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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
 Posted - 10/21/2010 : 17:06:06
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"The wisdom of the Sage;
Burnt edges around all his words"
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Edited by - rodeo on 10/22/2010 07:14:56 |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 10/22/2010 : 09:32:22
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I believe...
that imagination is stronger than knowledge
That myth is more potent than history
That dreams are more powerful than facts
That hope always triumphs over experience
That laughter is the only cure for grief
And I believe that love is stronger than death
~Mickey Newbury~
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Edited by - rodeo on 10/22/2010 14:29:59 |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 11/01/2010 : 17:32:27
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You come here without calling ahead.
No one else does that.
If your shirt has one or two buttons open,
I know something troubles you,
that you want to talk.
You remember a shack near the border
where birds, high winds and old
stones are the calendar.
You whisper of death, of how
close to it we are, how alive
its presence keeps us.
If a third button is open,
there's nothing to say.
DL |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 11/01/2010 : 18:02:20
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I miss front to back to front again
just to prove we could.
I miss the smell of a dream of a memory,
in the backyard burning wood.
I miss most evrything the law allows
and in between the lines,
She was too much in this world
I was too much in this time.
She said, Things can't continue long this way.
I said, Little by little they don't.
There's so many things I've never done
But not too many that I won't.
The valley runs red and gold again
Winter's right around the bend
Blue blue skies and cold cold nights
Hearts and souls need time to mend.
A coyote sings Harvest Moon in the
woods beyond the yard,
I hum along with the melody
the words come too damn hard.
I climbed the ladder the best I could,
I slipped on the last rung.
Her memory's left the back of my mind
And gone to the tip of my tongue.
I miss most evrything the law allows
and in between the lines,
She was too much in this world
I was too much in this time.
The valley runs red and gold again
Winter's right around the bend
Blue blue skies and cold cold nights
Hearts and souls need time to mend.
Hank Beukema revbuckmanmusic 2010
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 11/02/2010 : 01:25:46
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I REMEMBER WAKING
I remember waking at the loneliest hour of the night,
lighting one candle, that I might look at her while she slept, this
woman so dark it took the light of a flame to find her.
It took an assault in an elevator to bring her from the sad Qu'appelle
to the dry sage country, tassels of her buckskin jacket lifting and
falling with her stride, long hair flying out behind her dark eyes.
I have never seen a woman look more beautiful, and her sorrow
was part of her beauty, as if all the kisses I had to give her
were cheapened by the violence she had suffered.
I wanted to put my lips against her eyelids many weeks before
she trusted me enough to close her eyes. Even then, the lashes
fluttered as my mouth drew near, a reflex from memory.
In the gold center of the dark where the light of the candle wavered
I saw no such fear beneath her sleeping eyelids. In our deep bed she
trusted dreaming again. Kissing her eyes, I pinched the flame.
DL |
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aussiedave
Swinger
Australia
509 Posts |
Posted - 11/02/2010 : 03:18:30
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THREE CHILDREN
have ever known
the perpetual two become one......separation
a husband and wife facade
a mr and mrs charade
it split their children
into a brother and sister......divide,
into familial isolation
into sibling cathartic-ism
this
a residue of parental abdication
she never loved the father
of her children......she said.
it turned her eldest child
to numb-
it permeated his whole being
until he nothing felt,
he withdrew
until he never was-
it lasted for the first twenty-one years
of his existence-
......then he died
or a large portion of him did-
it corresponded
with his woman's first love,
a chastity given,
and taken away......together
it lasted for all eternity
her second child-
sacrificed her innocence
upon the altar of motherly scorn,
she too withdrew
she returned to a fetal conception,
she remained there
for the rest of her life,
seeking love from every man,
only to die, so she could die again,
her third child rejected her.......from birth
for he never stood a chance,
so he became some-one else,
in order to find love-
but found lust instead
......it killed him,
father,mother and the three in one,
children,
remnants of a love born to fail,
emotional scars,hidden
by genuine smiles
and false tears,
fragile thoughts
and forgotten whisperings
AD October 2010 |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 11/08/2010 : 10:53:11
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| I re’main stunned by the quality….read/koala tea...o’what we’re seein’ here |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 11/10/2010 : 13:47:06
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When a child, down by the river for target practice with his Father; he had to hold the pistol with both hands. When he was told how good he was for a kid, he thought it was just a daddy’s proud encouragement, mixed with amazement that his son was standing next to him with a gun. Looking back, he recalled that there was a sadness in the old man’s eyes.
He had no way of knowing that what he thought was a father and son outing was something else. His father was a preacher for goodness’ sakes; he didn’t even know what “keeping my edge” meant and he only saw the pistol down by the river. He never knew it was always within reach.
Fast forward:
When, a grown man, out in the street with his Father, he held a pistol in both hands. When he was told how good he was, he thought it was a daddy’s sad lament, mixed with amazement that his son was standing next to him with a gun...…and that they were both still alive. Looking over, he saw that there was still a sadness in the old man’s eyes.
The old man had kept his edge.
They'd spoken to each other five minutes before for the first time in years.
When they spoke again, there was still smoke in the air.
“I’m so sorry, son”.
“Me, too, Dad”.
“Well, I’d have a drink; but I quit”.
“Me, too, Dad”. “Think more of 'em will come?”
“Oh, yeah”.
“When?... What do we do now?”
“Can’t know for sure....
...Reload”.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 11/12/2010 : 19:17:00
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| Blue hearts and contagious candles. Words rushing her ruby-stung ears. Speechless when he covers her mouth with his hand. "...if this were a true story..." he says, inking the pages, burning the midnight oil. She talks in her sleep. She turns when he reaches for her. Her hands move toward him when he calls out her name in the dark. |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 11/21/2010 : 16:41:41
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Were we blinded by the moment?
…was that “the light” we saw?
Do either of us want anything that the other doesn’t really want to give?
…is there some strange (twisted) obligation?
Let’s not take on more than we can bear.
You’re not willin’…
and I’m not able
‘Cuz it just ain’t my cross to share.
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 11/24/2010 : 21:45:20
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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 off,
you can be thankful for that, okay, curmudgeon?
I said, Guys....
Today is the day when 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]
for being alive and sober for one more day...
That's it.
They know the rest,
that's why they got the job...
Besides, everything else is just gravy... |
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Jonmark
Windchimer
USA
1791 Posts |
Posted - 11/25/2010 : 12:42:08
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Amen Hank.
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2010 : 12:51:33
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I have spent much time...most of my life, in fact, trying to convince myself and others that I knew what I was talking about.
I have recently realized that I do know a lot about what I think. rjr (the real one).
"I have great faith in fools; self-confidence my friends call it."-Poe (the real one)
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Jonmark
Windchimer
USA
1791 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2010 : 13:31:13
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"Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to
watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly
know everything there is to be known." -Pooh (the real one)
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Edited by - Jonmark on 11/29/2010 13:32:46 |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2010 : 13:34:48
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| ...and may I say, the real Pooh is far superior to sham pooh. |
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Karen Runk
Firefly
USA
4925 Posts |
Posted - 11/29/2010 : 17:20:16
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Karen Runk |
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rodeo
Swinger
USA
733 Posts |
Posted - 11/30/2010 : 14:00:39
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Pooh the sage:
..."there is something you must always remember... you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. i'll always be with you.” |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 12/12/2010 : 08:46:03
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GENE
The Parkinson's twisting your once-limber body,
pulling you to the right and down, always to the right
and down, buckling your posture until your right ear sought
a pillow, left elbow bent at odd angles as your hands searched
for anchor between your thighs, your whole body trembling.
Over the years of decline, my son took to sitting on your right,
always to your right, snug to you, still able to see the man
who danced with joy before the earthquake entered the flesh
and stayed. My son's body became the pillow for your ear, the anchor
for your shaking hands. In his heart now, you dance from the grave.
DL |
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Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 12/13/2010 : 07:35:20
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quote:
Originally posted by rodeo
...and may I say, the real Pooh is far superior to sham pooh.
FOR-sure... |
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 12/18/2010 : 11:30:32
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The Way It Is
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
William Stafford |
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The Nightly Vigil