| Author |
 Topic  |
|
|
Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
 Posted - 05/14/2011 : 08:42:05
|
THE ROAD TO SINTALUTA
Weary Greyhound station
The unwashed wait in line
I'm bound for Sintaluta town
See a friend of mine
The pumped-in muzak murders
One more sixties' song
We're late for our departure
What's taking them so long
A woman kisses her new beau
He can't help but grin
For love or Sintaluta
I am on the road again
No need to tag my baggage
I've learned to travel light
Offer me the whole buffet
I'd settle for a bite
The driver's from Alberta
Sips his cherry coke
Says he smokes a pack a day
But doesn't like to smoke
We're passing by a graveyard
Old granite in the rain
Death or Sintaluta
I am headed back again
Small town depot, three a.m.
These milk runs ruin sleep
Boy and mother hug goodbye
The mother starts to weep
He takes the seat beside me
Twelve, maybe thirteen
Says he's going to Regina
To see his aunt Irene
Says he's gonna live there
I don't ask him to explain
We're all going somewhere, kid
And fall asleep again
Swift Current before sunrise
Time to grab some food
Six dollars for a devilled egg
Waitress in a mood
My pal in Sintaluta
She grew up in this town
Kids, of course, a long divorce
Always moved around
I share my sandwich with the boy
The snow turns back to rain
Two hours to Sintaluta
I'm wide awake again
On the road to Sintaluta
Snow turns back to rain
DL |
 |
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 05/14/2011 : 21:06:41
|
| He painted her portrait on the patio of a cliff hotel overlooking Acapulco Bay. Posed in a white wicker chair with her tanned legs tucked under, her canted hip against a summer pillow. Her slim, ringed fingers splayed on the tabletop like a restless five-spoke wheel. He painted her shelter-eyed, wary. A hesitant heart. He painted the gravity necessary to hold them in place. Later he said, "They'll bring something fragrant and distracting. Something lit or piled high on the plate. They'll place the food on a decorated table under a canopy of palms. They'll need help serving this meal. Anonymous waiters will appear. Blank as a fresh-stretched canvas. When we raise our glasses the shots will ring out. Part of everything happening in the mortal world. Am I right, baby? Does that sound right to you?" |
Edited by - Ailinn on 12/09/2015 11:23:14 |
|
|
|
aussiedave
Swinger
Australia
509 Posts |
Posted - 05/19/2011 : 03:19:30
|
NO GUILE
was he a man
of temperance?
honest? innocent?
shy?
his very presence
always went
unnoticed.
was he a man
of dignity?
strong? loyal?
discreet?
attributes that
never attracted
a second glance.
was he a man
of essence?
faithful? resolute?
timid?
these are questions
that remain unanswered.
< >
he was a man
who had no guile--another had said.
unworldly,
"I don't know you" he said,
but they were words spoken in kindness,
the guileless one,
this naive' man
listened,
said nothing,
but loved deeply
instead.
he remains
an enemy of the world.
dR April 2011 |
|
|
|
Craig
Firefly
Kyrgyzstan
3793 Posts |
Posted - 05/19/2011 : 17:48:36
|
quote:
Originally posted by aussiedave
NO GUILE
was he a man
of temperance?
honest? innocent?
shy?
his very presence
always went
unnoticed.
was he a man
of dignity?
strong? loyal?
discreet?
attributes that
never attracted
a second glance.
was he a man
of essence?
faithful? resolute?
timid?
these are questions
that remain unanswered.
< >
he was a man
who had no guile--another had said.
unworldly,
"I don't know you" he said,
but they were words spoken in kindness,
the guileless one,
this naive' man
listened,
said nothing,
but loved deeply
instead.
he remains
an enemy of the world.
dR April 2011
Miss you, pal. |
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 05/22/2011 : 17:36:30
|
I sit in the dark
in the back of the cafe.
I barely exist.
The little identity I had
existed within the gun and the bottle
that always lay on the table before me
and no longer do which was why
I barely exist.
But something new and different
may emerge;
familiar, but tougher.
May even leave the cafe...
Manana.
|
|
|
|
Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 05/25/2011 : 13:54:39
|
May even leave the cafe ? ? ?
Nah... can't imagine that! |
|
|
|
Bill Smith
Windchimer
2390 Posts |
Posted - 05/27/2011 : 07:58:33
|
"In the ancient world people placed heavy stones on the graves of their dead so their spirits would not wander and afflict the living. I always thought that this was simply the practice of superstitious and primitive people. But I was about to learn that the dead can hover on the edge of our vision with the density and luminosity of mist, and their claim on the earth can be as legitimate and tenacious as our own."
Dave Robicheaux speaking in the movie, "In the Electric Mist." |
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 05/29/2011 : 08:30:07
|
There are nights you never forget
for all the right reasons;
and then there are
the nights like the one underneath
a late August yellow moon
where a mistake becomes an unforgiven sin
and the search for redemption
haunts the rest of your days... |
|
|
|
Bill Smith
Windchimer
2390 Posts |
Posted - 05/29/2011 : 23:19:17
|
and then there are the nights you can't remember
the next day
and they might have been some of the best nights
who knows ... |
|
|
|
Becka
Sitter
95 Posts |
Posted - 05/30/2011 : 07:36:37
|
| Bill, Some of those night are better left forgotten. Some of them, I remember, but won't admit to..... |
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 05/30/2011 : 19:02:00
|
I sit in the darkness,
in the back of the cafe.
Carmelita tries to come to me
But I send her away.
When the madness comes
it is the only time I feel
I know who I really am.
Most of the time
I leave myself behind somewhere,
somewhere in a past that
comes only in shadows;
Only in memories.
I wish my memory was in my heart,
so I could cut them both out
with one slice... |
|
|
|
Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 05/30/2011 : 20:28:01
|
| Out by Zzyzx, a few desert miles from Interstate 15, "Now, the disappearance," he says, "for the moment, we're simply misplaced." The pressure of his hand increases. His mouth of invention invents the days. Time passes. Well, as I've told you before....he's around. |
|
|
|
San Diego
Swinger
509 Posts |
Posted - 05/30/2011 : 20:31:47
|
| Lizards in the courtyard five inches long with tiny dinosaur faces. Birds of Paradise and veils of thorny bougainvillea. Delirious slow bees. A rainbow frisson of spray when the irrigation comes on. A late prop drones into Palomar, the pilot's eye on the wave rolling in. |
|
|
|
Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 06/04/2011 : 19:01:53
|
| That video is Holy |
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 06/04/2011 : 19:04:20
|
They lived in a bungalow in '72.
In the woods, in the Valley,
an old Jewish camp named Melody Lane
with bungalows split into two apartments
with a thin wall between them.
Nights, Buck could hear the fat couple next door
coughing and fighting,
Carmelita making him promise they'd
never get like that.
He tried to be a good provider,
but he was new at this,
fresh from playing a bum for years
and not caring about anybody or anything
but himself.
Oh, but he could be so passionate,
about politics or girls or music
or the liquids or the powders that fueled his desires.
He drove a taxi seven nights a week
twelve hours a night and never got anywhere
but was still moving.
[at least.]
[sort of.]
He still didn't know why
Carm had come east with him;
but it didn't matter anymore...
That horse and rider had slipped
over the horizon long ago.
[sort of.] |
|
|
|
buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 06/05/2011 : 11:02:15
|
It started as a dime a dance romance
Underneath a quarter moon
Her eyes asked me When and
My hands gently answered, Soon.
Angels in the treetops were singing
A song about A long road home
The wolf's long tears he was crying
About an old man too tired to roam
Desperation and gloom get the best of us
Madness can be a place to rest
It's after the scores are all settled
It's after the sins are confessed
It started as a dime a dance romance
Underneath a quarter moon
Some moments outlast forever
Some moments are gone all too soon.
The Gods say you'll never be back, love
But I'm hearing that same old tune
I've got my dime and we've got the time
And tonight there's a quarter moon...
I'm dancing and dreaming again love,
Hearing that lonesome old tune
I've got my dime and we've got the time
And tonight there's a quarter moon...
Hank Beukema revbuckmanMusic 2011
|
|
|
|
San Diego
Swinger
509 Posts |
Posted - 06/05/2011 : 18:35:30
|
...in the path.
My coast-to-coast family surprised me Saturday at 7am. 101 Diner's Bomb Breakfast and down to Imperial for Surf Dog Championship. Purple sunglasses on a golden retriever. Yellow rubber ducks glued to the board. Buddy, the winner in small dog category barking all the way in.
For two days we had music and marathon cooking. Folks laughing and outdoing each other with can-you-top-this stories of Stu. My daughter-in-law Kelly calls Stu the Pied Piper because he walked the beach with a long bamboo pole and we all trailed along behind him. Many pictures of our rag-tag parades.
My son David stepped out on the patio in his dad's leather jacket. "Can I take this home with me?"
"So you changed your phone number five times in five months...you don't answer anyway. Except to lie to us because you think we're far enough away." He says this all casually holding my hand looking out to sea. The sun had set. It was getting cold. He pulled up my collar and put his arms around me. In his father's jacket he's so tall and warm.
One of my grandsons ran up then, "C'mon, RoRo. Uncle Jon says we have to walk in the path." We all trekked single-file down the beach past fire rings glowing like earthbound stars. |
|
|
|
Jonmark
Windchimer
USA
1791 Posts |
Posted - 06/05/2011 : 20:04:43
|
A late prop drones into Palomar, the pilot's eye on the wave rolling in.
I have one of my uncle's flight jackets. It's too big for me but I wear it anyway. It's kind of a comfort knowing I could never fill it.
All my love to you Ro. |
|
|
|
San Diego
Swinger
509 Posts |
Posted - 06/06/2011 : 20:37:10
|
Jonmark, In my heart you're a giant.
Love to you and Bree from KCRQ.
Ro |
|
|
|
Topic |
|
|
The Nightly Vigil