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Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
 Posted - 09/09/2010 : 18:35:42
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Saturday as I drove by, I saw a vaquero riding his horse...inside of an icehouse.
A few weeks ago I saw a clown...driving a car and talking on his mobile phone.
Many things I see are real but make no sense.
I can't see, touch, or hear pain.
I can only feel it...but it is real.
Craig |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 09/14/2010 : 08:09:13
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I went to Tennessee last week; my Grandmother had died.
I saw many relatives; some of them I'd not seen for fifeen or twenty years...or more.
We spent some wonderful time together; they have gotten very old. Very few of them had seen my two-year old daughter; she's beautiful; they say she looks like me when I was a child.
I have wonderful family; I am 57. |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4925 Posts |
Posted - 09/14/2010 : 15:09:49
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Today, I went to lunch with ladies I've known since Kindergarten. Two others I've know through church and highschool. It was a fun day catching up.
Karen Runk |
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 09/14/2010 : 19:43:29
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Today, I had an epidural ... for a herniated disc ..
Just sayin' ..
BGee |
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 09/14/2010 : 19:48:16
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Murdered !! He was in the seedy part of town, someone said, and
what was he doing there, asked someone else. Bludgeoned with a
crowbar. Wallet and car stolen .. It was announced on the radio
that an unidentified body had been found, and if anyone knew ....
A man called and said that the dead man might be his friend. He was.
But, what was he doing there ? |
Edited by - BarbraG on 09/14/2010 19:50:50 |
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 09/20/2010 : 22:05:51
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That had to hurt !!! Definitely !! Definitely had to hurt.
BGee |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 09/22/2010 : 04:32:52
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Stimulating conversations
Rare revealing revelations
We had a love to share
Were we the perfect pair?
I had my schizophrenic views  
She had her own bipolar moods  
Time passed; and as our love doubled
The four of us made the perfect couple
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 09/23/2010 : 07:22:09
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Gunsmoke and Horses_ _t.
He was in the bar when the shooting started. Everyone asked what was going on; he didn’t have to.
He decided it was time to quit drinking. Funny; he was quitting for the same reason he started.
He said a prayer for the first time in 9 years and walked out the door and fell in step with his Father; walking towards four men that neither of them had ever seen before; they just kept coming. One after one after one, they joined each other in hell.
He hadn’t spoken to his Father….in 9 years. They looked at each other and nodded...then looked towards the men...some would enter eternity today.
A verse from Isaiah entered his head; the voice of God:
"I have sworn.
my mouth has uttered in all integrity
a word that will not be revoked:
Every knee will bow, every tongue will confess".
He thought that that confession would come too late for those men facing them.
“Let’s get to it, son”
“’K, Dad.” He didn’t choke on the word like he thought he would.
“I’ll go from left to right…you start with the ugly one”.
Without taking his eyes off the men in front of them, his Father said, "They're all ugly". |
Edited by - rodeo on 09/26/2010 18:08:34 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 09/25/2010 : 15:55:14
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Great stuff Rodeo |
Edited by - buckman on 09/26/2010 19:15:27 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 09/25/2010 : 15:59:02
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There was never a time laying next to her
That my soul did not feel blessed.
Hearts on fire don't burn on forever,
Passion and madness need rest.
Nights filled with magic, days on the run
Angels would look down and sigh.
Was there a moment, a change in her eyes
When forever turned into goodbye?
[I go down to the river,
and listen for the train.
But, all I hear is my own voice,
no mercy from the rain.
The angels have all left us now,
they took away my chance,
To hold you close just one more time
And whisper while we dance...]
There was never a good time to tell her,
I had too little heart left to share
I'd lost it on the road one night
Some days I still almost cared.
Tho' what's been lost and what's been gained
Still screams my name at night,
The morning's not so far away,
Keep dancing toward the light.
There was never the time to remember
Redemption begins on your knees.
It was always too much to ask of my wants
To think of another's needs.
And the nights got much longer,
the years grew more selfish,
the mirror never held a friend.
Yesterday's sorrow, tomorrow's promise
Do broken hearts ever mend?
[I go down to the river,
and listen for the train.
But, all I hear is my own voice,
no mercy from the rain.
The angels have all left us now,
they took away my chance,
To hold you close just one more time
And whisper while we dance...]
There was never a time laying next to her
That my soul did not feel blessed.
Hearts on fire don't burn on forever,
Passion and madness need rest.
Nights filled with magic, days on the run
Angels would look down and sigh.
Was there a moment, a change in her eyes
When forever turned into goodbye?
Hank Beukema revbuckmanmusic 2010 |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 09/25/2010 : 20:40:26
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BODY & SOUL
So this is how the separation begins, the body no longer
a friendly host, calling out from its sleep with annoyance when
the soul comes in late, intoxicated, nudging tender places.
Where before there was rhapsody, the shoulder turned open,
now the body closes. Its dreams become exclusive, preferring
sleep to the touch that makes the blood sing up.
The union we have with our flesh is not permanent,
that essential trust not inviolable. The glowing soul may strut
while the body's fingers tremble, the urge to dance assaulting
joints which have lost their oil. In the dark, the soul is awake,
attuned to the growing distance, wheels on rain-wet roads,
sad for the first time again.
DL |
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San Diego
Swinger
509 Posts |
Posted - 09/25/2010 : 21:14:48
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| This is amazing. |
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Joe Z
Windchimer
USA
1819 Posts |
Posted - 09/27/2010 : 14:38:01
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That “eye for an eye” stuff in the Old Book is an easy sale. On a planet where paranoia roots itself like Southern California sticker patch, I-Me-Mine is quite literally a no brainer.
Personification of money is the illusion, while what matters most gets lost in the glitter. Where to draw the line is the debate, but when gold rules, the Golden Rule takes a rear seat.
Balance is the trick. We plunder for years and then apologize with tears. Winds from the south take the apology as Karma blows in from the west. When the two winds meet, a tornado forms.
Perpetual emotion.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2196 Posts |
Posted - 09/27/2010 : 18:29:07
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Well, Henry... Six years you've kept the saloon open. I remember the first time you swung through those batwing doors. It was twilight. The sun was setting. I was sweeping the dirt into a pile by the door, watching the canyon catch fire. The place had been boarded up for a couple of years, but the slap of the cards, the rap of the glasses, the keening sound of that spectral dog remained in the air. And the haloed light over the card table. And Juarez in his singular chair. His voice split by divination...his cracked-in-half laughter...his well-worn wings...
I remember all the lives, old friend. To days gone by. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 09/27/2010 : 18:44:13
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Ahhh.
The room goes on |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 09/27/2010 : 21:20:58
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"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
-e.a. poe |
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BarbraG
Windchimer
1825 Posts |
Posted - 10/05/2010 : 20:02:58
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Sunlight radiates through the curtains as I write this on this cold October afternoon. The warmth of Summer has left suddenly, without warning. That's what suddenly is. No warning. But, that's okay for now. I can live with it. Missie's coat has grown in some since her last grooming...a sure sign of autumn leaves beginning to turn, with the winds whistling through the trees. Nature prepares her for the cold winds that blow, while I have to run for my coat. But, I love the changes that autumn brings. The beauty of it all is breathtaking at times, as I wait for the snows of Winter. And, before I know it..in just a few months..Newbury's words will come to mind when "Winter's in labor and soon will give birth to the Spring." Nature -- the wonder of it all.
BGee |
Edited by - BarbraG on 10/05/2010 20:07:17 |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/11/2010 : 04:14:36
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quote:
Originally posted by Joe Z
That “eye for an eye” stuff in the Old Book is an easy sale. On a planet where paranoia roots itself like Southern California sticker patch, I-Me-Mine is quite literally a no brainer.
Personification of money is the illusion, while what matters most gets lost in the glitter. Where to draw the line is the debate, but when gold rules, the Golden Rule takes a rear seat.
Balance is the trick. We plunder for years and then apologize with tears. Winds from the south take the apology as Karma blows in from the west. When the two winds meet, a tornado forms.
Perpetual emotion.
Politicos push a new approach to the same old problems using tired-ass clichés.
Leaders sin, and sinners lead, and we’re caught in between.
Preachers preach the “flavor of the week” … promise to help us find self esteem...self worth...self fulfillment...have they forgotten something?
While our children's teachers manage to blur the lines that we try to draw for them; the school board has multiple meetings to decide not to pray or play the national anthem at football games anymore.
We got in trouble for shooting rubber bands at girls; an 11 year old took a gun to my nephew's school today. His father and his older brother are in prison. His mom is a crack-head.
Oprah's guest has a solution...a secret. It's in his book. $24.95.
Weapons of mass discussion.
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Edited by - rodeo on 10/11/2010 05:13:56 |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 10/18/2010 : 22:39:57
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Ballpeen hammer moon on a summer night in Anaconda, Montana, local
heroes playing baseball under the lights against a team from the
next town over. We're up in the peel-paint wooden bleachers behind
home plate watching booze bottles pass hand to hand in the rows
below, wives with hair bundled up under ball caps jabbering, husbands
in t-shirts laughing-near-choking with trays of fries and nachos
balanced on their laps. The visiting team is kicking the crap out of
the local boys, up by eight runs in the top of the ninth when a kid
comes in to pitch relief for Anaconda, burly tattooed righthander with
a sneer of a smile that says the game isn't over just yet. His first
fastball cracks the helmet of the leadoff hitter who goes down like a
shot horse and the crowd goes silent. The visitors' dugout empties,
then the home team's, and while a retired doctor limps out to attend
to the fallen player the others start shoving at one another, sending
firecracker f-bombs into the night sky. The umpires can't do anything
but take notes. The plate umpire has the batting helmet in his hand
and while watching the boys pull at jersey tops and swear at each
other, the ump pulls the helmet apart with his big hands. The fallen
player sits up, the doctor talking to him, eyes peering over the top
of his spectacles, and before any punches are thrown the coaches
corral their players and start guiding them back to their dugouts.
The visitors tack on another run and lead by nine going to the last
half inning. With two out and nobody on, the burly righthander comes
to bat and the pitcher fires a fastball three feet behind his back.
Rinse and repeat. The batter races to the mound and the pitcher, ready
for him, kicks him in the crotch for starters. They're on the ground
wrestling, hats flown off, testosterone fierce as teammates race out
again, blocking our view. The two managers are soon chest to chest,
poking fingers into each other, their faces reddening, voices going
hoarse from righteous emotion. Done our dogs except for the mustard
in Billy's moustache we leave the ball park quietly before the field
is cleared and walk two blocks to the JFK bar, where a bear-sized man
wearing a shirt with the left chest pocket torn open is telling a
story about his days at the copper smelter, saying they'd come out of
there on a Friday after work with hell in their eyes. The black soot
was poisonous and a lot of his buddies died early from breathing it,
and the graveyard up the hill is full of headstones with birth and
death dates too damned close together. The smelter has been closed a
while now, smokestack still on the hill as a reminder, largest in the
world at one time. Jack Nicklaus designed the local golf course and
instead of sand they filled the bunkers with that same black soot.
Billy's got his maps out and he's asking a woman at the next table
about the back road unpaved mountain route we're planning to take in
the morning through to Idaho. I wouldn't dare drive that road, she
says, it's too dangerous, one lane wide and no railing between you
and the canyon below. Billy turns to me with that outlaw grin of his
and says, that's the one for us then. |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/21/2010 : 16:56:55
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Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
---poe (the real one)
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The Nightly Vigil