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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
 Posted - 01/13/2019 : 22:25:59
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He said he did it for the wife and the kids
And he got so close he could taste it
But the old man in the mirror
Caught his eye and he said
It's long past time that you faced it.
You sang it all wrong,
Yeah, you wrote the damn song
But all you ever did was waste it.
He sees them kissing in the park
He sees them driving through the dark
Memories so strong he can taste her
But then he hears the refrain
All you gave them was pain and
He knows he can never replace her.
He said he did it for the wife and the kids
And then he spent every bit of their savings
But the old man in the mirror
Caught his eye and he said
But
You never stopped feeding your cravings.
You sang it all wrong
Yeah, you wrote the damn song.
Now you walk the streets all night raving.
He sees them tossing the ball on the lawn
He sees the Yankees, a child's picture drawn
The boy's face lights up then goes dim
But then he hears the refrain
All you gave them was pain and
He knows he can never replace him.
He sees them kissing in the park
He sees them driving through the dark
Memories so strong he can taste her
But then he hears the refrain
All you gave them was pain and
He knows he can never replace her
The old man in the mirror
Caught his eye and he said
It's long past time that you faced it.
You sang it all wrong,
Yeah, you wrote the damn song
But all you ever did was waste it.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/18/2019 : 18:07:51
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| "You've done this before...?" he says. "Many times..." she says. "Just take a deep breath and give yourself up to the ocean. Better yet, close your eyes." The run down Grandview stairs. The last minute leap into the maelstrom. Swept away from the crumbling cliffs and eucalyptus boulevard. Leave earth behind. Pilgrims at the top leaning over the rails with their mouths wide open. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 03/21/2020 18:16:31 |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 01/19/2019 : 16:19:06
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I said to her,
”They're more than just memories, they're the story.
You are the only one that will know your story,
from the beginning to the end, start to finish,
hospital to dirt. Nursery to ashes.
You write the script and choose the music
but somebody else directs the show and calls the ferryman.
The key is finding who or what they are.
A delicate balancing act...”
She said,
“Be careful there,
You almost dropped a memory or two.”
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/20/2019 : 17:21:21
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| Winter-cold stories. Slow-burning stars. Nights before leaving. Plans and candles. When smoke reaches the wall it climbs upward. Soft smudge of soot there. How you come to be who you are. |
Edited by - Ailinn on 01/28/2019 18:30:08 |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/20/2019 : 17:32:17
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| She knows it will be Summer again. The ocean content to stay on its side of the Coast Highway. Sun in his face. Shoulders freckling up. His wistful gaze upon the water. Hansen Surfboards low plane over waves crashing at Moonlight and Ponto. 30% off!!! banner trailing. When he shades his eyes to look up a hundred sudden wings in the sky. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 01/22/2019 : 07:55:06
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I'm hitchin a ride to redemption
On this dark, hot July night
The quarter moon's three nickels short
The neon's not much light
Townes and Zevon feed the engine
Newbury's driving this old train
I find myself smiling a bit
As the sky begins to rain
It seems the rails end up ahead
But Mickey only smiles
He's made this trip many a time
His soul's walked every mile
So many times I needed an ace
But only drew a seven
Tonight's the night I win the pot
Headin for the last bar in Heaven
At the last bar in Heaven
The shows they never end
At the last bar in Heaven
You can always find a friend
At the last bar in Heaven
There's no one getting stoned
At the last bar in Heaven
It always feels like home
Seems the old friends always find me
When the darkness fills my soul
It doesn't take but a song or two
And I'm feeling almost whole
Forgiveness and redemption's
What my old heart needs tonight
This train I'm on will carry me
From the darkness to the light
At the last bar in Heaven
The shows will never end
At the last bar in Heaven
You can always find a friend
At the last bar in Heaven
There's no one getting stoned
At the last bar in Heaven
It always feels like home
At the last bar in Heaven
The shows they never end
At the last bar in Heaven
You'll always have a friend
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/22/2019 : 20:35:51
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| In the middle of the steep dark double stack trains arrive at inconspicuous stations. Those high numbers rolling across the Mojave. And fiery objects crisscross the sky. Their quiet crash landings. Midnight oil burns here. Some catch up before dawn stumbles across the long cinder lots. "That last life..." he shakes his head. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/22/2019 : 20:40:17
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| Old photographs. The heat comes on. The house leans back and stretches. "...in black and white and color..." he says. He chooses the one of the auto graveyard with rain dripping through barbed wire. "Running boards!" she said that overcast day. "A should be story..." he said. That surprised her. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/22/2019 : 21:00:42
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| "I'm not afraid..." she says. "Go on..." he says, "keep talkin'..." Ruthless green jungle under their feet. Fan palms stalking the San Andreas. Dragonfly swarm over the oasis. Faraway mountain tops flashing snow. Cahuilla guide beating the ground with a stick. Posted sign, SNAKES ARE OUT - USE COMMON SENSE - BE CAREFUL. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 01/27/2019 : 21:42:22
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Consolation prize.
Almost a winner.
Tearing down Rt 66 in 1972
past the rusted Fords and the dirt side roads
leading to lives I would never know.
Heading back East with someone I barely knew
who would consume the next twenty years of my life.
Too young to slow down long enough to listen to anybody, Old enough to know better...
Lost her in the sun.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/28/2019 : 21:06:35
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| Some days he reaches across the sky. Some nights he reaches through it. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/29/2019 : 18:02:38
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| "Old building on the West Side," she says. "Incinerator for burning trash. A chute built into the wall like a great black breadbox. When you pulled the lid open you smelled smoke and heard the fire roar. Sometimes sparks flew up. I couldn't sleep. Went back to hotels. Skipped school. Out on the streets in the wee hours if the shoot ran late. Free. Nobody keeping track then. It's a black and white city. A presence place. Lots of ghosts there." He nods. The sun is hot on his knees. The day is shining. "...Sanity..." he says. "Like Chinese menus..." she says, "...One from column A and one from..." |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 01/29/2019 : 18:10:01
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| He talks about prophesy and revelation. The epiphany in dreams. Genetic memory. Parallel lives. Speculation and theory. "...all of it..." she says, her head spinning. Candle flicker. Gleam on the glasses. Too many flowers in the room. "Now and then..." he says. "Or the now and the then?" She puts her ear to his chest. The steady two-beat proof there. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 01/30/2019 : 16:22:48
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Carmelita has left me so many times
You would think I would be used to it by now.
All I have left of her this time
Is the stain of her cup on the table.
It's getting to the point that when
I see her standing in my door
I think that she is leaving me
Walking backwards...
If you were me it would make sense.
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 02/09/2019 : 18:05:22
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| "...emotional memory..." he says, bells in his voice, "...when you were a child...all innocence and imagination." "Well..." she says, "Most of the hotel folk were Irish. New to America. Young men arguing Sweepstakes and Revolution. Pounding their fists on the tables. Scaring me with demon tales I loved. Battle stories. Myths and legends. Monsters under the bed. All manner of dread. The maids were lighthearted and musical. They laughed in the laundry and whispered behind their palms. Why do they have so many secrets, I asked Brigid. 'No more why's,' she scolded. 'Curious girls make God angry.' But she snooped in my closet and bureau drawers. Dr. Toomey let me lock my music box in his desk. He was older than the waiters. He sipped his whiskey and smoked a long pipe. He wore a gold watch on a chain on his vest. He read the scratch sheet with a magnifying glass." Late afternoon clouds scudding over the water. A swirl of gulls dipping down. His profile that never changes nodding with the motion of the rocker. "What did you keep in your jewelry box...?" he leans forward, unaware of his power. |
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Ailinn
Windchimer
2197 Posts |
Posted - 02/09/2019 : 18:12:11
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| Bladed places. Spiny branches. Christ's bloody crown, "...out there in the desert," he says. But nights adrift in the dark on a Badlands dirt road are different. All the constellations in the Milky Way galaxy with their WELCOME mats out. And sailors know it's a short walk into low stars. Three or four car lengths at most. |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 02/11/2019 : 20:20:53
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He never thought it could happen again
He thought that his old heart was dead
It just wasn’t worth it anymore
He was tired of banging his head
He climbed the stairs every night
When he could keep from falling down
The audience doesn’t pay for dancing bears
They pay to laugh at the clown.
She was everything he thought he wanted
The only thing left of his heart
She filled him with dreams and fairy dust
She kept him from coming apart
He had turned into a tired little man
Left with a tired little mind
Most times the ones who love too much
Can’t be seen by the one who’s blind
He climbed the stairs every night
When he could keep from falling down
The audience doesn’t pay for dancing bears
They pay to laugh at the clown.
Merci Anne-Aude
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 02/12/2019 : 05:08:53
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Margaret came upstairs and found him
sitting in the rocker just
looking out the window at a hawk
flying over the yard and
beyond that to the river.
He seemed sad.
She thought of a rhyme...
Eighty two and nothing left to do.
Did he have regrets?
Were they his own or for his son?
Were they because he had no grandchildren?
Were they because his friends kept dying?
Or was it just a peaceful moment after breakfast
and nothing much was wrong?
Margaret knew.
She shared the same life.
It was a beautiful Saturday morning in March
looking down at the Hudson River.
Nothing much was wrong...
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Doug L
Firefly
Canada
5446 Posts |
Posted - 02/14/2019 : 07:39:07
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I am breaking up
with you, winter. I have eyes
for a hummingbird.
DL |
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buckman
Firefly
USA
2825 Posts |
Posted - 02/18/2019 : 08:35:10
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All the days you walked beside me
Were all the days I did not fall,
Winter winds caress my soul
Another day learning to crawl.
All the nights you laid beside me
Were the nights I did not shake,
God,
The doors are left wide open now
There's nothing left to take.
Did you leave me with a song to sing
So my lips would remember how?
Did you leave me for the past again,
While I'm stuck in here and now.
All the years go a little slower
While the fingers hold on fast
All the nights take a little longer
Midnight joys have mostly passed.
All the nights you laid beside me
Were the nights I did not shake,
The doors are left wide open now
There's nothing left to take.
All the days you walked beside me
Were all the days I did not fall,
Winter winds caress my soul
Another day learning to crawl.
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The Nightly Vigil