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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/08/2008 :  05:56:52  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The thought came on suddenly one
morning, even though it had been
hanging around for awhile in the back room,
that to go on as you get older and
stay sane and sober or even just exist
outside of a padded cell,
that you must look at your past life
like it was somebody else's.
Or a treasured book or movie
that you go back to occasionally,
cause when it comes back to you
all at once it is too much to carry
if you're gonna make it.

The first wife at nineteen,
so young and unscarred still
laying on her back in Golden Gate park
listening to you read Rexroth,
then going to look for his house.
A book. Yeah, that's it.
Okay, twenty years, so it's a long book,
a Michener with lots of characters and intrigues
and tragedies, but surely someone eles's life.

And

The boy.
a grand movie, surely,
some in black and white, but
mostly in color,
with lots of baseball and football and
great music and a sad ending.

Carmelita,
Martina,
Melinda....

Must have been somebody else's life...

~*~



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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/09/2008 :  12:01:08  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There was a story in the San Francisco Chronicle
That of course I forgot to save
But it was about a lady who lived in the good ol' days
When a century was born
And a century had died
And about these good old days,
The old lady replied
"Why they was just a lot of people
Doin' the best they could
Just a lot of people
Doin' the best they could"
And then the lady said that they did it
Pretty up and walkin' good

-John Stewart
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/09/2008 :  16:28:53  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I woke up startled at 3 am
to the sound of acorns thundering
onto the roof like hail.
Scared and in that moment of not quite awake
I dialed her number in Florida
even though she'd been gone five years.
I woke enough with the first ring to hang up
but stared at the phone wondering
who had the number now and if
I had stayed on would they have talked me down.

It seems almost funny now...
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/12/2008 :  18:37:33  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Nightmare of darkness.
Moonlight glimpsed thru the single
slat of a wayward blind.
Barely understood visions,
the moment of a kiss,
baseball suspended in mid-air arc.
Running, always running without movement.
Dire fears of encroaching madness.

Morning just before full awakening...

~*~
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 11/13/2008 :  02:00:55  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Grania, good to see you here again.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5427 Posts

Posted - 11/14/2008 :  18:34:16  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
THE OTHER SIDE

Tonight I sing to you from the other side of the river,
strong currents between us and the bridges down.
The moon so heavy in her grief, she's broken the invisible
beams of the sky and hangs by one rusted cable, shining.

The indefatigable stars gather during the day, hidden softly
in the light, and speak of hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis.
They whisper about the rattling axis of the old earth, knowing
a lopsided ball leaves the game to the luck of the bounce.

The river has always separated us, the presence of wisdom
thwarted by concerns of the ego, your beliefs and mine
confused with the medicinal oils of our common spirit.
The traps of faith, for even the rebel conserves his ideals.

I hear the stars. Their voices come out of that high harmony
that we rarely risk, their genius never inclined to separation
from the whole sky. What part of us has slept so long and deeply
that we forget how to share the duty of our brilliant design?

Our story was made with nights like this in mind, the danger
visited by our death, the caring and the not caring, how they
hold hands. I sing to you, asking you to meet me in the water,
to risk drowning for one jubilant kiss.

DL
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1728 Posts

Posted - 11/15/2008 :  18:40:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Flash of white lightning
Son you're born into
Only the in-between's
What matters
Say, you think it's gonna rain?
It's gonna rain for sure
One word
And that word is
No

Mickey Newbury
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/15/2008 :  19:04:07  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Forest Service road is about 500
ft above the river on the south side.
It is very strange in this somewhat wild
area that there are occasional curbs on
the river side covered with green moss.

An occasional pickup stops but for the moment,
he prefers to walk. The sound of a boat drones
from below and some still carry the mail upriver.
This area of Oregon is a fisherman's dream and it's
easy to imagine Zane Grey in the 20's and Clark
Gable in the 40's casting for trout and steelhead.

The road has a broad canopy of unbroken growth. There
are alders with their Dalmation trunks on either side
along with firs that may go back thousands of years.
Ferns are everywhere. You can see and hear hawks with
their cries bouncing off the canyon. The time goes by,
neither fast nor slow. He has willed it that way;
fast enough to race the pain, slow enough to caress
her memory.

He thinks if he ever quits smoking, the thing he would
miss the most would be the actions that go along with it;
tapping the end, flicking the lighter as you cupped
your hands, and that first reflective drag as part
of your mind drifts with the smoke. He leaned against
a tall pine, looked down at the flowing majesty
and thought...it's really harder to cry
when you're smoking.

[Ron LyonHeart]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edited by - Ron L. on 10/29/2004 10:26:22

Edited by - buckman on 11/15/2008 19:04:49
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/22/2008 :  09:12:18  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I saw the deer from the corner of my mind,
listening to Dar Williams and thinking of Melinda.
She came out of the woods to my left,
big and moving fast,
trying to beat me across the road.
Where the woods that come down off
High Tor mountain are interupted by
South Mountain road, time hiccuped
for the two of us.
The next five seconds took about an hour;
as I swerved right, the doe hit my left fender,
made a sound I remembered from 1992,
slid onto the hood, face a foot from mine
on the windshield, tongue out,
eyes aflame, meeting mine, questioning
and then gone up and onto the roof and behind me.
She scampered [may be the wrong word]
into the woods dragging a leg or two.
I continued, shook, but whole,
never to know how the rest of the day unfolded
for the deer whose world met mine...

I saw the deer from the corner of my mind...

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bobaz
Sitter

United Kingdom
50 Posts

Posted - 11/22/2008 :  16:33:39  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Click to see bobaz's MSN Messenger address  Send bobaz a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I " ,,

Bobby Blueboy @ Home

Edited by - bobaz on 11/23/2008 16:00:01
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/23/2008 :  06:25:38  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I hold him to me, as a man, as a friend
And feel his frailness and his strength, both...
I ask him to stay and
He laughs and says,
Didn't you know?
It's forever for those like us,
Just forever.............

ForEver, Roy, Thank you....

Rev Buckman
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Susie G
Swinger

USA
729 Posts

Posted - 11/23/2008 :  20:34:26  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Susie G an AOL message  Send Susie G an ICQ Message  Click to see Susie G's MSN Messenger address  Send Susie G a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Thank you Rev. love ya
Susie g
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/27/2008 :  04:42:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ralph [[ the Hudson River BiPolar bear]] was downstairs
dancing to Ray Charles singing Eleanor Rigby
and watching dirty movies on cable...
I said Ralphie, what are you thankful for?
He said, [[ Um, Jameson's, Ray Charles and, uh, dirty movies...]]
Wow, I said, you really have a small window you look out of, don't you?

Rev Buckman was sitting out back just staring at the woods...
I said, Rev, how about you?
He said, between God the Devil and you,
evrything I have ever loved has been taken from me...
The baby, the women.... The pills...
Just what I gotta be thankful for?
I said, You are lucky that I don't kill you,
you can be thankful for that, okay, curmudgeon?

I said, Guys.... Today is the day when some Americans
go to the storeroom of their souls and take an inventory
and appreciate what they have that many, many others do not...
I said, it's a tradition and it's one of those things that
let's us stop for a minute and look back and look ahead
and kind of put a pin in the map that says, You Are Here...

Then I thanked the Gods
[that I sometimes talked to and sometimes even talked to me]
just for being alive,Newbury's music, a few good friends
and staying sober ...
That's it.
They know the rest, that's why they got the job as Gods.....

Besides, everything else is just gravy...

~*~


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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 11/29/2008 :  05:32:29  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Shirley Lau collected the rent once a month.
Shirley Lau shrieked once a month
[to my knowledge; I don't know where else
she might have shrieked]
"You no good tenants, YOU MOVE TAMARA!!"
She never liked when we painted walls purple or that she
had originally rented to four law students and
now it was a hippie commune.
Well, we tried. It was really just a flat with three bedrooms.
a glassed porch and a common kitchen and bathroom.
One student was still there and a waitress, her married
sister and husband who ran a newststand and then,
on the first time around, me.
[There were two times around, but that's another story.]
This was at 2640 McAllister in SF around the corner
from The Airplane/Dead/Quicksilver house and
two blocks from Golden Gate Park.
I found the ad on the Haight bulletin board
and scapped it up. Wow, fifty dollars a month
for a porch. Got a door to cover the doublewide sink,
a mattress from the mission store and I was set.

Watching the tops of the GG bridge blinking
thru the fog. writing on my door on long, yellow legal pads
with a lone candle giving me light and heat...

The yellow paper's are all gone now;
all that remains are
the memories of Shirley Lau shrieking.
"You no good tenants, YOU MOVE TAMARA!!"



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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/06/2008 :  19:27:29  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I've been crazy for forty two years now.

Even remember when it first came on,
like a breeze that made me put my collar up
and huddle into my coat.
It was a Friday night in Nyack, 1966,
in front of the St George Hotel on Burd Street.
Sitting in a car with friends, drinking a beer.
The world didn't shake and the radio didn't stop playing,
but I knew part of me had slipped into something new,
different and scary and it wasn't just the one of me
anymore.

People say, You've always had a job.
People say, You raised a family [sort of].
People don't know.
Most of them.

After awhile, you can get good at anything,
even madness.
It just takes practice....
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/07/2008 :  08:32:23  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I saw a house in Nevada
built in 1906 from discarded beer bottles
mixed with adobe.
The bottoms were facing out and
the interior was filled with a
strange green glow streaming
thru the necks.
I thought,
If he had used Jameson's bottles
like I did
it would have been done quicker
but then again it probly would
never have been finished.

Edited by - buckman on 12/07/2008 08:47:35
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/12/2008 :  19:36:43  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Breaks my heart to see her
With her heart back on the run
She'd gotten used to thinking
He might somehow be the one.
Midnight trains are passing by
The fears won't go away
Looks like another lonely night
After another lonesome day.

Another day spent wishing
That the minutes weren't so long
Another night spent list'ning
To music that sounds all wrong
Angels on her doorstep
They don't come in any more
She didn't even notice
When he left she locked the door

Full moon rising thru the clouds
Like a teardrop in the sky
The only time that's wasted
Is the time spent wondring why
Crossroads coming up ahead
No reason to make a turn
Evry mile's a good one
While there's something left to learn
Evry mile's a good one
While there's something left to learn

Another day spent wishing
That the minutes weren't so long
Another night spent list'ning
To music that sounds all wrong
Angels on her doorstep
They don't come in any more
She didn't even notice
When he left she locked the door

Hank Beukema - revbuckman music - 2008








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BarbraG
Windchimer

1820 Posts

Posted - 12/13/2008 :  01:08:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Wow! So wonderful, Hank. Wish I could write
like you sometimes. I love some of the things I
write, but loving someone's elses work is better,
I think.

How are you ? Inquiring minds want to know.

Take care and stay warm up there. Florida is wide
open if you get too cold. For the last couple of
weeks, though, you have to go further South than
Lake City to find some consistently warm days AND
nights. I enjoy the cold, but not the colds. I
happen to have one at this time.

BGee
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/14/2008 :  10:32:47  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
He told the boy it was time.

They got in the Chevy and
went to the empty parking lot
between Rockland Lake and Hook Mountain.
He got out and told the boy to drive.
It was the first time and he was nervous.
He told him there was nothing to hit and
nothing to go wrong, just give it a little,
play around, get the feel of the machine.
The boy accelerated over the empty blacktop
across the parking lines for awhile,
then turned the wheel right and
made a big circle as they laughed and laughed and
slapped each other on the back while the
blue of Rockland Lake kept passing by...

It was the best of times.

A few months and a half mile up the road
they would both disappear into the night.....
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2701 Posts

Posted - 12/14/2008 :  11:17:08  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"DEBORAH

It's not that I was thinking of the
hopelessness of my situation or of how much I miss my life,
I don't know what I was thinking but it really didn't seem
to have anything to do with my crying, I just
suddenly started to cry. Perhaps my loneliness just then got to
the point of no return: I cannot keep this up. Anyway walking in the
gray hall with my walker I suddenly started to cry. Tears flowed and
sobs shook me as I walked and then I quieted down a bit and
soon I was telling people, "I don't know why but I just can't
stop crying," and then after a while I wasn't
crying any more. Then I ate but
eating's not the same any more, it isn't
enjoyable, it's just
a way to pass the time. I'll never
get my life back; it's gone; not that I'm dead but that I'm
unable to be in charge of myself. But the worst was when I
said to Deborah, the medicine nurse "Thank you for
being so nice to me," and she
turned away as if annoyed to hear this message. I
wonder what it is about it that she rejects. She is, though,
very nice to me and careful with my medicine and
I love her so much I could just
cry."

Written by FrancEyE, Southern Cal writer and friend
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