. "GOLDIE !! STOP !! ... GOLDIE !! "

BarbraG
AKA BGee

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/09/2008 :  19:40:19  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
.


Edited by - buckman on 05/16/2008 14:14:27
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 05/09/2008 :  20:50:20  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
HELLO?

After hours, entering a space he only knows by day.
The lock opening louder than before.

He punches in the code to stifle the alarm, hoping
it works. Otherwise, the police will come and he will
be nervous explaining.

When he flicks the switch upward, the light comes
on suddenly, fully, and he squints, raising
one arm to shield his eyes.

Where eight hours earlier there was a cacaphony
of workplace sounds, now there is silence
and the click of his shoes on the tiled floor.

He stands there, peering at the photographs
of co-workers who have died. They look right at him,
their smiles still alive. He touches their faces.

A different scent here at night. The Mexican family
has done its cleaning, and he smells the wax
they have put on the cafeteria floor.

He is startled when the phone rings, uncertain
whether to answer. The message machine comes on.
A woman's voice, Indian in cadence, says hello.

Hello?

He wonders if it is the wife he's never found,
if she has tracked him down at last this Friday night
here on the coast. Hello? she asks again.

As he goes to pick up the phone there is a dial tone.
The machine clicks off. No name, no number,
just that round, sincere question. Like a small bell.

He reaches in his coat pocket for the flask, takes
a drink and turns on the radio in the manager's office,
finds the late night jazz program on CBC.

It's an old Bill Evans number, Peace Piece.
Solo piano. He turns out all the lights, sits back
in the manager's big chair, feet on the desk.

Bill plays the piano shyly, as if touching a girl's
hands for the first time. As if the sensation has taken
all language from him except for touch.

There is a darling soul that waits in each of us,
waits for a moment to come like a hand
to touch our cheek, say small important things.

It is a hand that already knows the imperfect
places, the scar, the fallen fruit. It touches us with
a knowing, and we breathe toward our tears.

Hello?

It is almost two in the morning when he wakes up.
Radio Sweden has taken over the CBC. He presses
the button to hear her voice one more time.

DL
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/10/2008 :  07:02:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Visiting Cloud Peak with Priest Tenge in Fall

Human existence in this world:
Duckweed cast adrift on the water.
Who can ever feel secure?
That is the reason
I took up a monk's staff, left my parents,
And bade farewell to my friends.
A single patched robe
And one bowl have sustained me all these years.
I'm fond of this little hut
And often spend time here-
We are two kindred spirits,
Never worrying about who is guest or host.
The wind blows through lofty pines,
Frost chills the few mums that remain.
Arm in arm we stand above the clouds;
Bound as one, roaming in the far beyond.

-Ryokan (1758-1831)

-"Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf"
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 05/10/2008 :  07:53:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
We had a plan.

We were going to catch up for the first time
since we'd been together.
Took a three year bank loan,
invested in some coke,
alot of coke.
The plan was to step on it, sell it,
pay our bills,
catch up,
get out from under,
start again.

We sat at that table for a long time,
hours, days,
back and forth to the bedroom,
then back to the white mountain
on the table.
In a week it was gone.
The loan lived on for the three years.

Make The Gods laugh.

Make a plan...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1591 Posts

Posted - 05/11/2008 :  18:27:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"You are broken only if you break."

~Mickey Newbury~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1591 Posts

Posted - 05/11/2008 :  18:33:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A snub of candle between them when he turned the hour glass upside down. His long shadow already in crisis. His cherished face, harrowed, but not distraught. "Tell me a story," he said, "make it last the night." Time passed. A century or three. The power on Cielo Azul flickered but never went out. They looked up at the sizzling stars. The squadrons of Angels, the legions of Saints. "Listen," he said, "sometimes I get tired of flying above the clouds and I look for a warm corner to lie down in. The dreamsleep is as much a miracle as the flight."
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2008 :  15:13:16  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
LATE FRAGMENT

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

Raymond Carver
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1591 Posts

Posted - 05/15/2008 :  18:51:52  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"It wasn't for music
you came to me, but
for daring - mine
and yours."

~Tess Gallagher~
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5421 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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