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Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 11/03/2008 :  19:48:31  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Love to you, Reverend B.
I'll bet it's beautiful in the Hudson Valley now.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1613 Posts

Posted - 11/03/2008 :  19:55:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The Tattooed Lady

Around the smallpox vaccination scar
I'd hated since I was a little girl
I had him put this daisy, then its stem
because the flowers looked too spidery
without a stem, and then these little leaves.
He said to think of it as just a gift
for a pretty girl. I went to him that night
because my arm was swollen, and I stayed
for twenty years. Around the daisy's stem
he slowly wound a snake that circled me
with swirls of trailer camps and cheap hotels
and sideshows, yet I loved the masterpiece
that I became to him. His touch had touched
me everywhere. His love is here to see.

Ted Kooser
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BarbraG
Windchimer

1812 Posts

Posted - 11/05/2008 :  00:34:07  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
And, now my children are in different hands than America
has known before. These hands are half white and half black.
I hope these hands will represent the best half of both the
white man and the black man, and the white man and the red man.
Life doesn't have to be a racial thing. It wasn't for me when
I was growing up in the Army. All children played together.
We Army children didn't care what color our best friend was.
Our dads marched along side by side with all races, and were
trained to cover each other's backs. Wow !!! There can be no
greater faith than to trust another with your life.

Today is that today that we spoke of yesterday. It is finally
here. From the second floor of a hotel with a black man lying
fatally shot on a balcony in 1968.. to the events of today ....
it is time. The time has come for all Americans to live and
dream and fight side by side for the sake of our children. We
will put aside our horrible treatment of each other and teach our
children that we were wrong in teaching them the same thing.
We will !!! We will overcome !!! Maybe, we have.

BGee
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Jackie
Windchimer

Austria
2056 Posts

Posted - 11/05/2008 :  03:43:35  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Amen.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5422 Posts

Posted - 11/06/2008 :  14:05:05  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
MAKING A FIST

For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.

"How do you know if you are going to die?"
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
"When you can no longer make a fist."

Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand.

Naomi Shihab Nye
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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
5422 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
5422 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

1613 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
728 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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