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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 08/19/2019 :  18:14:17  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The artist's name was Mateo. Or Miguel. He called his work Armonía. He only appeared after midnight. He painted images in and out of this world. He painted very quickly and then moved on. One of Revolucion's inscrutable nomads.

Edited by - Ailinn on 08/19/2019 22:09:44
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 08/20/2019 :  11:55:21  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
She asked me why I ran away.
I said, Because I couldn’t fly...



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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 08/22/2019 :  17:35:47  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The paper he touches before she does. Kids on ponies. Men in big hats. Women with legs in skirts. Car salesmen leaning on Chevy hoods. Humid nights on the lot. Wire pens on the outskirts of town. "The storm comin' down for the hit..." his shoulders shrug under his black shirt. "Sun-up in the east. Down in the west. Seas washin' over the bows. You wanna do this...?" he says. No props in his story. Hands folded in her lap.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 08/22/2019 :  17:43:59  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"Not snow, but cold. Off-season," she says. "A lawn that slopes to a seawall. Past life on the dock. Ferry chugging toward Boston. Halo lights of the Tea Party Harbor. Fog horns and buoy bells. History asleep in its wheelchair. Ash Wednesday's almighty message." His silence. His unblinking stare. "Even then the trains ran north and south..." she says, "...a promise."
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 08/24/2019 :  14:45:17  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply


Darlin, I can't make excuses
For the kind of man I've been.
I've paid so many pipers
for so many deadly sins.
I'm not here making promises
Or trying to change your mind.
Just an old man chasing memories
Before the whiskey makes me blind.

[The girl shouldnta danced like that
There oughtta be a law.
She sent me to the floor of Hell
And I bounced back up for more.]

I never heard your crying
In the middle of the night.
I was busy burning bridges
And making up new lies.
The preacher says you lose your soul
When you sniff the devil's breath
The night's couldn't come fast enough
Until the day you left.

[She shimmies and she shakes that thing
Turns a good man over to wild
I still see that red dress in my dreams
Sometimes I even smile.]

We never had the money
But, baby, we had a time,
Golden Gate Park was hot that day
You were my first song that rhymed.
Those magical days of nineteen
Turned to forty overnight
Things get lost along the road
You can never make them right.

The girl shouldnta danced like that
There oughtta be a law.
She sent me to the floor of Hell
And I bounced back up for more.]

[She shimmies and she shakes that thing
Turns a good man over to wild
I still see that red dress in my dreams
Sometimes I even smile.]

The girl shouldnta danced like that
There oughtta be a law.
She sent me to the floor of Hell
And I bounced back up for more.]



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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 08/24/2019 :  17:51:44  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...but that's jus' the way of it..." he says, "...go on..." "You know the story," she says. He doesn't say anything.. "Sassy for Coca-Cola," she shrugs. "Wholesome for General Mills. Ted was my favorite photographer. A manic genius who imported State Line Potato Chips. Drank cases of Mateus Rose. Kept a fishbowl full of candy bars and peanut butter crackers. Had a pampered cat named Tiger and a mother in Queens he adored. In between takes I'd sit shivering in underwear and a barber's cape. He'd toss Tiger's blanket in my lap. When he said 'shut your eyes,' I shut them. Let him blow phony snow in my face. 'Cheekbones,kid!' he'd shout. 'Haute couture!'"

He stands and holds his hands over the fire pit. Moonlight shining his shoulders. Kokopelli guarding the yard. "Write me a letter," he says. "Write every day." Dear Sir... she writes. Rainy Wind Font.

Edited by - Ailinn on 09/04/2019 17:23:31
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 08/26/2019 :  11:54:35  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
They stopped at the river.
She knew it was where I hid the moon...

The horse skittered, she danced,
Oh, how Carmelita loved when a horse danced.
And
She loved when she found one of my secret places.

So many places still to find,,,,
She has yet to find where I hid the sun...



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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 08/28/2019 :  11:22:59  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Jesse Matthew Beukema
Jan 24,1974 - Aug 28, 1992
The best of days and the worst of days.

I dream of you so much
it's like you're still here.
Space inside, partly died,
left on the road with you.

Our buddy,
Our music man.

So much left to teach you and
learn from you.
What a man you would have been!

We miss you our angel...



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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/04/2019 :  16:12:31  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
She sleeps in his shirt stiff with paint. Denim-blue for work. Cut sleeves fraying at the elbows. The season grows colder. The holidays come round. Will you help? they finally ask bringing tea. Silver bells. The chandeliers sparkle. The children have grown.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/04/2019 :  16:30:38  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The spinning world spins. His fast car rushes westward. Rips across the desert under the mechanics of stars. Dust whirling in dervishes behind them. His hands steady on the wheel when he spins out in the tamarisk grove. Road ricocheting inside his head. His brazen skill and ragged laugh. She's quiet beside him. Her fingertips on his naked wrist. The rapid pulse there. And in the small space between his sideburns and his ear.

Edited by - Ailinn on 12/09/2019 21:23:17
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/04/2019 :  16:32:59  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Morning fortress of fog. Foam-flocked at the high-tide mark where their names are buried in sand. And now the bluffs are falling. He said they would.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 09/07/2019 :  16:17:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply


There is pain out in the world tonight
And some of it's your very own
Lord, I know you gave it all you had
Somehow that last dream has flown.

Have the spirits all deserted you
Left you to sing your lonesome tune?
Lord, we ask so little and yet so much
Why do the answers never come too soon?

Do not be so hard upon yourself
The world will gladly do that part
Keep what matters flowing freely through your soul
So the truths can reach your heart.

Does it sometimes seem so much to bear
All the work that goes unseen?
Is it the weakest or the strongest ones
That end up going to their knees?

Do not be so hard upon yourself
The world will gladly do that part
Keep what matters flowing freely through your soul
So the truths can reach your heart.

We enter naked and without blame
And day by day we gain and lose
We need the hope our elders promised
We need to find the path to choose

Do not be so hard upon yourself
The world will gladly do that part
Keep what matters flowing freely through your soul
So the truths can reach your heart.



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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 09/13/2019 :  04:08:25  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Mom and Dad took me to the
Old Madison Square Garden in 1959
To see the Roy Roger's Rodeo.

The Sons of the Pioneers sat right
In front of us
Tall on their horses and sang
Cool Water and the horses never moved.

When they sang Tumbling Tumbleweeds
The horses danced sideways like they
Really liked this one.




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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/16/2019 :  17:15:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Small wings of dust at her ankles. She's intent on keeping her feet on the ground. Not turn around in the bright humming air. Color and sound she hadn't noticed before. A dozen determined steps before she glances his way. He's still there. He hasn't moved. He doesn't wave. A few more steps before she turns back again. Sun at his shoulders. An outline of sails. A thousand and one...a thousand and two... Seconds tick by. He's laughing when he walks away. She knows what will happen now.

Edited by - Ailinn on 12/09/2019 21:26:45
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/16/2019 :  17:21:38  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Embarcadero. "Whole days in old places," he says. "Other books...other lives..." "The great age of crossers," she says. "They came separately. Two boats. My father on adventure. Cold nights in the hold. My mother on something with champagne flutes and deck chairs. He was in the hotel business. He had a thick brogue. She was an ethereal stranger who floated over croquet lawns under a lace parasol. Her feet never touched the ground. He put me to sleep with extravagant stories. Left in the middle of one."
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/16/2019 :  17:30:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...our own language," he says. "That story. Remember...?" "Four beaver pelts down on Amsterdam..." she laughs, "...lashed to the rail for the rooftop shot." "One wish this moment..." he says, and squeezes her hand. "Unchaperoned," she says. "Oh, Lord!" he says, "Oh, Lord..." Urban twilight. Sky half dark with wings. Fingers laced. Wrists humming. "We're gettin' better at this," he says.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 09/21/2019 :  20:18:47  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply


In her voice a dog is barking.
Just outside my soul.
She never saw the best of me
She never saw me whole.
Ornaments for earrings,
Rainbow tattoos on her skin.
Some days her hair was blonde
Turned red the nights she sinned.

There never was the time then
The way I've got it now.
Forever's never long enough
Always learning how.
The times I knew and the times I cared
They don't matter anymore
Tonite that dog is barking
Time to close up that back door.

Ornaments for earrings,
Rainbow tattoos on her skin
Some days her hair was blonde
Turned red the nites she sinned.

One day or nite can change things
The leaves blow down the street
A woman laughs, a baby cries
Did I teach her how to cheat?
Somebody else's life
Is playing in my head
No direction left but up,
More alive than dead

Years they pass, scars they show
Redemption draweth nigh
If it wasn't for the moonlight
No one would see us cry
Love comes to town once or twice
Sometimes it even stays
Like the circus, roll the tents
The clown's the one who pays.

Ornaments for earrings,
Rainbow tattoos on her skin
Some days her hair was blonde
Turned red the nites she sinned.




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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/24/2019 :  17:25:04  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
A kind of surrender entering a mine in earthquake country. The weight of risk overhead. But curiosity overcomes trepidation and they step into the indelible dark. What's concealed by brush on the mountain is stunningly revealed. Sun-pierced portals. Shafts of moted light through honeycomb openings. A maze of spectacle inside. Chambers of varying sizes. Some so low they have to stoop to get through. High-roofed pockets of jagged crystal. Glowing quartz. Violet mica. Tourmaline. The Blue Cap vein. Color more vivid in the rock than in jewelry. Nearly an hour passes. Blind for a few moments when they finally walk out. Back on the reservation there's beef and fry bread at the tribal chairman's house who tells them Wind Spirit sings with Coyote out by the Tourmaline Queen.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

2196 Posts

Posted - 09/24/2019 :  17:30:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Narrow alleyway. Thin slice of sky. He points to the stars and names them. "...as many constellations as keys on a piano..." he says on a street of red cobbles and makeshift shrines. Tribute bouquets and candle stubs flickering in niches in the wall. Pan de muertos. Sweet conchas with crosses. Bright woven God's Eye at the vendors stalls. "...line between the mortal and the divine..." he says.
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buckman
Firefly

USA
2825 Posts

Posted - 09/29/2019 :  09:47:33  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply

Whistle me a up a tune, Mick
My heart is breaking in two
I'm spending the nite with
my closest friends,
Her memory, a bottle and you.
Sing me a sad one like only you can
I know there's more left in this heart
It's a long train we're runnin
Gettin faster each day
But we've come so far from the start

What ever she took,
she took me by chance,
It was all we could do just to stand
The first days were wild
The nites all aglow
There was still time for holding hands.
Some things you lose
Others you burn
Some just get taken away
Nights filled with whiskey,
The days fueled by pills
It's gonna stop hurting today

So, Whistle me up a tune, Mick
The night is just right for two.
An empty glass toast
to beginnings and ends
Her memory, a bottle and you.
Sing us of ramblin and shining blue skies
Fade the words right into my heart
It's a long road we're drivin
But gettin shorter each day
We've come so far from the start

Sometimes all it takes
Is one little dance
You feel it, she's holding your hand
The days of the child
The years watching him grow
Are stored safe in another land
Sounds like the blues
But some days you learn
Some just get taken away
Words chase the whiskey,
The mountains are hills
It's gonna stop hurting today

So, Whistle me up a tune, Mick
The night is just right for two.
An empty glass toast
to beginnings and ends
Her memory, a bottle and you.
Sing us of ramblin and shining blue skies
Fade the words right into my heart
It's a long road we're drivin
But gettin shorter each day
We've come so far from the start



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