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San Diego
Swinger

509 Posts

Posted - 05/26/2019 :  15:06:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Renaissance food, those turkey legs, Joe.

The children are actually shivering. I have a houseful so they'll probably get to go more than once.

Love to Utah.

Edited by - San Diego on 11/20/2019 15:24:02
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 05/27/2019 :  19:07:57  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
His wishes always seemed to outrun his needs.
A life trapped in the shadows
Somewhere in between...



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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2019 :  17:20:06  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Low oyster light in the morning. Sentient clouds. Top-heavy bluff spilling over. Butterflies in a white room. The garden's delirious flowers. Their Eden-green fragrance. "...an' all that water out there..." he says, cup in hand, steam coming off the coffee.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2019 :  17:23:57  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"It depends on the brand," she says. "You don't like the purple ones." He takes a partially chewed one out of his mouth and checks the color. Blocks of sunlight like Mondrian's art on the floor. "These reds are wrong," he says, and she agrees. "The black ones are most always licorice," she says.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2019 :  17:29:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Hard work...but I liked it. Knew it wasn't forever. Low sky leanin' in. Slow tides..." he's laying color down after each sentence, "...different books..." he says, "...a life..." "Kept the Klieg lights out of my eyes," she says. "Leaned on the props for the long shots. Back on the avenue in transient twilight. The violet hour. Souls in flux."

Edited by - Ailinn on 06/03/2019 17:27:35
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 05/29/2019 :  17:32:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
NO TRESPASSING signs wilder places. Dust-bright horizon. Raptors in the sky. The creek dusty. The leaves brittle. Every sheet on the line quick-dried in Santa Ana. Mineral shimmer along the foothills where he moves that fast car.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 06/01/2019 :  06:47:15  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Consolation prize.
Almost a winner.
Tearing down the Wyoming interstate
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 - 06/03/2019 :  17:25:39  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Blood roads. Hibernia tribes. Irish cops. American imagination. Steep subway stairs. Little acts of mercy. All-night slices of sky in view. I did it to stay in the hotel..." she says, "...room service carts with coffee. Central Art's fine parchment papers."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 06/03/2019 :  17:36:01  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Studio warehouse in the silo building off Canal. Seven floors of loud metal stairs. Circuitous echo. Glossy prints in the Lobby. Street urchin look. Big eyes. Freight elevators to bring up the clothes. Star paints on my face. 'The Look' the client requires. Grows herbs on the fire escape in Campbell's Soup cans. Fresh mint for her tea. The future on hold while the cameramen play with the lights." He pauses with his brush on the canvas when she comes to stand beside him. "...those sun-bent flowers..." she says, "...how did you do that...?" He holds up his paint-streaked fingers. Up close she can see his prints in the smear. "Purely a presence," she says, and he laughs. A lifetime goes by, "...the spread-open fan of memory..." he says.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 06/04/2019 :  15:29:49  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

They always say the story’s too sad
But they only know about half
He traveled east in the westbound lane
Then turned around and laughed
He gave the finger to the sons of bitches
While he carried out their trash
The world didn’t owe him a living
And never gave him a Goddamn thing
He swaggered with the beat of the jazz
And always made sure he could swing.

The thing about this world, friend
Is it’s just another game
He’s looking forward to the day
When it all goes up in flames.
You really think you’re special don't you?
But
You’re evil and you’re blind
And most of your great society
Will burn away in Hell's hard times

They try and tell me I'm doing it wrong
But I know wrong and I know I'm right
You see me and the Devil, well,
We used to be pretty tight.
There are those that give and those that take
and the ones that go to their knees
But Lord just give me one time more
With one that only aims to please.

They always say the story’s too sad
But they only know about half
He traveled east in the westbound lane
Then turned around and laughed

https://youtu.be/gXdZrRDYhXw


Edited by - buckman on 06/04/2019 15:32:02
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 06/07/2019 :  17:31:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Fairfax and Third. Farmers Market and the Tar Pits. 11pm on The Miracle Mile when the 'broker' approaches. "Open your minds to this," he says. He holds out his arms and shakes out his sleeves. His brown suit is pleated with wrinkles. "Flower people! I saw that right off!" he says, and produces a faded photo of a flower farm FOR SALE in Salinas. "A chance to make millions!" he says. It's a balmy night. A little moisture in the air puts halos around the street lamps and diffuses the neon. Softens Wilshire's loud hum. "...didn't seem strange at all..." she says later. "...flower people..." he grins.

Edited by - Ailinn on 06/08/2019 05:20:01
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 06/07/2019 :  23:54:36  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
See,
She Looks at me.

See how
She looks at me.

I say, Martina,
Why do you look at me
Like that?

She says
Because you're beautiful.

I say,
No, really, why do you
Look at me like that?

She says
Because I love you and
You're beautiful and
Nobody ever told you before
And I want to remember every inch
of your face when I'm in Heaven

Look,
She looks at me

Look how
She looks at me.

I miss her looking....



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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 06/18/2019 :  17:53:08  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The taxi arrives. Motor idling. Suitcase by the door. The holy Sisters wave. The high gate closes. Absolution on the meter on the way to the trains where the contented dead sip their whiskey in the Observation Car. Consolation and sage advice. Next lives rushing by wide windows. What more do you need to know...? she says. He's silent and unblinking. His familiar strangeness. His cherished face. His obstinate magic and safe harbor embrace. Fire rings down the coastline. Scent like incense through the trees. Starfall west of everything those nights...
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 06/22/2019 :  10:54:34  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Marionette on a string.
Looking up, wondering.
Faultless creation gone astray.
Too long searching for fun in the wrong places.
Carnival music background to a memory.
Calliope churning out dance music.

What's a poor wooden boy to do,
But dance?



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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 06/23/2019 :  18:19:25  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
They work in two rooms at two desks. One of them has an easel. Two easels. And fine sable brushes from Spain. On star-bright nights he interprets the sky. Talks about days gone by. Faraway and before days. Cut with grief. Cut with grace. Cut with wonder. They exist out of time in these rooms. No one sees them. No one knows when they're there. None of the rumors are accurate.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 06/23/2019 :  18:30:20  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Heart-hammering truth at the Café Lupe. "It's...not personal," she says. "Oh, you bet it's personal..." his cracked-in-half laugh then. His covenant with time. Hallowed ghosts. Witnesses to mystery. "Somethin' to keep in your mind," he says. Ice in his eyes when he's determined. "Ah, yes," she says. "Cobbled Durrow. Frenzy of stars overhead. The chill mists fen and bog. Smoke smudge on the damp chimney wall. The piercing cold there." "Many nights... Many nights..." he starts, sudden flowers in his words when the sun ticks down through a haze of palo verde.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 06/24/2019 :  23:08:32  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
It Never Crossed My Mind (Jesse's Lament)

Every day gets harder
When you're eighteen and alone
You're stuck inside your own head
You no longer have a home

The Demons are behind you
They've picked up on your trail
The track goes on forever
But you no longer have a rail

But, I'll never give it up
Give me any spark you find
I'll never take that way out
No, it never crossed my mind
I'll never leave you, Daddy,
I couldn't be that unkind
I'll never leave you, Mommy,
No, it never crossed my mind

It seems they just don't get it
You've given all you've got
The world beat you up today
It brought you to this spot

Go easy on my memory
Like the ticking of a clock
I ran as fast as I could run
Until I tripped on that last rock

But, I'll never give it up
Give me any spark you find
I'll never take that way out
No, it never crossed my mind
I'll never leave you, Daddy,
I couldn't be that unkind
I'll never leave you, Mommy,
No, it never crossed my mind




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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 06/29/2019 :  19:43:12  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Louise took the Caddy and drove west until America ran out of land.
And beyond.
When they raised the car she had a picture of a baby
in a locket clutched in her hand.
No one knew her and no one knows what it all means.
Bless all creatures great and small.



Edited by - buckman on 06/29/2019 19:45:13
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 07/03/2019 :  17:42:53  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"I ran away often enough to make them stop counting before they got to my pew. I didn't want to fix anything. I wanted what wasn't allowed." He raises his eyebrows. He pauses with the brush. "...candles. A mirror. A blanket that didn't scratch. A window with a water view. A boat with oars hidden in the marsh grass. A dangerous man waiting there. A man I might tell the truth to." "Lift your chin just a little..." he says, streaking the sky with Phthalo Blue. Mariner's Run, he calls it. Big water if they can reach it. "...anything can happen..." he says.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2197 Posts

Posted - 07/03/2019 :  17:51:55  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...an' the rest of it...?" he says. "Industry hazard," she shrugs. "Certain things to expect... To be wary of in that setting. I put a high wall around me. And a low threshold of rage." He opens his eyes, "Go on..." he says, "...I won't let you fall." A trance leans over the coastline late afternoons. There's the sand and the water. The sun's somnolent weight. The curtain of jingle shells anchoring the deck. Two weeks work drilling small holes to string them on fish line. He stands up and stretches. His shoulder blades lift under his cloud-white shirt. A light wind glitters the spindrift. Later they walk to the dock in the dark. Barefoot on the braille-seamed road. He rolls up his sleeves and starts rowing toward the stars.
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