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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 07/19/2014 :  16:15:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The hair-pin road with the barrel-rolled wrecks caught in the ivy and the palms. The fatal curve off Mulholland. The stony road at the top of the hill gone stormy. Who are these people at the door with their microphones in our faces? Candlelit windows listing to port where they spin their expensive stories?...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 07/22/2014 :  20:05:48  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"The colors..." he says, "...so beautiful..." They're high overlooking some cameo bay where he's painting the gravity to hold them in place. His open-heart face amazed at "...all that falling-down Shangri La light... All that water out there..."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 07/22/2014 :  20:56:44  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
There's a ship rocking in a shelter harbor where the mute Fortune Teller talks to the Sailor in Sign and the Sailor sings his sea chanteys. (No back story, please. It's past midnight and they're both very tired.) "...flying high above the city at night...the wind's right resistance, remember?..." he says. She flutters her fingers shoulder-high. "A little accordion embroidery, then..." he says, slipping a curved thread into the pillow case hem where they fall asleep on their heart-side beneath the sails soft thrum. His breath drifting over her shoulders.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2818 Posts

Posted - 07/27/2014 :  01:22:02  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A NEW RECORDING - [11 years late.....]
La Rue des Blanc-Manteaux
Written by Doug Lang
Spoken by Hank Beukema

http://youtu.be/1GtxjV6cxtA


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Grania
Rocker

110 Posts

Posted - 07/27/2014 :  22:44:00  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
So happy to hear you here, Reverend B.

Please post the lyrics also. I love to see
and listen to the spoken word at the same time.

Love to you across the years and the miles.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 07/27/2014 :  22:58:11  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Okay, okay..." he says, "...but jus' because you don't like the first act doesn't mean you won't like the show." (Fog swirling around their ankles.) In a high-step house in a city of stairways they polish the plank floors and scrub the transom windows. Whiz Burgers and Mitchell's Caramel Praline when they're flush. Peanut butter on Thrift Bread close to payday. You can't imagine how hungry they get dying on stage every night and...Wednesday matinees at 2pm.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 07/31/2014 :  18:47:51  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Short story of how it happened.

Adam's eating apple pie under a sun
spangled sky licking his delicious
fingers on the Isle of Eden
(which may turn out to be what's left of
California). A sovereign nation
afloat in an otherwise empty sea.
Coast-to-coast, side-to-side, top-to-bottom...
"...all that water out there..." Adam says,
"where...every back yard is...an ocean..."
"Where the air smells like brown sugar
burning," Eve says, attacking the stove.
The high bridges are breaking apart
in small retrofit pieces every day.
Adam fires the toll collectors and ferrymen.
Hires a crew of sea-wanderers
to translate the gulls epic stories.
Eve loosens her sarong and hands
Adam her Broad Spectrum SPF 30.
Days of sun glowing their shoulders.
Candy apples on a seaside boardwalk.
So, He decided to let it all happen.
God, I mean. It was a slow day in Heaven
and He was bored with beating the angels
at every board game Parker Brothers invented.
The question... Did Eve
step out of Adam guilty before they began?
Tray full of tarts and turnovers in her hands,
apron strings already on fire. Or was it Adam?
Aggravating God every day
(and who knows how long they were?)
with his grave petitioning?

Edited by - Ailinn on 08/02/2014 17:00:35
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 08/01/2014 :  23:44:01  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...jut another night waiting to cross. Symphony of out of sync sirens. Mismatched uniforms. Iridescent exhaust stinging the air. "Anything to declare?" after two hours of blaring Mariachi.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2818 Posts

Posted - 08/02/2014 :  00:21:03  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
[FOR RO]

LA RUE DES BLANCS MANTEAUX by Doug Lang

If you ever go to Paris
If you've got the bucks to go
There's a little church you've got to find
On La Rue des blancs Manteaux
Forget the whores of Montmartre
The flame-blower's parade
Leave those wild Moroccan joints
And Jacques' pinball arcade
And the gargoyles of Notre Dame
Papa's tired café
Leave all of those side-trips
For another day
'Cause there's a blind man playing saxophone
You've got to hear him blow
He plays inside that little church
On La Rue des blancs Manteaux

He said his name was Reuben
This lanky Capetown man
Said he knew Abdullah Ibrahim
When he was Dollar Brand
And Miriam Makeba, yeah
Hugh Masekela too
Said he met the great Duke Ellington
Back in 1962
Exiled in Europe to escape
The murder and the poverty
Played the Paris underground
Until they set Mandela free
And the priest gave him a church key
Said 'You're free to come and go'
Free to play his Capetown song
On La Rue des blancs Manteaux

I was traveling with Sandra
We'd come north, up from Dijon
Drank wine the whole way on the train
Bontemps tout les temps
Got a cheap room in the Quarter
Above the Cuban club
Those drummers played 'till every skin
Was smeared with drops of blood
And we walked across the bridges
Peeked into the Moulin Rouge
Said hello to Mona Lisa
Saw old men carve the blues
But the greatest song I ever heard
Or maybe ever will, I know
Came from the man who had no eyes
On La Rue des blancs Manteaux

Reuben played the alto
Played so joyous, self-assured
Butter tones of Johnny Hodges
Mad filigree of Bird
But when he played it native
That Capetown homeboy jive
His eyebrows were like archways
That old man came alive
Written by Doug Lang Copyright SOCAN ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

A NEW RECORDING - [11 years late.....]
La Rue des Blanc-Manteaux
Written by Doug Lang
Spoken by Hank Beukema

http://youtu.be/1GtxjV6cxtA

and the original and only true version of this mighty song:
http://youtu.be/DLAhVCb73Ns



Edited by - buckman on 08/02/2014 00:24:21
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2818 Posts

Posted - 08/02/2014 :  00:33:51  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Ailinn, what is left of my heart you have it....


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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 08/02/2014 :  17:04:32  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Merci, dear Reverend B. Thank you for your kindness posting the words. A pleasure to see on the page. What is left of your heart is...more than most. Every day...much love from the other side.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 08/02/2014 :  17:23:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I'm wary of apples. Forbidden fruit I imagine red. Not Granny Smith. Old-fashioned apples. Taste like Macs. Look like Delicious. In mountains I smell apple perfume. Feel twigs breaking beneath my bare feet. Fig leaves scratching my cheeks as I'm running out of The Garden holding his hand. Adam's. God's hand-made stepson who asked for me. Free will. He should have known better. I watch the traffic on State Route 78 heading toward the orchards in Julian...famous for pie! I research that high town's history looking for a sign. I save all the pictures of him and the rare few of the two of us together.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 08/06/2014 :  15:13:24  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Off early today. Lunch with an old friend.

Well... I was raised in Catholic orphanages and boarding schools. The refectory walls were scenes of the Virgin Martyrs. I ran away often. The holy Sisters made me kneel on rice for Penance. Or they sent me to Monsignor's office. Monsignor was a Navy Chaplin when he was young. He had many pictures of boats, but no martyrs. He was kind and absent-minded. He'd hand me a stack of LIFE magazines and set a kitchen timer to remind him I was there. He had a bottle with a sailing ship on his desk. The sun coming through the windows made the ship's shadow bigger and wavering on the wall. He gave me a tiny tin of Walker's Shortbread Biscuits one Easter which I hid in my uniform pocket. My friend asks me if I'm still Catholic. Yes, I say...and my eyes are still brown.
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Joe Z
Windchimer

USA
1819 Posts

Posted - 08/08/2014 :  13:10:02  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A psychedelic ride on a Newbury song... performed by The Uniques

http://www.colnelcrazyrecords.com/748.mp3
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San Diego
Swinger

508 Posts

Posted - 08/08/2014 :  17:58:45  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Oh, my gosh, Joe. Where do you find these things?!

My new reading glasses are waiting on Number II.

Love you,

Ro

Edited by - San Diego on 10/05/2014 16:45:51
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 08/08/2014 :  18:05:44  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
How wild he was when he pulled the chopsticks out of her hair. Let it fly out the window with the detective's tale undone. Stuck-up, he called her. Hahaha.
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Karen Runk
Firefly

USA
4925 Posts

Posted - 08/08/2014 :  18:48:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send Karen Runk an AOL message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
quote:
Originally posted by Joe Z

A psychedelic ride on a Newbury song... performed by The Uniques

http://www.colnelcrazyrecords.com/748.mp3


I've not heard this song before. where DID you find it???

Karen Runk
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Joe Z
Windchimer

USA
1819 Posts

Posted - 08/08/2014 :  19:34:09  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Hello Ladies,

The name of the song is "I Sure Feel More (Like I Do Than I Did When I Got Here)." The Uniques were a Louisiana band, which featured Joe Stampley.

Love ya,

Joe

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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 08/13/2014 :  18:36:48  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Hey, hey, hey! You just go all over the place," she said, the first time she heard one of his stories. "I saw things change," he said. It was a windy season in a city more his than hers. Often colder inside than out. Curtains lifting from the sill and flames flickering the burners though the kitchen windows were closed. They'd come home and slip on another layer of clothes and stand at the stove eating chowder. Their two spoons scraping the bottom of the pan. Outside scarlet geraniums thrived. How the nights fell down around them.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2154 Posts

Posted - 08/17/2014 :  16:00:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Sunday breakfast at Sunrise Retirement. Grain breads and granola. Eggs and make-believe eggs. The new widow, colossal with grief. (What to do...what to say...? Hold her hands.) "Is the air conditioning too cold for you?" I ask. A shawl in her lap she holds onto like a life preserver. I drape it across her small shoulders and give Robber the tea sign. Hot! With honey. Robber (Roberta Barron) could run this place single-handedly. Instinctively on alert. Inherently kind. And her entertaining tattoos need looooonng explanations. Later Marco will appear with the WELCOME cake.
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